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#she was adorable in this and i couldn't not gif her
aemvnd · 2 days
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ 4:24pm.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ finally introducing to y'all shy, bambi!reader (she's so me!) i hope y'all love her as much as i do. !!! 🧸♡ྀི
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bambi!reader is a shy, precious, skittish little thing, with you always burying your nose in some romance novel, loves going antique shopping, obsessed with gold and pearl jewelry, loves the color pastel pink (like most of your outfits), besides the occasional virginal white that your now boyfriend, rafe cameron, likes to see you wear for him, always all dolled up and so, so fucking pretty, rafe thought that first night of meeting you.
you're a painfully shy girl, which rafe finds charming, cute, and addicting like sugary sweetness, making rafe absolutely hooked and possessed, especially when he first introduced himself to you, all charming, confident, and with that typical, rafe cameron smirk.
strangely, even though rafe was a little tipsy, barely even drunk, he couldn't help but walk up to you that night at the party he was hosting, never quite seeing you around before, and try to start up a conversation with you, needing to be close to you—it was like an instant pull towards you, like he needed to be close to you.
it almost felt like his heartstrings were aching, tugging him towards you, like you hypnotized him from across his large balcony at tannyhill—you stood alone, taking tiny sips of the fruity, alcoholic seltzer you've been drinking since you arrived barely an hour ago.
once rafe got you talking, all sweet and shy, and yes, it took some time, your answers were slightly short, timid and nervous, like you were scared of embarrassing yourself in front of him, which rafe thought was incredibly adorable, his obsession with you only growing more and more.
rafe continued making light conversation with you throughout the evening, with you giving him pretty, little demure smiles, and all rafe could think about was fucking you in the most nasty, downright animalistic of ways—however, he knew he would have to have patience, to be gentle, not wanting to frighten you in any way, shape, or form, but maybe you'll let him taste your sweet, little virginal pussy.
you'd make the most perfect little housewife, he was certain of it. rafe already knew you would be his—his dream girl, the girl that he would someday put a giant, sparkling diamond ring on your pretty, dainty little ring finger, seemingly always freshly manicured with french tips, he'd noticed.
rafe couldn't help but also begin to imagine you all full and plump with a kid of his inside of your womb, plenty of little cameron babies to come, he knows it, deep in his bones, that you're the girl for him.
meanwhile, as the conversation between you both continued, with rafe mostly doing most of the talking, he would start asking more personal questions, perhaps too personal, but rafe wasn't ever one to give a fuck—except now, but even still, he had this need to know every little thing about your sweet, beautiful self.
"soo..." rafe chuckled lightly, a lazy smirk on his lips, taking small sips of his beer occasionally, while cocking his head slightly to catch your pretty, doe-like eyes, decorated with long, fluffy mink lashes—so damn pretty, rafe thought to himself in that moment, and every single moment after that while spending time in your company.
"do you, uh... h-have a boyfriend?" he questioned casually, though he could already feel his blood boiling at the mere thought of some other man's hands on you, watching as you immediately became shy and bashful, and it made the oldest cameron sibling want to kiss you, to claim you, to mark you as his and his forever—luckily, he was able to refrain himself and control his temper, and his desire for you, surprisingly.
and then, once you shyly shook your head no, all pretty and doll-like and submissive, rafe was already thinking of multiple ways about making you his, his, his—permanently.
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wandagcre · 3 days
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Hii! How you doing?
I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.
Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader
if i break | sam carpenter 🔞
(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)
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You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.
WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy
[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]
One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.
Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.
Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.
You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.
That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.
You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words  — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.
You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.
So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.
But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.
Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.
What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.
She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.
"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.
You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.
"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.
Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"
She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.
You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.
It was dowright ridiculous.
Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.
"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.
You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"
"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.
You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.
It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.
You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.
The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.
Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.
You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.
The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.
But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.
One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.
"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.
The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.
"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"
"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.
At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.
You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.
Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.
All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.
It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.
Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.
When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.
She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.
"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"
"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.
Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.
For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.
Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.
You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.
"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.
Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"
"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"
"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.
You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.
You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.
"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."
You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.
You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.
Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.
It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.
Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.
That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.
You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.
"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.
You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."
"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.
You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.
The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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sarawritestories · 7 hours
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Take A Break
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High Lord Eris Vanserra X High Lady Fem Reader
Summary: Eris comes home from business at the Spring Court. Only to hear reports from the staff that his High Lady has been working herself to the ground and not taking care of herself.
Dedicated to @milswrites and @eve175 who are constantly making sure I am taking care of me and getting proper rest. I adore you both!
Content Warning: I did not proofread this. This fluff, but Reader hasn't slept and has had some disordered eating habits (she has been working so hard
Peep the Critical Role Reference for any Critters reading this 😉
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
Eris Vanserra was glad to be home. Sure, working with Tamlin to rebuild the Court was mutually beneficial. Tamlin gets his court back, and Eris rebuilds a strong alliance with the spring. It was work worth fighting for to repair what Beron destroyed. However, he was itching to get home to his mate.
You were the apple of his eye, the moment the bond snapped on Calanami, his first as High Lord. Eris held no hesitation when it came to making you his High Lady. He watched how hard you worked at your bookshop. He knew you could handle it.
Reaching the stables, The Autumn High Lord handed his esteemed steed to the young fae male working. "Take care of sweet, Vex'ahlia, will you?" Eris gave the lad a warm smile and received an eager head nod. "Thank you."
Entering the palace, he was greeted by your two ladies-in-waiting. "My lord." The older woman bowed the younger one fidgeting, Eris picked up on the nervous behavior. "How was your trip?"
Eris bowed his head in return, "Very well, Maxine, but I am ready to see my wife. Though I suspect with the look on both of your faces, something is wrong." He tugged on the bond and found a quick tug back in return, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.
Maxine sighed, "Sir, she has been sleeping in the study."
"If she sleeps at all." The younger one, Nadine muttered.
Maxine ignored her and continued, "We have barely gotten her to eat. She has buried herself so deep into work that she simply forgets that warm food is right there. I'm not trying to speak out of turn."
Eris gripped the older woman's shoulder, "You are not. I appreciate you telling me. Is she still in the study."
"Yes, High Lord."
Eris laughed, "Maxine, you can call me Eris. After all, you did change my diapers."
Maxine smiled, "I'll you whatever you like if you go take care of that wife of yours."
Eris kissed her cheek, "Yes ma'am," With that, he went to go find his High Lady.
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You ran your fingers through your hair as you scribbled notes on some parchment. These last few days, you buried yourself in paperwork. Just when you thought you were done. More stacks would form. Not wanting to fall behind and with Eris being gone, you had decided to dedicate the time to working. Only to find you were getting overwhelmed, feeling like you could never walk away, missing meals, not sleeping, you were burning out.
You turned to grab more blank parchment when a voice came from the doorway, "Now what do we have here." You turned to find Eris there, his red curls laying atop of his head and the russet colors of his eyes gleaming in the fae light."
