#On the Fifth Day of Christmas one -shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fayes-fics · 11 months ago

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Moments: 'Twas The Nights Before Christmas...

Moments Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It’s Christmas, and once again, the Bridgerton clan are gathering at Aubrey Hall to celebrate together. However, all Benedict can think about is conceiving a fifth child... if only he and his wife can get a moment of privacy.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, breeding kink. Fluff & humour, thwarted intimacy, kids being kids, Viscounts being Viscounts.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Sorry this is about 2 weeks late, but here is the latest festive one-shot for Moments. It is set 6 years after the main story/their marriage and is based on an idea from the lovely @colettebronte (Request: Benedict and Reader want some adult alone time but keep getting interrupted/foiled because of holidays, family, and SO MANY KIDS), who also beta read an early version. I hope you all enjoy <3

23rd December, 11:04pm

“Was your evening agreeable, Mrs Bridgerton?” His voice is silky as he trails hot kisses down your throat.

“You know it was,” you reply, hand sinking into his lush hair, directing his lips where you want them as he smirks knowingly against your skin. He always enjoys it when you lead him, pushing into his warm body, clad only in a white ruffled shirt and trousers.

This is you finding a moment of intimacy with your husband as you get ready for bed in your guest room in Aubrey Hall. It’s two days before Christmas, and the entire Bridgerton clan have gathered at the family’s country seat to celebrate the holiday, a large house now packed with many children. You and Benedict are here with your brood of four.

Just as your fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt and his land on the bow of your gown…

“Mummy, I cannot sleep,” a little voice cuts in from across the room.

You twist around to see your youngest, two-year-old Thomas, standing in the doorway, his little fist clinging to the door handle at head height.

“One moment, lovely,” you call, watching him nod drowsily and toddle back into the adjoining nursery.

You bury your forehead into Benedict’s shoulder, knowing the possible romantic interlude is lost but unwilling to admit it out loud.

“Why do you have to be so damn handsome?” you grouse.

You feel his quiet laugh quaking his body as much as you hear it. “Thank you, my love. But that seems a non sequitur to this particular dilemma?”

“Quite the contrary,” you counter, raising your head. “We would not have these offspring interrupting us if I could resist you,” you sigh, shooting him a mock pout.

He breaks into a full belly laugh that creases his whole face. “How about I deal with the children I am responsible for, and you get some well-deserved rest, hmm?” he suggests chivalrously, nuzzling your cheek.

“You know, such wonderous things make me open to persuasion about more children, Mr Bridgerton,” you jest lightheartedly, swatting his bicep playfully.

His responding chuckle is rich. “Why do you think I do it, Mrs Bridgerton?” he hums, his lips grazing your temple, his flirtatious tone causing that flutter low in your belly. He has been quite enthused by the idea of a fifth child for a while now.

“Mummyyyyyy,” Thomas reappears at the door, his tone more whiney this time.

“You get Daddy this time, Thomas,” Benedict responds over your shoulder, releasing his hold on you, walking over to the doorway and hauling his infant son into his arms. “I hope I prove an acceptable substitute; Mummy needs to rest. Now, how about a Christmassy bedtime story…?”

Before he disappears into the nursery, Benedict shoots you a devoted but heated look that makes you want to strip him bare.

—

24th December, 7:14am

“Good morning, beautiful,” Benedict breathes into your ear as you awaken.

Last you remember, when you stirred in the early hours, you were alone in the bed. You had padded to the nursery and clutched your chest at the sight of Benedict, and the little ones all curled up on a mass of pillows and blankets on the fireplace rug, just visible in the ember glow, an open book in his hand. After a few beats of staring at the adorable pile of sleeping Bridgertons, you closed the door quietly and snuck back to bed. He must have awoken at some subsequent point and joined you.

“Good morning,” your reply is scratchy from sleep, burrowing back into your husband's embrace, reluctant to throw off the covers just yet.

“I think I would like to persuade you this morning…” his opening gambit as his hand slides down over your thin silk nightgown, rucking the hem up your thighs.

“To do what?” you obfuscate, an unseen smile toying on your lips. You know precisely what he refers to, but you want to see how he will broach it.

“I do believe you may be amenable to more children, my love,” he rumbles into the nape of your neck, dropping a kiss there as his warm fingertips swirl on your thigh.

“Am I?” you feign ignorance, that smile growing wider, a flush spreading through your being at how your husband can be when babymaking is on the cards. “But this is not a family wedding, and that is your usual milieu,” you tease, flipping over to capture a brief, chaste kiss.

“A family gathering is close enough,” he counters over your lips, then swallows your noise of bemused derision with a passionate kiss that has you arching up and pulling him on top of you as your tongues tangle.

“IS IT CHRISTMAS?!?”

Amelia barges through the nursery door, a ball of enthusiasm and jumping excitement.

“I thought I locked that blasted door...” Benedict grumbles tacitly over your cupid's bow as you giggle.

“Not today, Amelia, that is tomorrow,” you respond placatingly, turning your head to look at her and stroking your husband’s arm as he sighs deeply into your neck, knowing your intimate moment is gone.

Your tiny entertainer climbs onto the bed as your husband rolls away defeated, a triumphant look on her face as she claims a prime spot among her favourite audience, her parents.

Isobel then appears in the nursery doorway holding Thomas’ hand. “It is only fair we get to join too,” she appeals.

“Fine, yes, come join us, my sweet,” Benedict calls genially if a touch reluctant.

“I brought the story, Daddy,” Isobel adds as all three settle between you, handing over the book he had been reading the previous night. “I thought you and Mummy could read the rest to us; we do so need to know how it ends, do we not…?”

Amelia and Thomas nod along, enthused, and you have the creeping suspicion your children have somehow conspired to get their way. Especially when eldest James wanders in and casually perches at the end of the bed, a lopsided smirk identical to Benedict’s as he pointedly gestures for you both to begin reading.

“I do believe we may have been hoodwinked by our children,” you sidebar quietly to your husband as he opens the book to locate where he had left off.

“I suspect so,” he responds sotto voce, but there is such contentment in his tone as he surveys the gaggle of children filling your bed—you just know he could not be any happier about it.

—

24th December, 9:57pm

You are taking some fresh air on the terrace after another busy family day, rounded off with a convivial dinner when strong arms wrap around your middle.

“The children are in bed, sleeping this time. Should we resume our plans?” he rumbles as he pulls you back into his solid frame.

You scoff bemused. “Here on the terrace? Where any of the family could wander out?”

“You didn't seem to mind all those years ago when you were pregnant with Isobel,” he points out, both of your eyes cutting off to the pillar where, indeed, you had taken your husband into your mouth right there after the family Christmas dinner.

“You cannot hold me responsible for my behaviour when I am pregnant; you know how I get,” you shoot back, lacing your fingers with his hand at your waist and swaying gently.

“Oh, I think it simply delightful. Why do you think I want you pregnant again, my love? Hmmm? We could take a walk somewhere. Perhaps the woods?” His voice is low and skitters over your collarbone pitched at that cadence he knows always makes you weak.

“‘Tis late December and close to freezing,” you point out feebly, your reticence ebbing as his warm lips land on your shoulder, right by the neckline of your dress.

“I will keep you warm,” he vows, sucking your skin insistently, a damp heat that invariably ignites a flame in your gut.

“You are so very persuasive, husband,” you mutter, pushing your bottom back against the nascent swelling in his britches and guiding one of his hands from your waist up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

“I do so enjoy persuading you,” he purrs before opening his mouth wider and gently grazing the edge of his teeth over your flesh, your arm reaching up to wrap around his neck, grinding back against him insistently now and sucking his fingertips into your mouth.

“Benedict! I was wonde….” the Viscount’s voice rings out.

Anthony bustles onto the terrace but stops short at the sight of you both in an ardent cinch. You immediately slide away from your husband but know it’s too late, both of your clothing slightly dishevelled and a bloom on the top of your collarbone from your husband’s zealous attentions, your saliva glistening on Benedict's fingers.

“Sorry…”Anthony stumbles, his cheeks heating at the obvious interruption.

“I apologise, my lord,” you lower your head, embarrassed.

“Perhaps it would be wise to keep your… amorous activities… to more private spaces,” he chastises gently, recovering.

“Was that not you and Kate I saw against the stable wall yesterday?” Benedict challenges, wrapping his arm around your waist, defiantly pulling you back into him, his tone full of sibling goading.

