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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

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Three. Four. Five. || Toxic!Husband!Price

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

30. "I hate you but if anything happened to you I'd burn the world" vibe.;

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years;

78. Give us a "That's my Wife!" moment.

Rating: E Words: 3.3K cw: toxic couple, VERY toxic, insults, death wishes, smut fade to black, pregnancy. Tags: f!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, miilitary/court martial inaccuracies, very bad family dynamics?, dark humour??. Summary: John and Reader are in the worst fucking marriage ever. A collection of moments, dialogues and scenes from their terrible relationship. a/n: They are SO fucking toxic and dumb, I cannot- This is also very different from the stuff I usually write. This is ALSO not particularly angsty, more so dark humour.

There was a time when you loved John Price.

With all your heart, all your soul (and all your pussy).

That time was when you were young.

Ages 14 to 21, you loved him. He was your first kiss, your first time. High school sweethearts, you supported him through the academy, he supported you when you went to university.

You stayed together through his first and second deployments. It was like an old-timey WW2 romance.

So many letters exchanged back and forth. All lovey-dovey, with faint pen ink and smudged blotches on the pages as you made plans for the future.

Phone calls with spotty service and loads of static, only five minutes per soldier, 5 minutes which he’d spend only ever spend talking to you, asking you to relay any other messages to his mum, dad, siblings so he wouldn’t have to hang up with you.

Polaroids clipped on the inside of envelopes which he would then slip into the breast pocket of his shirt, keeping you over his heart… one he’d often pull out and look at during transpo, thumbs tracing your eternal smile.

Polaroids of yours, a bit more risqué, which he would keep tucked into a journal under his pillow, for his eyes only.

John would walk around overseas with a smile on his lips after getting a letter or a call from you, brag to his teammates about his “bird back home”, never going out to bars to find one night stands like they did…

But sometime after his second deployment and joining the SAS, the puppy love that had lasted for years started to dwindle.

Slowly but surely, you found that you were both growing distant.

You assumed you were both growing a bit ‘comfortable’, perhaps complacent… like all relationships tend to get after a while.

By that time, John and you had already moved in together and you were no longer consistently alone for months at a time waiting for him to return from deployment. You blamed it on that. Plus, you’d been together for years by then!

But it felt different. There was distance, emotional and physical. Whenever he cuddled up to you, you felt cold and so did he. The kisses to your forehead were meaningless, the dinners at home eerily silent.

And between the distance and the inability to make proper plans, proper dates, celebrate milestones together, forgotten anniversaries, overlooked birthdays… It turned into arguments.

And one argument turned to three, to five, to seven… hundred.

You found yourself growing bitter, angry, hateful.

It wasn’t a sudden shift or anything.

Not like you woke up one day and the one thought in your head was “I hate him”...

But you remember hating him longer than you ever loved him.

You tried breaking up. And failed.

Some… bastardised feeling of guilt came to the forefront of both your minds at the idea of throwing away 5 6 7 8 9 10 years together, and giving up on your first love… and maybe even fear of having to start anew with someone else.

So, you simply continued going through the motions. You got engaged, big shiny rock on your finger, all big smile, but no tears came when he proposed. Your families were ecstatic, not quite able to see through the thinly veiled deceit.

For the wedding, you pulled out all the stops, stressed yourself out preparing the ceremony and reception with the women in your family (and his! His mother and sister were so happy that John was getting married!), going wedding dress shopping…

You had a beautiful ceremony, John wearing his full dress suit, army green, with the beige SAS beret. You were both 27, and together for 13 years.

Then, came the honeymoon, which was cut short. Not that it was a true honeymoon. Just three days in a coastal town in Northern France, having to be within a day's drive of Hereford lest he get called out for a sudden mission, which he was.

Not that you expected any different from him. So the distance continued growing, as did the arguments.

You hated him. He hated you.

Then came the predictable “So, when can we expect some grandkids?”. You put it off for a couple more years, blaming it on your high-priority careers, the law and the military, so similar and so different; his lack of time at home and how regrettable it’d be for you to be alone through the pregnancy; the want to be ‘more present’ for the future kids, needing to wait for things to settle down a bit more…

You’d been together for so long at that point, 15 years under your belt, starkly aware that neither of you is going anywhere. The world keeps spinning and your relationship hasn't ended. Fuck it, might as well go for it.

And now here you are.

It’s been eighteen years since you met. Aged 32, you no longer have arguments, you have throwdowns. You pull out every weapon in your arsenal. Neither of you plays nice.

Insults are traded often. Death wishes even more so. And, more often than not, they’re delivered with such a deadpan nonchalance that you’re sure people would think you both psychopaths.

“Going on a mission. ‘ll be back in a few days.”

“‘Kay, hope you die.”

“So do I.”

“Just had a fender bender with a stupid bloke. The car’s at the shop. Taking an uber to the base to get your car.”

“Okay. Shame you didn’t die a fiery death.”

“Don’t remind me, already cried about it.”

"I'm getting discharged."

"Why?"

"Shot."

"And it couldn't have killed you?"

“Can you get out of the damn toilet? I’m bleeding.”

“Period, accident, or just part of your satanic rituals?”

“Period.”

“Tough luck. Hope you bleed out.”

It never gets physical, never violent. John would rather die than lay a hand on you and you’d never DARE lay one on him. It’s just a lot of yelling, a lot of insulting, a lot of throwing things around, and, especially, a lot of revenge plans being executed to drive each other crazy.

Like recently. You found out John had gotten a grey-haired wig about the same length and texture as your hair, and has been snipping off a few hairs at a time, planting them around the house to blame you for leaving your hair everywhere, while simultaneously making you feel like you’re going grey. So, you put grey hair box dye in his shampoo and beard oil, to make him think he’s going grey.

Or three months ago, when you replaced all your lightbulbs with dimmer ones and lowered the brightness on all electronics, to make him think his eyesight was starting to go bad. You drove him so mad that he had voluntarily signed up for sniper assessments because he was worried he’d become a liability for the team.

Or eight months ago, when John had to return home in the middle of the day wearing a ruined uniform and just about ready to blow smoke out of his ears, having ripped holes in the uniform midway through a meeting all because 2 or so weeks prior you had painstakingly undone part of the stitching on it after an argument, and that had resulted in him baring his hairy thighs and armpits to a boardroom full of officers.

It’s bad. Very bad. You’ve had your windows and doors insulated to make sure the neighbors don’t hear your screaming matches and call the cops on the “domestic violence” happening next door.

You probably shouldn’t have kids with this man. And yet-

He drives you insane.

And you’ve TRIED to fix it! You did. Marriage counseling, rage rooms, axe-throwing, paintball matches, yoga, meditation.… Nothing worked! In fact, it only infuriated you more because:

“You’ve got a tactical advantage, you need to play with a handicap!”

“Tough luck, sweetheart. Get good or get shot!”.

“You can throw harder than that.”

“Oh, I’ll show ya throwing hard, you gobshite!”

“Okay, when are you planning to start?”

“My back hurts-”

“Because you’re getting old.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just telling you the truth. Face it, John, if the downward dog hurts your back, then you’re old.”

“Can you breathe any louder?”

“Yes, I can. Wanna see?”

“Just shut up. I can’t hear myself think.”

“Not much to hear either way, pretty hollow in there.”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetness.”

There are only three occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats. Other, then, of course, when John’s working, especially when he’s overseas. You can’t fight if he’s both a) not home and b) unreachable via calls or texts or e-mails.

When you need a favor from the other, something you can’t quite do, or that falls in the other’s ‘jurisdiction’ in house chores.

“The washing machine’s leaking.”

“Turn off the water main, I’ll go check in a sec.”

“Mkay.”

“Here. Popped a button.”

“I don’t have any more army green thread.”

“Then use brown or black or whatever.”

“Where are your car keys?”

“What for?”

“Going to get it washed and detailed.”

“My purse.”

“You’re not gonna wear that, are you?”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact that it’s wrinkly? That’s a ‘house’ shirt, not a ‘going out’ shirt. Wear this one instead.”

2. When you’re both complaining or dealing with an outside force, a 3rd party, together.

"Excuse me, hi, I'm sending this back it's not cooked the way I asked."

"Ma'am that's exactly what you-"

"Are you calling my wife a liar?"

“Oh, fuck no. Why the fuck is he winning the Great British Bake Off?"

"Hm? Oh- oh! Yeah, why the fuck is he winning?"

“Bloody hell, he rolled his pastry too thin and had watery pie filling-”

“Wankers. This is not fair.”

“John. John!”

“What?”

“Look-”

“Blood hell, he’s back early-”

“Yeah and her boytoy’s car still there. They’re definitely still going at it.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Excuse me! Hey, excuse me! Pick up after your bloody dog! NO, don’t you start with me, you keep leaving your dog’s shite right by our garden, don’t you see the sign my husband’s posted up?! Pick it up or I’ll do it and then drop it in your garden.”

3. During sex.

Marching into the bedroom after breakfast, you find John combing through his hair in the bathroom mirror. The room is steamy from the hot shower he just took.

“Take your trousers off. I’m ovulating.” You warn him as you wave your phone in the air, showing off the period tracking app.

“I literally just showered.” John replies as you’re already shrugging off your robe and pajamas.

“Well, believe or not, I don’t control my ovaries, John.” You reply. “Now take your trousers off.”

“Already on it.” He replies as he already starts taking off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving them on a pile on the floor, before his boxer briefs follow suit.

His hand palms his cock as you’re getting comfortable on the bed, tugging on it lightly as he watches your fingers do the same between your legs.

“Can we try to enjoy it this time?” He asks you in earnest.

“Sure.” You reply simply. “Been a while since we’ve had proper sex and not…”

“Not a breeding session?” He quips as he kneels on the bed between your parted thighs. His hand replaces yours and he starts rubbing your clit for you.

“Shut it…” You quip, while your own hand wraps around his cock, stroking it slowly. John lowers himself onto you and his lips slowly brush against yours before he kisses you.

No, as it turns out… There are actually four occasions when you’re not actively at each other’s throats:

4. The Kid

In a day like any other, you’re lying in bed, reading a book. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, your big, round belly feeling particularly heavy. You’ve stolen every other pillow in the house to try and find some comfort, which you fail remarkably at.

“I think I’m going grey.” John states to no one in particular.

He’s in the en-suite bathroom, applying beard oil across his mutton chops like he tends to do, about three times a week.

“You are.” You remark in a bored, dismissive tone as you read a book in bed.

“That’s not funny. I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting up there.”

“Look who’s talking, we’re the same age.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jonathan?”

“It means you’re there yourself, darling.”

Raising your eyes from the book in your hands, the bottom of which rests atop your pregnant belly, you cock a brow at your ‘beloved’ husband.

“And this is coming from Santa Claus?” You retort swiftly.

John peeks his head out of the bathroom door to look at you. “You think you’ve got a leg to stand on, you crone?”

Grunting under your breath, you glare at him, and he glares at you, complete silence in the bedroom.

There’s something in that face of his, the look in his eyes, those STUPID fucking mutton chops that you’ve told him to shave and he refuses…

Grabbing your book and rolling it into a cylinder, you hurl it at him, putting as much force behind your arm as you possibly can. It misses the mark, but only because he had the presence of mind to duck.

“You’re such a fuckin’ knobhead!” You insult him, tongue dripping with bitterness.

“Wel, not like I can be anything else, really, when I’m married to such a raging cunt.” He retorts.

“OH FUCK YOU!” You retort.

“ALREADY AM MORE THAN FUCKED, SPENDING THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU.”

“OH, PLEASE, YOU’RE MORE MARRIED TO YOUR BLOODY GUN THAN YOU ARE TO ME!”

“YEAH CAUSE AT LEAST MY GUN DOESN’T DRIVE ME FUCKING MENTAL!”

“OH PISS OFF!” You shout, your face twisting with a scowl.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be stressing yourself out like this. It’s not good for your blood pressure. Or for John Junior.”

“First of all, it’s not gonna be a boy. Secondly, even if it is a boy, we’re not naming him after you. And thirdly, how about you die, then I won’t get stressed.”

“And why would I do that, when I can stay right here, perfectly alive and healthy, and watch you give birth to John Junior, and have the pleasure of rubbing a ‘I told you so’ right in your face?”

“Oh fuck you. It’s not going to happen.” You sulk and cross your arms over your chest, leaning back against your mountain of pillows.

“Someone doesn’t like the idea of having a son that takes after me, hm??” John teases as he comes up to the bed, a brow cocked.

You trail him with your eyes as he sits next to you on the bed. “Absolutely not. I wanna have a child I actually am able to love, and not one that I have to lie to.”

“A mother’s love knows no bounds, huh? What a load of crap.” John quips.

“Oh, that’s 100% true. I love this baby to bits already, but if it takes after you… I’ll probably die.”

“Good.” John remarks, causing you to roll your eyss. “Much better than if our child takes after you. Spawn of Satan, he would be.” John’s hand slides up your leg and slowly cups your swollen stomach.

“I should probably address the fact you just called our child ‘Satan’s spawn’, but I’m more concerned over the fact you keep calling the baby a ‘son’.” You murmur as you uncross your arms and watch him caress your skin.

“I feel like it’s a boy, I don’t know what to tell you.” He replies as his calloused fingers drag over the stretch marks and linea nigra on your stomach.

“What if it’s a girl?”

“What about it?”

“I’ve seen enough men online getting pissy over havin’ a daughter.” You quip and cock a brow up, looking him in the eyes.

John’s eyes lock onto yours. “Not me.” Then they return to the belly as he continues rubbing you. “Would love a little girl too.”

“Hm.” You remark and slowly, your hand rubs over the belly on the opposite side, where John’s hand isn’t. “We’ve gotta promise not to yell or argue in front of the baby.”

“Kind of hard to do that when I’m married to the Devil.” John quips, causing you to look up at him, eyes narrowed.

“You’ve gotta promise. We’ve gotta promise.” You murmur as you look at him.

For a moment, his usually grumpy face softens and he nods. “I promise.”

Nodding as well, you echo the sentiment. “I promise.”

No, wait, five:

5. When you have his back.

“General, that is not what I asked you. I would ask that you stop beating around the bush, feeding me, the jury, and the people watching at home, fabricated information and embellished words in a sorry attempt to save your credibility. Stick to the questions being asked and stop wasting our times.” You warned the man as you paced the space in front of the stand.

“Me and everyone else in this room are looking for nothing but the truth, or must I remind you that you are under oath and also live on television?” You ask outloud as you turn to look at him.

“No, counselor.” The General, a heavy-set, older, mustachioed man replies, through gritted teeth, his face showing a polite expression while the man himself was seething on the inside.

“Very well, then, I’ll repeat the question. Were you or were you not aware of the aforementioned, unsactioned operations being conducted in the Al-Mazarah and Urzikstan border, involving CIA and MI6 operatives?” You asked, eyes glaring into the man’s eyes as you leaned into the stand near him.

“Well, as with most operations...”

“A yes or no is enough, General.” You told him sternly.

“Yes.” The man grits out.

“And did you, or did you not, give permission for these CIA and MI6 operatives, working under the guise of NATO, and I quote, from the transcript: “Authority to use any means necessary” on the enemy forces?” You confronted him.

“Well-”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“And did you do that while being aware that the teams involved would interpret such command as permission to execute an operation in which they’d use ‘extreme physical persuasion’ or, in other words, torture to achieve their goals?”

“I-”

“Did you or did you not, General?”

“Yes, but-”

“And did you, or did you not, not only demand the censoring of the clear and transparent reports received in the aftermath of that operation but also sign off on them yourself, to circumvent the proper channels of evaluation, which would force an internal audit to be conducted?”

“Yes-”

“So, in short, you just confirmed that you authorized your troops to, essentially, wipe their asses with the Geneva convention and comit war crimes on the POWs under their care?”

“Counselor-” One of the judges called out.

“Withdrawn. No further questions, Mr. Chairman.” You told the Chairman and the jury panel that sat above you, as you swiftly turned around and marched up to your table, high heels clacking on the polished floors of the court room.

Your eyes locked onto John’s as he sat in the back of the room, wearing his full regalia, his eyes locked onto yours with a strange shine to them… Almost like he’s proud of you.

As soon as you sit on the chair and the Chairman once again takes over, addressing the room, the General, calling other witnesses, your phone’s screen lights up on the chair next to you.

Picking it up quietly, you spot a message of John’s:

John: that’s my girl. knew you could do it. you: you owe me big time. John: i do. saved my arse there. you: of course. it’s what I’m here for. John: almost making it sound like you love me. you: no but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. you: no way in hell you’re leaving me alone with 3 children. John: i see. selfish woman. you: shut up. you: and try not torturing POWs next time. John: yes, ma’am.

Five occasions seem to be enough to keep a 23-year marriage afloat.

a/n: Big thanks to my beloved @crashtestbunny for helping draft/plot all these interactiions and just the general toxicity! And also @mothymunson your beloved Toxic!Price is here!

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚#ocaptainchallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod fandom #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #price

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melancholymetropolis · 2 months

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Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well.

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring.

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi.

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call.

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down.

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. ��You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before.

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them.

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly.

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend.

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship.

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened.

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss.

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in.

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”.

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later.

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage.

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded.

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep.

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

-------

a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

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vanderlesbian · 8 months

Text

husband price + ghost hcs

literally just got into cod and i immediately fell so hard for price and ghost erm.......so enjoy some hcs! if they're slightly ooc i apologize...i'm still really new to their characters

gn reader! no warnings <3

**i use [spouse] so you can insert your preferred term :) husband/wife/spouse/etc

captain john price

- being married to a captain means a lot of nights where price doesn't come home until well after midnight from the amount of work that gets thrown onto him. you try your best to stay up those nights, waiting for his return so you can make him something quick to eat before cleaning him up for bed. though, a lot of the times you get too tired, and price will walk in to see you passed out on the couch. you always wake up in your bed with your husband's arms around your waist and his face buried in your neck.

- because price is always away from home for long periods of time, when he comes back expect to not lift a finger to do anything. he'll feel bad for having you manage the home alone for such long periods of time, so when he is at home he'll do everything for you. cook, clean, run errands—everything. though, sometimes you insist that you help him, saying that it's no fair that he comes home from work just to work some more at home. you find it more enjoyable when the two of you do chores together, anyways.

- he was so outwardly confident with proposing to you, but i know for a fact that he was like a shaking chihuahua on the inside. i definitely think you would date him for quite a long time before finally deciding to get married, so when price takes you to a spot you guys haven't visited since the beginning of your relationship to propose to you, your heart melts realizing that he remembered something from so long ago.

- your wedding was small and simple, with only close friends and family attending. price had more guests with all of the people he knows from work, but you've grown to like them all as much as he does. you have plenty of photos of the 141 boys drunk during the reception, and maybe a few pictures of a drunk, dancing price that he only lets you see out of embarrassment.

- speaking of the 141 boys, they'll often be at your place to watch football or to simply just hang out. you don't mind it in the slightest; they're all very kind to you. gaz is very formal with you because you're his captain's spouse, and you've told him multiple times that it's okay for him to use your first name rather than mr/mrs. price. the others are very casual with you, but know not to cross any boundaries with price watching. of course, i don't think they would do that to begin with, but regardless price is very protective of you.

- you will definitely nag him about his smoking habits. even if you find it attractive, you know it's not good for him. price and laswell will bond over the fact that their spouses hate it.

- price will ignore others to give you his undivided attention. soap would be blowing up his phone with text messages, hearing it buzz in the back pocket of his pants as he has you against the kitchen counter with his hands on your hips and his lips on yours. "john, it sounds important-" "it can wait." he'll mutter in that attractively low voice of his as he swiftly pulls the phone from his pocket and tosses it elsewhere before immediately pulling you back into another kiss.

- breakfast would be your time to catch up with one another. the most peaceful time of day, the both of you are always up early and sitting at the dining table with a hot cup of tea. he loves asking you about any new happenings that he missed while he was gone, and will watch with a soft smile as you enthusiastically tell him about it. you then do the same with him as he tells you about work, and you can always see his body relaxing as he speaks to you. after breakfast, he likes to invite you on his morning walks where you'll continue your conversations.

