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pitlanepeach · 26 days ago

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Radio Silence | Chapter Thirteen

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, basically no plot just fluff, minor autistic meltdown, they say the words!!!!!

Notes — This is just a little filler chapter to close out the 2020 season. Lots of fluff with some time skips too. The 2021 season will commence in the next chapter!

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2020

The three months after Spa passed in a blur of hard work.

Amelia didn’t think she’d ever get used to the rhythm of a Formula One season; the relentless forward momentum of it all. There were no breaks, not really. Just quiet moments between sessions, late nights in hotel rooms with Lando wrapped around her, and long-haul flights where she could finally catch her breath and run strategy models in her head for fun instead of for work.

Max’s car was improving week after week. The upgrades came thick and fast now that Amelia had full focus on him, refinements to aero flow, marginal gains in brake cooling, a few drastic shifts to weight distribution that she'd pressured the Red Bull engineering team to follow through with despite their hesitation.

Adrian had taken to calling her kid when she got too excited about a breakthrough, but it was always muttered with fondness.

And Max — Max was still Max.

He grumbled when she got picky with her data visualisation, called her irritant klein zusje when she insisted he sit through every single briefing, but followed her instruction anyway. Trusted her, even when she made calls that felt too risky. Especially then. He didn’t say thank you often, but when he did, it was quiet and sincere. She liked that about him.

And Lando.

She met his family in the weeks after Monza. He brought her to Glastonbury in the middle of a quiet break between races, beaming like he couldn’t wait another second to show her off. His mum was warm and lovely, welcoming Amelia with a hug and homemade cake. His siblings were all so unique, each of them brilliant in their own way, and eager to share their niche passions with her — from horse riding to finance to a surprising obsession with niche European cheeses. She adored them immediately.

It was easy to see where Lando got his unapologetic passion for racing from.

His dad, Adam, took longer to come around. He’d been blindsided by the announcement of their relationship, having found out with the rest of the world during the race coverage. Lando hadn’t told him — hadn’t wanted to risk the disapproval again. And Adam, used to being involved in every step of his son’s life, hadn’t taken kindly to being shut out.

But he came around. Slowly. Quietly. One afternoon in the garden, while Lando was inside, Adam turned to her and said, “I didn’t get it. At first. I was worried about what being with you would mean for his career. But he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. So I owe you an apology.”

Amelia, startled, could only nod.

She didn’t say it aloud — not yet, wasn’t ready to admit it even just to herself — but she was already more than halfway in love with Lando Norris.

—

Lando DNF’d in Eifel.

“They said it was a power unit failure,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “I could feel it going. Every lap, it got worse.”

Amelia nodded, watching him closely. “You did everything right. Everything Will told you to do.”

“That’s the worst part,” he said, eyes lifting to meet hers, tired and frustrated and still raw. “I didn’t mess up. I didn’t make a mistake. I just… there was nothing I could do.”

Amelia reached into her pocket, pulled out the soft, flexible tangle of her stim toy — one of the ones Lando had started calling squiggly guys — and handed it to him.

He took it without question, curling it absently around his fingers. “Thanks, baby.”

She leaned in a little closer now, shoulder brushing his. “You’re allowed to be upset,” she told him. “They have given you a car that is able to score points, but is dramatically unreliable. I would be upset too.”

He glanced sideways at her, a small, slightly twisted smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “You always say the perfect thing.”

“No, I don’t,” she said, nudging his knee with hers. “You know I don’t. I’m not good at comfort. I just tell you the truth.”

Lando twisted the stim in one hand, then reached for hers with the other, tangling their fingers together. “Still think I’m impressive, even when I don’t make it to the chequered flag?”

She blinked at him, pure honesty shining in her eyes. “You’re my favourite driver on the grid.”

It was true. Max was a close second. Lewis next.

She’d have to work on her rankings in 2021, when Fernando rejoined, but until then, she had it solidly figured out.

Lando let out a soft laugh, eyes closing as he leaned his head against her shoulder. “God, I’d be a fucking mess without you, baby.”

Amelia smiled, heart thudding steadily behind her ribs. “I know.”