Anthony flushes claret red. “Well… I…” You can feel Benedict smirking as his older brother flounders. “That is no matter. But I wish to discuss something with you if you do not mind,” he finishes pointedly with a brusque nod, firmly changing the topic.

Sensing there is something Anthony would like to broach now, you twist your head to whisper to Benedict. “It sounds as if it would be best you do as your brother wishes, my love. We will resume later, I promise,” you pledge, your voice intentionally laden.

“I do believe you are right, as ever,” he concurs reticently, squeezing your waist. “I shall see you anon,” his whisper thrillingly auspicious.

—

25th December, 2:17am

“Do you think the Viscount will mind?” You murmur, your lips on his ear as you rise and fall. Pressing yourself into him as much as possible.

“That we are fucking in his dining room in the dead of night?” Benedict checks, his hands banded around your waist, encouraging your movements. The moonlight streams through the large windows, throwing everything into sharp relief, the room bathed in streaks of light and shadow.

You giggle and gently teeth the shell of his ear, slightly breathy with exertion. “Yes.”

“Yes, I think he will mind,” he chuckles, splaying his large hand wide, hooking his thumb onto your clit even as his fingers crest your hips. It makes you groan loudly, your hardened nipples dragging against his chest, adding to the sensation as you ride his cock. “But I say this is apt payback for his interruption earlier. So make all the noise you want, darling.”

“He can watch for all I care,” you stutter, leaning away from him and grasping the large, sturdy banquet table behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck him harder.

Benedict groans at the idea you would fuck him even with an audience. His eyes are on your face as you look down, watching his solid cock disappear inside you by the pale glow of the room. It’s a sight you always enjoy, feeling him push you open inside as you sink.

“Do you like what you see?” He murmurs his voice buttery, his thumb on your clit circling more insistently now.

You tear your eyes away from the hypnotic sight and raise your head to meet his hooded, amorous gaze. “Always,” you affirm.

It’s a daring thing to do in the early hours of Christmas Day while the rest of the gathered Bridgerton clan sleeps. But after two days of thwarted intimacy, this was almost inevitable.

You had retired as Anthony detained Benedict in his study discussing business matters. However, you awoke thirsty sometime after midnight and came downstairs for a drink. Benedict had followed soon after and found you—sipping a glass of water and staring out across the moonlit grounds.

One kiss led to another and another, and then you were both peeling off nightwear. The look on his face as you pushed him into a dining chair and straddled his lap was priceless. And now here you are. Riding him with your feet hooked onto the crossbar of the chair gives you the leverage you need to go so hard that the sturdy chair squeaks in objection.

He utters words of encouragement as you tighten your arms around him and sit back upright, wanting to feel all his skin against yours.

“What shall we call this child?” he murmurs. “Perhaps Joy as it is Christmas?”

“We cannot conceive a child here!” you protest huskily, even as an excited quiver wracks your frame, so very needy after so many denied attempts at intimacy since you arrived.

“Oh yes, we bloody can,” he growls and surges his hips upwards, his cock grazing so deep you go limp at the sensation of being plundered so thoroughly.

“What if it is a boy?” you gasp as he takes over, his grip on your hips vicelike as he lifts you and then pulls you back down into his lap in forceful strokes.

“Noel, of course,” he chimes, jubilant, not missing a beat with his movements.

You just nod weakly, too drunk on the sensations coursing in your body to disagree. His mouth is back on that same spot he bothered earlier, no doubt leaving a dark mark you already know he won't care for you to conceal. He loves it when you bear his love bites, even in front of his family.

“Unhook your feet,” he mumbles, and as you do so, he stands up, still buried inside you and lays your back upon the table.

Then it's a blur of swallowed moans and dewy skin as he fucks you hard, your nails scraping down his back as his hands band under your shoulders, tugging your whole being down onto his cock relentlessly, the table now squeaking louder than the chair had.

You babble a litany of encouraging words into his hair and hold on tight, your heels digging into his rear, skating the edge of that enthralling abyss that is so addictive.

“Come for me, my love,” he pleads, those fingers back between your bodies, catching your clit. And then you are away, breaking and tumbling over the edge, trying desperately to muffle your ecstatic cries, face buried in his neck as your whole body spasms and bliss radiates out from where you clench hard around his cock.

His movements become erratic, and his grasp on you so tight before he growls and freezes, a groan wracking his body, his seed spilling deep inside as you still float away, writhing under him as he pins you down.

And, a few minutes later, after re-dressing, you both creep back upstairs to your room, giggling and wrapped in each other's arms, grateful it seems no one has stirred (yes, not even a mouse) on this magical night before Christmas.

Some Moments are indeed best uninterrupted.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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yuri-is-online · 10 months ago

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To the Reader, My Tenderest Freak of Freaks

Hello, I am Yuri. This is a side blog for my writing, currently there are only Twisted Wonderland fics here, but I intend to post original work here in the future~

Rules for requests can be found here,

Thank you to the named anons for your support.

(Twisted Wonderland)

Long Fic

When He Sees Me: Azul Ashengrotto (x)

The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme (x)

Misc.

"Do Be Gentle With Me" (Jade Leech) (suggestive) (x)

First Rule of Mountain Lovers Club (x)

Random Rollo Headcannons (x)

Eel Wedding (Jade Leech) (x)

Boys Being Jealous of Grim (x)

What, Are You in Love With Me? (Ace) (x)

JadeYuu go dancing (x)

One-Shots

Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Pt. 1) (x)

Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Pt. 2) (x)

Shades of You (Jade Leech x Yuu) (x)

Cute, Right? (Floyd Leech x Yuu) (suggestive) (x)

Why So Rude? (Everyone x Yuu) (x)

Sled Ride Together With Yuu (Jade Leech x Yuu) (x)

Out With the Old (Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle x Yuu) (x)

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu) (x)

It's Not Going Away (First Years x Yuu) (x)

You, I, and the Wall (Octavinelle x Yuu) (x)

Missed Connection Section of the NRC Gazette (Floyd, Leona, and Ruggie x Yuu) (x)

Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu) (x)

Consider the Shrimp (Jade Leech x Yuu) (x)

You May Now Kiss the Shrimp (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu) (x)

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu) (x)

Soft Toxic Whispers (Jade Leech x Yuu) (x)

Ortho Decorates for Christmas (x)

The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight (Octavinelle and Scarabia) (x)

Why Can't I Be Your Spouse? (Leech Twins) (x)

Why Can't I Be Your Spouse? (Trey, Jamil, and Leona)

Summer is in Your Eyes (Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle) (x)

Birthday One-Shots

Oh No You Don't (Ruggie Bucchi) (x)

A Step Behind the Curtain (x)

Bitch the Pot (x)

Series

Follower Milestones

300 Follower Celebration (So So Shojo)

500 Follower Celebration (Invitation to the Masquerade)

800 Follower Thank You (Seven Plus One Happy Haunts)

MMO AU

Landing Page

Mafia Ayuu

Landing Page

A Fyuuture Kid AU

What happened to Yuu? (x)

What happened to the Main Cast? (x)

Daytime TV Dreaming (Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle) (x)

Soap Operatic Symphony (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia) (x)

Fyuuture kid dunks on Ace (x)

Why is Azul's Fyuutre kid afraid of him? (x)

Yutu and Yuu (x)

What does Yutu look like! (x)

Some of Yutu's happy memories of Yuu (x)

Floyd! Fyuuture kid hc (x) (bonus)

Uncle Jade with Floyd's kid (x)

Cater! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

More Ace! Yutu dunking on him and Riddle! Yutu has a nightmere (x)

Riddle! Fyuuture kid hc + general info (x)

Ace! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Jade! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Ruggie! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Malleus! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Lilia! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Idia! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Leona! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Kalim! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Deuce! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Trey! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Epel! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Azul! Fyuuture kid hc (x)

Rook! Fyuuture kid hc (pt 1/pt 2)

Some Fyuuture kids bonding with their dads (x)

Overblot Kids and their dads (x)

Fyuuture Kid Unique Magic (ft. Riddle, Cater, Ace, Jade, Floyd, Azul, Ruggie, and Vil) (x)

Uncles Ace and Deuce (x)

Azul reacting to the Yutu reveal (x)

Hints of Rollo (x)

Grim Ranking the First Years (x)

A potential list of real names (x)

Soulbound AU

inspiration taken from this post by tiyon, please check out their soulmate au here

rules

first post

Idia and Leona thinking about Yuu coming to TWST just for them

adding some angst

Ace and Deuce in denial

Aceyuu "Rewrite the Stars"

What if Yuu was Cursed?