- i do think price would want kids; maybe one or two. while his job takes him away from home a lot, he'll always make time for his family, even if that means taking time off. he makes sure not to miss any important dates, and if it can't be helped, he'll make sure to spend time with you guys afterwards. seeing the way price smiles and laughs with your kids is something that you will cherish forever.

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost didn't see himself getting married until he met you. even then he was very hesitant for a long time, but as the two of you deepened your relationship, he realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

- ghost would need a lot of reassurance not only as a boyfriend, but also as a husband. he does not know how to be a husband in the slightest. he thinks he has to know how to do everything automatically, so you often have to reassure him that you're just as new to this as he is.

- being married to you, ghost trusts you more than anyone on the planet. you're the only one who can lift that mask from his face with your own hands, and he lets you trace your fingers along his scars. it took a long time to get to this point; you didn't judge ghost for not being very touchy while you were dating because you were aware of his circumstances. he also showed his love in other ways, mostly with gifts and acts of service. though, after getting married, ghost made it a point to be more physically affectionate with you. now, he loves resting his head in the crook of your neck and holding you tight and close, especially after a long day or mission.

- he isn't into making things very public, so his proposal was very private and probably took place at home, but made sure to make things as romantic as they can be in simon riley's world. your wedding would also be very small and probably in the backyard, but it would still be cute and magical. you've never seen ghost so full of life until your wedding day.

- he doesn't like to burden you with his work. before he leaves for a mission, he'll make sure everything at home is ready for you. fridge is stocked, clothes are washed, the toilet you've been bothering him about is fixed—he doesn't want you to worry about anything while he's gone. even when he's away from home, he'll text you a simple "you alright?" to check in on you.

- after you got together with ghost, you became his mask maker. when his mask gets torn or stained, you either fix it for him or make him a new one. at this point, you could paint a perfect skull with your eyes closed. when soap teases ghost about the mask, he'll tell him that you made it, which then makes soap feel guilty LOL. "why do you keep that mask on anyway? you scared?" "[spouse] made it."

- oh he is so cold and scary on the battlefield, but the moment he has time to himself and turns on his phone to see a message from you saying "i miss you :(" his entire world explodes. nobody could tell, but he wants nothing more but to be with you when he's away. in all those times he's spacing out while with the other 141 members, he's most likely thinking about you.

- i don't think ghost would want kids, but if you express that you do, he'll reconsider. he would just be scared that he wouldn't make a good dad, but if you do have kids, it's quickly shown otherwise. he definitely treats kids like tiny adults, but he's never harsh with them. imagine his large, scary figure sitting himself in a kindergarten sized chair after your kid pleaded for him to come in for career day.

- what ghost will want though is a dog. if you decide not to have kids, a dog will be your baby. a big ol german shepherd or a rottweiler, you guys will spoil that dog like it's royalty. you think it's cute to watch ghost kneel down to pet the dog, and sometimes you'll find them together taking a nap. you like to tease that he loves the dog more than you.

#need to write them as dads now #call of duty #cod #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #john price #captain price #simon ghost riley #x reader #headcanons #fluff #domestic #husband #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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cherryredstars · 3 months

Note

would you write married life hcs with simon i need some domestic fluff paired with angst please🥺😢

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Summary: Married life with Simon.

Word Count: 745 (Not Edited)

The ring he proposes with is gorgeous. It fits your finger perfectly, not catching on your skin once. It’s fashioned from his mother’s ring. His mother’s ring was also the ring Tommy had used to propose to his own wife. You carry the memory of four lost Rileys with you, and it is a weight you are proud to hold. Simon cannot think of a better person to share the weight with.

He spoils you rotten. Wants the best for his spouse and wants nothing less. He gives you random gifts. Brings you back souvenirs from his deployments. Takes you to your favorite restaurants. Stocks the kitchen with your favorite foods. Gives you access to all his bank accounts. He makes too much money from his high position and his long years of serving, the money might as well be spent on someone he loves. Someone who deserves the world.

He truly believes that you’re an angel. Someone sent him to hold him together. Every second he spends at home is with you. Follows you around like a lovesick puppy. He’ll stand with you in the kitchen as he cooks. He’ll sit on the edge of the bathtub or on the toilet seat as you do your skincare or get ready for the day. Lays on the couch or on the bed doing his own thing. As long as he’s in the same room as you, he’s content.

He wants to share your happiness. Wants to absorb everything good about you and have it stained into his soul. He feels that as long as you are in his hold, he can keep that sacred part of you safe. He worries whenever he hears a thump in the house, rushing into the room to find you hopping because you dropped something on your foot. It warms his heart, to have something so normal and domestic. He doesn’t know how he ever survived without you.

He has never taken his ring off. Not once. Not since you had placed it on his finger. He doesn’t take it off when he’s cooking. Doesn't care that the shampoo from his shower is making it soapy. Doesn’t mind that there is a slight bulge in his glove from where the ring still sits on his finger despite being against code. You’d have to kill him to pry that finger off his ring. But even in death, you’ll have to fight him for it.

Plans dates for the two of you. He wants you to know how much he truly cares for you. How grateful he is to announce to the world that he has a spouse waiting for him at home. Will never get tired of the privilege to have that. With all his time away from home, he wants to be able to spend that intimate, one-on-one time with you. Sometimes you wished he just stopped.

Marrying Simon means empty promises that he tries to apologize for by throwing money at it. It means excitedly texting him something and being disappointed when he replies two weeks later with a thumbs up emoji reaction. It means being suffocated when he’s here, and then drowning when he’s gone. It means being drained of everything within you because you keep giving it to a man who is never there. It means waiting in a restaurant in your best outfit for hours and going home with tears in your eyes and a message the next morning saying, Sorry, have to wrap some things up before returning home. See you in a few days.

Having Simon as a husband is like being a widow. It is spending nights in a cold bed alone, in a large house devoid of life. It is yearning every day for something and clinging on to the love you have. It is full of being bitter and understanding and tired of an endless cycle.

Being Simon’s spouse is full of debating and fighting with yourself. It is spending every day that he is away staring at the folder of divorce papers in your bedside drawer. It is wonder how you could ever think of divorcing him every day he is home. It is thinking that the Riley ring is a curse because everyday you feel like you are dying from its weight.

Wearing Simon’s ring makes you feel like you’ll just be a memory of another Riley he has lost. Another Riley he has sacrificed for his job.

Join Cherry’s Discord Server

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Text

More Than Charm | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - part two of Actions Speak Louder … inspired by a comment from @holacia3

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy’s got a lot of making up to do, both to (Y/N) and her parents. To anyone else, this would be a challenging feat….but Tommy Shelby isn’t anyone else.

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 2493

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long for this second part to be written. If you’re still interested enough to see what happens next, thanks so much for sticking around. I’m not 100% sure it came out how I wanted it to, but I’m happy with it nonetheless. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: oh and what a better time to post this than on the day they got married? - thank you to @eatdirt420 for suggesting I pick a day in between the two seasons that won…I hope this day is considered to be that!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

- December 12th, 1920 -

If you told (Y/N) that this day would finally come around, she probably would have laughed in your face.

Tommy proposed to her in October of 1913. They were planning to have their wedding in August of the next year. But no one had anticipated the fact that Tommy and his brothers would have been shipped out to fight a war in France just one month prior.

The wedding had to be postponed due to the conflict, and it stayed postponed for seven long years - both due to the war continuing longer than anyone could have imagined, and also because of the ‘mess’ that Tommy and the family business got themselves into just shortly after they returned from the Western Front in 1919.

(Y/N) thought it’d be better to wait, to allow their wedding to have the spotlight that she felt it deserved. But she’d by lying if she said that the prospect of her walking down the aisle got bleaker with every year that passed.

But today it finally happened. She finally walked down the aisle, took her fiancé’s hands, and vowed herself to him for the rest of her life. He, in return, vowed the same for her, and she and Tommy then walked back down the aisle as husband and wife.

Now it was time for the reception.

Tommy and (Y/N) decided to take a moment to themselves before going out and greeting all of the people who joined them on their special day.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her as he shut the door behind them, making sure they were alone in one of the rooms just of off the large banquet hall. He noticed that something had been eating at his wife since the ceremony was finished.

“Nothing,” she quickly responded, noticing instantly after she’d answered him that her haste had given her true feelings away.

“You’re picking at your nails, love,” he nodded at her hands, catching her in the act, “something’s bothering you. What is it?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “My parents, Tommy,” she answered, her response only scratching the surface of what she wanted to say.

“What about ‘em?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“I’m worried what they’re thinking…how they’re taking this,” she divulged.

“Fuck what they’re thinking,” he was quick to brush it off, and he promptly earned a glare from his wife in response.

“Seriously? You can’t just say that,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. Tommy stayed silent. (Y/N) turned from him with a huff, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes in hopes to alleviate some of the stress and worry she was feeling. “You can be so crass sometimes, Thomas,” she sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the ground.

“I’ve got this covered, love,” he responded, moving to stand behind her.

“I’ve heard that before,” she remarked, snorting after she spoke.

“I’ve got it covered,” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her midriff so he could pull her flush against him.

“Please don’t mess this up,” she whispered as she placed her hands atop his forearms.

“I won’t,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to her neck.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but lean into his touch, her eyes slowly closing as she got lost in the feeling of his lips pressed to her skin. “We’ve gotta get out there, Tommy,” she finally spoke after a few moments had passed.

“They’ll be fine for a few more minutes,” he disregarded her statement, continuing his ministrations.

“Tommy,” the repeating of his name came as a breath this time.

“Just wanna spend some time with me wife,” he mumbled before spinning her around so that he could kiss her lips.

The reception was in full swing now. Tommy and (Y/N) had been playing host, going around to all of the guests and thanking them for being part of their big day. (Y/N) was so happy to see Tommy back to acting like his old self. Usually his smiles and lighthearted behavior were reserved for her eyes only but today, while in front of family and friends, his guard had been completely lowered.

Her parents hadn’t yet made a scene, which (Y/N) was thankful for because they very well could have if they wanted to. They stood off to the side and watched with smiles as their daughter celebrated her wedding day. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or worried that Tommy hadn’t gone over to them yet.

“Don’t look now, (Y/N),” (Y/N)’s sister, Josephine, started while looking over the younger woman’s shoulder, “but Tommy’s on his way over to mum.”

(Y/N) looked as soon as her sister finished speaking. Sure enough, Tommy was now talking to her mother. She held her breath as she watched the two conversate.

“What is he going to do?” she wondered aloud, frozen as she silently hoped that this wouldn’t be the time where the train got derailed.

The two talked for a moment longer before Tommy offered his hand to her. Time seemed to go slow as (Y/N) watched a smile form on her mother’s face before she accepted Tommy’s hand and allowed him to lead her to to the dance floor.

“He got her to dance,” Josephine pointed out, grabbing hold of her sister’s arm as a look of shock formed on her face, “no one gets mum to dance.”

“And it looks like she’s enjoying it,” (Y/N) remarked, feeling an immense relief wash over her as she caught the wide smile that was present on her mother’s face.

“Leave it up to Tommy Shelby, right?” Josephine grinned as she looked over at her sister.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but blush. She tried to play it off, but the fact that Josie’s grin grew made it obvious that she had caught her initial reaction. “Yeah,” she conceded with a slight nod before adding, “but mum’s the easier of the two to convince. I’m interested to see what he’s got planned for dad.”

The evening had gone as swimmingly as it could have. There were many laughs and smiles, and the love could practically be felt in the room.

The dance seemed to do the trick: (Y/N)’s mother had decided to put her feelings of hesitance in the past and accepted Tommy as her son-in-law. Her only qualm now was that the two hadn’t gotten married sooner.

Much like (Y/N) predicted though, her father was going to be a harder person to sway. He stayed at the table for most of the evening, watching the event happen around him. She tried to get him involved a few times, but to no avail. The only time he stepped away from his seat was for the father-daughter dance.

“Is your father still here?” Tommy asked (Y/N) as the evening was drawing to a close.

“Let me see…” she trailed off, peering around his shoulder to find the table her parents had been sitting at, “he is,” she affirmed when she found him in the same seat he’d been occupying all evening. “Why do you ask?” she couldn’t help but question the reasoning behind his concern.

“I’ve not gotten to talk to him yet,” he answered.

“He’s not going to be as easy to sway as my mother was,” (Y/N) warned.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try, eh?” he cracked a grin. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at his determination.

“Please don’t make things worse,” she said before he could leave her side.

“I won’t,” he assured her, leaning in and pressing his lips to her forehead before he turned and walked away from her.

“(Y/N)!” she then heard from behind her. She turned to find Ada approaching her with Freddie in tow. There went the plan of watching Tommy try to smooth-talk her father. “I’ve been looking for you,” the Shelby woman stated as she pulled her new sister-in-law into a hug.

“You’ve found me,” (Y/N) smiled once the two ladies pulled away. She made sure to also acknowledge Freddie, who sent a smile back.

“I wanted to let you know that we’re leaving. It’s getting late and we don’t want to keep Karl’s sitter for too long,” Ada informed her.

“Oh that’s fine. Thank you both for coming,” (Y/N) smiled.

“It was absolutely lovely! We’re thrilled to have you as part of the family now,” Ada said with a smile before asking, “would you happen to know where my brother has run off to?”

“He trying to have a word with my father,” (Y/N) answered, watching as Ada’s eyes widened slightly.

“Best of luck with that,” she stated, “but knowing Tommy, he’ll be able to settle the score.”

“I can hope,” (Y/N) smiled softly, hoping it hid her true emotions. “Thanks again for coming tonight.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Ada smiled before pulling the other woman into one last hug.

By the time the Thornes had left her side, (Y/N) turned again to find Tommy sitting at the same table as her father. They were talking, and by the looks of it, her father seemed to actually be interested in the conversation. (Y/N) felt a smile creep onto her lips as they both lifted their glasses in unison for a drink.

“Whiskey…it sure does help men forget their differences,” the voice of her mother came from beside her, making (Y/N) jump at the sudden company.

“Mum,” she couldn’t help but gasp, her reaction making the other woman laugh. She shook her head and let out a sigh, her smile returning as her mother pulled her into her side. “Tommy really brought whiskey over for him?” she asked.

“He did,” her mum answered with a nod, “was really polite in asking if he could talk with him privately.”

“I can only imagine what they’re talking about,” (Y/N) stated, silently hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t ruin their chances at married life before it even began.

“Oh horses and betting, I’m sure,” her mother threw out a few ideas. “So long as he doesn’t coax him down to Watery Lane, we’ll be grand,” she then added in a nonchalant manner.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as they found her mother’s. She’d never explicitly told her about the business that Tommy and his family ran. Right now she felt like a child who’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. That was why the smile that formed on her mother’s face made confusion wash over her. Why is she smiling? she couldn’t help but think to herself.

“The Shelby name is spoken all around Small Heath, darling. It’s hard not to know about the business they’re involved in,” her mother explained her reaction, making her daughter immediately go into panic mode.

“You’re not upset about that, are you?” (Y/N) asked in a weary tone.

“I’m not,” the older woman started, shaking her head softly, “you’ve been with him for a long time now, and he’s not once shown that he wants to be anywhere other than by your side. He’s a good man to you, (Y/N), anyone can see that. I’m happy that he’s the one you married because I know that you’ll be safe with him.”

“I’m so happy to hear that you think that, mum,” (Y/N) said with a wide smile. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around the older woman and hug her tightly. All of the worries she was harboring had now vanished.

“You’re going to have a lovely life with him,” her mother whispered as she held her daughter tighter.

“I’m not sure what you did, but you made them love you, Tommy,” (Y/N) said as she worked on making sure all of her jewelry was removed.

“You should have trusted me,” he responded, standing from the bed after he’d taken his shoes off. He then moved over to where she was standing so that he could wrap his arms around her waist from behind.

“I should have,” (Y/N) mumbled as she tried to fight the smile that was threatening to form on her face.

“What was that?” Tommy asked as he lifted his chin from her shoulder so that he could look her in the eyes through the mirror. His eyes were wide now and there was a grin teetering on his lips also. He definitely caught what she said…he just wanted to hear it again.

“Oh nothing…” (Y/N) trailed off, playing coy as she bit on her bottom lip.

“Did you just say that I was right?” he tried to coax the answer out of her.

“I said nothing,” (Y/N) held steadfast, although her grin was peeking through despite her attempts to keep it hidden.

“Fine…I’ll just have to use another means of getting it out of you,” Tommy decided, not giving her a moment to process what he said before he was dragging her backwards and - gently - pushing her onto the bed. “What was it you said, love?” he questioned between the kisses he was peppering all over her face, his hands finding the sensitive spots on her sides.

“Tommy!” she shrieked, trying so hard to catch her breath through her giggles. Despite her attempts to either stop his hands or take hold of his face, Tommy continued his barrage of kisses and tickles. “I should have trusted you!”

“What was that?” he stopped all at once, holding himself above her as their eyes met.

“I should have trusted you,” (Y/N) repeated herself once she caught her breath. She took hold of his cheeks with both of her hands and searched his eyes for a moment before adding, “I must’ve forgotten how much of a charmer you are.” She couldn’t help but smile as she watched a grin crack through his composure. If only she could have photographed this moment or found a way to freeze time.

“I managed to keep you for all these years somehow, didn’t I?” he countered, his grin growing, “that wasn’t because of luck alone.”

“I think it was more than your charm that made me stay, Tommy,” she admitted, her smile widening.

“Oh yeah?” his question sounded like he was challenging her.

“Yeah,” her quick response told him what she was up for the challenge.

“Wanna tell me all of those other reasons?” he asked then, one of his eyebrows raising as he spoke.

“Gladly,” (Y/N)’s smile grew more, if that was even possible. Her eyes then flitted down to his lips before returning to his again. “I think I’ll start with your kisses,” she stated, leaving him with no time to respond before she pulled his lips down to match hers in a passionate kiss.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Text

* LAST UPDATED 3/11/24 *

Welcome to my blog! Thank you for being here! ♥️

Please be aware that this blog is 18+. Any blank blogs and/or blogs with no age or age range listed will be blocked.

Below, you’ll find a compilation of the stories I’ve published on this sideblog, as well as playlists I’ve created to pair with the stories/universes that I write for. Any and all feedback is always so deeply appreciated!

For people who may be new around here, I’ve also provided a little bit of information that will hopefully make it easier to navigate my works!

who you’ll find around here:

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw - Most of my Rooster stories take place within the “Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw/Bradshaw Family” universe that I’ve established, but I’m also currently writing an Ancient Rome AU series with Rooster and have plans for other series in the future!

Hangman & Phoenix (Hannix) - My stories about Hangman and Phoenix exist within the same universe as the Bradshaw Family. I write about their “Friends With Benefits” Era, as well as their established relationship and married/family life.

Robert “Bob” Floyd - I’m currently writing a World War II AU series with Bob, and I’ve written other standalone stories for him as well. I have plans to write more stories with Bob in the future!

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) - What can I say? I fell in love with Lewis Pullman and that led me straight into the arms of a bull-riding cowboy. My Rhett stories generally take place within the “Rhett & Honeybee” universe.

ask box/requests:

My ask box is always open! I love chatting with you all about anything and everything, so never be afraid to drop a message, anonymously or not!

I’m open to requests and suggestions, but please know that that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll write every request I receive. Please don’t take it personally! I work full-time and only have a certain amount of time to write, so I try to stick to what sparks some inspiration.

engagement:

I put warnings before all my stories, so please make sure to check them before reading any of my works. If you feel there’s a warning I’ve missed, feel free to let me know!

Not all of my stories are 18+, but I carefully label the ones that are. Again, please be respectful and check all warnings before engaging.

Reblogs and comments make a writer’s day! No matter how “old” the story might be, I love to read your feedback!