—

In those three months, Quadrant grew.

It grew fast.

What had started as a fun, half-serious side project between Lando snowballed into something far bigger than anyone could have anticipated. It wasn’t just the occasional livestream anymore. It was a full-blown content collective. A brand. A business. Merch lines. Sponsorships. Contracts. Streaming schedules. Production meetings. More cameras, more followers, more of everything.

Lando was the founder of a company. Not just the face of a project, but the brain behind it too; the one calling the shots, making the pitches, signing off on designs. Sometimes he’d ask for Amelia’s opinion on things; colour-ways, logo placements, YouTube video titles. She’d answer, often unsurely, and he’d just beam at her like she’d solved world hunger, not told him to remove an unnecessary apostrophe from a word.

It made her feel involved. Not responsible for any of it, but close to it; close to him.

That’s how she met Max Fewtrell, too. Not over a screen, like she might’ve assumed, but in person. A warm blur of a memory from a weekend after the Nürburgring. He’d walked up with a grin, greeted Lando like a brother, and then turned to her with an easy, “You must be Amelia, then.” His tone had been teasing, but not unkind. He didn’t make her feel weird for being quiet or for sticking close to Lando’s side at first. Just accepted it, like that was normal. And eventually, it felt like it was.

She appreciated that.

And she appreciated what Quadrant gave Lando; a space to be silly, expressive, fully himself.

He was clever, of course. Wickedly sharp when he wanted to be. But more than that, he had this charm; this ease that pulled people in. They listened when he talked. They laughed when he made a joke. He had a way of making even the most chaotic moment feel like fun.

He was a natural leader. The members of Quadrant, new and bright-eyed, gravitated around him like he was a planet and they were caught in his orbit, a solar system he never asked for but carried with him anyway.

Sometimes, when he dragged her into the frame during a stream, pulled her gently onto his lap, or handed her his headset so she could talk to Max and the others while he went to grab snacks, she let herself wonder what life would be like if she was more like them. Loud. Unapologetic. Effortlessly funny and open and always ready with something to say.

But then Lando would come back, settle behind her like it was the most natural thing in the world, arms looping around her waist as if to anchor her. The chat would light up with heart emojis and sweet messages, calling them perfect. Yin and yang. A balance. A calm and a chaos that just made sense.

And everything felt right.

—

By November, Amelia knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Max’s 2021 chassis would be championship-worthy.

Not just competitive. Not just "in the mix."

Capable of winning it all.

It was in the data. It was in the simulations. It was in the late-night sessions with Adrian where they fine-tuned wind profiles until dawn crept over Milton Keynes. It was in the way Max trusted her notes, asked her opinion, built his feedback loops around her suggestions.

It was in the silence after a long run on the dyno, where every number lined up just the way she’d imagined they would.

Every week, a new idea implemented.

Every week, something smarter, sleeker, faster.

Red Bull had built fast cars before; but this one felt different. This one was deliberate.

Dangerous.

She hadn’t just contributed to it. She’d helped shape it. Every inch of it.

Her fingerprints were baked into the car’s DNA, and when Max drove it next year, it would be hers, too. In every corner he took flat, in every overtake, in every tenth shaved off in qualifying.

Mercedes would still be strong. She knew that.

But Max would take them toe to toe.

And Amelia would be right there at his side. Building, watching, calculating.

2021 wasn’t just Max’s shot at greatness.

It was hers too.

—

The season ended on a high. Abu Dhabi, a stunning victory for Max. A sign of what was to come.

It was the perfect way to close out her time at Red Bull. One final ‘You’re welcome,’ to rub in Christian Horner’s face.

They celebrated in Monaco, Lando surrounded by his friends and fellow drivers, with Amelia right there beside him. It was relaxed. Unfussy. And for once, she let herself unwind. She hadn’t expected to have as much fun as she did. She thought she’d just be there as Lando’s plus one, a quiet observer in the midst of his chaos. But with him there, the night had felt easy. He made her laugh. He made her feel at home in a crowd she usually would have kept her distance from. She didn’t even mind the noise or the flashing lights of the club, because he was there, and with him, everything felt just safe.