You dropped the materials in your hands. "When did you get back?" You bounced off your seat and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I just got here." He held you close, taking in your scent. "I heard something interesting, though."
You blinked, "Oh?"
He kissed your head, "My Little Dove has not been taking care of herself." You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips to yours. "There is no fighting me on this."
You sighed, "Okay."
He winnowed you to the kitchen. It being so late the kitchen staff was gone. Eris put on an Apron and you quirked a brow. "You cook?"
Eris smiled, "I do." He tossed an apron at you. "And I am going to show you how to make my favorite me." Your cheeks warmed, remembering how you gave him a small plate of cheese to accept the bond.
You walked over to him, "Ready to Learn."
****************************************************
Cooking with Eris was fun, and you learned that the high lord had a playful side. He'd sneak up behind you to try the sauce you were making. Dipping his finger to dab it on your nose, causing you to giggle. Once everything was cooking he pulled you into his arms and you began to dance.
He pulled you into a waltz with no music. And you watched as his smile grew, his freckles popping out by the fire and the fae lights. He wasn't worried about work, or his brothers, or his responsibilities. He was beautiful.His main focus was you. He pulled you closer, his hands sliding close to the curve of your ass. He kissed you.
He tried to deepen the kiss, but the kettle screamed that the water was boiling. Pulling away, you smiled and grabbed the kettle. Once the meal was prepped, Eris made your place and insisted he feed you.
"I am fully capable of feeding myself. I am High Lady." You pouted and Eris quirked a brow instantly causing you to fix your attitude.
"Yes, you are my High Lady. You're also zeroed in on your work so much this week you barely ate. So I am taking care of you." He patted his lap, "Sit, Dove." You obeyed, and the smell of the food made your mouth water. He scooped up some of the food with the utensil and leveled it to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth on command, and he placed the food in your mouth, and you moaned in pleasure. The flavor exploded in your mouth.
He fed you until the meal was gone. "Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"
You met his Russet eyes and sighed, "I didn't do it on purpose. It simply felt like everyone needed me. I just lost track of time."
He sighed and kissed your bare shoulder peaking out of your sweater. "You need breaks. They are important. You'll burn yourself out or wither away into nothing if you don't." His eyes grew serious, "I don't want to see my mate suffering."
"I'm sorry." You leaned your head against his.
"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to yourself. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself as worthy of breaks." He held you close. "Okay."
"Okay... I may need gentle reminders." You whispered, a full belly causing the exhaustion to take hold.
"I will give you those gentle reminders." He kissed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. Allowing the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon from your mate to bring you comfort.
When you fell asleep, Eris carried you in his arms. Hands wrapped around your knees and shoulders and walked you to your shared bedroom. Placing you on your side of the bed, he pulled the covers over you. "Sweet Dreams, Little Dove." He kissed your head, causing you to stir and just turn over. The High Lord left your room and headed to your study where he would finish the paperwork that was stacked on your desk.
Fin
@secret-third-thing for your Eris reading pleasure
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hd-junglebook · 1 day
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Little Dove
Quinn Hughes x Reader
a:n Here is part 2, the only thing I could think of while writing this was 'The Gold' by Phoebe Bridgers. I think it really speaks for how y/n sees the situation and her life at the moment.
Masterlist Link
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Summary: He's everything she wants. He's everything she wished she had. All she wanted was him. The hot and cold game has finally reached its limit.
Word Count - 5046
The sleek, black limo glided up the long, winding driveway, its polished exterior gleaming under the warm sunlight. As it approached the magnificent mansion, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the opulent surroundings.
The meticulously manicured lawn stretched out before her, a lush carpet of vibrant green grass that looked almost too perfect to be real.
In the center of the sprawling grounds, a grand fountain stood tall, its crystal-clear water cascading down the intricately carved stone tiers, creating a soothing symphony of gentle splashes.
As the limo came to a stop near the impressive front steps, a group of well-dressed helpers emerged from the mansion's large, ornate doors. They stood at attention, their crisp uniforms and shoes polished.
Just then, the front doors swung open, and Y/N's grandmother stepped out, a vision of elegance and grace. She was dressed in an all-white ensemble, the flowing fabric of her dress billowing gently in the breeze.
Her delicate hands were adorned with pristine white gloves, and a strand of exquisite pearls rested against her neck, catching the light and adding to her air of sophistication.
The driver swiftly exited the limo and rushed to Y/N's side, opening the door with a practiced flourish. He offered his hand, assisting Y/N and her mother out of the vehicle with the utmost care and reverence.
As they walked closer to the steps, Y/N's grandmother's face lit up with a warm, genuine smile. "Oh, darling, how I've longed to see you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with affection. "Come here, little dove."
Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion as she stepped into her grandmother's embrace. The older woman's arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that seemed to chase away all the stress and disappointment she had been carrying. It had been so long since anyone in her family had shown her such pure, unconditional love and acceptance.
Y/N breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of her grandmother's perfume, a delicate blend of chamomile and sugar.
The softness of her grandmother's gloves against her skin was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal interactions she was used to with her parents.
Around them, the grandeur of the mansion seemed to fade into the background, the lavish furnishings and priceless works of art becoming mere footnotes in the presence of Y/N and her grandmother.
Once they separated Y/N's grandmother cupped her face with her gloved hands, her eyes shining with pride and adoration. "Let me look at you, my dear," she said softly, taking in every detail of Y/N's appearance. "You've grown into such a beautiful young woman."
The posse entered the sun room, Y/N was struck by the sheer elegance of the space. The room was flooded with natural light, the sun's rays filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the meticulously landscaped gardens beyond.
In the center of the room, a grand table was set with the finest china and silverware, each place setting arranged with precision and care. The aroma of freshly prepared delicacies filled the air, making Y/N's mouth water in anticipation.
As they took their seats, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. However, after a while, Cherise turned to Y/N with a knowing smile and asked her to accompany her for a walk in the garden.
Arm in arm, the two women strolled through the lush, meticulously maintained grounds. The garden was a true work of art, with winding paths that led through a maze of fragrant rose bushes, towering topiaries, and bubbling fountains.
Cherise broached the subject that had been weighing on her mind. "Tell me, dear, when will you settle down?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "It hurts me to see you alone."
Y/N shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not alone, grandmother," she replied, her voice soft but filled with contentment. "I am with someone. Nothing serious, but things are going smoothly now. He makes me happy."
The steady click of their heels against the pavement punctuated their words. Cherise listened intently, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Then give me a grandbaby already, if you're so happy," she teased, her laughter ringing out like a bell in the garden. Y/N couldn't help but join in, their laughter mingling with the chirping of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Y/N smiled softly as her grandmother continued, her words filled with wisdom and understanding. "I'm only joking, little dove. I would like to meet him, maybe when things get 'serious,' I guess. I want you to feel love like I have with your grandfather. You deserve that, not some beneficial marriage like your mother and father. I don't know where I went wrong with her."