A simple key for the stories linked below:

* = Requested

+ = 18+

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. I)

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. II)

A Glimpse of Them (Rooster x Wife!Reader, Goose x Carole) *

You, Me, and Karaoke (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Until I Saw You (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

The First Time (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) + *

Show Me All the Scars You Hide (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

The Proposal (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Honeymoon Shopping (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader) *

Wedding Bells (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hawaiian Breeze (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Tan Lines (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Surprise Gift (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Flight Scare (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Sweet Revenge (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Emergency (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Missing You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Mirror, Mirror (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Save the Last Dance (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Breathe (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hands Off (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Happy Birthday, Bradley! (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Bad Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

It’s A Lovely Day Today (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Let’s Do Some Kissing and Making Up (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Anniversary Treat (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

I’m Here (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Power’s Out (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Government Issued (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

You’re Beautiful (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Always By Your Side (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Birthday Girl (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

In Sickness and In Health (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Bronco Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Only You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

The Better Man (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Piano Lesson (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Special Visit (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

Holding Out For A Hero (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Underneath the Tree (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Looks Like Christmas (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Forever Valentine (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader)

My Birthday Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

The Bradshaw Family

Rooster As A Father (Pt. I)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. II)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. III)

Welcome to the World (Goose x Carole)

That’s Our Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pool Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fun on the Fourth (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Show and Tell (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

A Whole New World (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fall & Halloween With The Bradshaws (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Defending Mommy (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Goose’s First Birthday (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pop! (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Homecomings and Heart-to-Hearts (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Hannix/Hangman & Phoenix

My Favorite Mistake // FWB Pt. 1 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Friends With Benefits // FWB Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What He Tells Himself // FWB Pt. 3 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What She Tells Herself // FWB Pt. 4 (Hangman x Phoenix)

The Night She Stayed // FWB Pt. 5 (Hangman x Phoenix)

SFW Alphabet for Hangman & Phoenix

So This Is Love // FWB Pt. 6 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

The Seresin Family (Hangman x Phoenix)

Little Black Dress (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Fall & Halloween With The Seresins (Hangman x Phoenix)

Never Alone (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Merry Christmas, Darling (Hangman x Phoenix)

A Valentine’s Day to Remember (Hangman x Phoenix)

Locker Room Tryst (Hangman x Phoenix) * +

The Cowboy Rule (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Bob As Your Husband *

No Words (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Senses (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Change of Plans (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

Sprinkles of Love (Bob x Female Reader)

scenes from the kitchen sink (Bob x Female Reader)

Like Peas in a Pod (Bob x Female Reader)

Alternate Universe (AU) Series

Letters to My Love (Bob x Female Reader) // World War II

Si Vis Amari Ama (Rooster x Female Reader) // Ancient Rome +

Playlists

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Hangman & Phoenix

Rhett Abbott

Oneshots/Miscellaneous

SFW Alphabet for Rooster

Hangman As Your Husband

Love in the Air (Rooster x Female Reader)

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range)

a sky full of stars (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

to the nines (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

rhett to the rescue (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

love in the air at the county fair (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

the christmas gift (rhett x wife!reader) *

snow angels (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

all i wanna do is make love to you (rhett x girlfriend!reader) + *

baby’s first christmas (rhett x wife!reader) *

afternoon delight (rhett x girlfriend!reader) +

baby mine (rhett x wife!reader)

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #rooster headcanons #miles teller #hannix #hangman x phoenix #top gun: maverick #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #writing masterlist

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allthingsfangirl101 · 1 month

Text

Rough Patch – Joe Keery

The honeymoon phase in a relationship is real. So is the reality check that always follows once you wake up. Joe and I got married a year ago. The months leading up to the wedding were incredible. I never thought I'd be happier.

When we got back from our honeymoon and things started to settle down, he went back to work and I focused on fixing up our apartment. When he went back to work, he was gone a lot more. It made the first year very difficult for us. He wasn't around and I would get overwhelmed having to take care of everything while he was gone.

I have tried to be a supportive wife, but it's getting harder and harder for me. It's gotten too hard to go months without seeing each other, barely talking on the phone. I couldn't help but get tired of the unanswered texts and missed phone calls. I am tired of celebrating things by myself.

The last time he left was a few months before our first anniversary. He swore up and down that he'd be back in time. Our anniversary is tomorrow so I called him tonight to figure out our plans. He is getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning and will be home by lunch.

"Hey, you."

"Hey, baby. Happy Almost Anniversary!" I giggled excitedly. "I am so excited, I have the entire night planned from the minute you get home to the minute we fall asleep naked in each other's arms. I thought we could go to the restaurant we had our first date. You know, the one you also proposed to me at? What time is your flight supposed to be getting in? I could pick you up from the airport and we could get lunch and then. . ."

"Y/N," Joe cut me off.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going to be back in time."

My stomach dropped at his words. "What are you. . . What do you mean you won't be back in town?"

"No," he sighed. "Sorry."

"But. . ."

"It's not like it's a big deal," he mumbled.

"It's our anniversary, Joe," I said, the tears I was pushing down turning to anger. "It is a big deal. It's the first anniversary of our wedding, Joe. You can't just not come home. What? Am I supposed to celebrate by myself? That's. . . That's pathetic."

"Calm down, Y/N," he sighed. "We can celebrate it when I get home."

"And when will that be?" I demanded. "We've been married a year and I don't think we've spent more than one week sleeping in the same bed. You're never home, Joe."

"I work," he said.

"I'm aware of that but. . ."

"And what am I supposed to do, Y/N?" He challenged. "Not work? Well, if I don't work then we will become homeless. I have to work, Y/N."

"I know you have to work, Joe. But I feel like you see your coworkers more than you see your wife."

"That's normal. It happens."

"It shouldn't," I corrected. "Normal people with normal jobs go home to their wives every night. I can't remember the last time you worked on a job here in town and came home every night to me."

"What are you saying?" He challenged again. "You want me to quit?"

"No," I said quickly. "You know I never want that. I just want to see you more, Joe. I'm sorry for missing my husband."

I hung up the phone, the tears I'd been fighting finally falling. I sat on our bed, tears streaming down my face as I watched my hands shake. I waited for my phone to ring but it never did. I fell asleep that night with dried tears on my face and no messages on my phone.

* * * * *

I woke up on our anniversary completely alone. I forced myself out of bed and barely got myself dressed. I wore a simple pair of leggings and a baggy T-shirt. I slowly cleaned the apartment, going in and out of crying fits.

Around noon, my phone started ringing. When I saw who was calling me, my throat tightened. I let the phone ring as I saw Joe's contact picture. I couldn't bring myself to answer it. When it finally stopped ringing, I slowly walked away from my phone.

The day continued like that. I slowly went through my normal checklist of daily things to do, ignoring my phone that kept ringing. Around 3 o'clock, a delivery man came to the door and delivered flowers. I read the card but it didn't change how I felt.

I'm really sorry about not being there today. Please take yourself out to dinner and really spoil yourself. I will spoil you as soon as I get home. I promise! I love you, Y/N.

With Regret, Your Loving Husband, Joe.

I tossed the card onto the counter and left the flowers there. I didn't have the energy to accept his apology. This is what he always did. He missed important things, sent flowers, and came home acting like nothing happened. First, it was his birthday. Then it was Thanksgiving. He barely made it home on Christmas Day. He missed Valentine's Day. And now he was missing our anniversary.

I ordered some dinner and ate it while watching one of my favorite movies. Even my comfort movie didn't cheer me up. I threw away the trash and laid down on the couch.

I was starting to fall asleep when there was a knock at the door. I slowly paused the movie and went to answer it. When I opened the door, my heart jumped into my throat.

"You're here," I said slowly.

"Hey, baby," Joe smiled weakly.

"Why did you knock on your own apartment?" I asked. "Did you lose your key?"

"No," he chuckled. "I didn't. I was just trying. . ."

"I thought you weren't getting in until late Monday night."

"I wasn't supposed to," he stuttered. "But after our fight last night and you weren't answering your phone this morning, I needed to talk to you. We need to talk about this, Y/N."

"You're missing work." I turned on my heel and walked back into our apartment.

"Y/N," he sighed as he chased after me. "Wait, hang on, baby. Please. Can we talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about?" I demanded as I turned around. "Clearly, your job is more important than our marriage."

"That's not true!" He defended.

"Really?" I challenged. "Joe, yesterday you acted like it wasn't a big deal to miss our first wedding anniversary."

"And that was wrong," he tried to interrupt.

"Do you know how many phone calls you miss? How many of my texts go unanswered? Do you know how many nights I go to sleep, wondering where my husband is and what he's doing? Wondering when I will see him? This hasn't been easy on me, Joe."

"It hasn't been easy on me either," he said.

"You have work to distract you from being alone," I cut him off. "I have nothing. I sit at home all day with nothing to do other than think about and miss my husband."

"You could always get a job." His sentence dropped when he saw the look on my face.

"You really want to go down this road?" I challenged.

"No, but. . ."

"But nothing," I cut him off again. "Joe, I can't keep doing this."

"Wait," Joe said quickly. He grabbed my hands, pulling me closer to him. He lowered his voice and whispered, "This is just a rough patch, baby. We can. . . We can work through this."

"Can we?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Because, right now, I feel like I've been doing all the work. I mean, when was the last time you called me? Joey, I don't know. . ."

Joe cut me off by pulling me closer and crashing his lips onto mine. I knew he was doing this to cut me off so I couldn't end this, but I didn't care. I missed this. I missed being in his arms. I missed being kissed by him. I missed the feeling he gave me as our lips moved in sync. I missed him.

I had tears streaming down my face as I broke the kiss. I took a step back, pulled my hands out of his, and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Joe," I whispered. "I can't be the only one in this relationship anymore. I mean. . . I feel like you don't love me anymore."

"What?" Joe gasped. "Y/N, do you really think. . . How could you. . . Y/N, baby, of course, I still love you. I never stopped. You really think that I stopped loving you?"

"Can you blame me?" My voice broke as the tears continued to stream down my face. Joe stepped up right in front of me and gently grabbed my elbows.

"I am so sorry that I made you think I didn't love you," he whispered. "I love you with all my heart, Y/N. You are the most important person in my life. I never should've made you feel like my job was more important than the love of my life. Please give me another chance. I will prove to you that you are more important. I will make sure you never go a day without knowing just how much I love you. I will do anything to make it up to you."

"I just need you around more," I said, my sob getting stuck in my throat. "I just need my husband."

Joe pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around him and cried into his neck.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered as he started rocking us back and forth. He reached up and started playing with my hair. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I didn't say anything as he led us over to the couch and sat us down, neither one of us letting go of the other.

"I have an idea," he started, his voice still soft. "Tomorrow, we are going to wake up and make breakfast together. Then, after we get ready, I'm going to take you shopping and buy you whatever you want. We'll get lunch and go see that new movie you've been dying to see. We'll get dinner, come home, and spend the rest of the night in bed."

"Joe," I giggled when he changed his voice at the end. I playfully pushed him, but he instantly pulled me back into his arms.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered as he relaxed us into the couch. "And I am so sorry. It will never happen again. I promise, baby."

"I love you too, Joe."

#joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagines #joe keery husband

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queers-gambit · 1 year

Text

Bearer of Bad News

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: devastating news reaches your ears from an unlikely messenger.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.2k+

warnings: spoilers, cursing, OC Aemond, author has a thing for pet names and making hardened men simps for their ladies. not really edited, angst, ambiguous ending because why not. ❗️major season one, episode ten spoilers

"Aemond, please listen to reason, and do not go," you begged your husband as you followed him around your room; hand to your freely-swelling belly firm as if to keep the small babe in place. "Please - I wish I could explain it but I fear for this message you are to carry."

"Hey, hey," Aemond paused in his venture to ready himself for his envoy trip to the Storm Lands; turning to take your hands in his. "Is that what this is about, my sweet? You know you are the love and light of my life," he smirked broadly as if to tease you, "and no Baratheon whore is going to change that. Hmm?"

"Do not remind me of your brother's vile proposal," you sneered, rolling your eyes away from his piercing gaze. "It was disrespectful, at best!"

He chuckled a bit, tugging you in so he could hold your waist. "Come now, my sweet wife. It is just a marriage pact for an alliance. What're the odds I will actually have to marry the broad? Hey?"

"You are not free to marry," you snapped.

"I am honored for the privilege to uphold our ancestral customs. More than one wife is a Targaryen tradition, my pet."

"Aemond."

He smirked deeper, "They are but silly words, my love. Who ever Lord Borros offers will not share my bed, nor affection, but only my name."

"Our name," you reminded, "for I am still your wife. I am carrying your Targaryen child, and you will show me respect."

"Of course, darlin'," he relented with a nod. "I meant no offense."

"And she would share our home, too, is it?"

He shrugged, "Perhaps Aegon will take interest in her."

"Oh, that's cruel."

"I do not know how to satisfy you, my love. Help me out here."

"Go back and refuse your brother because you are married to me, and that is enough!"

"They are just words," he sighed, leaning his forehead to yours as his hand cradled your cheek to keep you close. "Ease yourself, my love, please. 'S not good for the babe."

You huffed lightly, "Does not mean you should carry his message to Lord Borros. Please, Aemond, it storms there all the time and that can be dangerous, do not go. Just - do not leave me alone."

"I will only be gone a single day, my love," he promised with patience, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Long gone was his teasing smirk, seeing and feeling your genuine worry for his wellbeing and deciding it was better to comfort your pregnancy-brain.

Helaena had warned Aemond that once with child, the mind kinda slips, but it is not to be held against the woman for it is just a symptom of creating life in their belly.

"Then will you do me a favor?"

"Hmm?"

"Take Kasta, please."

"Oh, my sweet girl," he chuckled now. "I cannot take your dragon, she is yours, and she still grows. She is not suited for this trip, okay? Worry not, Vhagar will protect and serve me well."

You sighed sadly, "Well, when you've an answer for everything, 'tis a bit hard to be upset."

"You're just worried," he sighed, nodding in understanding. "Hear me, please, my sweet wife. There is nought a thing for you to worry over, there is nothing of concern."

"Well, what if my mother sends an envoy?"

"What if she does?"

"What will you do?"

"Out of respect only for you, I will not engage," he smirked, placating you. "I am eager to return, we might continue to celebrate our child."

"That sounds so strange, my love," you pouted lightly, making him crack a brief smile. "How am I to ensure you are safe? What if I went with you on Kasta?"

"Not a chance in all Seven Hells," he laughed, pecking your forehead twice. "Oh, I love you dearly, my pet, but I am not letting you fly into Storms End - even with a loyal beast like Kasta."

You huffed lightly, "Then take me yourself on Vhagar."

"You are the Princess," he shook his head with a whisper, "and my beloved wife - I will not risk you in any capacity."

"Fine!" You rolled your eyes, pecking his lips before finally pulling back to drop onto the bed - rubbing your swelling belly. "But what if you just didn't go? Hmm? You know?"

"No, pet. Not possible," he answered smoothly, as if he anticipated your words while continuing to ready himself. "What if you were in the Dragon Pit when I returned? So that you might see, as the first, that I am safe and well?"

You thought about it as Aemond pulled leather garb onto his body, smirking at you as he went. "Maybe..."

"Would you like to do my hair, my Princess?" He offered, holding a brush out for you. You snatched it up and grinned to yourself, easing him into a chair before starting on his locks. "Just keep it away from my face, pet. Got a long fly."

"I know how you like it," you smirked, leaning in to kiss his cheek and jaw. "Sit still please." He titled his head back to peck your lips, then settled to allow you to work.

Yet as he did, a hand was never far from you; pinching your hip or lingering near your elbow as you worked. He'd never admit it, but the Prince adore physical touch and often like to express himself through it; relying on most nonverbal communication. When you had his hair secured, you then fixed his eye patch on properly and sighed deeply to yourself, making your husband softly wonder, "What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

"I'll just miss you, I guess," you shrugged. "You truly must go?"

Helaena had also warned Aemond that pregnancy-brain can make some women clingy - though she did not experience it herself.

Prince Aemond sighed as he stood from his chair to hover over you - the damn bean stalk of a man - and held your waist tightly. "I will meet you in the Pit after," he promised. "Be there at sundown, yes?"

"Of course, my Prince," you promised in a whisper, ensuring the words were meant only for him. Trying to prove your love, you told him in High Valyrian, "I will wait for you forever, if I must. But do not make me."

He chuckled, "Oi, hey, watch it, my pretty wife. You know I can hardly resist when you get to talkin' in tongues."

You grinned against his lips, letting him pressing one, two, three more kisses in parting. "Be careful," you whispered, "and please come back to me."

"I will always do what I can to ensure that, sweet wife," he answered just as quietly, nodding sadly. "I must go..."

You sniffled, "All right. Go on, 's all right, love. Be careful in the Storm Lands, it's not named lightly."

Taking one last look at you, Aemond sighed and squeezed your hand, leaving you with his words, "Be in the Pit later."

You nodded, watching him stride towards the door, but something lurched in your stomach. "A-Aemond?" You call, jogging slightly after him. As if anticipating your movements, he turned swiftly and caught you in a tight embrace; letting his hand lock around the back of your neck to keep you steady as his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply to commit your scent to memory.

He sighed, petting over your hair for a moment as you both savored the feeling of one another. When ready, you pulled back with tears shining in your eyes - but willed them not to fall. You knew it was silly to worry over him for a matter such as this, but you felt sickened by his departure, and prayed for his safety.

"No matter what is to come, know that I love you deeply," he swore quietly, petting over your chin with his calloused fingertips; foreheads resting together to keep proximity. "'S all right, it'll be all right, sweetheart."

"Just come home, and I will wish for little else."

He smirked some, "Pregnancy has made you soft, my wife. 'Tis a good look on you."

"Is it?"

"I adore it," he promised with a chuckle. "Now, kiss me, my pretty girl, and I will return by nightfall."

Surging onto your toes, your arms rose to let you hold onto your husbands neck; his lips finding yours in a passionate, frenzied dance. Just before the kiss grew sloppy, Aemond pressed his lips in meaningful, hardened affection - something you physically felt.

He had to pull back or else risk being tempted into staying; petting the side of your face before turning swiftly and slipping out the door. You heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and slowly claimed a seat on your shared bed - that had only just cooled from your warm bodies finding solace and peace in the sheets from the night.

You kept yourself busy for the whole day, trying not to wonder over Aemond's adventures. You took time to sit with Helaena for a bit, visiting with the twins; answering any of the girl's questions about your pregnancy. "You've grown," she cocked her head softly, eyes set on your belly.

"Oh," you smiled a bit, nodding to the newly-crowned Queen, "yes, it seems the babe grew overnight, and only after I could tell the news."

"He's listening," Helaena nodded. "Like he knows."

You chuckled a bit, laying an affectionate hand to your belly to rub slightly. "Yes, I imagine so, sometimes. Though, between you and me," you lowered your tone to lean in, telling her, "I wager it's a girl."

"Really?" Your sister-by-law asked with intrigue. "How special!"

You hummed and nodded, going back to mindless embroidery as the twins played on the floor near your feet. As usual, the Queen stitched a new bug, but you weren't sure of your design because you continued to fall distracted, leaving your pallet a mess of tangled colorful thread. You tried to play it off, but for the rest of the day, you worried for your husband.

Whether pacing the gardens or pacing your bedchambers, you could not remain still as both your back and stomach knotted themself in stress. You could barely be spoken to the whole day, and come the evening meal, your step-mother, the Queen Regent, Alicent Hightower, was reaching for your hand. "Are you alright, dearest girl? You've barely touched your meal this evening."

You nodded stiffly, "Of course I'm alright."

She sighed knowingly, "I did not like it, either, you should know."

"What might that be, Your Grace?"

"Well, for one, Aegon sending Aemond away to parlay with the Baratheons, and offering his hand to any of his daughters."

You sighed, obediently replying, "The King can do as he pleases."

She sighed, muttering, "Not always. I told him he had no right in offering his brother's hand, but he would not hear me. What of Aemond's reaction?"

"To the Prince, Your Grace, they are but pitiful words that he does not mean," you answered, pushing a bit of stewed vegetables around your plate. "To me? They are unjustly cruel and wittingly disrespectful."

She nodded in agreement, "Worry not, dear girl, I will speak to Aegon, and we will design a new strategy for loyalty."