Lando was everywhere; dancing, laughing, talking to everyone, but he always circled back to her, like she was the centre of his world. Every time he found her across the room, usually huddled beside Max, his face lit up with a smile that made her feel warm all over. He pulled her into the dance floor, whispered things in her ear that made her blush, and made sure she had everything she needed. Even when the music was loud and everyone was buzzing, Lando had a way of making her feel like she was the only person in the room.

—

They were curled together on a sun lounger, tucked under a thin blanket that Lando insisted they didn’t need, even though his nose was a bit pink from the breeze. The Mediterranean shimmered around them in lazy shades of blue, calm and glittering beneath the winter sun. Amelia could hear the faint clatter of someone, probably Fernando’s kitchen staff, moving around below deck, fixing up some strange version of a Christmas dinner.

For now, though, it was just them. Just warmth, quiet, and the steady beat of Lando’s heart against her ear.

His arm tightened around her waist, his chin resting in the crook of her shoulder. “My rookie year’s over,” he said quietly, the words slipping out like they’d been sitting on his tongue for a while. “Feels weird.”

Amelia shifted a little, not quite turning to look at him, but enough that he knew she was listening. “Mm.”

“No more Carlos, either,” he added, like he still couldn’t quite believe it. “Zak said Ricciardo will be good, though. Great for the team.”

She hummed again. “I'm sure he will. Max still talks about him a lot.”

Lando huffed a small laugh, but there was an edge of unease to it. “That’s what people say. I just… I dunno.” Amelia waited. He always got there in the end, just took a bit of a winding road to get to the truth. “It’s stupid,” he admitted, eventually. “I know it is. But what if he’s better than me? What if everyone just… forgets me? He’s Daniel Ricciardo. People love him.”

“Lando,” she said, voice flat, like she couldn’t believe he was even entertaining the thought. “You can’t be forgotten. You’re too loud.”

He let out a weak laugh against her shoulder, his day-old facial hair tickling her skin. “You know what I mean, baby.”

“Yeah. I do,” she agreed. “I still think you’re being ridiculous.”

He was quiet for a second. “So you don’t think he’ll overshadow me?”

Amelia tilted her head up, just enough to meet his gaze. “No. He’s very charming, but he won’t overshadow you. McLaren is your team, Lando.”

That made him smile, just a little. “It might become Daniel’s team too.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. He seems fun. Annoyingly extroverted.”

Lando chuckled, the sound soft and fond. “That’s… yeah, that’s pretty accurate.” He was quiet again, but this time the silence didn’t feel heavy. Just thoughtful. His fingers found hers under the blanket, laced them together without saying anything.

“I’ll still be in the paddock. With Max. No more Red Bull team kit for me, so I’ll be able to wear my dresses and skirts and you’ll be able to pick me out of any crowd.” She mentioned.

“Thank God,” Lando murmured, tugging her closer and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She let herself rest against him, her head tucked into the curve of his chest, the rhythm of the sea matching the quiet beat of her thoughts.

Eventually, from below deck, Fernando’s voice called out, “Lunch is served!”

“Race to the stairs?” Lando whispered in her ear.

“I will push you over deck.” She said back.

He grinned. “Dare you.”

Amelia rolled her eyes, sat up, and tugged the blanket off both of them. “Come on, annoying,” she said. “I’m hungry. And I’ve never eaten Christmas dinner on a yacht before.”

Lando grinned and followed her, still barefoot, still completely in awe that this was his life now.

They had decided, sometime in early December, to spend their first Christmas together with Fernando in the Med. No need to pick between their families, no guilt over disappointing one side or the other. It had been a relief, honestly, to have an excuse not to navigate the pressure that came with the holidays; especially given how busy they both had been in the lead-up to the festive season.

Fernando’s yacht was the perfect escape. It was quiet in a way that made it feel like the world had been paused just for them. The gentle hum of the waves lapping against the boat, the soft clinking of glasses, and the warmth of the inside filled with Christmas lights and laughter. It was everything Amelia never knew she needed.