Y/N nodded along, finding no reason to disagree with her grandmother's sentiment. She knew that her parents' relationship was one of convenience and status, lacking the warmth and genuine connection she craved. "I think you'd like him," she said, a hint of hope in her voice.
As they neared the house, Dedra rushed down the stairs, her face tight with impatience. "Let's go, we have to get back to work," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Y/N stepped into her bedroom, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She slipped out of her clothes and into a comfortable robe, the soft fabric caressing her skin. Settling down at her vanity, she began removing her makeup, the process of wiping away the day's mask a soothing ritual.
As she reached for her phone, she noticed a message from Quinn. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the conversation, eager to connect with him after the emotionally draining day.
Y/N: I wish you were here with me. Today was intense.
Quinn: I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?
Y/N: It's just family stuff. They have all these expectations, and I feel like I'm constantly disappointing them.
They texted back and forth, Y/N continued getting ready, applying her makeup with practiced precision. Once she finished her base, she stood up and slipped into the red dress she had chosen for their date. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure in all the right places.
She admired her reflection in the mirror, a small smile playing on her lips as she imagined Quinn's reaction. Just then, her phone buzzed with another message.
Quinn: I'm outside.
Y/N felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the front door. She stepped outside, the cool evening air kissing her skin as she walked towards Quinn's car.
He had his windows rolled down, a smile on his face as he watched her approach. His eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, taking in the sight of her in the stunning red dress.
"Looking good," he said, his voice smooth and filled with admiration.
Y/N felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty swirling within her. “Thanks hottie.” she said as she slid into the passenger seat. She knew that her feelings for Quinn were growing stronger each day, but the fear of him not wanting her scared beyond comprehension.
Quinn pulled out of Y/N's driveway, he glanced over at her, his gaze lingering for a few seconds. The curiosity in his eyes was evident. "So where is this restaurant you were telling me about or is it some kind of surprise?" she asked, leaning over the middle console.
He smiled mysteriously, enjoying the playful anticipation that hung in the air between them. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teased. Quinn chuckled at her betrayed expression, shaking his head in amusement as he focused on the road ahead.
conversation flowed easily between them, filled with laughter and the occasional playful jab. Even though they talked about nothing of great importance, Y/N found herself thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of Quinn's company.
city lights flashed by the windows, painting the interior of the car with a kaleidoscope of colors. Y/N leaned back in her seat, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her.
As they continued driving, y/n’s curiosity got the better of her once more. "Come on, Y/N, give me a hint," she pleaded, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm dying to know where you're taking me."
Quinn laughed, the sound filled with genuine joy. "Patience, dear," he chided gently, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as Quinn's strong hands grasped her waist, his touch both thrilling and comforting. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and saw a glimmer of affection and excitement reflected back at her.
"Lead the way," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips as she allowed him to guide her towards the restaurant.
As they approached the entrance, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the establishment. The facade was a masterpiece of modern architecture. The name of the restaurant was emblazoned above the doors in elegant, golden script.
Quinn's arm remained securely around her waist as they stepped through the doors. The interior of the restaurant was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with plush carpets, glittering chandeliers, and rich, velvet draperies.
The hostess led them to their table, she glanced at Quinn, taking in the way his suit hugged his athletic frame and the confident, easy smile that played on his lips. When they were seated, Quinn reached across the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers. She squeezed his hand in return.
They perused the menu, discussing the various options and sharing bites of each other's dishes. Quinn enthusiastically shared his plans for preparing his hockey team for the upcoming season. He spoke about new training regimens, team-building exercises, and strategies he hoped to implement.
Y/N listened intently, her eyes focused on Quinn as he passionately described his goals and aspirations.
However, at one point, Quinn glanced over at Y/N, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He wondered if she was truly interested in the intricacies of his hockey career or if he was boring her with the details. Y/N, sensing his uncertainty, quickly broke into a smile and laughed, hoping to ease his worries.
"Everything about you interests me, Quinn," she said earnestly, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. "I could never get bored of you. Being around you makes me happy, ya know?"
The sincerity in her voice was evident, but Quinn's reaction was not what Y/N had expected. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hand stiffening under her touch. An awkward silence fell between them, the air thick with tension.
Quinn cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the restaurant as if searching for an escape. "Y/N," he began, his voice strained, "I... I think we need to talk."
Y/N felt her heart sink, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She withdrew her hand from his, folding her arms across her chest as if to protect herself from the words she knew were coming.
"I care about you, Y/N. I really do," Quinn continued, his gaze finally settling on her face. "But I need you to understand that I'm not looking for anything too serious right now. I thought we were on the same page about that."
Y/N nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She knew Quinn had been clear about his intentions from the start, but somewhere along the way, she had allowed herself to hope for more.
"I know," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to pressure you."
Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not your fault, Y/N. I should have been more clear. I just... I don't want to hurt you."
The words hung heavy in the air between them, a reminder of the fragility of their connection. Y/N forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"It's okay, Quinn. We can take things slow. I'm just happy to be here with you." Quinn returned her smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The rest of the evening was spent in polite conversation, but the earlier ease and warmth between them had dissipated.
The pulsing rhythms of the music filled the crowded nightclub, the bass thumping through the floor and vibrating in Y/N's chest as she carefully navigated her way back to the booth where her friends were waiting. In her hands, she balanced a tray laden with six colorful cocktails, each one adorned with a tiny umbrella and a slice of fruit.
Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of her five best friends, all dressed to the nines and ready for a night of fun and laughter. She shimmied into the booth, sliding in next to Raven, her closest confidante.
"Ladies, I present to you six drinks for six beautiful women," Y/N announced, her voice rising above the din of the club. She passed out the cocktails, each one met with a chorus of excited cheers and appreciative nods.
The women wasted no time in downing their drinks, the sweet, fruity flavors masking the potent alcohol within. As they finished, they let out exaggerated gasps and howls of delight, the alcohol already beginning to work its magic and loosen their inhibitions.
Raven leaned in close to Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, see anyone you like?" she drawled out, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Y/N surveyed the dance floor, her gaze roving over the writhing bodies and the flashing lights. She had to admit, there were plenty of attractive men in the club tonight, their bodies moving in perfect sync with the pulsing beat.
"A few," she admitted, a sly smile playing on her lips. "But no one interesting enough to take home, that's for sure."
Raven giggled at Y/N's response, her laughter infectious and carefree. She scanned the room herself, her eyes suddenly widening as she spotted someone across the way.
"Well, I see one eyeing you up over there," she said, pointing discreetly in the direction of the bar.
Y/N followed Raven's finger, her gaze landing on a devastatingly handsome man with curly black hair and a chiseled jawline. He was leaning against the bar, his back pressed against the polished wood, and his eyes were locked on Y/N, a smoldering intensity in his gaze.