You half-smiled, glancing across the table to the 'King'. You knew your mother was the rightful heir but considering your position amongst the Greens, you wanted to tread as neutrally as possible. Tearing your eyes away from the boy-playing-King, you tried to focus on your meal but how could you when the sun was set in place to sink?

After asking for leave once stomaching three bites of your meal, that Alicent permitted with a soft kiss to your cheek, you stood from the table, gave a short curtsy to the King, nodding to the Queen, and turned on your heel to escape the dining quarters. When alone in your chambers, you were swift to swing a hooded cloak onto your shoulders; hiding your trademark silver locks, and slipping out of the secret passage your room hosted.

Early one night in your marriage, Aemond had shown you - and together, you were pretty sure you had only found half of the Red Keep's secret passages. Yet this was all you needed, jogging through the stronghold to pass onto the darkening street, and head for the Dragon Pit.

Upon arriving, your hair was the only confirmation guards needed to let you pass, and when you got there, Aemond had yet to arrive. With worry, you paced by your dragon's keep and Kasta watched you with curiosity burning in her eyes. She huffed a few times, making you pause to nuzzle her snout - but she grew larger by the day, and it was harder to offer her affectionate cuddles.

She wasn't the size of Vhagar, but something akin to Meleys, or the Red Queen, that had last been seen when smashing the Dragon Pit to shit during Aegon's coronation. The only reason you were bitter about it all was because, for one, you did not think of it, and two, Princess Rhaenys did not take out Alicent and the Greens when she had the chance. You worried not for yourself, for fire cannot kill a dragon, but when the Princess only turned the Red Queen away and soared out of the closing-Pit, you couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed.

Kasta heard it before you did, but a moment after the large, emerald green dragon picked her head up in alarm, you heard the echoing roar of Vhagar returning. Kasta cocked her head and snorted as she stood to her feet, taking only three steps so she stood completely over you protectively.

"It's Vhagar and Aemond, my love," you spoke softly in your Mother's Tongue. "Not to worry."

But the dragon did not back down, and in fact, let steam billow out of her nostrils. Being one of the larger beasts, your dragon was housed with Vhagar and Meleys, but after the Red Queen's departure, Kasta was left alone today... Making you wonder why she was overly protective in that moment.

You tried to chalk it up to you being pregnant and like Aemond, Kasta only wanted to keep you close to ensure your safety. But when your knees buckled some under the tremor of Vhagar's landing, you wondered if you were imagining things, or if the dragon's movements felt much... Shakier.

Kasta growled when you tried to move and with a squeak, you were wrapped in her heaving paw, being drug back under her stoic form. "Kasta!" You reprimanded sharply. "He's my husband, there is no - " But you gasped when Vhagar gave a mighty roar from within the Pit - sand and dirt trembling from the cracked walls from sheer vibration. Kasta raised her head when you took a step back to feel her breast at your head.

When the thundering steps of Vhagar was heard, your dragon bared her teeth in threat - and you suddenly worried for your position. It was obvious tension ran high and if your other-wise very sweet and docile dragon was riled up, you worried she could smell something alarming on Vhagar. But she kept her paw close to you in a cradle, as if to keep you at bay and under her protection.

"Aemond?" You called when you heard someone grunt and pant from down the way; the echo of the Pit proving useful in this moment.

"Love? That you?"

You tried to step out, but Kasta growled and slammed her arm in front of you to prevent your departure. "Oh, Kasta! Not now!"

But you only earned a threatening growl in return.

"What's happening?" Aemond's voice called, his body appearing at the mouth of your dragon's alcove - taking a step back when her large, emerald head whipped around to glower at him. "Is something wrong?" He asked you, cautious of the dragon growling at him. "The baby?"

"Baby's fine, but I was hoping you could tell me what was wrong," you sighed, stroking over your dragon's hide of her inner arm. "Kasta went on the defense the moment she heard Vhagar. Why would that be, husband?"

But you didn't expect Aemond to stiffen, lifting his gaze up and away from you.

"Aemond?" You wondered gently, trying to steer his attention towards you from behind your dragon's arm. "My love, are you all right? What's happened?" The term of endearment from your desperate lips made your husband flinch, turning away from you in full, and making you snap, "Aemond Targaryen, you tell me what's happened - now!"

Kasta gave a guttural growl when your temper spiked. It made your long, silver haired husband pause. When he turned to look at you again, you could see the few tears falling down his cheeks and knew it was not beads of water dripping from his still-sopping hair. Your dragon stepped out when you did, keeping her body between you both and Vhagar - something you noticed acutely.

"Did something happen with Vhagar, my love? Are you injured?" You asked as you finally approached him, but Aemond uncharacteristically flinched away from your hands as you tried to reach for him. "What's this? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"I..." He took a breath, tears brimming in his violet eye to fall helplessly down his pale, sunken cheek. "I did not mean for it to happen, love..."

"Okay," you nodded patiently. "So, there was an accident?"

"In a way," he relented, breathing out tautly before leaning to a wall and sliding down it - the look of despair and dejection etched on his face. You slowly approached him. "When I tell you what has happened, I will lose you, too. You will leave, and I will be unable to stop you - but you've got to know how bloody sorry I am."

"Aemond," you sighed. "You're starting to frighten me, my love. What's happened? Please tell me, are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt... But you said so long as I returned here, to you, you could not ask for anything else, right?" He asked breathlessly, watching you nod as you slowly lowered yourself beside him; facing him so you could watch his face. "Does that still stand... If I've made a terrible mistake that will effect you, too?"

You sighed, "All right. Hey," you nodded, reaching for his trembling, freezing cold hand, "you can do a lot in this lifetime, Aemond Targaryen, but very little will shake the foundation of love that we have. What has happened that's so bad, hmm?"

He whispered, "Might've... Potentially started the war..."

You sighed sadly, sat in the sand, "Oh, Aemond... C'mon, love, you were just to carry a message to Lord Baratheon."

"I know."

"So, how is it you potentially started the war? Hmm?" You shuffled closer to him, trying not to let your heart shrivel from the way he visibly recoiled. "The hell's going on? This isn't like you - we're a team, Aemond. Why're you shutting me out? See - this is in part why I wanted to go, then you'd have no need to explain anything."

He nodded mutely, taking a staggering breath in that worried you more. Aemond didn't often show regret, but here, before you now, it was obvious the young Prince was drowning in it.

"Aemond, please, you're worrying me, my love," you whispered, trying to warm his hands in yours. But still, he could not meet your eyes, and his hands were deadly limp.

"I don't know where to start," his voice crackled into a whisper.

"From the beginning, please," you nodded, readjusting slightly to better look at him. "Sweetheart, just take your time, but please, do not shut me out. I cannot help you if I do not know what plagues you."

In a broken whisper, he admitted, "Once I tell you, you won't think to call me sweetheart - or sweet anything, again. Gods," he breathed, chuckled without humor, "I did not think I would miss something so much but the idea of never hearing you call me a pet name again sends my stomach to my feet."

"My Lord husband is a sweet man," you slowly reached for his face, caressing his jaw so he looked at you, "though perhaps only I get the pleasure of bearing witness to it," you whispered in return, letting your thumb caress his skin. "I will be the judge of what name befits him, for I am the one calling him. But I will need to know what startles him so. I will need to know so I can try to help him through his grief."

He blinked a few times, but your image became blurred as emotion coated his throat, "Please, just... Do not leave me after you know."

Though Aemond might not have felt true, gut-wrenching guilt over what had become of the young Prince Luke, he feared telling you, and feared what would happen once you knew. He knew that he could not, nor would he want to, stop you from fleeing the capital. And after today, the least he could do is assist smuggling you out. The very idea made his stomach clench; where he once planned a future with you and your child, now, his mind flashed with the idea of helping you get back to your mother.

Speaking of, he was jarred into reality by your voice asking, "Did you kill my mother?"

"No," he spoke swiftly.

"Then there is little to worry over," you sighed. "Less you killed my little brothers, then, that is... Different...?" You trailed off when his head hit the wall behind him, restraining the emotion from his face as he kept his head tilted to the side in an effort to avoid you. "Aemond? Hey, look at me, please... Please, Aemond, did something happen? Has something happened to my brothers?"

His hands trembled in yours, his throat croaking, "Yes."

You had to pause, trying to keep a level head. "All right, well, is that the accident you speak of?"

"It is..."

"This is... The accident you caused that's potentially started the war?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Answer me, Aemond, please. Is this the accident you speak of that has caused the start of the war? Speak plainly."

Your husband paused to swallow thickly, finally admitting, "Yes. I-It is, my love."

You let out a staggering breath that refused to ease itself. You felt panic overwhelming your chest as worst case scenarios played themselves out in your mind, vaguely feeling Aemond reaching for you as panic took over. His words were muffled seemingly beneath water, leaving you staggering for rational thought and breath. Yet none would come to you - could come to you. Your husband had managed control of your weeping form, turning to switch places; leaving you pressed to the wall as he tried to coach you through your interrupted-breathing.

When the initial shock wore off, your hands were gripping his biceps tightly, demanding, "What happened? What did you do? Please, please, Aemond, you're the - you're the only one. The only one who knows the truth. Please, tell me in full, and tell me in truth - what happened to my brothers?"

He nodded, whispering, "It's not going to be easy to hear, my love."

"I need to," you argued, tugging the sleeve of his squeaky-wet leather jerkin. "Tell me, please, I deserve to know. W-What has become of my baby brothers, Aemond? Please tell me! I have a right!"

He nodded, eye tinged red from emotion, admitting, "I arrived in Storms End before your mother's envoy. I brought the King's words but then came reports of another dragon heading in our direction... So, we waited," he swallowed thickly.

"Who was it? Who did my mother send?"

He sighed, "Luke."

"Gods," you whispered, nodding as you sniffled. "So, Luke arrives, and what?"

"I let my anger get the best of me, pet..."

= Storms End // hours prior =

"Where's the bloody Maester!?" Lord Borros demanded, glaring to his court as a man bowed and rushed away to retrieve the one man who could read Rhaenyra's letter.

Aemond did not lift his murderous gaze from Prince Luke's form, making the 14-year-old boy wrap his fist around the hilt of his sword. The Maester jogged into the courtroom, and yet, the Prince did not lift his violet eye from the boy; standing curiously beside a woman with dark hair - assuring the Prince this was one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. Luke found this curious, knowing Aemond was married to his white-haired sister... So, why was he found in low conversation with the pretty Lady Baratheon?

The Maester read the Black Queen Rhaenyra's words, glancing at Luke, before bending at the waist to mutter to Lord Borros the letter's contents. When the words registered, the Baratheon Lord was snarling, "'Remind' me of my father's oath." Thunder rumbled around them. "King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact." He looked pointedly to Aemond and his daughter, making Prince Luke's jaw clench. The Lord leaned forward on his 'throne', snarling, "If I do as your mother bids..." His head turned to regard the remaining three daughters left lined up, "Which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord... I am not free to marry. I am already betrothed, and by all accounts, Prince Aemond is married to my sister, the Princess Y/N Velaryon."

"She's a Targaryen Princess now, boy, and you should know," Aemond smirked from across the hall, "that taking more than one wife is an honored familial custom."

Borros continued before any more retaliation could be spat, noting to Luke, "So, you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your Mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

Aemond found the response rather poised, decently poetic.

Luke decided to take the diplomatic route and respond, "I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord."

Aemond smirked at the response, watching the kid turn to depart the Storm's End hall - but could not resist the confrontation, and called, "Wait..." And when Luke turned, Aemond continued, "My Lord Strong." He watched for a baited reaction, and when Luke turned with anger marring his young features, stalking forward again, Aemond could not hold his tongue any longer. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

The boy steeled his feet, understanding that he was being baited now. "I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge," Aemond taunted. "No," he decided, lips quirked in a smirk. Then, he reached to palm his eye patch off, revealing the gleaming sapphire he used as replacement, "I want you to put out your eye." He paused a moment to stare at the boy, who looked startled from the reveal, then continuing, "As payment for mine." When Luke appeared purely startled, Aemond finished, "One will serve."

He pulled his dagger from his belt and tossed it towards the Prince; letting it clatter to the stone floor in an ominous echo.

"I would not blind you, the only curtesy I would extend on behalf of my sweet wife," Aemond spoke levelly, a clap of thunder punctuating his words. The look of fear over Luke's face was enough to make his blood sing, but still, it wasn't all he wanted, so, he told the boy after tisking his tongue, "Plan to make a gift of it to my mother."

You fucking Mama's boy, Luke raged in his head.

"No," he decided to speak instead, his voice firm in refusal despite the want to crack from pressure.

Aemond spoke over the rumblings of the storm that raged outside, "Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Lord Borros demanded, seeing the challenge brew to a knew height - and fearing for the rumors surrounding the One Eyed Prince. He knew the other rumors surrounding the loss of his eye, but while many circulated, each had to do with the Princess Rhaenyra's two dark-haired sons.

The tension was nearly tangible.

Something in Aemond snapped, crackled, and popped out of his heart - sending him surging forward as he cried, "Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!"

He stooped expertly to snatch up his dagger, standing tall as Luke armed himself with his sword, and the Lord of Storms End rose from his chair, shouting, "Not in my hall!" Only then did Aemond come to a halt, giving Luke a real up-close look at the damage he inflicted as a small child, in defense of his brother and cousins. "The boy came as an envoy!" Borros reminded them all. "I'll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon." Thunder clapped, lightning flashed. "Now."

When the four knights who escorted him into the hall moved into action, Luke sheathed his sword, offered his uncle one last stale look, and departed the hall - with another glance over his shoulder as he went. Aemond let his lips pull into a smirk, and his fingers deftly flipped his branded dagger back into its sheath at his hip.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

"All right," you sighed, sitting with Aemond beside you, hip on hip, thigh against thigh, and his arm laid over the seam of your legs and let both of yours hold his. "So, you lost your temper and threatened the boy. Hardly material that would start battles."

"I didn't get to the worst part..."

You sighed, "Does it explain the dragon's odd behavior?"

"I think," he whispered, pressing his lips over your forehead. "I don't think I can tell you more."

"You're going to have to," you sighed. "Though, by the pain it causes you, Gods, do I wish anyone else could explain it. But you know what really happened, my love. I need the truth of the matter."

"You'll get it," he promised, "I just need a moment... Where you don't hate me in full."

"Aemond," you tisked in worry. "Please stop making that assumption. I need the truth, I need the details - you're owed fair judgement. And now, unless Vhagar decides to start talking, only you can tell me. Borros won't, and I imagine the dragons are involved - or Kasta would not be so defensive."

He nodded mutely, leaning in to inhale the top of your head. "I'm truly sorry... Let me start there. A-And it wasn't my intention to hurt anyone, I only wanted t-to frighten the boy. I could not have my revenge for myself, but I wasn't satisfied in it all."

"Might I say something?"

He nodded, glancing at you once before fearing for the intensity behind your eyes. "Your eye, or lack thereof, has never once taken away from you. I know the ridicule you endured, my love, and I am truly sorry for it, and while I cannot undo years of torment and trauma, please understand that I do not find you lacking. I love you, Aemond, with or without your eye."

He sighed and let his hand drift to pull your knees in; letting you lean into his lap in an effort to be closer. "I know neither of us wanted to marry the other initially, but Gods, have I been grateful for it - for you. I need you to know that I do love you, and I am so fucking sorry."

You sighed. "All right, you're sorry, we love each other, we're on the same page. Only... You seem to know what happened, and I cannot help you yet. But for whatever it's worth, while I wish you hadn't, I understand your want for revenge. I am sorry for what my brothers did, and the price you paid."

He sighed against your forehead, "I am sorry for what I did today."

"Let me pass judgement, my love."

With a heavy sigh, Aemond delivered the final, devastating blow. "It was storming profusely - wind, rain, and thunder. The whole lot, making it terrible to see in... Luke had escaped on Arrax but he was tense, flying sporadically, and I know this because Vhagar and I pursued them. I only meant to scare him and give chase, and he was smart enough to dive for the canyons. Vhagar is too big to follow, so, we lost him for a time..."

= Storm Lands // hours prior =

Vhagar stretched her wings to their full span as she and her master flew over the canyon; both searching for the boy riding the terribly small (by comparison), paler dragon. Over the howling winds, sideways rain, and clapping thunder, Aemond called in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

But there was no visibility, and soon, the thick storm clouds swallowed them whole. Aemond still looked from side to side, and perhaps, his dragon had understood his words; because in the next few moments, everything went perfectly wrong. Having used the clouds and raging storm to their advantage, Arrax and Luke had technically been in the clear, but the smaller dragon rebelled first.

Over the winds, Aemond heard Luke shouting in High Valyrian, "No, Arrax!" The next second, a blast of fire shot out from the pale dragon and seared into the neck, jaw, and face of the much larger dragon of war. The challenge was set, and Aemond heard his nephew as they flew away, "No, Arrax! Obey me!"

But Vhagar had accepted the challenge, and there was no controlling the wild beasts. Aemond felt the shift as his dragon roared with her temper flaring, understanding she meant to pursue, and begged her, "NO! No, no, no, no!" The ancient dragon turned, roaring with challenge. "NO, Vhagar! No! Serve me, Vhagar! No!"

The largest dragon known to the Targaryen world then dove off at a sharp angle, ignoring all commands her rider gave; leaving him struggling and dangling from his saddle as the storm swallowed them. In return, Arrax flew upwards with Luke; breaking through the dark clouds to reach the air above the storm, and for a brief moment, found the beauty in the bright sun above the clouds.

He looked around with heaving breath, praying to the Seven that they had evaded and gotten away from Vhagar - just seconds before the legendary beast was breaking out from the storm clouds to cut at another angle. When she did, she was in line with Arrax, and just as the young Prince Luke gave a shriek of fright, the pursing dragon had opened her jaws and swiftly chomped over the entire body of Arrax.

"VHAGAR!" Aemond's voice cracked with pure panic, feeling powerless on his dragon-mount. "No! No!" He muttered between clenched teeth when the truth of reality settled over him. Vhagar gave another bellow into the air, rightening her wings, and letting Aemond glance over her shoulder to spy the last bloody bits of Arrax' wings and tail-tip falling to the ground below.

As his head turned forward, Aemond's eye began to blink rapidly to restrain his immediate panic - fearing for the repercussions of his dragon, and how his loss of control was sure to be his fault.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

Your lungs protested for air as your heart felt like it was snapping in two, body numb as you could not believe the words that reached your ears. You had doubled over to cry into your pulled-in knees, sobbing helplessly as you rocked slightly to try and keep blood pumping. Your mind refused to accept your baby brother was dead and gone, but your mind screamed that your husband had killed him.

Yet you couldn't feel yourself anymore.

All you could understand was pain. Suffocating confusion.

And then, outrage set in.

"Why?" You demanded through your tears. "Why? Why would you fucking do this, Aemond? Oh, my God - what were you thinking!?"

"I do not know," he mourned quietly. "I am so sorry."

"He was a child," you wept, shaking there after when realization sunk in. "O-Oh, my God, I-I'm pregnant - t-the-they will - they will seek revenge through o-our children. Aemond, for all the Gods, wh-what have you done? What has Vhagar done?"

"The worst we can imagine," he admitted, tears streaming down his cheek. "I cannot express my guilt, my wife."

"For what?" You couldn't help but snap. "Because you fear for the rift it will put between us, or because you are truly sorry for the loss of your own nephew?"

Aemond nodded, whispering, "What if it is both?"

You whined and dropped your head back to your knees and arms. Kasta was heard growling when your sobs reached her, but she did not dare move from between you and Vhagar. It was like she could smell Luke's blood on Vhagar's lips and teeth, and she wanted to protect you from the discovery.

But you had begged Aemond to tell you the truth. You wanted to know... He warned you of the pain, and you still pushed.

And now you were left with the knowledge that your husband's dragon had eaten your baby brother. Luke: sweet, sweet Luke who could do no real harm - barring his adrenaline rush years ago when he used his brother's dagger to slash Aemond's eye out.

Barring that, and he was the sweetest boy who could do no harm!