It wasn’t a grand Christmas, with piles of presents and extravagant dinners. It wasn’t anything they’d been accustomed to before, but that was exactly what made it so special. It was simple. Calm. The four of them together, enjoying a slow morning with gingerbread cookies, chatting about nothing in particular while Lando made his usual attempts at mastering the piano that Fernando kept telling him to stop touching. And Melissa was her usual gentle self, all smiles and easy to understand jokes.

They had a small, carefully set table for lunch. Lando kept teasing Fernando about being the most patient host ever, especially when he’d made them take turns decorating the tree, then reorganising it in a much more “tasteful” way after they'd gotten distracted by the snack table.

Later in the evening, after the meal and after a few glasses of wine, they all settled on the deck. The boat was docked now, and the evening sky was a wash of deep blues and purples, the first stars starting to twinkle. There was a low hum of festive music in the background, something quiet, something that felt fitting for a holiday that wasn’t about extravagance, but about peace.

Amelia leaned against Lando, his arm draped around her shoulder as he fiddled with his phone, texting back every member of his family who’d reached out throughout the day. She was content, happier than she had been in a long while. She kissed him without thinking and flushed a pretty red when Fernando voiced his unhappiness with a grunt that made Melissa laugh.

Lando grinned at her. She grinned right back.

It was their first Christmas as them, but it wouldn’t be the last.

—

It was the middle of January. The weather outside Lando’s flat in Woking was dreary and they’d spent the morning lounging around; Lando on his couch, flipping through old racing documentaries on Youtube, and Amelia at the kitchen counter, working on her iPad. She had a pile of notes scattered around her, data from the off-season simulations she was reviewing for Max’s upcoming season. The iPad was essential; everything she needed was on there, from the technical reports to the strategies she was working out in her head.

Lando glanced over occasionally, catching little glimpses of her sharp focus, the way her brow furrowed when she was deep in thought. He loved watching her work.

But then, without warning, the screen on her iPad flickered. Just once, and then the screen went black.

Amelia’s fingers froze mid-scroll, and Lando didn’t even have to look up to see the tension building in her posture.

“Amelia?” he asked, his voice a little more alert now, noticing the change in her.

She didn’t answer at first, just sat there, staring at the frozen screen, then tapping at the screen with increasing urgency. “Come on. Come on,” she muttered under her breath.

Lando watched for a second longer before standing up and making his way over to her. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Her breath hitched, and Lando’s stomach dropped. He knew the signs of a panic attack when he saw them; he’d witnessed them before, knew how things could escalate quickly. She was already starting to breathe faster, her shoulders hunching up like she was bracing for impact.

“It’s… it’s not working!” Amelia’s voice cracked, and she slammed her hands down onto the table, the iPad still refusing to respond. “It’s all on there, Lando. It’s all on there.”

“Hey, hey,” Lando said, trying to keep his voice steady as he crouched beside her, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air. “Baby, it’s okay, we can fix this.”

“No!” she snapped, and he flinched. Her eyes were wide now, glassy. “I—I can’t… everything’s on there! The reports, the numbers, everything I need to do and now—” She broke off, her voice shaking with frustration.

And fuck; Lando was lost. He had no idea what to do. He could hear her breath quickening, her frustration bubbling over, and he felt that same tight knot in his chest. He hated seeing her like this. Hated it even more because he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Amelia, baby, hey,” he said, trying to get her attention. She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes locked onto the unresponsive iPad. He took a deep breath, then, in one sudden motion, he’d pulled her off of the stool and into his arms. “Amelia,” he said again, his voice a little more insistent, a little firmer now.

She tensed against him, her whole body stiff and rigid, but he held her tighter, wrapping his arms around her, squeezing with as much strength as he could before he was risking bruising her delicate skin. “We’ll figure it out, alright? We’ll fix it, I promise. You had everything saved to your iCloud, right? It’ll all still be there.”

Amelia let out a shaky breath, but she didn’t pull away. She let herself lean her entire weight on him, her head resting against his chest, still breathing in short, shallow bursts. Lando’s arms were wrapped around her so tight it almost felt like he was afraid she would slip away from him if he didn’t hold on.