Y/N felt a flush of heat rush through her body as she met his stare, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. She raised her hand in a small wave, a coy smile playing on her lips.
But even as she flirted with the stranger across the room, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at the back of her mind. She thought of Quinn and the uncertain status of their relationship.
"I don't know, Raven," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I haven't ended things with Quinn yet. It would feel wrong to pursue someone else."
A collective groan sounded from the table, as her friends all chimed in with their opinions.
"Girl, you're single. Do what you want," one said, her voice firm and encouraging.
"Quinn's not here tonight. What he doesn't know won't hurt him," another added, her tone mischievous and daring.
Y/N bit her lip, torn between her desire to let loose and have fun and her loyalty to the man she cared for.
She knew things with Quinn were complicated, that he had been distant and evasive in recent days. But still, the thought of betraying his trust, even in a moment of drunken weakness, made her stomach churn.
As she sat there, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club and the encouraging words of her friends, Y/N knew she had a decision to make. She could play it safe, go home alone and wait for Quinn to come around. Or she could take a chance, let herself get swept up in the moment and see where the night might lead her.
With a deep breath and a final glance at the handsome stranger across the room, Y/N made her choice.
The heat of the crowded dance floor was almost unbearable as Y/N swayed to the pulsing beat, her body moving in perfect sync with the mysterious man from the bar. His hands were on her hips, his touch searing through the thin fabric of her dress and setting her skin ablaze.
The dance floor was a sea of moving bodies, gyrating and swaying to the music as the multicolored lights flashed and swirled overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of hues across the sweat-slicked skin of the dancers.
Y/N felt the heat rising from the packed bodies around her, the air thick with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and pheromones. She moved in perfect rhythm with the mysterious man from the bar, their bodies impossibly close as they lost themselves in the primal, sensual flow of the music.
His hands roamed over her curves, his touch both electrifying and possessive as he pulled her flush against his muscular frame. Y/N could feel the hard planes of his chest pressing against her back, his hips grinding against hers in a way that sent shivers of desire racing down her spine.
Clinking glasses and raucous laughter from the nearby bar mixed with the pounding bass, creating a heady cocktail of sensory overload.
Y/N felt dizzy with the rush of it all, her head spinning from the alcohol and the intoxicating presence of the man behind her. As the song reached its crescendo, he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck as he mumbled something in her ear, his words almost lost in the pounding music.
Y/N turned in his hold, pressing her back against his chest and feigning ignorance. "Sorry, the music is really loud. I can't hear you," she shouted over the din, a coy smile playing on her lips.
She felt his chest rumble with laughter, the vibrations sending shivers down her spine. He tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
"I said, come home with me," he repeated, his voice low and husky, filled with unmistakable desire. Y/N's heart raced at his bold suggestion. She knew she should say no, that leaving with a stranger was a dangerous game. But the alcohol in her system and the electric chemistry between them made it hard to think straight.
She turned to face him, a playful shrug on her shoulders. "I can't leave my friends alone tonight," she said, her voice apologetic. "But how about I give you my number instead?"
The man's face hardened, a flash of annoyance crossing his features. He scoffed, as if offended by her suggestion, and shook his head in disbelief.
"Fine," he said, his tone clipped as he extended his phone towards her. "Put it in."
Y/N took the device, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed in a fake number, purposely transposing the digits. She couldn't risk giving him her real contact information, not when she was still unsure of her feelings for Quinn.
She handed the phone back and fixed him with a stern look. "Now, shut up and dance," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. The man's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger burning in their depths. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and possessive.
"You think you can just tease me like that and walk away?" he growled, his face inches from hers. "I don't take kindly to being led on." Y/N's heart hammered in her chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong.
"Let go of me," she said, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "I don't owe you anything."
Around them, the other dancers continued to move, oblivious to the drama unfolding in their midst. Y/N's friends were nowhere to be seen, lost in the sea of writhing bodies and flashing lights.
The man's grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. "No one rejects me!”
With a sudden burst of strength, Y/N wrenched her arm free, stumbling backwards and nearly losing her balance. She turned on her heel, pushing through the crowd as she desperately searched for her friends.
Her heart was racing, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Y/N stumbled out of the nightclub, her heart pounding and her head spinning from the encounter. The cool night air hit her skin, providing a momentary relief from the stifling heat of the dance floor.
She leaned against the rough brick wall, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found Quinn's name.
She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the call button. Things between her and Quinn had been strained lately, and she wasn't sure if he would even answer. But as a wave of nausea washed over her, the severity of the situation hit her, and she knew she needed help.
Y/N pressed the button, holding the phone to her ear as she tried to steady her breathing. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before Quinn's voice finally filled her ear.
"Hello?" he answered, the sound of music and laughter echoing in the background.
"Quinn," Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I... I need you."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Y/N feared he would hang up on her. But then Quinn's voice returned, this time laced with concern.
"Y/N? What's wrong? Where are you?"
She took a shuddering breath, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I'm at Taipei," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "I... I was dancing with this guy, and he... he tried to... I don't know, I just... I need you to come get me. Please."
There was another pause, and Y/N could hear the sound of Quinn moving, the background noise fading as he stepped away from wherever he was. "I'm on my way," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "Stay where you are, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."
Y/N nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.
As the call ended, Y/N slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears finally spilled over. She felt sick to her stomach.
"Y/N!"
She looked up, her vision blurry with tears, to see Quinn running towards her, his face etched with worry. He dropped to his knees beside her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame.
"I'm here," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.
Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest as the emotions she had been holding back finally broke free. She sobbed openly, her body shaking with the force of her tears as Quinn held her close, his hands rubbing gentle circles on her back.
Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke, her words laced with a mixture of sadness and desperation. "What have you been doing? It's been days, Quinn. Days without a single word from you."
Quinn froze, caught off guard by her sudden questioning. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right response. "I... I've been busy, Y/N. You know how it is."
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, I don't know how it is. You don't want to talk to me? Is that what this is?" Her voice cracked, the pain in her heart spilling out into her words. "I don't want to do this with you anymore if you don't want to be with me eventually, Quinn. I can't keep going on like this."
Quinn reached out to her, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please. Let's not do this now. We'll talk in the morning, okay? When we've both had a chance to clear our mind, and we’re home in bed."
But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the affection she so desperately craved. "Do you feel anything for me, Quinn? Even just a little?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Of course I do Y/N..."
"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just be honest with me then. Am I not good enough? Is that why you've been pulling away?"
Quinn's heart ached at the sight of her pain, but he couldn't find the words to comfort her. He knew that his own doubts and fears had been holding him back, preventing him from fully committing to their relationship.
"It's not that, Y/N. It's just... complicated."
She let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the cool night air. "Complicated. Right. That's what it always is with you, isn't it?"
Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling incredibly small and vulnerable. She looked up at the sky, the stars blurring together through her tears. "I can't keep doing this, Quinn. I can't keep going on dates and sleeping with you, only to be pushed away. It hurts too much."
Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke, his words laced with a deep, aching sadness. "Y/N, please just let me explain at a better time."
But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume her. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears that refused to fall.
"If I could go back to the night we met, I would never have agreed to this," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart. "You make me feel so loved and like you care about me, then you ignore me when I say anything that sounds like I care about you."
The night seemed to grow colder around them, the stars fading into the inky blackness of the sky.
Quinn took a step towards her, his hand outstretched. "I don't mean to hurt you. At all," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"What I want is complicated, Y/N. You're so good to me. If I allowed myself to ruin it, I would never forgive myself." Quinn felt his own heart constrict, the depth of her pain hitting him like a physical blow.
Y/N shook her head, a single tear finally escaping and rolling down her cheek. "But don't you see? You're already ruining it. By pushing me away, by refusing to let yourself feel what I know is there."
He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, to promise her that everything would be okay. But he knew that he couldn't make that promise, not when he was still so unsure of his own heart.
Y/N's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold the pieces of her shattered heart together. "I don't need you to be perfect, Quinn. I just need you to be honest with me. To stop running away from what we both know is true."
She turned to walk away, Quinn reached out and grabbed her hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Quinn's lips brushed against her forehead.
Quinn inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his own. Before Y/N had a chance to protest, to pull away from his embrace, Quinn gently guided her towards his car.
He opened the passenger side door, his hand resting on the small of her back as he helped her inside. With a tender touch, he reached over and clipped her seatbelt, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck for just a moment longer than necessary.
As Quinn slid into the driver's seat, he could feel the weight of Y/N's gaze on him but he couldn't find the words to reassure her, couldn't find the courage to voice the depths of his own feelings.
Instead, he put the car in drive, the engine humming to life as they pulled away from the curb. Y/N turned her head towards the window, her eyes fixed on the expanse of the city that stretched out before them. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, the glittering lights of the skyline blurring together through her watery vision.
The drive was silent, the only sound the steady thrum of the engine and the distant wail of sirens in the night. Quinn's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension as he navigated the familiar streets that led to Y/N's home.
The sight of her own front door, the promise of solitude and comfort, was a balm to her aching heart. Quinn cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening in the confines of the car.
He moved quickly, exiting the driver's side and rounding the front of the car to open Y/N's door. She stumbled slightly as she stepped out, her legs unsteady beneath her. Quinn's hand found the small of her back once more, his touch a gentle guide as they walked together towards her front door.
With a sense of déjà vu, Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key Y/N had given him months ago, he slid the key into the lock, the click of the tumblers echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.
As the door swung open, Y/N stepped inside, the familiar scent of home enveloping her like a warm embrace. She turned to face Quinn, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the love and affection she so desperately craved.
But his expression was unreadable, his own emotions carefully guarded behind a mask of stoic resolve.
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ginabaker1666 · 1 day
Text
This Is Always
From the Love Letter Series
Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)
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The holidays are usually a time to be spent together, cold noses warmed by the fire, and joyful cheers as the New Year approaches. This year, Rosie is struggling with being away from Jo, and acknowledging the future that he dreams of sharing with her. A heart to heart with Crosby helps put things into perspective for both of them.
Read Part 3 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist
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January 1944
My Dearest Jo,
Happy New Year, honey pie! It’s just after midnight here, and though I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Happy New Year, I know that by the time you get this, it will be after the fact. I guess by writing this now, while it’s still ‘43 back home, I’m letting myself be greedy in being the first to send you those wishes. I hope you’re doing something fun tonight, and getting all dolled up to paint the town red. Your last letter came just after Christmas, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you just how happy it made me to hear that you were still doing all of your usual Christmas favorites, even if I’m not home to carry all your shopping bags back to Brooklyn after a full day in the city. Believe me, I even miss doing that, no matter how heavy some of them are. 
I got Ma’s last letter just a few days before yours arrived, and she mentioned that you went by the house to celebrate Hanukkah with her and Jeanie. I know that made her really happy, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping an extra eye on both of them for me while I’m stuck over here. My sister would argue that she doesn’t need anyone keeping an eye on her, but I’m sure she appreciates your company, and will rub it in my face after the fact that she got to spend so much time with you. That’s what little sisters do, isn’t it? 
We had a small thing in the Officers Club for the holidays; nothing too fancy, but there was music, and some good liquor that someone managed to scrounge up for the occasion. The Red Cross Clubmobile girls pulled some resources and, even with rationing, managed to bake a few cookies for us. They were good, but they couldn't hold a candle to yours. 
I have never wanted one of your Christmas cookies more than after reading your letter, and to know that Jean Crosby took over as the official taste tester this year; oh it broke my heart darling. But, I’m glad to know that you two girls are keeping each other company, and I know that Croz is happy knowing that she’s not alone. I do hope you two aren’t causing too much trouble while we’re away. Knowing you the way that I do, I know that’s a bit of a pipe dream, but one of the reasons I adore you the way that I do. 
At the risk of sounding melancholy, I’ve spent most of today wishing I could take you dancing; spin you around until we’re both dizzy, until finally we can ring in the new year with champagne. Crowded on the dance floor at Minton’s, wrapped up in each other. Maybe it’s bold of me to ask, or maybe it’s the whiskey, but would you have allowed me a midnight kiss, Jo? I can’t picture kissing anyone else as the clock strikes twelve, nor do I want to, on this holiday or any other day. I hope that by next year, we'll be able to spend the evening together, and not have to send holiday wishes in letters that take too long to get there. 
I dream of you every night, sweetheart, and every night these sweet dreams end with a kiss before I’m pulled back to reality. I’ve been dreaming of the future, and if the real thing is anything like my dreams, I can’t wait for those days to begin. I wonder,do you dream of those days too? Of building a home together, a life that’s just ours. Living in the city, maybe somewhere near Harry and Jean. We could go to the pictures on Friday nights, and sleep in on Saturday’s, warm under the blankets until we peel ourselves from the sheets only because we need to make coffee. I’d spin you around the kitchen while we made breakfast, a record on the Victrola, the two of us tangled together while the eggs burned. The more I think about it, the more it all sounds like a dream come true. 
Maybe it is the whiskey talking, but it’s getting late here. Or early depending on how you look at it, and even though we aren’t flying tomorrow, I’m sure the rest of the fellas will be returning from the Officers Club soon enough. I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, sweetheart, and counting the days until we’re together again. 
Sending you millions of hugs and kisses, and all of my love. 
Yours for always
Robbie
Rosie took a deep breath, and without giving himself a chance to second guess anything in his letter, folded it up and slid it inside the envelope. He’d address it in the morning and drop it off at APO so that it went out with the next mail call; tonight it would remain on the nightstand next to his bed, with Jo’s photo. He was still in his uniform, not having bothered changing after he returned to the Officer’s hut, and was about to take advantage of the empty shower stall, when the door swung open and Harry walked in.