Family Day

The Quiet Part (Azul, Jade, and Trey x Yuu) (x)

Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu) (x)

Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu) (x)

There's Mud in Your Eye (Leona and Deuce x Yuu) (x)

And Your Name Is?

Jade, Leona, Riddle (x)

Ace and Malleus (x)

Sebek, Silver, and Idia (x)

Deuce, Azul, Floyd (x)

Time Loop Angst

Original Ask (Vil, Azul, and Malleus) (x)

The Rains Have Ceased (Riddle, Cater, and Idia) (x)

Another Beautiful Day (First Years) (x)

Theory Posting

A Pocket Full of Posies and Rollo's Hankie (x)

Octavinelle and Loneliness (x)

Sometimes the Wallpaper is Just Yellow: A Heartslabyul Color Analysis (x)

You Simple Vile Monstrosity: Rook and the Flowers of Evil (x)

#pinned post #masterlist #housekeeping

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aethon-recs · 2 days ago

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This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (8 – 21 November 2024)

Hello! We have three multi-chaptered fics finishing this week, highlighted below. In addition, I made a rec list for Tomarrymort Necrophilia Fics 💀🤍 in support of the Tomarrymort Necro Fest hosted by @magical-menagerie-server, which kicks off in January.

Completed Fic:

Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89 (M, 47k, complete) Age catches up with everyone. The infamous serial killer Voldemort now spends his time reading newspapers and making trips to the local library in search of a new crime novel. But one day he makes an interesting new acquaintance that shakes his quiet life and rekindles old flames and unknown desires. What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries (M, 17k, complete) Harry is sold at auction to a man who is clearly in some kind of disguise - Lord Riddle isn't as charming as he looks, and the way he looks at Harry... A Regency AU inspired by the magnificent artwork of @stolenviolet. If I were you by @onehitpleb (E, 9k, complete) It is 1945 and Tom is eighteen, freshly graduated, and working a non-reputable job as a store clerk in Knockturn Alley. Somehow, he grows attached to the worst sort of person - an idiot.

In addition, a recap of the author notes from last week! (Please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, such as a little bit about the chapter(s) updated, and I’ll throw it in the update for next week!)

A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight (E, 70k, WIP) “As for the new chapter of A Simple Request, Harry tries and (unsurprisingly) fails to keep his personal life private. Some are having the time of their life, some others, not so much. Lifts can take you up, but going down is more interesting.” Wish by @sri-verse (E, 3k, WIP) “Wish is set after Harry's fifth year where he gets the ownership of Bellatrix's vault along side the Black vault. Looking at a gold goblet, he remembers his childhood wish of buying a gold cauldron and brings back Helga Hufflepuff's cup with him to fulfill that desire, unaware that he has freed the horcrux living in it.” To the Hilt by @izharmilgram (E, 28k, WIP) “To The Hilt is a royal arranged marriage au featuring nontraditional a/b/o, political schemes, ancient greek and abrahamic religion references, feral harry potter, and lots of power play and worship. It's neither only tomarry or only harrymort, but tomarrymort—meaning the core relationship is Tom/Harry/Voldemort. This includes Tom/Voldemort.” we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee (M, 50k, WIP) “The consequences of Harry's Time Travel seem inconsequential, at first. Until they stare right back at him with vicious eyes. There's trouble brewing in every direction, and the Future is not as certain and set in stone as one might think.” Time Stumbler by @wintumnly (T, 102k, WIP) “Harry is stuck in 1937 and spends the holidays with almost-eleven-year-old Tom Riddle. On the first day of Christmas, they both anxiously wait for Tom's Hogwarts letter together. Fluff, humor, and Tom Riddle is not good with feelings." 7 by @moontearpensfic (E, 44k, WIP) “Harry goes back in time to raise Tom AU: the boys discuss what might have happened to make Voldemort go to "sleep."” Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 22k, WIP) “Harry corrupts Tom AU: Tom and Harry celebrate Christmas--and something more! Your Wish, My Command by @moontearpensfic (E, 8k, WIP) “Hinny adopts Tom AU: Tom finally gets Harry to crack. 🔥”

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Complete | Chapters 8 and 9 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Complete | Chapter 6 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Complete | Chapter 4 of If I were you by @onehitpleb

Complete | Chapter 19 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

One Shot | To be Imagined by @cyandenial

One Shot | god's hands by @curioushabitforarivergod

One Shot | bad behaviour by @milkandmoon-ao3

One Shot | two ways of being: the noun & the verb by cycloalkane

One Shot | set my soul on fire by @wynnefic

One Shot | Beach Episode by @crowcrowcrowthing

One Shot | First Duel by @being-luminous

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 12 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapters 7 through 11 of in the silence by @satflesk22

Chapter 4 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 15 of Embryo by @cannibalinc

Chapter 4 of As It Begins by @duplicitywrites,@moontearpensfic

Chapters 7 and 8 of Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapters 15 through 17 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 1 of the night is cold in the kingdom by @girl-with-goats

Chapters 5 and 6 of you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria

Chapters 131 through 134 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapters 1 and 2 of Small Mistakes by Crisis_Brewing

Chapter 5 of Hit 'N Run by @dragonaireabsolvare

Chapter 11 of Days always end in sunsets by @d00medbythenarrative

Chapter 25 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapters 8 and 9 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 21 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapters 6 through 8 of To the Hilt by @izharmilgram

Chapter 9 of Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 2 of Infinite by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 2 of Prizefighter by @dragonaireabsolvare

Chapter 8 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapters 13 and 14 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapters 23 and 24 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 13 of He Who Shall Not Be Changed by @moontimefilter

Chapter 17 of Last Son of Black by @treacleteacups

Chapter 6 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarrymort recs #aethon recs #tomarry recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #hp fic recs #harrymort recs #tomarry weekly #this week in tomarrymort

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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

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Seeing Double

Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)

(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)

Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.

The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.

When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.

And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.

One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.

Fuck.

It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.

As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.

Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.

More often than not, you were thinking of him.

More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.

More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.

The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.

You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.

He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.

He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.

If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.

Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.

You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.

So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.

And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.

You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?

Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.

The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.

It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?

You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.

There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.

Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.

You wanted your effort to look effortless.

Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.

You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.

Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.

Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.

You flop down and take in the carnage.

Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.

You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.

Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.

Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?

You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.

You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)

Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)

You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)

Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)

You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)

Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...

You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)

Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here

You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️

🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...

Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.

He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.

The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.

You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.

It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.

He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.

You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.

You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.

How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.

Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.

You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.

That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.

You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.

You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.

He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.

You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.

What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.

You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.

Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.

You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.

The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.

It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.

It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.

You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.

And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.

There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.

Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.

On your way to Bradley.

When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.

He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.

Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.

They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.

Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.

Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.

His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.

He looked damn good.

But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.

He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.

There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.

Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.

The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.

They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.

Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he says, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.

“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”

“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”

“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”

Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.

“No shit,” Bradley laughs.

“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”

“See you on Sunday for brunch.”

He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.

Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.

He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.

Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.

He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.

Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.

He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.

Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.

That is whenever you get here.

Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.

No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.

Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.

He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.

You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.

After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.

His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.

Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.

He liked that you were his girl.

Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.

Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.

He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.

“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.

“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.

“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”

He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.

Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.

“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.

“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.

“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”

“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”

“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlocking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.

He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.

“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.

As always.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”

“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”

He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.

Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.

“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.

“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.

“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.

She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.

“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.

“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.

“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.

Rooster and Nat exchange a look.

This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.

Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.

The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.

“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”

“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”

“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.

“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.

“And not all at once,” Bradley mutters.

“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.

“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”

“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.

“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”

Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.

“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.

That gets his attention.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.

He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.

You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.

Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.

You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.

There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.

It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.

You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.

Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.

He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.

A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.

He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.

Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”

“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.

He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.

“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”

He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.

“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.

“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.

“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”

“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”

“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”

“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”

He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”

“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”

“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.

And in that moment, he just knows.

The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.

“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.

“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.

He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Bradshaw!”

Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.

You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.

He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.

And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.

Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.

You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.

Yeah, it looks really good on you.

Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!

If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!