“I’m not good at this,” Lando murmured, his voice tight with the weight of his uncertainty. He could feel her shaking in his arms, her body rigid with the aftershocks of the almost-meltdown. “I don’t know what to do when you’re upset. I’m, uh... kind of panicking a bit.”

She let out a little laugh, but it was thin, frail. Still, it was a laugh, and that meant something. The way her shoulders loosened, just a fraction, made him feel like maybe he wasn’t failing her after all.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I just… I need my iPad.” There was a shaky inhale before she added, quieter, “I didn’t realise it would be this bad.”

Lando felt his heart break a little at the vulnerability in her voice. He had seen Amelia lose her composure before, but this—this was different. “I know,” he said gently, brushing a hand over her hair. “It’s important. Don’t be sorry for being upset.”

She nodded, her breath still coming in uneven waves as she took in a deep, steadying breath, pulling away slightly to look up at him. Her eyes were still wide, but the raw panic that had been there just moments ago seemed to be fading, replaced with something softer. Maybe exhaustion, maybe the quiet relief that came from feeling safe.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her words quiet but full of something deep. Gratitude, yes, but also something else. Lando could see it in the way she lingered on him, the way her gaze held his for a fraction longer than usual.

Lando’s chest tightened, a strange sense of relief flooding through him as he reached out, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. The air between them felt thick with things left unspoken, and for the first time, Lando found himself unsure. Was she ready for this?

He didn’t have long to wonder. She pulled back just enough to look up at him properly, a small, tentative laugh escaping her.

“I— I didn’t realise I was so attached to it until now.” She whispered. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t apologise,” Lando said, shaking his head. “I’m glad I was here to take care of you, and, uh, managed to not make it worse.”

“Lucky me,” she muttered, the words playful but laced with a softness. She settled back into his arms, fisting her hands in his t-shirt.

“We’ll go get you a new one, yeah?” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. His fingers ran through her hair, his touch gentle as he let her relax against him. “A better one. Newest one they have. I’ll even give you some Quadrant stickers to put on your new case. Maybe that’ll make it worth it.”

Amelia let out a small, quiet laugh, her body warm against his. The tension in her shoulders had melted away.

“I think I love you,” she whispered softly, her words barely above a breath.

Lando froze, a lump in his throat as her words settled between them. For a moment, he was speechless. His heart pounded, and he pulled her closer, if that was even possible.

“Holly shit,” he breathed out, his voice shaky with emotion. His hands cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he searched her eyes, looking for the truth in them. “Yeah, I love you too, baby. I’m so glad you said it.”

Amelia’s eyes softened, and she pressed her forehead to his, the warmth of their bodies and the shared closeness almost too much to bear.

Lando let out a shaky laugh, a soft exhale of relief. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I didn’t want to mess this up. Pressure you.”

“You didn’t,” she whispered, the words as steady as the way her hands gently cradled his. “You haven’t.”

“I love you.” He said again.

She leaned up, brushed their noses together and smiled. “I love you too.”

NEXT CHAPTER

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mixingandmelting · 2 months ago

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Hey! So kinda new here but I LOVED your take on how they would react to their s/o thinking Damian's adorable. Everytime he comes up I get in full protective older sister mode and it is so hard to find fics like that (kinda thinking about writing it myself). But I would really love to see how do you think it would be for Damian to meet his brothers' partners and actually get along with them.

All his life he's been mostly surrounded by terribly traumatized people who seem to be allergic to express their feelings (most of the times at least), it's always been hard for him to actually be a kid. So I think that maybe meeting a person he can trust, is kind of mentally stable and just fun to talk to would actually allow him to let his guard down a bit. Not saying he would act fully like a child bc you know ✨️trauma✨️ but idk I guess it would be interesting to see him feeling safe and not needing to prove himself or put on the whole "I'm not a kid" act

Anyway, english is not my first language so I do apologize if that paragraph is just a big mess and hopefully you could actually understand my rambling, sorry about that too.