You were confused and mortified, outraged, sad, overwhelmed, but so fucking regretful. Regret for not being there for him longer, and then guilt for leaving your little brothers. Never had you wanted the burden your mother bore, and luckily, after your marriage to Aemond, she focused 100% of her energy into grooming Jace as her heir.

And Luke was to be heir of Driftmark, the next (legitimate) Lord of the Tides! He was to learn to command a ship and once the Sea Snake was able, he'd learn the ways of the seas from the very best. He was a child who had his whole life ahead of him, leaving behind an older sister, unborn niece-or-nephew, young fiancé, older brother... Loving mother, devoted step-father.

All of whom would be devastated by this news.

How cruel this world was, and how cruel the Gods could be.

"Please," Aemond begged softly.

"What am I to do, Aemond?" You demanded, staring back at him with a range of emotion playing across your face. "My baby brother, Aemond, what am I to do?"

He shook his head, offering, "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. I understand how this must make you feel and I would help you and Kasta get out best I can - "

"Aemond?" You snapped. "Am I to understand that you are to be away with me?"

He shook his head slightly, "Why would you stay?"

You scoffed, "Does my loyalty to you mean nothing? Why do you think I did not join Princess Rhaenys when she escaped? And stood on that fucking platform beside you, while they crowned your traitorous brother? Do you think so little of me?"

"But this is different," he argued, ignoring your insult.

"It is! It's much different! And I am devastated, heartbroken, and I would think my husband would want to support me - "

"Do you even want me, anymore?" He asked, brows crinkled as he wore desperation well.

"I am bound to you for life, I took vows... Whether I like it or not, my place has been, and is now, at your side. Your brother would sooner see me dead if I were to flee now - "

"I would never let him hurt you," Aemond insisted, letting his hand hold your cheek securely. "Should you wish to return to your mother's side, I understand, and at the least, I can make sure you get out of the city."

You let your lips roll between your teeth to bite for a moment, then spoke softly as you reached up to hold his wrist, "I am unsure what to feel or do. In a perfect world, what would you see us do now?"

"I never would've taken Vhagar out after Luke," he spoke, "so that we never would have to be here."

"Well, we cannot change the fact that your dragon disobeyed you, right?" He nodded stiffly. "You did not have control, did you?"

"I swear to all the Gods - Old and New - that I did not have control and that I tried to stop her best I could. Both Arrax and Vhagar broke free of our control, did their own bidding. Arrax only wanted to protect his master, and so did Vhagar after the fire..."

"So," you sniffled, eyes red and puffy to slowly pull his hand down to hold in his lap, "we can place no real blame on you... Save for your foolish and fucking childish pursuit that started all of it," you sighed, leaning back into the wall and closing your eyes. "Your dragon ate my brother, Aemond."

"I know..."

"She... Ate him," you repeated, knowing the words stung but for a moment, you wanted him to hurt as you did. "There is no body for us to burn! Nothing for us to mourn!"

"I know," he whispered again, leaning back to the wall beside you.

"What am I to do?" You begged, tears falling helplessly. "If I leave you now or ever, I will be a traitor to you and your family, but if I weren't to return to my mother's side, I would be branded a traitor to her and her allies. Please, Aemond. I don't know what to do."

He sighed, sniffling, "I do not know... But should you choose to stay, I promise not to abandon you. I wouldn't ever leave your side, I would be the husband who deserves a wife like you. It would be my duty to make sure your life is easier as you bring life into this world."

You nodded as you wrapped an arm around your swelling belly, "I'd really like for our kid to know their father."

Aemond sighed, pausing for a moment before admitting, "I'd like our child to know our love - not the deception my mother and brother show their spouses."

You nodded, leaning into his shoulder, "I'd like that, too."

"I need to ask the impossible of you, my love," he whispered into the top of your head. "And know that I am sorry for the pain it will cause."

You sighed in defeat and snipped, "Just ask it."

"Would you... Would you please stay?"

The silence almost echoed around you both; his question hanging in the air only to be punctuated by a warning growl from Kasta, watching a shifting Vhagar move for her alcove with the intention of rest. Your eyes flashed in the bright torchlight, and Aemond watched as tears filled them to slide silently down your cheeks. Then he turned his head, and caught sight of a splatter of blood on his dragon's lips, chin, and chest. The silence prolonged around her thundering steps.

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 11 months

Note

Do one of reader is Uhtred’s daughter and fell in love with sihtric. Marry him in secret and Uhtred ends up freaking out when he finds out but then accepts. With smut is a cute scene from Uhtred's future with his grandson!

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, Sihtric's breeding kink…

Pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: see request!

Word count: 2,7k

Note: so, the ages don't add up if you look at the series and books, but then SKMD also ignored the character's ages, so just go with the flow here ;) thank you for your request! I hope you like it! I added a few more grandchildren though because... well... it's Sihtric lmao

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @valeskafics

'Only for you, my wife, my goddess.'

******************

'Your father will kill us both, my love.'

'I simply do not care.'

'Are you sure? Because this means forever with me, do you really want that?'

'You know I do. How could I possibly ever want someone else when I have you, Sihtric Kjartansson. My handsome warrior,' you smiled, pulling him closer, 'my soon to be irresistible husband,' you giggled, kissing his ever so warm lips while brushing your hands through his soft, recently washed hair, messing up the braids he had just finished.

'Okay, if you are sure about me,' Sihtric chuckled, blushing, 'tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow,' you nodded, and pulled Sihtric down into bed with you.

Tomorrow you were to be husband and wife, so you both agreed that today, when you were still only just betrothed, you should perhaps hump a few times more than usual. Not that anything would be really different after tomorrow, but today was the last day that you could praise Sihtric by saying 'my future husband is such a good boy'. And if there was one thing Sihtric had enjoyed after he proposed, it was asking, 'is this how my future wife wants me to please her?' before he went down on you.

It is true that your father, Uhtred, Lord Uhtred, did not know about your plans to wed, and there was a good chance he would kill you.

You met Sihtric a few months ago, after your father had accepted his oath of loyalty and brought him back home as a member of his household troops. You fell in love quickly, but didn't tell your father about it. He did suspect you and Sihtric were maybe more than just friends, much to his disgrace, and he thought that by sending Sihtric away to deliver messages back and forth between the lands, and so keeping him away from you, you would simply forget about him.

But, unfortunately for your father, instead of forgetting about each other, you and Sihtric desperately wanted to get married as soon as possible. A little reassurance, so you knew your husband would always come back to you, and so Sihtric knew he always had a wife to come back for. But it would also mean that you, as his wife, were allowed to travel with him. So, that, and the fact you could brag about claiming to have the best looking man in Coccham as your husband, which Finan would strongly argue against, was more than enough reason for you to marry.

*****************

'Why don't we go back to your home?'

'Our home,' Sihtric corrected you.

'Our home,' you smiled and rolled your eyes.

'Because yours is closer,' Sihtric smiled as he kissed you, his recently wedded wife, 'and why waste any time?' he grinned.

Sihtric had his own home, and as he had no one to look after, you'd usually go there if you simply wanted to hump, and it didn't take long before you had seen every corner and every piece of furniture several times already. Sihtric's home was the safest option, and also where you would live with him after today, but you both couldn't wait any longer.

Sihtric persuaded you easily with a kiss and threw you over his shoulder before he stepped into your home. The home you still shared with your father, but Uhtred was out scouting with Finan, so you had the entire home for yourself until late night.

Sihtric knew the way to your bed all too well, for he had often snuck in at night to see you, when Uhtred was asleep. But you had also escaped your father's overprotectiveness by sneaking out in the dead of night to find Sihtric.

'My wife,' Sihtric smiled after he had thrown you onto the bed, biting down on his lip as he spread your knees and positioned his body in between, 'my beautiful wife,' he whispered before he leaned in to kiss you, 'I will honour you and I will love you, always.'

'And so will I,' you said, moving your hands into his hair and pulling him close, eagerly deepening the kiss.

'And I will give my wife as many children as she wants,' Sihtric smiled cheekily, his fingers squeezing into your soft thighs as he kissed your neck.

'Oh, gods,' you moaned, pulling his hair again as you arch your back lightly, 'I want as many as you can give me, husband. Fill me with them, now, please, Sihtric.'

'In time,' Sihtric teased, 'first I need to inspect every inch of my new wife.'

You groaned in frustration and cursed something at him, to which Sihtric smirked. He knew you were impatient, but he loved feeling wanted and desired, and you made him feel just that. He was eager for you, the same as you were for him, but he wanted nothing more than letting you know how he adored you.

Sihtric made quick work of the light, thin dress you had worn for your secret wedding and your undergarments. When he had seen you earlier that day, walking towards him, holding a little bouquet of flowers in your hands, he already couldn't wait for this moment. To have you underneath him, watching you beg for him and curse as he explores your skin with his mouth; pecking, sucking, licking, biting and kissing every inch of you. And you loved it as much as he did. If anything, Sihtric knew how to please you and push you over your edge in no time.

'Is this how my wife wishes to be pleased?' Sihtric asked, kissing up your thigh and moving your legs up over his shoulders, before you felt his lips peck lightly at your core.

'Yes! Gods,' you moaned, as you felt his soft tongue exploring you in all the right ways, making you roll your eyes back in pleasure. 'Such a... such a good boy, my- my husband, so good,' you murmured, slightly bucking your hips, wanting and needing more of him, to which Sihtric firmly grabbed your hips, burying his tongue deeper, drinking you in all the way as he sucked, licked and kissed your sweet spot.

'Sihtric,' you breathed heavily, pulling his hair, 'please.'

'Yes, my love?' he smiled, looking up from between your legs, 'what is it?'

'Need you… I-' you spoke in between heavy breaths, 'need you inside me, baby, please.'

Sihtric chuckled satisfied and crawled back up to you, kissing you intensely, wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. And he took off his breeches, rather clumsily, as you wouldn't leave his lips. And when you felt him smile, you couldn't help but smile too, knowing how lucky you were to call this sweet boy your husband.

When you were both completely naked, covered under the furs, Sihtric asked how you wanted him today. To which you said, 'the way you like it, my love.'

And so he did, flipping you over and pulling you on top of him. Watching you with loving, yet heavy eyes of pleasure as you enjoyed him all inside you while his hands trailed over your body, lovingly squeezing and grabbing wherever he could as you pleased him just the way he liked it.

'I-I,' Sihtric's breath hitched, 'I'm close, my love.'

'Then you know what to do,' you smiled and spoke in between heavy breaths, trailing your hands up his muscular chest, to his broad shoulders. And once you had grabbed onto his warm skin, Sihtric flipped you over on your back again with a light chuckle as you giggled. You watched your husband on top of you, enjoying you as if it were Valhalla on earth to him. His groans and sighs in your ear as he thrusted into you made you scream out his name, which was enough to tip Sihtric over his edge too, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he spilled inside you, not wanting to waste a drop of him while he filled you up.

'So- so beautiful,' he sighed out of breath, 'so good, you, my wife, so perfect for me,' he murmured through his high as he nuzzled your neck slowly.

'So are you,' you smiled out of breath, running your fingers through his hair, 'made for me, you were made for me, to be my husband.'

'I was,' he agreed with a chuckle, 'just for you. Only for you, my wife, my goddess,' Sihtric whispered before he kissed you softly, 'I love you, eternally.'

'As do I, sweeting, I love you, until Valhalla.'

'And ever after?'

'And ever after,' you smiled and pulled his lips back to yours.

Sihtric pulled out slowly but stayed on top of you, pecking your lips and face with a smile as he watched you underneath him, glowing, satisfied, happy and safe. Your bliss unfortunately lasted merely seconds, when suddenly the door to your room flung open.

'Father?!' you screamed, shocked that he was home already and youimmediately reached for the furs, but Sihtric beat you to it.

'Lord!' Sihtric said, wide eyed, quickly covering you up with the furs while you tried to do so yourself.

'What is this?!' Uhtred hissed, eyes wide as a wild animal, 'Sihtric!' he shouted as he stepped towards the bed, 'that is my daughter!' he huffed, pulling Sihtric off you by yanking his ear.

'Lord!' Sihtric raised his voice suddenly, quickly reaching for one of the furs to cover himself up as Uhtred dragged him away from you.

'Father! Stop!' you jumped up, also desperately clinging onto the fur around your body.

'What is this!' Uhtred shouted again, confused and horrified by the sight of his daughter and the boy, one of his most loyal men, both naked in the same room, 'what is he to you?!'

'He,' you said curtly, looking at Sihtric, 'is my husband.'

Uhtred darted his eyes between you and Sihtric, before he finally settled his deadly stare into the eyes of your handsome husband.

'Your husba-,' he paused, 'no he is not!' Uhtred exclaimed.

'No, I am not, lord,' Sihtric panicked, almost dropping the fur that barely covered him.

'Yes he is! Sihtric,' you scoffed, 'you are!'

'Are you?' Uhtred asked, threateningly, 'her husband?'

'I- I,' Sihtric stammered.

'You lie to me?' Uhtred's voice suddenly calmed, placing his hand onto Sihtric's shoulder as a power play, while you quickly dressed yourself.

'I didn't mean to, lord,' Sihtric flinched lightly, as if expecting a slap across the face.

'Who married you?'

'I'm s-sorry,' Sihtric said, closing his eyes and awaiting his punishment.

'Who married you?' Uhtred asked again, raising his voice.

'Father, stop it!' you pulled his hand off Sihtric, who you quickly pulled back towards you as his trembling hands held onto the fur, 'you can't behave like this!' you scowled.

You took Sihtric's trembling hand in yours as you placed your other hand on his cheek, caressing it softly while you brought his face to rest against your own.

'No one will hurt you, my love,' you whispered, 'I promise.'

Uhtred watched the couple, bewildered, and he rubbed his hands over his face, awaiting an explanation.

'Beocca married us,' you said, stepping in front of Sihtric as you turned to face your father, 'this morning.'

'This morning?'

'Yes,' you said curtly, 'and we have consummated the marriage already so there is nothing you can do about it anymore.'

'Oh, I can,' Uhtred huffed, his hand reaching for Serpent-Breath's hilt.

'But you will not!'

'Give me one reason.'

'Because I love him!' you said, 'and he loves me.'

Uhtred dropped his hand slowly, away from his sword and looked at you and Sihtric in silence for a moment.

'Is that true?' he asked Sihtric, 'you love her?'

'I do, lord.'

Uhtred sighed, smacking his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

'What is the plan then? You both live here?' Uhtred grimaced.

'No, we agreed that I will move in with Sihtric.'

'Absolutely not,' Uhtred snapped.

'Why not!'

'I can not think of you sharing your bed with him every night!'

'So, then what,' you scoffed, 'you want us to live here so you can hear it every night?'

'No!' Uhtred felt his stomach twist at the thought.

'I will live with him, father, it is already decided,' you said calmly, reaching behind you to lace your fingers with Sihtric's, who was blushing heavily. 'Do we have your blessings?' you asked.

'My blessings?' Uhtred scoffed and thought quietly for a long moment before he huffed, 'fine.'

You both snapped your faces up to Uhtred, who still grimaced lightly.

'Thank you!' you smiled widely.

'Thank you, lord,' Sihtric smiled, 'we- we will name our first son after you.'

'What? No!' you pulled a face.

'No you will not!' Uhtred scowled.

'We will not,' Sihtric mumbled, squeezing your hand softly.

Uhtred felt sick again and left as fast as he could, after which you both chuckled nervously before Sihtric helped you pack up your belongings, moving everything over to his home.

*****************

five years later

*****************

'How many more are ye planning? Sweet Jesus,' Finan chuckled as he held your youngest.

'No more, for now,' you sighed and looked up at your husband, 'my body is tired,' you chuckled lightly.

'I know, my love,' Sihtric smiled sweetly at you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, 'you have already given me more than I could dream of.'

'Aye, same goes for him,' Finan cocked his head towards Uhtred, who was face flat on the grass, piled under your three other children, who all tried to throw soft punches at him.

Sihtric had truly kept his promise, and you found out he already got you pregnant on your wedding day. You gave birth to a beautiful boy, named Cynlaef, who, as young as he was, already started to take after his father; charming and always in a mood to play pretend fights with grandpa Uhtred and uncle Finan, but it was uncle Osferth who always got the most beatings.

Only two months after you had given birth to your first son, you found out you were pregnant, again. Sihtric was ecstatic, Osferth surprised, Finan a little shocked, Uhtred still appalled at the thought of his daughter with Sihtric, or with any man for that matter, and you were happy but also nervous. You loved your married with kids life, but you worried about providing for your children when Sihtric wasn't there. You had expressed your worries to your father, but he told you there was nothing to worry about, except that a battle would soon approach and Sihtric had to go.

And so you gave birth, without your husband by your side, to a daughter who would be named Gunnora. Sihtric had returned several weeks after you had given birth, and from that moment it was already clear that Gunnora was daddy's girl, and whoever would end up betrothing her, would have a hard time convincing Sihtric. What Sihtric wasn't hard to be convinced of, was that you had missed him and you desperately wanted him. Which once again led to pregnancy and resulted in another boy named Björn. A few months after Björn was born, you became pregnant again, and so there would be another boy; Torsten.

As much as you loved your children, you had enough and discussed with Sihtric how you simply couldn't birth another child, at least, not for a few years. Although Sihtric loved seeing you pregnant with his pups, he understood and agreed, not telling you how he was sometimes so exhausted he would fall asleep when he actually had to guard the fortress. And so, shortly after your last birthed child, you found a healer, who gave you a potion to drink each time after you had humped. And luckily for you, it worked wonders.

Uhtred, your father, truly loved his grandchildren and would stop by whenever he could. But you could tell four grandkids was a lot, even for him. He walked back over to you with your eldest on his back, your daughter in his arms and your other son got dragged over the grass as he clung onto Uhtred's ankle.

'Lord,' Finan snorted, 'your daughter has something to tell you,' he taunted, riling Uhtred up.

'No!' Uhtred shouted, exhausted, 'no more children! Please!' to which Finan laughed loudly and slapped Sihtric's shoulder, who also couldn't help but laugh at Uhtred's sheer panic.

'No,' you laughed, 'Finan is just messing with you, father, there will be no more children for at least a while,' you reassured him.

'Bless the gods,' Uhtred smiled with relief as he set Gunnora back down on her feet, who immediately ran to Sihtric, claiming his attention away from you.

'Mother!' Cynlaef exclaimed as he jumped off Uhtred's back, 'grandpa said I can fight with him! Just like dad!'

'Did he?' you gave Uhtred a disapproving look, who grinned and shrugged. 'We'll talk about that when you are old enough, son,' you said, 'now, go wash your hands. All of you, it's time for dinner. And you all know the rules, no talks about battles at the table.'

'Aye,' Finan said as he caught your hard stare, 'I won't say a word.'

'Nor speak of more children,' Uhtred commented.

'That too,' you laughed. Sihtric rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss, before he followed your children inside, where you watched him make order of the chaos as he sat them all down at the table. And you thought that maybe another child wouldn't be so sad. But just not this year.

'Maybe next year,' you smiled to yourself and took a seat in between your irresistible husband and your softened father.

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #the last kingdom #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fanfic

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year

Text

A hard bargain

Summary: You knew how he could get when he was focus on a case. But he forgot your ten year wedding anniversary, leaving you sitting alone over the dinner you had prepared to celebrate. And even though you were sad, disappointed, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at him when you woke up with him in your bed the next morning.

Pairing: Tim Rockford x fem!wife reader

Wordcount: 2k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, fluff, kissing, smut (unprotected sex (though it's more implied than actually written out)), cockwarming, feelings

A/N: So this happened lmao I can't believe I wrote a fic about a character in a commercial

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fic updates

You stared at the candle as it flickered once, twice before it finally went out. Your chin rested on your hand as you leaned with your elbow on the fully decorated table, the dinner, his favourite meal, cold and your glass of wine full, the bottle almost empty.

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, releasing a long sigh as you exhaled, your eyes finding the clock across the room when they opened.

00:34 am.

Your husband had officially forgotten about your anniversary.

Again.