If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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princessmisery666 · 9 months ago

Text

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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amethystarachnid · 10 days ago

Note

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.�� Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

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writing-intheundercroft · 1 year ago

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Masterlist

Finally put together a masterlist of everything I've written! Take note, most works (okay all of them) are NSFW, MDNI!

All works can also be found on my AO3, wordswe_neversaid

Series:

When We're Older (Sebastian Sallow x F!Slytherin OC) Rating: E Chapters: 22/30 AO3 Link Summary: Forever indebted to his two best friends, Theodora Caulfield and Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow swears that he’ll be a better man. He’ll balance his classes, new job, good grades, future career prospects, and his social life, all while promising to never delve into dark magic again. He promises to figure out a way to make it up to Anne, win Ominis’s trust back, and help Theo hone in on her ancient magical abilities. When Sebastian Sallow sets his mind to something, he rarely gives up (clearly to his own detriment). Promises are easy to make at sixteen, and even easier to break as one gets older.

Your Ivy Grows (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader/OC) Rating: E Chapters: 11/?? AO3 Link Summary: Ominis Gaunt cannot see, but he can feel. He can feel the tall thickets of grass outside of his Aunt Noctua's house, now his for the summer. He can feel the sand down by the beach, the water of the tide pools, the overgrown ivy in Noctua's beloved garden. Most importantly, he can feel the gentle brush of his house guest's hand against his as they take their daily walk. He fears that he may feel much, much more for his new house guest.

This Little Life (Auror!Sebastian x F!Reader) Rating: E AO3 Link Summary: Scenes from a life with the auror, Sebastian Sallow. The Night Shift ~ Only You ~ At Home ~ Wreck My Plans ~ Bite The Hand

One Shots:

Tis the Damn Season (Garreth Weasley x F!Reader) Rating: E AO3 Link Summary: You're back from five years of traveling the world and living in America, and Garreth Weasley invites you on a foraging trip down to his family cottage in Cornwall. You accept, having regretted not sharing your feelings when you last said goodbye. Or, the origin story of the Weasley knitted sweaters.

The Perfect Gift (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader) Rating: T AO3 Link: Coming Soon Summary: Ominis overhears the girls talking about some singer, and decides to write MC a song for Christmas. Sebastian can't help but be his wingman.

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman (Leander Prewett x F!Reader) Rating: E AO3 Link Summary: You never think much about your friends' roommate, Leander. Until you start crashing in his room.

Tried and True (Ominis Gaunt x M!Reader) Rating: T AO3 Link: Coming Soon Summary: Days after the events in the Scriptorium, Ominis can tell something is up with the new fifth year.

You're Gonna Go Far (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader) Rating: E AO3 Link Summary: It's the night before graduation, and Ominis Gaunt is moving to New York City next week. There isn't much time left to say all the things that have gone unsaid over the past seven years.

#writing-intheundercroft

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bronx-bomber87 · 11 months ago

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Happy Friday everyone! Doing today cause I shall be doing 5x01 On Sunday like I mentioned before to not be posting on Christmas. :) Holy crap we’re on the S4 finale. I remember when I watching it when it premiered thinking is this real life? Thought I was in a fever dream haha Made some long gifs to fit everything in LOL This one is super packed also this ep doesn’t need much more of an intro. So let’s get this party started.

4x22 Day in The Hole

Our fav patch work family gets the cold open. This moment truly is Tim and Lucy in mom/dad mode. Makes me so damn happy. Tim complaining because Tamara is late to meet them. Moaning on and on saying they have to go... but makes no effort to actually move or leave. Because the both of them have Tim wrapped around their finger. That man isn't moving but will complain the whole time about it LOL Lucy going into wifey mode calming him down saying she’ll be here. Relax. ha

Tamara pulls in and almost hits someone. In a police station parking lot... Their reactions I’m dying. Just a couple of concerned parents watching their kid almost cause an accident. Lucy is a proud mom as she pulls up. Clapping her hands. Tim looking like the stern father. He glares at the car wanting to see if this car is safe enough for her. This is a glimpse into them as parents. I’m liking what I see. Also can I say how cute it is Lucy wants Tim to look at her car in first place. Of course he said yes.

Tamara comes out and says isn’t she pretty? Saying it’s her first car. Lucy correcting her saying actually her car was her first. Tamara makes a joke about it being her fifth if they’re talking stolen. Tim has such a dad moment. ‘What?’ She loves to push their buttons it’s hilarious. Telling Tim it's a joke. Just loves messing with her pseudo mom and dad. Lives for it really. This is a fantastic way to start this episode off.

The family energy in this scene giving me all the feels. Lucy telling her to get it checked by the mechanic first. That you never know what cars from seized police auction go through. Tamara says Tim set her up with his guy already. Lucy is beaming about this. Says ‘Awww you do have a heart.’ ha Tim can't be seen as soft so he deflects.

But you are soft for both your girls Tim…This much is obvious ha You're a soft little puppy for them. I mean it's only for them but a marshmallow none the less. His reply is sassy af. Saying it’s purely out of self interest. He didn’t want to deal with Lucy being a drag with her dying in a mangled fireball of metal on the 405. The scoff/look Tamara shoots his way is hilarious. Tim fires back ‘Joke.’

Like Father like daughter and I’m dying with the cuteness in this cold open. Also Tim mirroring her posture from when she said 'Joke' to him. LMAO Unfortunately a drug sniffing dog starts barking at the car. Tim opens the hatch back and searches it. Find kilos of drugs hidden in the compartment. Tamara looks so sad. ‘I’m not getting my car back am I?’ Hahaha Sorry my dear you are definitely not…

Lucy looks up who the car is registered to. It's ‘Jake Butler.’ Lucy pulls up his mug shot and is confused as hell. Ahhhh the beginning of Dim it’s glorious. They pick up his doppelgänger and it's pretty amusing. Didn’t have room for that portion but his ‘Yo, why you looking like me?’ LOL Kills me. They get him into interrogation and the girls are having a field day with it. Enjoying Tim's discomfort so very much. Tim isn’t about this whatsoever of course.

Lucy says maybe they were separated at birth? Tim replies he’s a year older than him and was born in FL. You can see how unsettling he finds this. Tim tries to brush this off. Saying he doesn’t look that much like him. Ok honey… Angela saying he’s not the brightest bulb. Lucy gets excited and says ‘Tim and Dim’ LMAO Enjoying herself far too much with this. Angela and Nyla are joining in on it laughing with her. They aren't helping tamp down her excitement about this at all.

Tim calling Jake 'Dim' is hilarious. Lucy's face when he does is too cute. Also It cracks me up the minute they enter interrogation Dim hits on Lucy. Doesn't waste any time. I’m dying. Also you know Melissa and Eric had a blast filming these scenes. They’re so funny. The cockiness on Dim saying she would remember ha! Man isn’t lacking in the confidence department that's for sure. They tell him they found his car. He gets all excited saying someone stole it LOL

They inform him it was towed cause he parked by a hydrant haha Tim confronts him about the drugs in the car and Dim denies having it. Because of course he does. His fingerprints are all over the bags. Tim says he helps them and they’ll keep him out of prison. Dim gets offended and says he thought they had a bond ha.

Lucy asks where the drugs came from? He tells them Mexico that he was supposed to drive them over the border. But then he wanted to see his girl first before he dropped them off. I.e. Juicy heh When he came back out the car was gone. Tim asks for the name of the guy they were going to. He tells them Ray Hajek. Lucy gets a look in her eye and asks if his crew ever met him? He tells them no but why? We watch Lucy light up and Tim is confused why she is so excited haha

It’s here we see Lucy’s excitement go into hyperdrive. I love this portion because she is like a kid in a candy store with this. The sugary high to go along with it LOL Grey and Angela are no help to Tim whatsoever. They are beyond amused by Lucy’s antics. Like to note how easily Tim gives into Lucy’s demands here btw. You're married you just don’t know it yet.

Once he agrees Lucy gets ultra hyper which has me cackling. I love how she stops him with her hands. Because she’s too excited to walk now. Saying all the things they need to do to get him to look like Dim. Tim pointing out she is enjoying this way too much. Duh. I love her excited speed walk to catch up to him and say he needs tattoos. Lucy was a little too excited for those tats heh She sure loves the idea of a clean cut Tim Bradford covered in tattoos.