“Thought I’d find you in here.” Harry spoke, hand coming up to loosen his tie. 
“Yea, I uh, wanted to get a letter out to Jo,” Rosie signed, dragging his hand down his face. ‘Or at the very least, written.”
“It’s rough around the holidays isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. Harry knew as well as he did, and he knew his friend was giving him an opening to get his feelings off his chest. 
“Probably the most difficult part of all this. We’ve spent every Christmas and Hanukkah together since we met.”
“She celebrates Hanukkah with you and your mom?”
“Jo is the best gift giver in our family, according to my sister.” Rosie grinned. 
“Sounds like your sister will be the disappointed one if you don’t put a ring on Jo’s finger when we get home.” Harry chuckled, dropping down onto his own bed, across from Rosie’s.
“She’d have to fight my Ma for the top spot, if I don’t marry Jo.” 
The two shared a quiet moment  as their thoughts drifted to a place far from England. Far from flak and casualties and torn fuselages. No thoughts of missing friends, mission counts or that damned red light never blinking off. 
Rosie knew that Harry understood better than anyone; how it felt to be so devoted to someone, and yet, he felt compelled to ask the one question that, if he had to wager, everyone asks at some point. 
“How’d you know Jean was the one?” He asked after a moment, gaze turned upward to meet that of his friend. 
“She wanted nothing to do with me when we met,” Harry balked so loudly that it seemed to echo off the walls of the Nissen Hut. “But I knew. I didn’t want to spend another day without her.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Oh yeah, you just know,” Harry nodded. “When did you know Jo was the one? And don’t tell me you didn’t…”
“Let’s just say I should have opened my mouth a long time ago.”
“Well, better late than never.”
“What if I was too late, Croz?”
Harry stood from his bed, moving around the front to lean himself against the footboard. With a determined gaze, he made sure he had Rosie’s full attention before saying what was on his mind. 
“You can’t think like that. You need to believe you’re going home to her, that you two will have a life after all this.”
“God, I hope so.”
“I don’t know Jo as well as you do,” He started. “I only know what Jean tells me in her letters, but it sounds to me like she’s really something. And I’m not just saying that because she went out of her way to befriend my wife.”
“I told her I want a life with her, a future, our own place, Saturday mornings in bed, lazy days…”
“You want the dream.” Harry nodded in understanding. 
“Told her maybe we’d move to the city, leave Brooklyn, get a place near you and Jean.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in trouble if that happens, Jo and Jean a stone's throw away from each other?”
“I think the two of us are going to have our hands full when we get home, Croz.”
“I bet they’re saying the same thing about us,” Harry laughed. “And I wouldn’t blame Jean. I’ve been a real handful as of late.”
“Oh yea, you’re causing lots of trouble all the way over here.” Rosie chuckled, propping his legs up on the bed, feet hanging off the edge so as to not dirty the sheets. He didn’t miss the slight look of distress that flashed across his friend's face. 
He regarded him carefully; he looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue. His face looked worried, like he had something weighing him down exponentially, and Rosie would allow his friend the moment if he needed it. After all, it was the holiday’s and they were the best source of camaraderie that they had; friends should be there for each other. No one understood that better than he did. 
“No, I’ve been a handful…” Harry finally continued. 
“Croz?”
“Remember after Munster? When Harding sent me to Oxford?”
“Yea…”
“They double you up when you’re at those conferences, and my roommate, she-”
“Ah jeez, Croz…”
Harry sighed, dropping his head, too ashamed to look his friend in the eye. The moment had turned in the blink of an eye, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, or get his friend through it. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try. 
“I don’t know how to tell Jean.”
“Is this why you kept disappearing up to London? To see her?”
“How do I tell my wife that I slept with another woman?”
“You just do, Croz.”
“That’s the worst possible thing to write in a letter. ‘Honey, I miss you terribly, by the way…’”
“Alright, I see your point. But you need to tell her.”
“This fucking war,” Harry sighed. “I swear, it peels the humanity right from your bones.”
“Then you fight it.”
“More than we already have? More than what we’ve given and lost?”
Rosie knew he was referring to Bubbles, and for a moment he let his mind wander to Nash, and that first mission to Bremen. It would be easy to fold; to pack it up and let the fight take from you more and more. But he would be damned if he’d let it take more from him, and if he had to fight a little extra to make sure it didn’t take any more from his friend, he’d do that too. 
“You’re not fighting it alone, Croz.”
“Feels like it most of the time.”
“And you’re fighting for something back home, even if you feel like you don’t deserve it at the moment.”
“I don't deserve her.” 
“Yea, you do. And you’ll tell her everything, whether you write it, or tell her when we get home. And Jo and I will be there for you both.”
Harry looked like he was about to respond when the door to the Officers Hut swung open. He turned, half expecting a replacement officer, but was surprised to see Blakely and Douglass, the former with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and Douglass swinging a bottle of something in his left hand. 
“Nightcap, fellas?” Douglass lifted the bottle, and Rosie could just make out the label. Vat 69. 
“Where the hell did you get that, Dougie?” Harry’s eyes went wide at the familiar label from back home. A very expensive label. 
“Been saving it, so come on, let’s have a drink.”
“No, seriously, who’d you steal that from?” Rosie asked, watching as Blakely gathered four of the glasses the boys kept on their side tables for brushing their teeth. 
“I won it in a bet, if you must know.” Douglass grinned, pulling the wax seal from the neck of the bottle before pulling the cork out.
“The details are not of importance,” Blakely chimed in, swatting Rosie’s legs off the bed to take up the space next to him. “What is important is that we’re here, and alive, so stop asking questions and have a drink would ya?”
Douglass poured for the four of them, dropping himself down on the bed next to Rosie’s, while waiting for Harry to join them. 
“Any day now, Croz…” he groaned, glass between two fingers as he held it out for the navigator. “It’ll be ‘45 by the time you move.”
“Dougie… fuck off.” Harry stood with a laugh, brushing off his slacks before snatching the glass and taking the seat next to him. “And anyway, we’d all better be home by ‘45.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Blakely nodded, holding his glass up to cheers his friends, the only ones left that weren’t replacement crews, or trapped somewhere in the Stalag. 
The foursome sat silently as they sipped their prize whiskey, thoughts turned presumably to home and memories of Christmas and New Years’ spent with people they loved and missed. 
“Alright, what would you be doing if you were home right now?” Ev broke the silence, leaning his elbows on his knees, gaze landing on Harry. 
“His wife, dumbass.” Douglass chuckled. 
“Woah hey, none of that.” Rosie looked between the two, the rules immediately being put into place without having to say them. 
They didn’t talk like that, but he assumed it had been a bit too much whiskey already for Douglass, and with there no mission on the horizon for tomorrow, their guards were all down a bit. 
“Right, right, sorry Croz,” Douglass held his hands up in apology. “For real, what would you and Jean be doing if you were home?”