You did not ask for much. You knew he loved his job. He was one of the best detectives in his department. But he had the tendency to get lost in his cases. Sometimes you did not see each other for days, the only memory his arms around your body as he slipped into bed long after midnight, only to be gone again by the time your alarm went off in the morning.

But you had seen his calendar for today. Your ten year wedding anniversary marked in big letters on top with dinner marked at 8 pm sharp.

You and Tim had met twelve years ago on a blind date you had both been set up on by your closest friends. The rest, as they say, was history.

You knew he loved his job, yet you couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he did not even talk to you today apart from two text messages, the messages you had sent him in the last three hours not even marked as read. Maybe he finally had a breakthrough in his latest case and forgot… No. That still wouldn’t excuse today.

Emptying the glass of wine you got up from your chair, setting the empty glass down on the table, not bothering to clean the table. You shook your head, huffing once before you went out of the dining room, switching the lights off on your way upstairs into the bedroom.

You took a quick shower, drinking a big glass of water and taking a painkiller for the headache in the morning before you went to bed, cuddling your naked body against his pillow under the covers before you fell asleep.

—-

It was almost 3 am when he came home last night. He was so close to finishing his case, he could feel it. He was in a tunnel, focused on the evidence on everything he had unravelled.

He had only seen the words ten year anniversary on his calendar as he was searching for something on his desk. The immense guilt he felt towards you immediately was so overwhelming he had to sit down for a moment.

You were the love of his life. The best thing that ever happened to him.

And he was constantly letting you down.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed you. Really kissed you. Held you. Made love to you.

Pulling the first drawer of his desk open he grabbed the little velvet box with the ring he had found for you months ago, opening it to look at the diamond ring.

When he proposed all those years ago he did not have the money to give you the big ring he had imagined for you. The ring you deserved. Even though you insisted the ring he proposed with was perfect, having only rarely taken it off since he put it on you, he wanted to give you something… new. Something bigger. Something to show you how much he loved you and how far the both of you had come.

He had found the kitchen and dining room with the evidence of the night you had planned for the both of you, feeling more guilty with every minute he cleaned the table off.

He took a shower in the downstairs bathroom, not wanting to wake you up.

And then, once he was in bed, he had watched you sleep. Your face relaxed, hugging his pillow against your chest, because he had not been here to keep you close, to keep you warm.

—-

You woke up to the sun shining in your face.

Slowly blinking your eyes open you sighed quietly, thankful that it was the weekend and you had nowhere to be. Slowly you turned to lie on your back, startled when you found Tim sitting against the headboard looking down at you. He looked tired, exhausted, guilty.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he said quietly and you sighed.

“Hey,” you mumbled, still so very tired.

“How mad are you?” he asked, and you huffed.

“Too tired to be mad. Ask again in two hours,” you hummed before you pulled yourself up to cuddle against him. His arm came around you as he slipped down to lay on the bed, pulling you against his chest. You felt his lips on your forehead.

“Don’t think you off the hook Rockford,” you mumbled sleepily, lightly slapping his chest.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he hummed.

“And you better be here when I wake up again to beg for my forgiveness.”

—-

It was your turn to watch him sleep when you woke up again. The clock on his bedside table told you that it was almost noon, yet you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. You were comfortable, you were warm and Tim was here and you knew you should be mad but fuck you had missed him.

You slowly turned in his arms, your chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him, your fingers tracing invisible lines over the thin shirt he was wearing.

“Still too tired to be mad?” he asked sleepily and you smiled softly as he blinked one eye open to look down at you.

“Not mad. Maybe a little sad. But I know how you get when you work and…” you sighed and he shook his head, his hand taking yours that was resting on his chest.

“Don’t make excuses for me. I fucked up. We’ve been married for ten years sweetheart. Can you believe that?” he smiled.

“Well you only have been present for eight of those years…” you teased and he groaned.

“Ouch. I deserved that.”

You hummed before you kissed his chest, just over his heart.

“I love you,” he mumbled and you smiled.

“I love you too,” you pulled yourself up to kiss him. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his hands running under the covers and up your naked back.

“I…. I think I know how you can make it up to me….” you mumbled against his lips and he smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth as his hands wandered down your body, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling him. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you pulled yourself up, the covers slipping from your body, looking down at him with dark eyes.

“How did I get so fucking lucky?” he asked himself and you grinned down at him as he pushed himself up, his lips kissing up your neck. You closed your eyes, tilting your head to the side to give him more access. Your hand pulled at his shirt, before you slipped it off his body, throwing it to the floor.

You could feel him hard beneath you, only the boxers he was wearing separating you two.

“Tim…” you moaned, your hands in his hair as he kissed himself down, his lips closing around one of your nipples, sucking softly. You slowly moved your hips on top of him, grinding against his hard cock.

“I can feel you soaking through my boxers. Fuck…” he groaned, biting into your breast, marking you. His hands were on your ass, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as you moved on top of him.

“Fuck baby….” you arched your back, searching for some friction. Some relief.

“Need you,” you whined, kissing him hard. One of your hands went down between your bodies, pulling his cock out of his boxers, your fingers wrapping around his length.

“Sweetheart….” he closed his eyes, his forehead falling against your shoulder. You gathered some saliva in your mouth, letting it drop between your bodies, making him groan as it landed on his cock before you slowly began to pump him.

He looked up before he brought one of his hands up, two fingers dipping into your mouth before he slipped them between your bodies, finding your clit.

“Shit, you’re soaked,” he hissed, his fingers slipping between your folds, two fingers entering you slowly, moving deeper and deeper.

“Think you can take my cock?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Please,” you whimpered.

You let go of his cock, pushing yourself up as his fingers pulled out of you, lining his cock up against your pussy, before you slowly sank down on him.

You closed your eyes, parting your lips as you let your head fall back, feeling every inch of him enter you until you were sitting on his lap with his cock deep inside of you.

“Look at me,” he hummed and you opened your eyes, looking down at him.

“I love you,” he said, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smiled, your hands coming to rest on his cheeks before you kissed him.

“I love you too,” you smiled against his lips.

“I have something for you,” he said and you frowned.

“Now?” you chuckled.

“Yeah. Cause if you move right I will cum immediately. I need a second,” he groaned and you giggled. He reached behind him, blindly searching for something until he hummed and you sucked your bottom lip in when you saw the little velvet box in his hand.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. And I can’t promise it won’t happen again. But I’m… I will try. Because you deserve the best version of myself. You… I just love you so fucking much and I want to do better,” he said and you kissed him again.

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, baby. But I won’t complain if you decide to maybe be home a little more in the future,” you winked and he chuckled.

“Deal,” he said, kissing your nose.

He opened the little box then, making you gasp as you saw the beautiful ring inside of it.

“I wanted to give you a little upgrade for our ten year anniversary,” he said carefully, watching your reaction. You were speechless, looking at the ring and at him. He had joked about giving you a diamond once he could afford one but you had always told him that you do not need diamonds. You had him, and that was enough.

“Baby…” you whispered.

“Can I put it on you?” he asked. You nodded. He took your hand, pulling your wedding band and engagement ring off before he pulled the new ring out of the box and slipped it on your finger, followed by your wedding band. Bringing your hand up he kissed your fingers and you felt a tear run down your cheek as you looked at your hand.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

“I’m glad,” he kissed your cheek, his arms wrapping around your body, to get you closer, wanting to feel your skin against his. You clenched around him, making him groan.

“Am I forgiven yet?” he asked and you hummed thoughtfully.

“I don’t know Mr. Rockford. Diamonds are great but….”

“But?” he grinned.

“An orgasm or two would maybe make me forget about spending our anniversary alone…” you said.

“And breakfast after,” you added, making him grin.

“Pancakes,” you said seriously.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Rockford,” he said. You shrieked when he manhandled you, managing to stay inside you until you were laying on your back with him hovering above you.

“But I accept,” he winked, before he began to move.

#my fic #Tim rockford #Tim rockford x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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dfortrafalgar · 12 days

Text

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men

Chapter 18

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You stared at your wedding ring as it sat on your small bedside table, the faint light from the sun peeking through the blinds glinting off the silver band. The ring was slightly unconventional as far as wedding bands go, with your husband putting a shocking amount of effort into researching gemstones leading up to your engagement to pick the perfect stone for you. The sight made you laugh, as he was never one for assigning spiritual meaning to innocuous objects such as rocks or stars, but when he proposed to you with a small yet brilliant blue apatite gemstone encased in a silver band that perfectly fit your finger, all of his effort and seemingly irrelevant research faded into the background. Your engagement ring became your wedding ring, as the thought of parting with the tiny piece of jewelry became a thought too painful to bear, and Law’s own wedding band was fitted with even tinier blue apatite crystals that circled the thick metal around his own finger.

Your rings were less of a message to the world that you were a married couple, and more of an invisible red string that forever tied the two of you together, no matter how many miles separated you. Your ring was your personal reminder that you were Law’s, and that he was your’s.

But as you rubbed your bare ring finger under the covers of your bed, laying on your side and staring at the cold piece of metal you cherished so much, fighting the lump in your throat, your mind was plagued with doubt.

Law hardly spoke to you in the week that had passed since you came home from the hospital for a second time. And it wasn’t like he was busy with work. Rather, he somehow managed to take a personal vacation in order to tend to your needs. He was home with you every single day, cooking, cleaning, making sure you stood up from your bed to clean yourself and stretch your legs, but he wouldn’t speak to you.

You were starting to feel more like a geriatric patient than his wife, and the thought made your stomach churn.

Your mind reeled with insecurities. Surely he was upset with you for losing the baby again. You were doing so well, something you did must have caused everything to go downhill. He’s probably already making plans with another woman, someone who could give him the child that he wanted, someone who can rebound from tragedy instead of laying in a depression nest of blankets day in and day out despite knowing how unproductive the act of self isolation was. He must be talking about you behind your back to his friends, complaining about how you’re completely infertile, how you keep wanting to try and try and try for a baby but your body is useless and can’t even retain a simple embryo.

Scorching tears rolled down your cheeks as your body trembled under the covers.

He wouldn’t do any of that… would he? No… that’s impossible. He’s never been that type of man. At least… you didn’t think so.

You sat up in your bed, snatching your ring into your fingers and holding it in the palm of your hand, your thumb rubbing along the blue gemstone. Tears continued to flood out of your eyes and your throat stung from the hard glob of saliva that stood like a block of concrete and exasperated your humiliation.

You couldn’t do this. You loved Law. You loved Law more than anything in the world. You wanted– no, needed him to love you back. You were married for fucks sake. How could he treat you like this?

With wobbly legs and a quivering lip, you stood from your bed and clutched your ring in your hand as your feet blindly led you to the door of your bedroom, pulling the entry open and entering the rest of your apartment. You were embarrassed of how wet your face was, your tears leaving sticky streaks of shame on your skin as you approached the form of your husband in the kitchen, a large pot of pasta boiling in front of him and ten small tupperware containers spaced out on the counter.

“I don’t want a divorce,” you called, your voice cracking as you fought back your sobs. You sounded truly pathetic.

Law turned around to face you, completely caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “What?”

“I don’t–” your words were cut off by the sound of you unflatteringly sucking in the mucus that was forming in your nose. “I don’t want a divorce.”

Your husband was quick to turn off the stove, moving the pot of boiling pasta to a cooler burner so he could give you his full, undivided attention. He ushered you to your couch, your legs visibly wobbling beneath you as you stumbled over yourself. The force of you sitting down on the plush cushions made a choking noise emanate from your throat.

“Who said anything about a divorce?” he questioned, sitting flush against you and holding your face in his hands, trying to wipe away tears with his thumbs. His eyebrows were furrowed in a mix of confusion and profound concern.

“I don’t know,” you blubbered through your sobs. “I just don’t want one.”

Law chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

The force of you trying to contain your crying was beginning to grow painful as your chest constricted with each labored breath. “Then… then…” You frantically rubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “Then why haven’t you been talking to me?” You couldn’t meet the intense gaze of your husband, choosing instead to keep your head lowered, a feeble attempt at masking your utter humiliation from the man before you.

Law’s lips pursed in thought as he placed his hands on your legs, holding you steady as well as himself. “I…”

“If you’ve been… if you’ve b-been talking to someone else, th-then just t-tell me.”

“Baby, look at me,” Law’s voice was low yet audibly trembling as he took your face in his hands once more, trying to turn your gaze towards him. You were fighting against the motion of his arms, making his chest clench in agony at the sight. “Baby…”

You finally forced your own eyes to catch a glimpse of his own, your stomach twisting at the sight of thick, salty tears lingering in the corners of his tear ducts. His face gave away paragraphs of torment, the way his eyebrows were furrowed in anger, anger at himself for his inability to communicate, for making you feel neglected, for making you insecure over your place in his heart. His lips were trembling, his lower lip slightly sucked inward as he gnawed on the fragile skin with his teeth.

“I’m sor–” Your fleeting words were instantly cut off as your husband pulled you into his body, a hug stronger than any other hug he had ever given you. A hug that screamed insecurity, self-doubt, misery, heartache. His entire body was trembling as you grasped for him.

“Don’t apologize, don’t ever apologize, ever.” His voice was muffled into your shoulder, yet loud and clear to your ears alone.

You stayed frozen in his arms, the fabric under your cheeks rapidly growing saturated from your tears.

“God, I’m so sorry. I’ve been neglecting you…” he breathed, as if he was talking to himself rather than you, laying the gravity of his inaction out for himself to absorb.

The two of you remained in that same position, a tangle of limbs on your couch, silent tears falling from your cheeks as you clung to each other like a lifeline.

“I’m hormonal,” you muttered.

“No, you’re not. You’re grieving,” he combated.

“Then you’re grieving, too,” you argued back.

Law’s fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt tighter, as if he was trying to pull you into his ribcage, encase you into his very being so he would never have to release you to face the horrors of the world. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like this…”

You sniffled. “I just want you to talk to me again.”

“I know… I…” You could almost hear the gears in Law’s head whirring as he desperately struggled for appropriate words. “I’m scared,” was all he said.

You kept your lips sealed.

“I’m scared that I’m losing you. So I pushed you away without even realizing.”

Your eyes closed, releasing more tears into the cotton of his shirt. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either.” His grip around your body finally relaxed just enough for him to pull back, taking your face into his hands before you had the opportunity to move out of his view. “I love you.”

“I love you, too…” you mouthed back, your voice barely working.

“I love you. I’m so sorry, I love you so much.”

Your hands slowly relaxed, the ring that you still held clutched to your palm accidentally falling onto your lap. The movement alerted your husband, who was quick to snatch the metal piece from your legs and grab your left hand in his, slipping the ring back onto your finger just as he had done almost three years ago on the day your union was tied.

“You’re my wife. And you don’t deserve to be left alone like I’ve done to you. I’m sorry I’ve been keeping everything in instead of talking to you.” He refused to release your hand after placing the ring back onto your finger, interlacing your fingers with his own.

Your trembling lips began to subside as you were more than happy to embrace his hand. Your heart hammering in your chest barely relented, but you forced down the uncomfortable fluttering feeling by resting your head in the junction of his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Law.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to retaliate.

“Two miscarriages?” you questioned, exasperated.

Law made an audible clicking sound with his tongue. “Your fertility doesn’t define you, and it never will. Baby, I’ve mentioned it before, but I will remind you again and again until my tongue dries up. I will never, never leave you over something like this. You’re the woman I want to continue to spend the rest of my life with, family or no family. As long as you, and no one else but you, are happy and healthy in my arms, then right now that’s all I care about. And besides…” His voice trailed off as his hands rubbed soothing patterns into your wrists. “Human bodies suck sometimes.”

His final sentence made a laugh bubble from your weary lungs as you kept your head hung low, Law’s arms providing the security you thrived off of, the warmth you cherished more than anything. Slowly, you lifted up your head, your eyes meeting his deep golden ones as you pressed your dry lips against his own, stealing a kiss from him. A kiss that was laced with grief over the life you had both lost, but that was also filled with a renewed sense of hope and a deep, intense longing for something good to work.

—

A sharp knocking on your front door roused you from your peaceful slumber. The bed beside you was cold, with Law having awoken in the middle of the night to report for a 24 hour shift. You slowly rolled out of bed, stepping into your slippers and trudging to the entryway of your apartment, where the knocking only grew louder. You were counting your blessings that Bepo was currently staying with Shachi and Penguin a few floors below, otherwise his barking would surely have given you a headache.

“I’m coming,” you called, hoping whoever was on the other end could hear you so they could stop rattling your walls. Your warm hands stung against the freezing metal of your doorknob as you undid the deadbolt and pulled open the door.

“Surprise!” a small cacophony of voices brought you to attention, your eyes focusing on a small group of people standing outside your door.

The bright, shining face of your best friend Nami, your coworker Sanji, and their two partners. Vivi you remembered, she graciously gave you and your husband wedding venue recommendations and discounts with her plethora of connections within the city. Sanji’s boyfriend’s name slipped your mind however. The four stood in your entryway toting a generously sized gift basket, packed with such a wide assortment of goodies that your eyes could barely focus on anything in particular.

“Oh my goodness, you guys!” you yelped, your genuine shock emanating from your pores as you quickly welcomed them inside and out of the stifling heat of the hallway. “You didn’t have to get me anything…”

“We know,” Nami stated bluntly, before a sharp elbow to her side from the blue-haired girl next to her cut her off promptly.

Vivi was quick to envelop you in a hug, a bright smile on her face. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

You excitedly hugged her back, your eyes closing with your own grin. “I just wish it could have been under better circumstances,” you added as she pulled away from you.

Her large, brown eyes were apologetic. Nami must have told her what had happened, as much as she knew anyway. “Hey, it’s never a bad time to see a friend. I’m just so happy to see you up and about!”

“Is Law at work?” the smooth voice of Sanji asked as he placed the gift basket on your kitchen counter. He made a move for the box of cigarettes in his shorts pocket, but stopped himself when he remembered your very strict no smoking policy.

“Yeah, he has a 24 hour shift so I won’t be seeing him until tomorrow,” you replied.

The disgruntled man next to Sanji was throwing glances around your apartment, almost like he was questioning where he was. It probably didn’t help that his left eye was scarred shut. Who was this guy again?

“Oh, I can’t remember if you were ever formally introduced, this is my boyfriend, Zoro,” Sanji introduced, pulling the slightly shorter man forward and grabbing his attention away from the lights on your ceiling.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Zoro,” you greeted, contemplating on extending your hand but deciding against it.

“Likewise,” the green-haired man replied. “You got a fancy place here, is your husband a doctor or something?”

You grinned. It always filled your chest with pride to discuss your husband’s job with others, having seen first-hand how hard he worked to attain his position. Although the two of you remained in a very humble living situation, you were still very thankful that his generous income allowed for a very nice city apartment. “Cardiothoracic surgeon,” you answered, your eyes glittering with fondness.

“You’re so freaking cute when you talk about him, it makes my heart melt!” Nami cooed, holding onto your arm and faking a dramatic dip.

The conversation eventually carried the five of you into your main living space where you were seated in between Nami and Vivi with the large gift basket in your lap for you to rummage through. There were boxes of chocolates and various candies, chapsticks, bundles of scrunchies and hair ties, a bottle of personal body mist, some light cosmetics, fragrant soaps and bathing supplies, and a small bottle of over-the-counter painkillers.

“It’s kind of like a period care package, but… you know. Minus the period,” Nami explained, her voice trailing off awkwardly.

You were beaming as you dug through the basket and procured an envelope. Inside was a folded piece of cardstock paper with the colorful words “GET WELL SOON” written on the outside in various highlighters. On the inside, the card was completely filled with messages of support and condolences from your coworkers, your managers, your boss, even the maintenance crew who cleaned the building every morning and night. Well wishes offering their best for you and your husband as you recovered, extending their hands of support for whenever you needed it. You felt your eyes well with tears once again, your body clearly still being hydrated enough to keep the waterworks flowing.

“You all…” your lip quivered. “You didn’t have to do all this!”