We pan to Lucy being on the team watching Tim’s OP. Part of the rescue team if needed. Kinda nice to see her on the watching end instead of him. Being just as much the worried wifey as he is the husband for her when she does UC. He gets taken up to the boss and does a damn good job of it. They’re pissed at him first because he disappeared with their drugs. Tim saying he went to ground because he didn’t want to get caught. Trying to avoid jamming him up.

He then asks why Wisco his heavy shouldn’t throw him over the balcony? We watch Lucy and Angela tense up. Tim has this handled with his reply above though. He is shocked with his intelligent reply. Saying he heard he was dumb. Tim continues on saying he wants people to think he’s dumb. Means they underestimate him.

That answer is enough for him. Tell Tim get his cash on way out. Or he could do another job for him and triple it. Tim asks what kind of job? He won’t divulge that portion just yet. Only that it’s heavy and tomorrow. They’ll need a driver. They heard his old lady is fast. Tim makes a crack 'Sometimes too fast.' He laughs and tells him they’ll be in touch with him.

Angela catches Lucy and tells her she had Dim’s GF picked up. Lucy is like 'Ok…Wait why are you being weird?' Angela says she needs to see for herself. She is enjoying this far too much. It’s Juicy! Haha Having AU Tim and Lucy makes my soul happy ahahah Now Tim is the one enjoying himself. Lucy is in shock when she sees her doppelgänger. Angela adding in ‘I guess we know who’s going undercover with Dim.’

Tim’s taunting is funny I’m rolling. ‘Yeah Juicy.’ ‘No’ ‘Mmhmm It’s Juicy’ LOL I’m dying this is so hilarious. Not so funny when it’s your double eh Lucy? Also you know Angela was enjoying this way too much as well. Lucy’s ‘I don’t like that…’ cracks me up. She is so disturbed by having her own double. She was having fun before and now she doesn't like it. Also probably stirring some stuff up there is an AU version of them out there. Not only that but they're together.

We’ve arrived at THE scene for the episode. Tim is over at Lucy’s for OP prep. Saying the backstory has to be airtight. Lucy agrees with him and asks how they met? Tim's answer of a BBQ is vanilla as it gets. This is why she’s the UC babe LOL Lucy telling him that’s lame. I love her just being so upfront with him. She always is but there is a confidence here I love. This is her wheelhouse and Tim is just along for the ride. This is her show really and she proves that in this scene.

Tim is such a stubborn turd saying ‘You think you can do better?’ Oh Timothy you’re about to have your mind blown and your brain broken…She starts out strong saying ‘Watch me.’ Lucy rubs her hands together. Saying they met because he was on the run from the cops. Tim nodding along but not totally sold yet. Lucy continues on with he ended up in her building frantic.Looking for a place to hide.

That she was the one who opened up the door for him. That she lied to the cops for him. It's here we see Tim starts to be impressed with her backstory. That sweet smirk of his in the second gif. You know he is in awe of her right now. That smirk and head tilt is a dead giveaway. Look at how soft he looks gazing at her. Fooling no one sir.

Lucy’s confidence continues as she finishes up their backstory. It's the smug smile and direct eye contact she gives him as she delivers that line above that gets me. I watch this scene and I’m still in shock we got it. That Lucy is talking about their alter egos hooking up while the cops search for him. Thus his brain malfunctioning. Tim’s reaction is glorious. It will always make me laugh no matter how many times I see it.

Kudos to Eric for crushing it like he always does. Lucy short circuited his brain and it shows. He is having an repeated error message and failing to reboot. You can tell he’s trying to hide the fact she turned him on a little. She achieved this with her confidence through out the story and just blowing his mind right at the end. The man will never recover. He is legit speechless.

Tim was not expecting her to go there at all. She floored him while simultaneously turning him on LOL His professional brain came to a screeching halt when she finished. Also I'm sure he wasn't expecting to be turned on by just her words either. His body was not ready for such things. Good thing he’s sitting cause I’m sure his pants just got a little tighter….

Tim then remembers he has to reply to her plan now haha Trying to gain his wits about him. Telling her ‘Ok….that..that's pretty good actually.’ Pretty good? She just blew your backstory out of the water. Then proceeded to make your brain stop working. You know he’s a mixture of turned on and impressed as hell with her. Won’t say so but his face said it all for us didn’t it? He legit had his jaw drop like a cartoon hahaha

Tim is seeing she truly is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to UC holy crap. She is also basking in the fact that she crushed his plan with her own, made him speechless, and then got a compliment out of him. Lucy is feeling pretty proud of herself when she says 'Thank you.' I love seeing this confidence on her. It's a good look. Just like I'll never over Tim's growth same goes for her. To see the confident bad ass woman she is now. How far she's come. I love it seeing it.

Once Tim has some semblance of a brain back he mentions the elephant in the room. That if they’re gonna sell they're together. They’re gonna have to...You know…. Lucy knowing exactly what he’s talking about but giving him a hard time. Trying to get him to say the words. Pretending like she has no idea what he’s talking about. He continues to get flustered and stammers around. Poor Tim. He struggles with his words and stutters. He’s shocked she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Lucy is enjoying herself far too much. Look at her face. Letting him dangle and trip over his words. Knowing talking about this is making him so very uncomfortable LOL So mean to do to your soulmate Lucy ha She finally throws him a lifeline and says we might have to PDA? Tim gets frustrated she strung him along and says never mind. Lucy stops him and says he’s right. If they’re going to kiss it shouldn’t be for the first time.

Then the awkwardness that is them pre-kiss ensues. They’re not sure what to do now…So Lucy suggests they stand up. No one does awkward better than these two. They’re so out of their depth right now. It's hysterical. I love a nervous Lucy Chen she is beyond adorable right here. The way Tim starts to lean in and she bails LOL Saying ‘No’ with a nervous giggle ejecting far away from him I’m rolling.

She totally chickens out at first and I don’t blame her. After last episode I'm sure her emotions are going haywire in this moment. Being shy because she already knows of the feelings there. That this was going to bring them out even more. Tim is about to find out himself what this kiss will reveal. Tim is exasperated and not understanding what’s going on here.

He's got a let's do this and get it over with attitude. The thing is Tim is nervous too. Look at him in that first gif. Takes a deep cleansing breath before trying to give her a kiss. He is just as nervous as she is. One thing to banter and flirt with your partner. It's another to kiss them. They’re both buzzing with nerves and it’s adorable af. Hats off to Eric and Melissa in this scene. I can feel all their anxiety and giddiness in this moment. They do an amazing job in this portion.

Tim get frustrated again and says ‘Oh, you know what? We’re professionals. Let’s just get this over with.’ Lucy’s reaction is the best part LOL Telling him 'Whoa! that’s romantic.' His childish reply of saying he wasn’t trying to be romantic LMAO OMG it’s a good thing you’re about to kiss. Because I wanna yell at them to kiss and get a room already.

Their banter is primo in this scene. Legendary really as is this entire scene. We talk about them being married a lot but never more so than before this kiss. Lucy telling him he’s succeeding and he replies with his pouty face. It’s all so hilarious to watch unfold. Lucy’s nervousness continues to shine through. Trying to reset herself as she psyches herself up to kiss him.

Tim never fails in making me laugh with his expressions and reactions. Telling her in an sarcastic tone to ‘Take her time...’ LOL Lucy trying to give herself a pep talk while Tim stands there exasperated af with her. He is so very done at this point. Just waiting her out at this point. Because he’s used to his wife antics. I love his annoyed deep sigh he let outs when she’s ready to rejoin him. The way he swings his arms in impatience lol

Tim finally leans in and gives her the most pitiful peck on the lips. He’s so proud of himself when he pulls back though. It’s pretty damn adorable if you ask me. He is expecting praise from his girl only to be demolished by her. Lucy was definitely expecting way more than what he just delivered. It's almost like she has to hold back a laugh at his lack luster attempt. Also that he thought he did a good job with it. Saying ‘I'm s...Sorry, is that it?' After all that build up just an innocent peck on the lips? Tim is so offended about her critique till she lays one on him. Effectively silencing him with a kiss. Also like to note how I love how this season started with an almost kiss and ends with an actual one. Lovely bookend.

I’ll never be over her cutting him off with her lips and grabbing him by the face. Pulling him forcefully towards her lips. *phew lord* Has his whole face in her hands while she has her way with him. I love how he stumbles into the kiss at first. If you watch him in the beginning of this gif you see him fall forward into the kiss. Wasn’t expecting that show of force from her. He needs a second to readjust his body into what’s now happening. Both of their frustrations with each other melting away once their lips touch. Takes them a moment to find their rhythm. Then it’s all about melding into one another. Fitting like the perfect puzzle pieces they low key always knew they were.