“We’d go out for dinner, but I think we’d probably be home for the bells,” he closed his eyes wistfully, and Rosie knew his friend was simply hoping that he’d be able to do that next year. “Dance in the living room, and yea, off to bed.”
Blakely nodded, reaching across to drop his hand to Crosby’s knee in a gesture of good faith, that he felt for him in a way, and was hoping he’d get that moment sooner rather than later. 
“What about you?” Ev turned to his right, finding Rosie sitting quietly. 
“What about me?” Rosie brought the glass to his lips, taking a small sip and letting the taste linger on his tongue a moment. 
“Would you and Josephine be out on the town?” Douglass asked, gesturing to the photo on Rosie’s side table. 
“Oh yea, we’d be at Minton’s, dancing until they kicked us out I’m sure.” Rosie laughed. 
“Together at the club then?”
“Every year we go dancing on New Years,” Rosie started. “Christmas and Hanukkah are for family, New Years is for friends.”
“She’s more than a friend.” Harry looked at him pointedly. 
“She is, and a fella can dream that she’ll say yes when I get home.”
Blakely, who had been pulling the cigarette from behind his ear to light it, fumbled, dropping it to the ground at Rosie’s confession. 
“You got a ring?!”
“No, but, that’s my second order of business once I’m back stateside.”
“And the first?”
“To kiss the hell out of her.” Rosie confessed. 
“Good man.” Blakely slapped him on the shoulder, a smile on his face. 
It was absolutely the whiskey talking this time, but he was among friends. The trust was insurmountable. Between the confessions that had taken place before Ev and Dougie had joined them, and the warmth flowing through his veins, Rosie lifted the glass to his lips to drain it, before standing from his place on the bed. Swiping the envelope from earlier, and a clean sheet of paper from the table, he glanced at his friends with a grin, and offered a two fingered salute. 
“Gentlemen, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going! We still have more whiskey!” Douglass hollered after him. 
“Save it for another occasion!” Rosie called back as he pushed through the doors and out into the chilly January air. 
He walked until he found a spot under one of the lamp posts, the bench undoubtedly cold as he sat down, but he wouldn’t be out here for long. Just enough time, and privacy, to get the thoughts swarming around in his head out on the page before he lost his nerve. 
Pulling his pen from his breast pocket, he carefully let the paper rest on his thigh before he began scrawling his extra note. 
Hi Sweetheart, 
I know this is coming with no context but, I want you to know how much I adore you. I know I’ve said it in different ways, and a few times by now, but, I mean it. Truly, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. And to say it from thousands of miles away, with a war on no less. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hit me once I’m back home. 
Just know that I’ll always, always, carry your heart with the most careful of hands. I’ll keep you safe, and treasure every moment we have together. Anything you want, it’s yours, Jo. A quiet life together, or a herd of children that jump on the bed on Sunday mornings. I’ll make sure you have it honey. 
Just know, I’m yours for however long you’ll have me, Josephine. I’m hoping for forever, but that’s a question for another day. 
I love you,
Robbie 
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @basilone @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie
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jemmaasimmons · 2 years
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derry girls ● the agreement
There's a part of me that wishes everything could just stay the same, that we could all just stay like this forever. There's a part of me that doesn't really want to grow up. I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for the world, but things can stay the same, and they shouldn't. No matter how scary it is we have to move on and we have to grow up because things, well they might just change for the better.
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zishuge · 2 months
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Lost You Forever 长相思 (2023) | Ep. 3
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stardustinthesky · 2 months
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Lois and alt!Clark in Lois & Clarks
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eloisephillip · 2 years
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Jen Lindley in "Something Wilder."
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cerealbishh · 2 years
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"Are those from my yard?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"Oh, god."
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Just some cute gifs from LES ENNEMIS AMOUREUX (1948)
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?
contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.
author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...
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"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"
you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.
it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.
satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.
he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"
you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"
satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.
the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.
"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."
satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."
you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.
your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.
so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.
smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.
he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.
suguru-geto: haha i already knew
toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?
yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??
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reiderwriter · 13 days
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Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 
Including your most recent problem  child. 
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 
“Harper, that's not how it works-” 
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 
“It was that obvious?” 
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 
“Secret part?” 
“To make the other baby, silly!” 
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lina-lovebug · 3 months
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Alastor x fem! reader
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
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Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.
Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.
"And stay in that form. It suits you."
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phntmeii · 7 months
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🌊 OPLA Characters And Physical Touch
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[SFW + No Gendered Terms]
🌊 Characters Featured: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Usopp, Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy, Koby
🌊 A/N: Can't believe that Zoro post kinda popped off immediately lmao. But here's a more fluffy list with a bunch of OPLA characters <3 It's an absolutely self-serving headcanon list just bc they all deserve so much love. Also, I need to hug Sanji in the above clip so bad :((
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Monkey D. Luffy
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🐚 Luffy is absolutely in love with physical touch no matter who it is! He's completely comfortable initiating it toward anyone, finding it the best way to show his affection.
🐚 Toward his partner, he just can't keep his hands to himself. He's hand holding with them always, planting kisses all across their face, etc.
🐚 He'll end up stretching his arms to pull his partner if they're far away and drag them toward himself to hold them close to his body in a hug.
🐚 Luffy is absolutely addicted to their touch and will whine, wrapping his arms around them to convince them to cuddle in bed if they try and refuse him.
Roronoa Zoro
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🐚 Zoro is distant even with friends in terms of affection. It's just what he's been used to all his life and he can't break out of the habit easily.
🐚 With his partner, he tries to do it more often although they have to initiate it most of the time.
🐚 Zoro keeps his touches light and generally hidden. Leading his partner with his hand on their back as they walk, reassuring them by rubbing their arm, or locking his hand with theirs under the table.
🐚 When completely alone, he gets a bit softer even if he is still hesitant. His eyes will have a small shine as he caresses their cheek, memorizing their face with pure adoration.
Nami
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🐚 Nami likes physical touch but only when she's known the person long enough. She welcomes hugs and other touches but if it's a stranger, she'll shrug them off and tell them not to do so again.
🐚 Her partner definitely knows how affectionate Nami can be. She can't help it since she's so in love with them!
🐚 Nami might try and complain if she's busy despite knowing how much she loves it. Trying to navigate with her map, using her finger to memorize the pathways and lands, she felt her partner's hand come around her waist and their head resting on her shoulder.
🐚 She couldn't help but smile while keeping her eyes to the map, pausing her finger in its place. "You know... I can't focus when you do that."
Vinsmoke Sanji
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🐚 Sanji is sly and confident in taking his opportunities to initiate physical touch. It's not even necessarily in a perverted way, but just because he loves to show affection physically.
🐚 His partner will never know the end of his affection as he uses any excuse to touch them. His hand lingers on theirs as he passes their plate to them or he'll swear that he just needs to spoon them when he sleeps or else he'll be cranky in the morning.