“But we wanted to, so we did,” toted Sanji affirmatively, crossing his legs as he sat on your loveseat next to Zoro, who still seemed mildly confused about the whole situation. “I personally wanted to put even more in the basket, but everyone chipped in an even amount and I didn’t want the boss to yell at me.”

The blonde’s explanation made you giggle as you folded the card back up and tucked it neatly into the basket with the rest of your goodies. “I don’t even know what to say, this was… such a nice surprise to wake up to!”

Vivi’s gentle hand rubbed your shoulder as she smiled. “Anything for you, dear.”

You allowed your friends to mill around your apartment while you retreated to your bedroom with your basket to freshen up. You placed the bundle of snacks and toiletries on the top of your wooden wardrobe, right next to a framed photo of you and Law on your wedding day, posed in the center of your wedding parties, all of your most beloved friends standing on either side of you, everyone dressed to the nines and throwing their hands in the air in celebration as Law had dipped you for a passionate, surprise kiss for the camera. Even Bepo, who was significantly smaller then, had a tiny black bowtie wrapped around his fluffy neck. The photo always made a grin appear on your face, even in the most bleak moments of life.

“Hey, do you mind if I come in?” Vivi’s soft voice bounced off the walls of your bedroom as she called for you from your bedroom door.

You turned your attention to her, offering her a fond smile. “Of course not, what’s up?”

Vivi slipped into the confines of your room, lightly shutting the door behind her to give you both privacy. “I was hoping I could talk with you about something.”

Your chest clenched with nervous tension, but you guided her to the side of your bed where you both sat side by side. Vivi caught you off guard by grabbing your hand in hers, clutching it in much the same way a caring and motherly guardian would.

“Stop me if I’m saying too much, but I really wanted to share this with you,” she began. “My grandmother had five miscarriages before she had my dad.”

Your saliva caught in your throat at your words. “F… Five?”

The blue-haired woman nodded, her eyes portraying a deep sympathy. “Yup, five. She used to call my dad her ‘rainbow baby,’ her miracle child that blessed her after the storm clouds parted.”

The phrase sounded vaguely familiar to you, but the sentiment made your heart thrum with grief. “Rainbow baby…”

Vivi nodded, squeezing your hand. “I wanted to tell you this just because I want to make sure you know you’re not alone. I can’t even imagine the pain that you must be feeling, but you’re not meant to deal with it alone, and neither is Law. You both deserve support from your friends just as much as you need each other, you know?”

She was right, really. You and Law relied on each other for everything you did in your lives, but the seriousness of your two miscarriages carried a weight that neither of you were able to truly shoulder alone. Your mind ran to Shachi and Penguin, who happily offered to take care of Bepo so you and Law had time to recover. You thought about Ikkaku, who sat with you in the ambulance ride to the hospital, holding your hand and suppressing her own terrified tears as she was mouthing off to the paramedics who disregarded and attempted to shut down your pain and agony. You thought about your boss at work who graciously granted you ample time off to recover from the incident, and how Robin was tending to your needs after working hours because she wanted to ensure the best success for you, and nothing more. You pictured Law’s team of nurses and fellow doctors in the cardiac ward who were almost constantly checking in on him on his days off, allowing him extra time to rest during his day-long shifts and offering extra assistance with his menial tasks. And now, your small group of friends had arrived at your apartment on a whim to surprise you with a care package of generosity and love.

You gave a dry huff, your lips curled in a sad smile. “Two miscarriages isn’t nearly as bad as five, though…”

Vivi promptly shook her head, completely shutting down your notion. “There is no way to compare tragedies. Just because the quantity of loss might be bigger for someone else doesn’t mean the gravity of your situation is any less. And you deserve to grieve for your two babies just as much as someone with one miscarriage, or five miscarriages, or any other fertility issue might grieve. I’m serious.”

Her words brought small tears to the corners of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You were getting pretty sick and tired of crying, but it wasn’t worth holding it in anymore. Letting it all out was cathartic for you, and it seemed to be the same way for Vivi as she circled her arms around you in a sisterly hug, squeezing you firmly as you hugged her back.

“Don’t be afraid to reach out for help, whether it’s from us, or your coworkers, or a professional. You’re not alone, and you never will be.” The back of her soft hand trailed down your cheek, soothing your features. “Millions of other moms and grandmothers are rooting for your success. Whether you try again or not, you deserve to be happy.”

“Vivi…” your words were barely above a whisper as her words tugged at your heart strings, your stomach flipping with butterflies. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

—

Wifey

Hi baby! I miss you, look what our friends dropped off today!!!!

Wifey

[1 Image Attachment]

Wifey

[1 Image Attachment]

Wifey

Sorry for the spam i didnt realize my finger was in the first pic, but its a huge care package! Theres a bath bomb in here, i think we should use it together <3 And then eat the chocolates… or eat the chocolates in the bath!!!!

Wifey

Okay im gonna go take a nap, i love you so much baby i love you and i miss you and i cant wait to see you after your shift!!!!

—

Baby~~<3

I’m holding you to that bath, my darling.

Baby~~<3

I’m about to go into an operation that’s going to take a while, so if you try to text or call and I don’t respond, that’s why.

Baby~~<3

I can’t wait to see you later, I love you endlessly. <3

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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50calmadeuce · 3 months

Text

Ch. 1: Going Home

In the small barn situated in a quaint rural Wisconsin town, you stood behind the Holstein cow, your task just completed. You carefully peeled off the long blue disposable veterinary glove, a necessary tool for checking if cows, or even horses, were pregnant. With a practiced motion, you tossed the glove into the nearby blue bucket, a routine part of your work in veterinary care. The rustic environment of the barn, the sound of animals nearby, and the smell of hay and livestock created a familiar and comforting atmosphere.

"Well, Hank. She's due any day now," You state, stepping out of the stall. In your jeans, rubber boots, and flannel shirt, you fit right in, despite the stray wisps of chestnut hair escaping your French braid.

Hank, an elderly man dressed in blue jean overalls and a flannel shirt, acknowledged your evaluation with a grateful nod. "Thank you, Doc. I'm not sure how I can repay you…hold on a moment. I recently had a pig butchered. I can offer you some of that meat," he proposed, his weary gray eyes brightening with the suggestion.

"Only if it won't affect your winter provisions. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you in any way."

"No, we're set for now. We still have some meat left from the two deer my sons hunted last fall."

Extending your hand, you replied, "That's more than fair. It'll also take care of any future issues you might have with Mildred."

Gratefully, he clasped your hand in his. "Ever since you arrived here, Doc, you've been a godsend. I can't imagine what we'd do without your help."

You exchanged a firm handshake.

"Remember to call me if there's anything else you need, alright?"

"I sure will. Thanks once more."

Picking up your bucket, you made your way out of the barn and towards your truck.

You positioned your bucket at the rear of your truck, swung open the door, and settled into the driver's seat. Retrieving your cellphone, you noticed a missed call and a voicemail from your husband. As you closed your eyes, you took a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. His communications typically revolved around financial matters, prompting you to wonder about the nature of this particular call.

You tapped the voicemail icon on your iPhone and listened:

"Y/N, it's me. I'm just calling to inform you that I'm on my way back. Not to Texas, though, but to Wisconsin. I'll be landing at Rusk County Airport, aiming to arrive by around 6 p.m. tonight. I'll see you then."

After the message ended, you disconnected the call.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin busied himself packing his travel bag, which lay sprawled on his bed.

"Just to clarify," began Javy 'Coyote' Machado, his best friend, with a tone of disbelief, "you've got a place in Wisconsin?"

"Yup," Jake affirmed.

"And you've never actually set foot in it?"

"Nope," Jake responded, keeping his focus on his packing.

"And who looks after this house?"

"My wife does," Jake said nonchalantly.

Coyote's eyes widened in surprise. "You're married?"

"Yes," Jake replied simply.

Coyote took a moment, the weight of Jake's revelation sinking in. "Hold on, Jake. We've been friends for nearly ten years. And in all that time, you've never once mentioned that you were married, or even hinted at it."

"Well, I am," Jake said matter-of-factly, continuing with his packing.

Coyote, in disbelief, threw his hands up and scanned the room. "Okay, then who is she? And how come there aren't any photos of her around here?"

"We've both had a lot on our plates," Jake replied, finishing his packing with a zip of the bag.

"But how busy can a married couple be to not even see each other?" Coyote pressed.

"She's been occupied with her studies," Jake explained.

"Studies? What, is she training to be a doctor or something?"

Jake remained silent for a moment, his face giving away nothing.

"You're serious? She's actually a doctor?"

Picking up his bag, Jake finally responded, "She was studying to become a large animal veterinarian."

Coyote, visibly taken aback, managed to stutter, "I just... I'm at a loss for words."

Jake, shifting his focus to the task at hand, asked, "You still up for driving me to the airport?"

"Of course," Coyote replied, still processing the revelation.

"Great. Then let's hit the road." Jake motioned towards the door, ready to embark on his journey.

Steering your black Ford F-250, you navigated the lengthy driveway leading to your residence. This log cabin, a product of an inheritance and some astute financial decisions, had been your project three years prior.

As the cabin came into view, you admired the expansive structure that occupied thirty acres of farmland you had acquired. Beyond it lay a sizable horse stable, complete with an attached training ring, a testament to your love for animals.

Approaching the house, you pressed the button to activate the garage door. The door of the 4-car garage rolled open, and you smoothly parked your truck inside, ready to disembark.

You reached over to the passenger side to grab your backpack, then opened the door and stepped out of the truck. Heading towards the door that led into the house, you moved with a purpose, the sound of the garage door closing behind you echoing in the spacious enclosure.

This door opened into the mudroom, which was equipped with a fully functional laundry room, a bathroom, a pet washing station, and ample storage space. As you let your backpack fall to the floor, your cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, you saw it was your mother-in-law calling. Pressing the answer button, you greeted her warmly while switching the phone to speaker mode.

"Hi, Cindy," you said, freeing your hands as you continued your entry routine.

"Y/N, how are you?"

"I'm good. How about you?"

"Just fine," she replied.

"So, you understand why I'm calling then?"

You released a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down. "Yes. He called and left a voicemail."

"Y/N, he still loves you." Cindy's voice carried a mix of hope and concern.

As you settle onto the bench and begin to remove your boots, you respond, "I know."

Cindy probes further, sensing your hesitation, "That doesn't sound very convincing."

With a slight shake of your head, you reply, "Well, sometimes Jake isn't very convincing either."

"Just take things slow," Cindy advises gently. "I believe all you both need is some time together again."

"I'll do my best," you promise, the conversation steering towards a hopeful possibility.

Cindy's voice softened further, her tone imbued with the wisdom of experience. "I understand that it's been difficult, and there might be a lot of unresolved feelings between you two. But remember, love is about finding your way back to each other, even through the toughest times."

You paused, absorbing her words. It was clear she spoke from a place of deep understanding and perhaps her own experiences. "You're right, Cindy. It's just… hard to know where to start."

"Start with honesty," she suggested. "Open up to each other about your feelings, fears, and hopes. It's the foundation you can build on. And remember, you're not alone. We're all here for you, supporting you both."

Your smile reflects a moment of gratitude. "Thanks, Cindy." Glancing at your watch, a sense of urgency creeps in. "I need to go. It's already 5 o'clock, and I've only just got back from work. Jake mentioned he'd be flying in at 6."

"Alright, dear. Please keep me updated on how things go. Oh, and thank you again for the horse fly repellent. It's been working wonders."

"Of course, I'll let you know. And you're welcome. Take care, talk to you later," you say, wrapping up the conversation. After hanging up the phone, you pick up your backpack and make your way to your bedroom, ready to prepare for what comes next.

After managing to squeeze in a quick shower, you slipped into some clean clothes. With the temperature taking a dip, you opted for a pair of jeans, a heavyweight sweatshirt, and hiking shoes to keep comfortable. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail, practical for the drive. Steering your Expedition, you headed towards the local airport to meet Jake.

Aware that Jake piloted a Cirrus plane—a fact made all the more personal by your having paid off the aircraft this year—you felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension about the reunion.

Turning onto the road that led to the airport, you soon arrived and parked your truck outside your hangar, ready to greet him.

Casting a look at your watch, you noted it was ten minutes to 6. A memory flashed through your mind, a reminder of one of your husband's traits: Jake was always punctual.

As you closed your eyes, your head resting gently against the headrest, a vivid memory began to surface, transporting you back to the moment you first met Jake:

You stepped through the doors of the rustic bar in Austin, Texas. Your college friend Avery right next to you.

"It's only one night. We deserve it after yesterday," she said.

The rustic bar was alive with the energy of live music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The atmosphere was exactly what you needed after the grueling exams that had consumed your life for the past few weeks. Avery, ever the instigator of your small adventures, was right; a night of unwinding was long overdue.

Navigating through the bustling crowd toward the bar, you felt a sudden nudge that almost set you off, ready to confront whoever was behind it. But that impulse faded the moment you turned around, finding yourself looking into the most captivating green eyes you had ever seen.

The surprise of the encounter rendered you momentarily speechless. The owner of those captivating green eyes was quick to apologize, his voice a warm, deep timbre that seemed to echo directly to your core.

"Sorry about that," he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "This place is a bit more crowded than I expected."

You found your voice, albeit a little shaky from the unexpected jolt of attraction. "It's okay, really. I should have been watching where I was going."

He chuckled, and it was a sound that made you want to hear more of it, to keep him talking just so you could listen. "I'm Jake," he extended his hand, the action both friendly and bold.

Taking his hand, you felt a surprising jolt of electricity at the contact. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Y/N. You here to see anyone in particular tonight?" Jake asked, his gaze still locked with yours, as if the crowded bar around you had faded into the background.

"Just here to unwind with a friend," you replied, gesturing toward where Avery had found a spot at the bar, seemingly engaged in trying to order drinks.

Jake nodded, understanding. "This place is perfect for that, but you're not from around here."

Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head slightly, impressed by his observation. "Is it that obvious?"

He smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's the accent."

You chuckled, self-consciously touching your throat as if you could feel your accent there. "I guess it's a dead giveaway, huh?"

"Only a little," Jake teased, his eyes twinkling with humor. "But it's a good thing. Makes you stand out." He thought a second. "Sounds a bit midwestern to me almost Canadian."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "That specific, huh? Well, you're not wrong. I'm actually from Wisconsin, so you're pretty close with the Midwestern guess."

Jake nodded, impressed with himself. "I have an ear for these things. Wisconsin's a beautiful place."

"It is," you agreed, your thoughts briefly wandering back to the familiar landscapes of home.

"So, what brings you here?"

"I'm here for a college class."

"College, huh? What's your major?"

"Veterinarian. I'm a large animal veterinarian."

Jake's interest visibly perked up at your answer. "A large animal vet? That's impressive. There's always a need for folks who can handle the bigger animals, especially around these parts."

You nodded, feeling a mix of pride and passion for your chosen field. "Yeah, it's been a dream of mine since I was little. I love animals, and getting to help them, especially the larger ones that require a bit more... let's say, finesse, has always been fulfilling for me."

He leaned against the bar, genuinely intrigued. "Sounds like it's more than just a job to you."

"It is," you admitted. "It's about making a difference, however small it may seem. And the connection with the animals... there's something special about it."

Jake smiled, his admiration for your dedication clear. "I can see that. It takes a special kind of person to do what you do. And speaking of making a difference, my family owns a ranch not too far from here. We've got horses, and every now and then, we run into a situation that could use a vet with your expertise."

The mention of his family's ranch piqued your interest. "Really? I'd love to hear more about it. Working with horses has always been a dream of mine."

Just as you were caught in that moment, Avery approached, holding a beer out to you. "Here's your beer," she said, handing it over before her gaze shifted to Jake. "And who's this?"

"Avery, meet Jake. Jake, this is Avery," you made the introductions, facilitating the exchange between your friend and the man with the captivating green eyes.

The sound of a plane engine snapped you out of your reverie, prompting you to open your eyes and gaze skyward. Above the airport, you spotted the small Cirrus plane, unmistakably Jake's. You watched as it gracefully circled above, aligning itself for a smooth approach before finally descending towards the runway in a well-executed landing.

As the plane taxied closer to where your vehicle was parked, you observed the engine powering down. Stepping out of your truck, you began to walk slowly towards the aircraft. The door of the plane opened and out stepped a figure you recognized instantly – a six-foot tall man with dirty blond hair. He was casually dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and tennis shoes, complemented by a brown leather jacket. It was Jake, finally there in front of you after what felt like an eternity.

But it wasn't the young Jake you remembered, this Jake had turned into a manly Jake. He still had the same piercing green eyes, but his face had turned more rugged, yet still handsome. His presence seemed to exude a quiet strength and a sense of maturity that the younger Jake hadn't possessed. There was an air of confidence about him, tempered with a hint of world-weariness. His green eyes, still as piercing as you remembered, now seemed to carry deeper stories, reflections of experiences and growth. His face, more rugged and lined than before, bore the marks of life's trials and triumphs, adding to his manly allure. Yet, despite the changes, there was an undeniable familiarity in his gaze, a connection to the past that lingered in his expression.

He closed the door when you reached him. "Y/N," he said.

"Jake."

The two of you looked at each other.

You cleared your throat and looked away. "Our hangar is over there." You pointed to the hangar behind your vehicle.

"Our hangar?"

"Yes. I had it built after you purchased the plane."

He looked at you questioningly and then he observed the hangar with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You built that?"

"Yes, it seemed practical for storage and maintenance," you explained, maintaining a professional tone despite the undercurrent of emotions swirling between you.

Jake took a moment to absorb this information, his gaze shifting from the hangar back to you. "That's... impressive. Thank you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation mixed with the awkwardness of the moment.

"You're welcome," you replied, feeling the complexity of the situation. After a brief pause, you added, "Shall we get the plane stored?"

He nodded, a silent agreement to focus on the task at hand, perhaps both of you grateful for a momentary diversion from the emotional reunion.

"You can put your bags in the truck. It's unlocked. I'll go open the hangar and get the tow bar."

""How about I assist you with opening the hangar and retrieving the tow bar once I've put my bags in the truck?"

"That's fine," you agreed since you had no clue what you were doing anyways. You watched as Jake went to the other side of the plane and grabbed four bags.

You quickly made your way to Jake's plane and grabbed two of the bags and then placing the bags in the back of the Expedition. Jake did the same with the other two and then started walking towards the hangar. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. This was all new to you, and the prospect of being involved in something as unfamiliar as handling a plane was both thrilling and slightly intimidating.

After securing the bags, you walked towards the hangar, where Jake was already busy. As you approached, he looked up and gave you a brief nod, acknowledging your presence. You stood there for a moment, watching him work. He moved with a practiced ease, clearly familiar with every aspect of the aircraft and the hangar.

"Need a hand?" you asked, eager to learn and help.

Jake glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "Sure. Could you grab the other end of this tow bar?" He held out one end of a long, metal bar to you.

You took the offered end, feeling its weight. Jake guided you on how to position it correctly, explaining how it was used to move the plane. Together, you maneuvered the bar into place and began the task of towing the aircraft into the hangar.

As you worked alongside Jake, you appreciated the quiet efficiency with which he operated. There was a sense of competence and confidence about him that you found reassuring. It was clear that he was in his element here, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his skills.

Once the plane was safely in the hangar, Jake secured everything and turned to you. "Thanks for the help. Not everyone would jump in like that."

You shrugged modestly, feeling a small sense of pride. "Happy to learn something new. And it's not every day I get to say I helped tow a plane."

His chuckle resonated warmly in the hushed atmosphere of the hangar. "Well, you did a fantastic job."

"Thanks," you responded with a bashful smile. "Uh, dinner should be all set by the time we get back."

"You made dinner?"

"Not exactly. His name is Chuck. I encountered him during a trip to Wyoming."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "Another man is living in my house?!"

You sighed. "I honestly don't know how to answer that because you really haven't even seen our house."

Jake ran a hand through his hair turning away and then turned back to you. "I never cheated on you, Y/N. I came here to work on our marriage. You could've at least told me."

You looked at him. "I'm sorry. I forgot, my husband hasn't really contacted me for four years. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, that I needed help running a ranch."