How Lucy’s right hand drops to his chest as she gets comfortable in this kiss. In his arms. Doing what comes naturally while in them. She keeps her left hand firmly on his face though. Keeping those beautiful lips of his directed at her. We watch Tim start to melt into Lucy as well. See how his body begins to relax against hers. His hand has made it's way up to her shoulder. Had this continued I have no doubt they would've swapped places from where they started. His hands continuing their journey upwards. Tim encasing her face in his hands as he continued to kiss her as if his life depended on it.

We see them start to get lost in their kiss. That argument of their's a moment ago is long forgotten. It’s such a sexy first kiss sweet lord. Tim has quickly adjusted from the beginning of the kiss. He's eased into it now and is ready to go for more. We saw him begin startled then quickly relax into her as the kiss goes on. Seems so natural like they've done this before. Reminds me of Chandler and Monica. When Joey/Rachel ask Chandler what he felt when he and Monica kissed after being friends for so long? Telling them felt like 'Why haven't we been doing this the entire time?' This kiss represents that line IMO.

Look at the way he is melting into her as he looks to deepens that kiss. He’s attached to her upper lip. We can see a little tongue too. Don't think I didn't see you slip that in Timothy heh. He is ready to take this further when their pseudo daughter walks in….I love it being Tim who deepened that kiss. Making that all important first move once again. Lucy wasn’t complaining one bit btw. Cracks me up how Tamara's first solution is to go. Let them have more time alone. I'm sure she's thought of them getting together before.

She doesn't seem terribly shocked by this so much as incredibly amused. How could she not with how they are? Then the awkward hilarity begins. I’ll never be over Lucy’s ‘Oh!’ As they fly apart from each other. Both trying to put a continent between them. It’s so damn funny. Went from hot and heavy to insanely embarrassed. The music stopping abruptly as well. Never fails to make me laugh my ass off. There is so much to love after the kiss as there is with it.

The way they scramble to explain why they were making out is priceless. Stumbling over their words and each other. Lucy trying to explain that this is 'Work' Uh huh. Sure let's call it that. Tim adding on they're going UC. Tamara is bemused to say the least. Telling them they don't have to explain themselves to her. Tim then starts looking desperately for items he didn’t bring LOL Then realizing he has nothing to gather up.

'You know what? No. I didn't bring anything...' LMFAO Flustered Tim Bradford is a joy to watch. Lucy already broke his brain earlier and then destroyed it with that kiss. You know he’s in love because that man doesn’t get flustered easily. He legit doesn’t know what to do with himself. Other than awkwardly retreat from Lucy. He is shook and it’s showing big time.

I love that he’s a complete disaster just from kissing Lucy. This entire scene is iconic and makes me so happy to watch. They awkwardly point at one another. For what reason I couldn't tell you. Other than they don't know what to do with themselves right now. The height of nervous awkwardness has arrived and I’m joyful Haha They’re both so embarrassed and flustered it’s glorious.

Lucy is flaming red after she tells Tim 'G...Good work tonight'. She is mortified she just said that to him after they made out. Tim replies in kind because he is also nervously awkward as he leaves. She can’t even look at him as he makes his hasty exit. Her back is turned to him as he departs and does another dorky finger point. Saying bye to Tamara as he does. Lucy's facial expressions are legit killing me. She then she turns around to face Tamara and it only gets worse.

Lucy has no idea what to say to being caught making out with Tim. Tamara's face in that second gif is hilarious. It's like she's giving Lucy a chance to explain herself further. Wanting to see what she'll come up with. She notices Lucy isn't in the right state of mind for answers. So Tamara saves her further embarrassment and says she’s headed to her room…Bless you. Your pseudo mother needed that LOL

We join Tim in the hallway post all of that mess haha. I once again must commend Eric and his wonderful expressions. He conveys so very much in this moment. It’s the range of emotions he expresses that is so impressive. He just nails it. This is the moment where Tim realizes his feelings for Lucy. Yes she short circuited his brain 100 percent here. But there is far more to this expression than that.

4x21 was Lucy’s epiphany episode. This is Tim’s 'Oh shit I’m in love with Lucy' moment. It’s like he finally has the answer to why he’s always felt the way he’s felt. Why he fought so hard for her not to wash out. Why he said and did things he didn’t totally understand for her. Explaining why he was so protective with her in UC. Why he was ALWAYS happier around her. Just like Lucy it’s hitting him like freight train. His feelings coming sharply into focus.

He goes from broken brain, to realization he’s in love with her, to oh shit I’m in love with my best friend...what am I going to do? The way his eye bug out a little as he comes to this conclusion is everything. That kiss cleared the skies in his brain. He can see clearly now and it scaring him a little. Everything was muddled before and now it’s clear as day. He looks back at her door before he is able to unroot himself from that spot. Tim Bradford is in love with Lucy Chen and it’s just hitting him ❤️

The awkward cuteness continues the next day. Tim is sitting in his truck with his thoughts. Probably having an existential crisis in the process tbh. I bet you he didn't sleep a wink last night either. Probably trapped in his thoughts the entire time. Also he is clearly just waiting for Lucy to appear. Which is pretty damn adorable.

He perks right up when she arrives. Makes me heart so happy actually. Giving me all the feels. He is so adorable waiting on the girl he loves so he can talk to her. They’re both so smitten at this point my heart is gonna implode. She spots him waiting in his truck. Then does her adorkable wave at him when he notices her looking at him. It's so cute I cannot. They’re both so nervous it’s beyond precious.

First off love them matching in colors. I feel this was intentional both being in light blue. Once they reach each other the air is rife with unresolved tension. They cut each other off both wanting to speak. Lucy tells him to go first. You can see Tim desperately wants to clear the air. Be vulnerable about the kiss. We see the hope on Lucy’s face as he struggles to find the words. That he is going to say that kiss unlocked something, that it was more than just a practice kiss etc.

That does seem where he is headed when he started this convo. Then our boy loses his nerve completely. Says they should work more on their backstory …You can see the sheer disappointment on Lucy’s face that he said that instead. Probably wishing she had gone first and not him. It’s ok Tim you’ll gain the courage in 5x08 don’t worry. My little awko tacos. How I love thee.