🐚 Sanji is likely the least concerned about how PDA looks because he's just showing off what is his. It especially becomes apparent when he's jealous because his hand is never leaving their body.
🐚 Sanji's goal with physical touch toward his partner is to see them get flustered by it. However, turn the tables on him and he's kicking his feet in the air and giggling.
Usopp
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🐚 Usopp is absolutely down for physical touch but will hesitate until he knows the other person would be okay with it. The moment he gets confirmation that it's okay or the other person initiates it, he'll happily go along with it!
🐚 Usopp is a bit nervous when it comes to relationships since he's always second-guessing himself. His starting physical touches will be his fingertips touching theirs but then quickly pulling away.
🐚 Once he knows his partner is comfortable, he’s all about it! Hugs, smooches, you name it and Usopp has it :)
🐚 Usopp will just be head over heels if his partner initiates physical touch on their own. Even if it’s in passing like a small kiss before a fight starts, he has to take a moment to process before snapping back to reality.
Mihawk
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🐚 Mihawk isn't shy as much as he is reserved. He isn't a big fan of PDA although he'll indulge his partner in private.
🐚 He's very much someone who only tolerates so much from his partner over anyone else. If anyone else attempted, he's giving a warning look when they even try and reach out to him. For his partner? They could be smothering him while he's trying to focus and he's not making any effort to take them away.
🐚 He pretends to not enjoy his partner’s affections but the moment they pull away, he’s immediately trying to get them to come back and do it again.
🐚 Mihawk shows more of his affection when seeming jealous. Although, it’s not that he’s jealous of other men but more so possessive over what is his.
Shanks
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🐚 Shanks is affectionate towards those he knows and doesn't hesitate to show it. He's just so loving and that doesn't go away for his partner.
🐚 Shanks is always so soft and gentle. His way of showing physical touch is always delicate.
🐚 He'll be laying down, barely awake, swearing he isn't asleep like always. When he senses his partner beside him, he'll crack a smile and pull their face closer, placing a small kiss at their cheek.
🐚 In group settings, he'll have a drink in one hand while his other hand will be firmly around the waist of his partner. He just loves having them close.
Buggy
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🐚 Buggy is not capable of shame and is unapologetic, especially with his partner in terms of PDA.
🐚 Genuinely doesn't matter who is in attendance, he's holding onto them in any way he sees fit. Preferably he has his partner sit in his lap while he talks.
🐚 Buggy finds it hilarious to find any way to embarrass his partner and makes it a personal goal to see them blush or get nervous by him. So you can trust that he's always upping how intimate his touches are.
🐚 But, Buggy isn't patient either. There'll be a point where he just tosses his partner over his shoulder and walks away with them for a more private show just between them.
Koby
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🐚 Poor bby boy Koby is an absolute wreck when it comes to physicality because he's nervous to go too far or initiate it. His partner will likely have to be the one to do so.
🐚 Koby's favorite is late night cuddling though. Burying his head into the chest of his partner, whether of embarrassment or comfortability or both, who knows, but it's an adorable sight to see regardless.
🐚 Any physical touch will have him doing an upside down smile in response while he looks away, even if it's hand holding.
🐚 Koby loves to receive kisses from his partner and often goes out of his way to do things that their partner would approve of to get more of them like a reward. Because that's what he sees that as. His reward from his gorgeous partner.
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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churipu · 4 months
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jjk men & their sleepyhead gf !
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featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. none, just them being all soft and whipped for you
note. first of all, anon i am so sorry, i accidentally posted your request on the queue list and fml, i'm so embarrassed but idek how to edit the queue list so out of desperation i deleted it— but i ofc screenshotted this before i deleted the og post, so i am so sorry :(( i hope you enjoy this, and i hope you get to find out i didn't delete your ask and it's here in a form of a screenshot :((
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GOJO SATORU. i feel like he doesn't mind most of the time— he does mind it if you fall asleep when you're supposed to be paying attention to him >:(
but whenever you fall asleep, his camera's always on standby, snapping pictures of you from every angle. whether you look good or bad (you never look bad btw), from up above, from below, from the left, from the right, with 0.5, i can go on.
and when you wake up, you find your phone blowing up with notifications from shoko, geto, and him, especially with the notification "@gojosatoru tagged you in a post" and it's just a slideshow post of you sleeping, a few close up shots, and your face with different instagram filters.
you don't even bother at this point since he's not going to stop, and not gonna lie, you did find it a bit funny. and the comments from shoko and geto made you laugh, so... good luck trying to sleep around him, you'll wake up to a whole album of you sleeping on his account.
"satoru, what the fuck is this filter?" it was a filter that made your face a little distorted, and gojo'd just sitting there innocently, blinking his white lashes up at you.
"you look adorable, princess."
"i don't want to sleep around you anymore."
"no, please sleep— how am i supposed to continue my daily updates of you sleeping?"
mind you, he has 200 posts on instagram and 150 of them are just you sleeping + with the cheesiest captions like "my baby is sleeping, pls tell her to wake up bcs i miss her 🥺🥺🥺"
and shoko is all up in his comments like "wake her up yourself, dumbass she's literally in your house."
SUKUNA RYOMEN. the first time you fell asleep around him was when he went out to get a glass of water, but he didn't think of it as anything and thought you were just tired.
but no— you fall asleep anywhere, whenever and most of the time. he gets pretty frustrated when you both spend time, and in a bit, your head leans onto his shoulders and sukuna checks on you, and you were out like a light.
"y/n?" soft snores.
he clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't push you away or get angry, although he finds you cute. sometimes snaps a few pictures to keep, but you don't know about that.
and at times, you wake up all tucked in your bed—your favorite plushie beside you, and sukuna nowhere in sight.
you open your phone and there's a few text messages from him.
[ you fell asleep, so i left ] he didn't leave, he said that to make you feel bad and for not giving him enough attention— he stayed in the same seated position for a few hours before prepping you onto your bed, tucking you in and not forgetting to place a smooch on your forehead.
[ call me when you wake up ]
[ love you ] awww.
he's so in love with you.
NANAMI KENTO. he's such a gentle soul, he won't mind if you fall asleep or is asleep whenever he comes over. in fact, he enjoys it when you fall asleep.
he read somewhere that if someone feels tired or sleepy around a person, it's because they feel safe. so nanami just concludes that his girlfriend feels safe around him, safe enough for her to get sleepy and fall asleep on him.
"kento," you murmur half-asleep, stretching your arms.
"hm?" he hums out, opening his arms for you to fall into — which you did, and he craddled you in his arms, placing his cheek onto your head.
"night night." it wasn't even night time, you just had to say it before you go to sleep, and nanami finds you so cute he couldn't help but to squeeze you a little.
"night night," he replies back, kissing your forehead.
nanami just sits there and continues craddling you in his arms, and if he needs to go, he would put you on your bed (on his bed when it's his house), and writes you a short message why he needed to go and when he will be back.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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