Jake stared at you.

"Chuck is my chef and, I guess, butler. He helps around the ranch."

Jake's expression shifted from shock to confusion. "You have a chef and a butler now?"

You nodded, trying to keep your tone even. "Yes, Jake. Running the ranch alone has been tough. Throw in my hours as a Veterinarian, you never know. Chuck has been a huge help, not just in the kitchen but around the property too. He's been indispensable, especially with you being away for so long."

There was a moment of silence as Jake processed this new information, his features softening slightly. "I see. I didn't realize how hard it's been for you here alone. I'm sorry, Y/N."

You let out a small sigh, the tension easing a bit. "It's okay. We both have a lot to catch up on. Let's just focus on getting back home for now."

Jake nodded, a look of understanding crossing his face. "You're right. We've both been through a lot, and we have a lot to talk about. But right now, let's just get back home and take it one step at a time."

After closing the hangar, you both walked towards the truck, there was a comfortable silence between you. It was the kind of silence that spoke of mutual understanding and the beginnings of reconciliation. You could sense that both of you were cautiously optimistic about what lay ahead.

Once in the truck, you started the engine and pulled out of the hangar area and started to drive home.

The familiar landscape passed by the windows, each mile bringing you closer to a place that held both memories and possibilities. You glanced over at Jake, who seemed focused on the road but also more at ease than he had been earlier.

"Thanks for coming to get me," he said softly, breaking the silence.

"You would've done the same thing for me," you replied.

Jake glanced your way, a small smile playing on his lips. "Always, Y/N. No matter what happens, I'll always come for you."

Those words, simple as they were, carried a weight of meaning that filled the cab of the truck. You leaned back in your seat, allowing yourself to feel the comfort of his presence and the hope that, despite the challenges, you both might find a way forward together.

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 months

Text

Can I Count on Forever? ~ Chris Evans

Chris Evans x Senator Reader

Word Count ~ 4.2K

Songs: The Man by Taylor Swift; Paper Rings by Taylor Swift; Lover by Taylor Swift

Its been three years since you met Chris and today, you take one of the biggest steps of your life.

Part Three of the "Can I?" mini series - Part One // Part Two // Main Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, SMUT (p in v, oral – female receiving, slight dominance kink), mentions of cheating, accusations of cheating, political nonsense.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Just a quick message. While I have tried to keep this politically neutral, I will say that I have no idea what any real-world person’s views are and will not assume. Also, I am not an expert in politics and will not claim to be. In the US, we have an election in November. Please, inform yourself on all of your local, state and federal races and issues and remember to register and vote. You can’t complain if you don’t vote!

Your POV

Clack.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. It was the end of a fairy tale or the start of one, and you weren’t sure if you could get through the double doors. You thought back on your life, closed your eyes and prayed.

It had been a year since Chris proposed and it was here, your wedding day. As you woke on that bright May morning, you reached for your fiancé and found the bed empty. But a smile crossed your face. He wasn’t in the hotel with you. He was at home with Dodger and his groomsmen while you were at the hotel with your bridal party. As you stretched, there was a knock at the door. “Room service!”

Curiously, you opened the door, and the bellman pushed a cart in. “Mr. Evans asked us to deliver breakfast and champagne to you to start your special day right. Congratulations ma’am.” He stepped back out and you squealed. Opening the cover, Chris had sent your favorite breakfast, along with coffee and champagne. Savoring the meal, you sent a text to Chris.

YN: Thank you, love, for my breakfast! My fiancé: You’re welcome. Only six more hours before I see you again and you make an honest man outta me.

You hugged the phone to your chest when your maid of honor knocked yelling for you to open.

A few hours later, you were waiting in your bridal suite, your father comes in and sees you for the first time. “Oh, my baby, you look beautiful,” tears forming in his eyes

“Thank you, daddy,” your own tears welling up.

“No, don’t cry.” He handed you a tissue. “Chris is a lucky man. I am so happy you found each other.”

The wedding planner knocked. “We’re ready for you.”

As you stood at the double doors, you thought back to how you got here. How you fought for each other, against the world. The doors opened and all you could see was Chris.

Chris POV

I stood at the altar, waiting for those doors to open again and let my beautiful girl come to me. The past three years had been a whirlwind, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. All the bridesmaids make it down the aisle and little Stella finishes with her flowers and the music changes. Everyone stands and the doors open. My jaw falls open. I can’t see anything else but her. She’s an angel, all in white, gliding on her dad’s arm. The tears are building up in my eyes at how beautiful she looked, my little senator.

Once she reached me, I could feel a tear rolling down and she reached up and wiped it away. “Please stop crying,” she whispered. “You’re gonna set me off.”

I could see her lip tremble a little bit. I kissed her hand, "I love you," I whispered.

We kept it traditional, reciting words that have been said by couples like us thousands of times over. When I slip that ring on her finger, it was like a part of me that was missing got put back and I’m overwhelmed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Chris, you may kiss your bride.”

“Finally,” I breathed as I took her face in my hands and kissed those lips that had haunted my dreams since the first day I met her. It was perfect and when I pulled away, her lips were just a touch redder and more swollen, her eyes danced.

“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Evans!”

The whole church cheered, and I took my wife’s hand in mine and walked out. After three years and one horrible misunderstanding, I finally have my girl on my arm as my wife.

The reception is amazing. YN and the wedding planner did a great job. It's intimate and romantic but not over the top. Her father wanted to take out a house loan to pay for whatever YN wanted but she refused. “I don’t need you to be in debt Daddy. Give me a reasonable budget and I’ll make it work.” That is my girl, always modest. But this is a once in a lifetime, if I have any say in it and I want it to be her dream. I talked to her dad on the side.

“Mr. YLN, I just want YNN to have everything she wants, so get your budget together and I’ll double it. I want this to be a gift to her but never find out, because her smile will be my thanks.”

It worked like a charm because I can see the tears in her eyes as she looks at the room and see her vision come to life. “Oh my...” she whispers. I take it all in, the crystal vases holding the red roses, tea lights on all the tables. The walls have a soft light to them, and the dance floor is decorated with lanterns and rose petals. “It's perfect.”

“It's you, my beautiful wife.”

It's hours before I can take her home, well, to our honeymoon suite. She’s exhausted, riding up in the elevator. I scoop her up in my arms, her heels already dangling in my hand. “You going to sleep, baby?”

“Hmm, no, not yet. Just tired.” She smiles at me. “It was the perfect day.”

“Oh yeah? Something important happened?” I tease as we get to our honeymoon suite.

“Not really,” she shrugged. “Just tied myself to the perfect man.”

“Sounds fun.” I had one more surprise for her. I opened the door and carried her in. The room was decorated in candles and roses, a bottle of champagne next to her favorite snack. I had always dreamt of that night we had by the fire after I had proposed. It was perfect and I wanted to recreate it for her. Except this time, the hotel laid out blankets and pillows in a beautiful bed.

“Chris,” she whispered, and I could tell she loved it.

I set her on her feet and pressed my front to her back. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I was an idiot the first time I made love to you in front of a fire.” I found the zipper on her dress and slowly began to bring it down. “I was apologizing for being the biggest jerk in the world after you protected me. I wasn’t appreciating the setting or taking my time with you. But this time,” the zipper was down and i kissed her shoulders, “this time I want to worship you because you made me the happiest man in the world.” I pushed the bejeweled straps of her gown down and she gasped at the sudden cool air.

“Oh fuck,” I murmured as I took in the lacy white corset, teeny tiny white panties and stockings. She looked like a goddam angel that was going to send me straight to heaven. I lifted her out of the gown and spun her to look at me. “This is like a present for me,” as I run a finger over the top of the corset.

“Unwrap me Chris,” she said in a low sultry voice.

And I crumble.

Because there is no way I would say no to this gorgeous creature right now.

I kiss her softly and pull away, kissing her forehead before turning her around again. I undo the ribbon holding the corset closed and let it fall away. I kneel down and roll down the stocking and tip her foot so she can lift, and I can remove one stocking, repeating on the other. I run my hands up her legs, feeling her shiver under my touch, listening to her breath hitch. I kiss right under each cheek, giving a nibble on one.

“Chris,” she moans, “stop teasing.”

“Is that an order Senator?” I smile against her skin. “Or is it a request? Because,” I spin her again, so she is facing me while I’m still on my knees, “if it's an order, then we have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“I remember you promised me that I would only take orders from you in public.” I kissed around her belly button. She moans and her head tilts back. “But I would give the orders in our bedroom.”

“We’re not in our bedroom,” she argues. “We’re... oh.... oh fuck,” she whimpers as I kiss over the scrape of lace she calls panties and press against her mound.

“Want to try that again, Mrs. Evans?” I pull the lace down just enough so I can get my nose close to her center and inhale that scent that is only her.

“I...” she studders and I chuckle. I yank the lace away from her body, ripping them off.

“Chris!”

“No,” I say in a husky voice. “No orders from you, Mrs. Evans. You want something, you beg for it. because until we get back from our honeymoon, you are not in charge. Who is in charge?”

“Fuck,” she cries as I let my finger circle her clit. “You’re...hmm... you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” I stood up and lifted her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. “Such a good girl for me.” I walked us over to the fireplace bed and laid her down. I took a long look at my prize, my angel, my wife. “God, I’m a lucky bastard.”

I didn’t realize I said that out loud until she giggled. Then she grabbed the end of my undone bow tie and yanked me on top of her. She kissed me hard and then pulled away. “Please Chris, let me see my husband naked.”

“Fuck me.” I pulled the tie off, straddled her and grabbed her wrists. I tied them together and lifted her arms above the head. “Naughty girl,” I said. “No touching now. Bad girls don’t get to touch.” She wiggled under me, trying to get relief from me.

“I’m sorry, baby, please, I’m sorry. Let me touch you.”

“No.” I stood up and started to strip. I unbutton my shirt slowly, working the cufflinks she had given me as a wedding present off carefully. She licked her bottom lip and I smirked. I was shirtless, which, if she had her way, she would keep me like this every day. I moved quickly with my belt and the button of my slacks. She whimpered and I bit my bottom lip. “You should have stayed being my good girl, little senator.”

“Chris, you’re being mean,” she whined.

“Am I?” I let my pants hit the floor before I crawled up her body. I kiss her inner thighs, sucking little bruises as I go. “I’m sorry sweetheart.” I kiss right above her clit, and she bucks at the sensation. I pin her hips and licked from the bottom to the top of her pussy. God, I love the way she tastes, the way she coats my tongue in her arousal. Fuck, do I love being in between her legs. “So good,” I tell her, “taste like heaven.” I work my tongue in her, fucking her while my thumb presses down on her clit. “Fuck baby, you’re even tight for my tongue.”

“Chris,” she mewled. She was close, so fucking close.

“Come for me little senator. That’s an order.” I shoved two fingers into her cunt and sucked on her clit at the same time. she shattered, crying out as her orgasm fluttered through her body. I made it last for as long as I could. I tease her relentlessly and get her right back on the edge. Then i pull away and she cries in frustration because I know her orgasm is fading. I climb up her body, tasting every inch of skin I can until I can wrap her legs around my waist. “Hang on, baby.”

She grips the straps around her wrists and then I force my way home. She screams as I bury myself in her to the hilt. But I’m not cruel. I wait until she is comfortable and then rock into her, leting her feel every inch, every ridge, every vein of my cock along her ways. Fuck, she feels so good. I’ve only fucked her bare a couple of times and the feeling of her heat, how wet, how needy she is, I’m going to fucking die a happy man.

“Harder Chris, fuck, please harder.” I grab her legs and push them over my shoulder so I can fuck her into the mattress. She feels like fucking heaven and tighter in this position. I can’t believe I get to do this with my wife. She’s moaning and crying out from all the stimulation. I don’t want to ever stop.

Your POV

Chris is fucking you to within an inch of your life. You are in heaven, lost in the heavenly glow of sex and you need him. “Chris, please,” you pleaded. You know what he wants because you want it too. He pulls out quick, making you cry before he flips you to your front and gets your ass in the air.

“This pussy is magically,” he says, looking it over before he fills you again. You have always loved this angle. You can feel everything and when he moves, you can feel his balls hitting your clit. Its perfect.

“C-chris, I can’t hold on,” you whine. “Husband please!”

“Oh shit,” he moans, “that’s fucking hot.” He thrusts faster. “Say it again. Say! It!”

You’re on the cusp of euphoria. “Chris, Husband please!” He ruts into you, reaching down to circle and stroke your clit and you break. You scream your release, gripping his cock, squeezing him until he released into you, coating you in his cum.

“Fuck!” He pumps a few more times until he stops, lowering you gently to the bed, not ready to separate. You lay there on your sides, legs tangles to keep you connected, catching your breaths when you start to giggle. “And what is so funny, my wife?”

You take a breath to speak. “You have a kink, baby. You like it when I called you husband.” You turn to look back at him.

He smiles before leaning over and kissing you again. “I also like calling you Wife and you like it too. You clenched involuntarily and Chris hisses. He caressed your thigh. “Told you.”

After Chris cleans you up and you both crawl into bed, you find myself laying on top of his chest. “I wish we could stay this way forever.” You place a kiss on his chest.

“I wish we could too, little Senator, but then how will you rule the world?”

Its a valid question. One you are excited to figure out.

You’ve been married for two months and now you are at the National Convention. Getting married during an election season was crazy but your team and Chris’s said it would give you the best boost. You were set to become the youngest and second woman nominated for the office of President.

As you stood in the wings of TD Gardens in Boston, Chris watched as you paced back and forth, looking over your note cards for your acceptance speech. “Sweetheart, don’t be nervous.”

“That’s easy for you, Chris, you’re an actor. You perform for millions.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I act in front of a camera for twenty people and then they watch after its edited. YN,” he stopped you and wrapped you in his arms. “You are a brilliant speaker. The people have nominated you, they believe in you. I believe in you.” He tilted your head up so you would look at him. “Go out there and be a rock star, Little Senator.”

The convention went off without a hitch and it was the final three months of the campaign. It was grueling, city after city, town hall after town hall. Chris could only be on the road with you for a few days at a time as ASP launched into the primer source for facts in the election. He had to host panels and discussions. Video chats in between calls and meet and greets was not how you imagined your first few months of marriage but it could all be worth it.

Chris POV

I was late for our video date. “Fuck.” I was jogging to my office in the ASP offices so I could call YN, when I was stopped by Megan. “What’s up?”

“Chris, there is an article floating around that claims the Senator had an affair right before the wedding.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

“The Enquirer has photos of her entering a hotel room that did not belong to the campaign. The room was rented out by someone named M. Capuano.”

We made it to my office. I closed the door. “What does my wife’s team said?”

Megan grimaced. “That’s the thing. They said they aren’t worried about it. Rachel said that she spoke to the Senator and if questioned, they are going with no comment.”

I smiled. “That’s my girl. We’re saying the same thing, Megan. Thanks.” I turned to pick up my phone.

Megan scoffed. “There is no way we can go with no comment, Chris. They will tear her apart. You have to talk to her about. She’s just not bringing herself down but you as well.”

“I’ll talk to her. Give me five minutes.” Megan rolled her eyes and left my office as I called my wife. “Hello, my little Senator.”

“Hi handsome!” She was flushed from running for her phone. She was heartbreakingly beuatfiul, her cream colored blouse clung to her curves that I love and gave just the hint of clevage. “How were your discussions?”

“Really good, looks like the live numbers will be out highest yet.” I smirk. “Execpt for my last meeting.”

She frowned. “With who?”

“Megan. She wanted to bring attention to the fact that there is an article going aroung saying my wife is having an affair.”

YN gasped. “Chris, you know I would never...”

“I was nervous for just a second and then she told me the name the room was reserved under and it took everything in me not to laugh.”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Sweetheart, remember when you had a swing in Virginia and I was able to see you and we kept it on the low.”

“Yes,” she dragged out.

“Well I couldn’t reserve the room under either of our names so my uncle helped me and reserve the room for me. M. Capuano. Uncle Mike.”

I watched as the realization clicked. “Oh my gosh, they think I am having an affair with M. Capuano but really I’m having an affair with my husband.”

I smirk as she laughs. “I don’t know what you are laughing at Senator. You’re having an affair.”

“I sure am. The man really is hard to resist. Dark gripable hair, a beard that feels so good on my skin. Bluest eyes I ever seen. He’s built and has those arms that can hold you to him all night long.”

“Fuck sweetheart, you can’t say stuff like when when I don’t have time right now.” I looked at my calendar on my computer. “I can be with you tomorrow morning and stay through the weekend.”

“I’m looking forward to it Mr. Affair.”

“I’m going to rock your world Mrs. Affair. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

YN POV

You’re nervous.

This day is always nerve-racking.

This isn’t your first one either.

And hopefully it isn’t your last.

Its election day.

While you hadn’t given up your senate seat yet, it was something you were willing to do if the right opportunity presented itself. Say, being the President of the United States.

But first, you needed to be elected there. You were back in California, awaiting for the results. Votes were being tally, the electoral college was making its decision and all you could do was wait.

Which is not the easiest thing to do.

Chris had been on the phone with his ASP team, checking results in major battleground states, counts on issues that were concerning to younger Americans. Every time he looked up to you, he would you a smile and mouth “i love you” to try and calm your nerves. Three years of this and he knew how to calm your nerves.

The campaign had been hard, a woman running against an older, backward thinking man. The scandal of the car photos came back into play but your opponents own philandering with a woman not his wife, nullified that right away. You had no secrets, other than your relationship with Chris. You were caareful to only show what you wanted to the public to know. Chris was or rather still is a famous movie star. He may have slowed down his films but he was never not working. ASP was his pride and joy, besides you, and it relected on how much the platform grew.

It was nearing 8pm in California and the states were starting to be called. Every political forecaster predicted this race to be the tightest its ever seen. No one expected you to receive the nomination. No one expected to make it this far. No one believe. Except Chris.

He believed in you.

You can feel him right behind you before he wraps his arms around you. “Did you ever imagine being here Senator?”

You shake your head. “I imagined a lot of things. I had dreams. But, to do this with you, now,” you look up at him, “I never imagined it like this.”

For hours, you and. your family stood around, watching results. Chris mentioned that you should rest but you were too keyed up to lie down or even sit down. Hour after hour passed and the race was down to the final couple of states. Then the news anchor interrupted the talking heads on the news.

“We are now prepared to make the call in Oregon. This evening has been historic in so many ways. But now we are ready to declare Oregon for...”

Clack.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. You assumed it would be hard, to run for president. To deal with the fall out. Your opponent had been cordial in his speech. He talked about uniting the country and not letting politics create a divide. He was right, the country had to come together now and move forward.

Chris POV

Watching my girl waiting to be taken to her seat for the ceremony, it was heart wrenching. She was so stoic and unnaturally quiet. She had on a beautiful red dress with white accents and her coat was the same blue as the american flag. She had been so brave through all of this. She kept her head up and was gracious. The embodiment of class. She just had one more thing to do before we could move forward.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. I’m right here.” I took her hand and we were walked to our seats. The ceremony was beautiful in the cold January air. We listened to the poet laureate and the national anthem done by Taylor Swift. But then it was our cue, to do the part of the ceremony as instructed by the head of the inguration committee. I smiled as I held out the bible, open to her favorite passage.

I watched as my girl placed her hand on the bible and then raised her right hand.

I, YN YMN Evans, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God.”

The roar of the crowd sounded as she finished her oath. I leaned over to kiss my wife, my president. “Congratulation, madam President.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the new President of the United States and new First Gentleman, YN and Chris Evans!”

Walking out to the inagural ball is surreal. This was our life now for the next four years. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. As Harry Styles sang Adore You for us again, I held my wife in my arms. “Did you count on this, madam President.”

She frowned for a second. “I don’t know if i like you callng me that. But no,” she smiled. “I was only counting on you.”

“You can always count on me, love. Count on it forever.”

“Just as long as I’m still your forever.” She sighed as she leaned against me. “Still not sure about the madam president thing.”

“How about in public, you are madam President, but in private,” I spin her around and draw her close again, “you’ll always be my little senator.”

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