Phew lord that was daunting to write about and tackle haha The sheer volume of gifs out there for this one are immense. But damn I love their slow burn so very much and adore writing about it. Can’t believe we’re done with s4 what a trip.

~~~

Side notes-non chenford

Nolan had a SL but meh.

The only parts worth mentioning are Nell/Elroy being adorable. And how hilarious it was Pete slept through the entire fight scene for Bailey LOL

Thank you to all the readers been with me on this especially those from the very start. You know who you are :) Your likes, comments and reblogs have been a bright spot in my day shall see you all in S5 woo.

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drabbles-mc · 11 months ago

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For the Record

Javier Peña x GN!Reader

For @pickled-pena's writing challenge!: resolutions, pickle/jar of pickles, "You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?"

Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of injuries, angst/arguments

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This was such a fun challenge! Thank you to the mods for putting it together! It's also been a while since I've written for Javi so that was a treat too haha. Happy New Year, y'all! xo

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @il0vebeingdelulu (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You were standing in the kitchen, holding the refrigerator door open as you looked inside it for the fifth time since you’d gotten home less than an hour before. No new food had appeared there in that span of time but you still kept coming back to check anyway just in case. You weren’t even actually hungry, although you should’ve been with how hectic the day had been and the fact that it led you to not being able to eat anything since your coffee and half of a pastry on the way to base that morning.

If you had still been back home, you would just be enjoying No Man’s Week—that week between Christmas and New Year’s when not much of anything gets done by anyone even if they have the best intentions. But you weren’t home. So instead of staying home and ditching work completely, or sitting in an office pretending to work but really getting nothing of the sort done, you had been running around the streets of Medellín trying to catch Escobar’s men and trying not to get shot in the process. Much less relaxing.

Along with your day being the opposite of relaxing, you also weren’t successful in either of the things that you had set out to do. The information that you’d been gathering had gotten you pretty far, but not quite far enough. The member of Pablo’s team that you’d been tracking for weeks slipped through your grasp, although it wasn’t without a fight. That much was evident because of the bullet that had gone clean through your bicep, and the other that had buried itself in your tac-vest. It was not a successful day.

Now, on top of your day being unsuccessful, everything else was infinitely more difficult to do when you only had full use of one arm and hand, and of course it wasn’t your dominant one. You should’ve taught yourself to be ambidextrous.

Then, as if all of that wasn’t enough salt rubbed into your very fresh wounds, you were about to make a final decision on what was going to pass for a very sad dinner when the lock flipped on the apartment door. You heard the click and you let out a sigh purely out of reflex as you let go of the fridge door to let it fall shut. Your jaw was clenched tight as you heard the apartment door swing open and quickly slam shut. Dramatic. He was always so dramatic.

“What the fuck was that?” he said as he started to storm into the kitchen.

You turned around to face him, your face as neutral as you could manage it. “Lock the door, Javi,” you instructed, purposely ignoring the question he’d just thrown at you.

He froze for a moment, hesitating. It took a second for him to process what you’d said, realizing that you weren’t giving him the argument that he’d been gearing up for the entire drive back to your place. He obliged, albeit begrudgingly. He was shaking his head the whole time, about two seconds away from stomping his foot like a toddler in the midst of his tantrum.

“Well?” he dove right back into it once the lock was in place.

“Well, what?” you asked, tone even as you turned back around to the fridge to open the door again, this time just to have an excuse not to look at him.

“You know what.” He wasn’t yelling, too exhausted for that, but even with how low his voice was it still held plenty of anger, still sharp enough to feel like it was cutting you. You heard his footsteps behind you even as you kept your eyes glued to the inside of the refrigerator. When he spoke up again you could practically feel his breath against the back of your neck. “You never should’ve been out there alone.”

You refused to turn around and look at him. “Some things can’t wait. You of all fucking people should know that. Plus it’s not like I didn’t try to get you to go with me, but no,” you dragged out that last word to twist the knife a little more. “Only you’re allowed to do that apparently.”

He scoffed. “What’s that supposed—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your laugh cruel enough to put you on even footing in the argument. “Don’t insult either of us by finishing that question.”

There was nothing in your fridge that would even come close to constituting a meal. You’d been living on takeout for the last few weeks because of how hectic everything had been. No time to grocery shop and definitely no energy left to cook. But you didn’t want to leave your apartment now that you were home, so you were just going to suffer through by grazing on the scraps that you had. You reached for the nearest jar on the refrigerator door, grabbing it with the one hand you still had full use of.

Javi watched as you side-stepped your way out of being boxed in by him. You moved to the side and set the jar on the counter, and Javi waited a second before he moved right along with you, trapping you between him and the counter now instead of the fridge.

As much as Javi wanted to plead ignorance, he knew exactly what you were talking about. It wasn’t something you brought up often, saving it for times when you needed a good card to play. This was one of those times. He was angry about it but he’d done it to himself in a way—he knew that. He tried to come to his own defense. “That’s not the same. You know that. What I did—”

“Was fucking reckless,” you snapped, slamming the jar down on the counter, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to make both you and Javi flinch. You tightened your grip on the lid, not even trying to open the damn thing, just trying to channel all of your anger and exhaustion into something that would cause minimal damage. “You can’t stand there and be pissy at me for what I did today when your track record is what it is. It’s not,” you scoffed, “it’s not even fucking close.”

“You got fuckin’ shot!”

You turned around to face him, stanced up like you were ready to fight despite the fact that you were bandaged up and strapped down in a sling, a last-ditch effort from the doctors to try and remind you not to move your arm if you could help it. “And you got Steve fuckin’ kidnapped!”

Javi flinched at the accusation, the truth of it stinging just as much as the rest of it. “It’s not—”

“And, for the record,” you turned back around and set back to work on opening the jar on the counter, “I tried to fucking tell you. You didn’t wanna hear it. You didn’t think that I had anything. So don’t stand there and act like I just up and out of the blue decided to go rogue. I tried to make sure someone had my back and you bailed on me.”

You didn’t touch him. You weren’t even looking at him and yet he found himself taking a step backwards like you’d shoved him with both hands. “Hey.”

“No,” you refused to turn around and look at him, dedicated to the tear that you were about to go on, “no don’t give me that. You feel shitty about it? Good. You should feel shitty. Because it didn’t have to go down like that today. You wanna come in here and yell at me and say that I was acting stupid and reckless and I just—you didn’t leave me any other choice!” You tried and failed to twist the lid on the jar, only adding to the frustration that was stacking endlessly on your shoulders. “You stand there and accuse me of all this shit, but where were you at the time? What else was so promising that you just fucking hung me out to dry?”

“If you knew I couldn’t be there then you should never have gone out on your own.”

“But you could’ve been there! You were supposed to be there!” You wanted to throw your hands up in exasperation and you couldn’t. You turned around to look at him, hating that you could feel the tears in your eyes. “You promised. You can’t just treat your promises to me like, like the bullshit excuses you give our boss. They’re not just some red tape you have to find a way around. You owe me more than that.”

He frowned, the response that he’d been building up in his head evaporating completely the more he listened to you, not just to your words but to the sadness in your voice, the dejection. He never wanted to make you feel like that. Until recently he hadn’t ever been in the position to make someone feel that way—his relationships never unfolded the way that yours had.

He still wasn’t ready to spit out an apology, though.

“I don’t think they’re red tape,” he finally said. He took a deep breath as he reached around you and took the jar off the counter.

“Javi—”

“Let me finish,” he stopped you before you got on another tirade. He easily twisted and popped the lid off the jar you’d been struggling with before setting it back down on the counter. Neither of you commented on it. “I should’ve listened back then. But you didn’t say a damn word to me today once we left here. I had no idea where you were until I heard a call on the radio saying you got fuckin’ shot.”

“Would you have even shown up?”

“How can you ask me that?”

“Because you blew me off once.”

“In a fuckin’ meeting! In a conference room! I would never—” he stopped short, getting himself together. “No one goes out alone like that.” He paused, hurt crossing over his expression for a moment. “I don’t let you go out alone like that.”

If you hadn’t been so exhausted, you would’ve had more angry things to say. More cutting comments to make. But as it stood, you just wanted the day to be over with, wanted the argument to be over with or at least paused. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to keep hashing it out after a decent night’s sleep. You were trying to figure out a way to say all of that when the sound of your stomach growling cut through the tense silence of the apartment.

You sighed, about to cobble together a sentence of some kind when Javi spoke up for you. “Eat. Get some energy to yell at me more later.”

Despite the exhaustion and the stress, you managed a smile. “Tha—”

“That all you’ve had today?” he asked.

“Not really,” you said, your tone markedly different than it had been a few moments before, “but sort of, yeah.”

“I don’t think pickles count as dinner after the day you had.”

“Well,” you reached into the jar with your good hand and carefully pulled one out, “I don’t think that you brought home dinner.” You took a bite of it. “So this is gonna have to do.”

“I can run out and grab something,” he offered, not quite an olive branch but something close.

You appreciated the offer but you still shook your head no. “It’s fine. We’re both home. Let’s just…yeah.”

He knew that he should’ve fought you on it, gone out and gotten something more passable for dinner anyway despite your protest, but he didn’t. Of all the arguments the two of you were bound to get into, he didn’t think it was worth it to make this one of them.

“We gotta get better about cooking,” he said as he stepped over, reaching in and taking a pickle out of the jar.

You let out a tired laugh. “Next year, maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Thought you didn’t do resolutions?”

“I don’t. But, you know, still sounds good.” You paused for a brief moment. “Yours should be to listen to me more.” There was no real malice behind it, almost like it was a real piece of advice.

He took it as such as he leaned back against the counter beside you, studying your sling, your face, your everything. “You alright?”

It wasn’t funny, per se, but you still had to laugh at the fact that it took you both this long to get to the point in the conversation where he was asking you that. Typically that’s the first thing someone asks when they hear you got shot.

“I will be,” you told him truthfully.

You leaned, letting your head drop against his shoulder. You let out a deep sigh, one that he mirrored soon after. Part of you felt like maybe there was something else that you should be saying, but when you felt the kiss that he pressed to the side of your head, you figured that whatever was left to say could wait until later.

#pickledpena #pickledpeña writing challenge #pickledpeña #javier peña #javier pena #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #x reader #x reader fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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amywritesthings · 1 year ago

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it's time to celebrate amymas !!

I have never done a fully-realized writing challenge, but I'm happy to announce that I have created my first-ever original holiday prompt to thank all of my readers, both old and new, for supporting me through 2023:

Welcome to The Twelve Days of Amymas!

From December 1 - December 31, I will be posting twelve original one shots with some fan-favorite pairings we have not seen in a while, as well as a few new faces. The short stories are all holiday or winter-themed. Some will have mature elements. See what's cookin' for the holidays below!

THE FIRST DAY

Din Djarin x Princess : First Snowfall (Chapter 16 of Point A to Point B)

THE SECOND DAY

Nanami Kento x Reader : Mistletoe

THE THIRD DAY

Joel Miller x Gibson Girl : Holiday Decorating (from the series: Seeing You, Seeing Me)

THE FOURTH DAY

Levi Ackerman x James : Snowball Fight (from the series: Silver Underground)

THE FIFTH DAY

Gojo Satoru x Reader : Holiday RomComs

THE SIXTH DAY

Eddie Munson x Reader : Holiday Lights Crawl (from the series: The Freak & the Valedictorian)

THE SEVENTH DAY

Dieter Bravo x Reader : Hallmark Movie Set Surprise (from the series: Same Old Mistakes)

THE EIGHTH DAY

Astarion x Tav : Winter Ball (Part 4 of The Better Strategy)

THE NINTH DAY - CHRISTMAS EVE

Armin Arlert x Reader : First Christmas

THE TENTH DAY

Kino Loy x Reader : Wish (Chapter 4 of Ownership of Mine)

THE ELEVENTH DAY

Reiner Braun x Reader : Gingerbread Houses

THE TWELFTH DAY - NEW YEAR'S EVE

Choso Kamo x Reader: New Year's Kiss

note: prompts and posting order are subject to change. asterisks are finished.

#holiday fanfic #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #eddie munson x reader #gojo satoru x reader #levi ackerman x reader #astarion x tav #dieter bravo x reader #armin arlert x reader #kino loy x reader #nanami kento x reader #twelve days of amymas #amywritesthings #reiner braun x reader #choso x reader

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honeysuckleharringtons · 1 year ago

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"Brew and Me" Series ~ S. Harrington x Reader

Summary: A dual timeline series about Y/N Byers, a part-time barista/student and full-time mother, and Steve Harrington, a quippy but attractive nursing student, and the game she creates in order for him to score a date with her.

Series Word Count: TBD

Series Warnings: in-depth details about teen pregnancy and its symptoms, in-depth talk about absent fathers and shitty men, details of earthquakes, mentions of hospitals/medical talk, food talk.

⚠️ PLEASE CHECK INDIVIDUAL CHAPTER WARNINGS BEFORE READING ⚠️

lil sneak peak snippet can be found here! ☺️

Part One: "Double Shot" ~ 1.8K words

Summary: (Then) In the small town of Hawkins, Indiana lies the Byers family, a family of four who might just be gaining a fifth member of the family. — (Now) Brew and Me, known for its punny motto and delicious coffee, might soon be known for bringing people together in unexpected ways.

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, small mention of abortion, vomit/morning sickness talk, mild swearing, mentions of food, mentions of medical-related things (not detailed, just mentioned)

POSTED ON: December 3rd, 2023

Part Two: "Déjà Brew" ~ 2.1K words

Summary: (Then) Back in Hawkins, Reader is still reeling from the news she's just received. Turns out, sometimes the love of a mother might just be the very help you need when times are tough. — (Now) At Brew and Me, Reader struggles with the stress of motherhood and working. Turns out, a visit from her least favorite patron might be the thing she needs to cheer her up.

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, mentions of food, mentions of medical-related things, small mention of childhood cancer (not related to any of the main characters in this series)

POSTED ON: December 3rd, 2023

Part Three: "Spilled Milk" ~ 2.5K words

Summary: (Then) Morning sickness has finally caught up to Reader, and unfortunately it has her spilling her guts in more than one way. — (Now) When Steve brings his roommate along with him to the coffee shop, the situation soon goes south when his friend starts to spill Steve's not-so-secret crush to a certain barista.

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, vomit/morning sickness talk, mentions of food, very mild swearing

POSTED ON: December 10th, 2023

Part Four: "Macchiat- Oh No..." ~ 2.4K words

Summary: (Then) Back in Hawkins, the time has come for Reader to break the news to her boyfriend… only, he doesn't take it as well as she'd hoped. — (Now) When Steve stops by for his daily coffee, things take a sour turn when his ex-girlfriend walks in.

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, mentions of vomit, adoption/abortion talk, mild swearing, Reader slaps and hits Jason, food consumption (Reader and Steve share a cookie), Jason is sorta out of character

POSTED ON: December 25th, 2023

Part Five: "Seasonal Specials" ~ 1.9K words

Summary: (Then) Christmas Eve has rolled around, and unfortunately for a very pregnant Reader, she is stuck at home with a migraine. Luckily for her, her younger brother doesn't make for too bad of company. — (Now) A slow shift at Brew and Me turns out to be a good night for advice and a call from everyone's favorite nursing student.

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, discussions of homophobia, discussions of abuse and allusions to physical abuse, discussions of slut-shaming, Reader is lowkey bad at advice when it comes to these topics LMAO, explicit language, food consumption (Reader drinks hot chocolate), not really a warning but Will is gay and autistic in this series

POSTED ON: December 25th, 2023

Part Six: "Full-City Roast" ~ 2.7K words

Summary: (Then) Valentine's Day has arrived, but unfortunately for Reader, it doesn't seem like much love is left in the air. — (Now) As the year comes to end, fireworks are going off everywhere, including in everyone's favorite little coffee shop.

Content Warning: the flashback chapter is pure angst tbh, partially takes place in a hospital, labor and delivery and medical talk, mentions of food

POSTED ON: January 7th, 2024

Part Seven: "Pour Over" ~ 1.6K words

Summary: (Then) Between postpartum blues and her baby's needy coos, Reader's having a hard time adjusting to her new life. But she quickly learns that sometimes you get by with a little help from your friends. — (Now) After dealing with her fussy child all night, the last thing Reader wants is a complicated day at work. Luckily for her, a certain nurse knows just how to make her day a little easier.

Content Warning: Content Warning: postpartum talk, anxiety talk, mentions of vomit (nothing in detail though), very mild swearing, mild hospital talk, mentions of food

POSTED ON: January 27th, 2024

Summary: Summary: (Then) Motherhood gets a whole lot more complicated for Reader when someone who she thought was gone for good shows up to meet her baby. — (Now) When Steve confides in Reader about his not-so-good relationship with his father, Reader reminds him that he's so much more than someone's opinion of him.

Part Eight: "Lukewarm" ~ 2.8K words

Content Warning: explicit language, infidelity/cheating (not by Reader or Steve), allusions to physical abuse, Lonnie is a creep and a douchebag, Steve's dad is an asshole, mentions of male genitalia as an insult, mentions of food, light mentions of medical stuff related to Steve's job

POSTED ON: February 26th, 2024

Part Nine: "A Steep Hill" ~ TBD

Summary: (Then) Despite the tragedy that's struck the Byers family, Reader finds herself quite happy with her new life. After all, there's nothing that brings people together like going up a steep hill with one another, right? — (Now) Steve is determined to make one last ditch effort at winning Reader over. However, his moment is ruined when a certain someone shows up at the coffee shop.

Content Warning: TBD

TO BE POSTED: January 21st, 2024

Part Ten: "I'll Chai My Best" ~ TBD

Summary: (Then) When Reader is reconnected with some old friends, she's reminded that sometimes it's okay to be vulnerable. — (Now) Reader's silly game with Steve's rears its ugly head, but the two remind each other that sometimes, it takes a couple awful tries before you get to make the beautiful latte art of life.

Content Warning: TBD

TO BE POSTED: January 28th, 2024

Finale: "A Whole Latte Love" ~ TBD

Summary: (Then) Reader's first day at her job takes an unexpected turn when a six-foot-something, handsome as all hell nurse walks in and, quite frankly, takes her coffee-flavored breath away. — (Now) Steve and Reader discover that with a little hard work and a whole lot of love, life might just treat you as sweet as the world's best latte.

Content Warning: TBD

TO BE POSTED: February 4th, 2024

series artwork: made by me!

series dividers: @firefly-graphics (edited by me to fit my theme better! feel free to tell me if this isn't allowed!)

support banners: @cafekitsune

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

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