A/N: treating it as a prequel to the aforementioned post here!

w/ Dick:

He heard about you. From Oracle, Steph, Tim, even Jon. Yet despite what they told him, he held no expectations for you. Just with Starfire, he saw you as temporary, a flame soon to be put out like his brother’s other exes.

And he made sure to let you, meeting you for the first time in the Manor when the two of you coincidentally are left alone to chill in the living room on your day visiting the place.

“I hope you realize you’re not Richard’s first nor will you be his last.” The teen states. His eyes never leave the page he’s currently on regarding the etiology of cows as he sits on the couch across from you.

“And?”

…And?

He continues to insult you, questioning if you were truly unable to comprehend what he’s trying to get at only to suddenly find himself debating with you about what Batcow’s breed could possibly be.

“You can’t rule out all dairy cattle when certain breeds are also brought to the slaughter house.”

“That’s true but considering her size, she would be leaning towards beef cattle. Also there are certain breeds that have the red and white coat like hers.”

How it happens, he doesn’t know. Especially when his goal was to exert his superiority, doing everything he can to get under your skin to show he’s above you. But you don’t bat an eyelash to anything he says. Rather, you’re wanting to know more about him, responding to him how you would respond to anyone else who is similar age as you.

And it seems like he isn’t the only one to have realized how quickly he’s gotten comfortable with you once you got dragged out for a “girls talk” by the girls. Whatever that is.

“I thought you didn’t want to get along?” Dick asks, entering the room and plopping himself right next to the youngest Bat.

“More like your s/o is either non-human or can manipulate the mind.” Damian scowls and swats at the offending hand that attempts to ruffle his hair.

But even without the knowing smirk the eldest shoots at him, he knows that isn’t the case.

So when you promise you’d bake sweets whenever the two of you meet, he takes you up for it. Now he uses it to his advantage to annoy his older sibling whenever he comes over to visit, enjoying how the eldest son of the family miserably sulks for having your attention taken away from him.

w/ Jason:

It’s either you’re a saint or lacking a brain. That’s what he assumes when the eldest of the family yells to everyone in the Batcave that their second oldest brother, the trouble-maker and black sheep of the family, had finally found himself a significant other.

He most definitely didn’t expect you to be… collected and reserved when he casually breaks into Todd’s unit to demand for assistance (it’s not him needing help), only for his eyes to meet wide and surprise yours.

“Who are you?”

“Uh, I should be the one to say that to you. Not the other way around buddy.”

Shots are fired, both sides fully suspicious of each other with him trying to exert dominance while you manage to counter and land hits of your own in the battle of words. And to the bitter end, he will never admit how he’s thrown off guard and has his pride extremely hurt at the very start, your eyes’ glint and your voice vocalizing recognition as whom, what Todd apparently refers to him as, “the pain in the ass” before he was able to realize you’re the s/o Richard had been talking about (the argument he gives later on after gloating to family how he was the first to actually to meet you was how he didn’t think Todd would be dating someone normal considering all his history with others and hook-ups).

As it should be known when putting two stubborn people in the same room, it’s either go big or go home. That’s why he sits down at the table and drinks the cup of tea you place in front of him. The one that you made in the midst of the verbal argument which “only” you refuse to back down despite there already being a winner. Not because you give him snacks and you’re decent with steeping tea with loose leaf tea.

The argument shifts to gossiping, and soon, Jason arrives while the two of you spill the tea with each other regarding the latest Batfamily’s love-drama.

“Oh, you’re back!”

The way Damian nearly does a double take at the sight of the man genuinely smiling with joy, captivation, and enamor though it only lasts for a second at him noticing who else was sitting at the table with you. He’s glad to say the least he’s able to find someone he could gossip about his family’s dilemma with romance while gleefully able to get at the man for all the times his buttons were pushed.

w/ Tim:

Trust Drake to keep you hidden for this long, successfully in completely masking your presence from the whole family. He didn’t even know you existed, nonetheless Drake having a significant other in general, leaving him to quite literally not have an opinion on you.

The only way he finds out is the person in question kissing who he now knows is you purely by accident where the two of you were in the middle of a date and he was subbing in for patrol. He had the biggest grin when witnessing all this as he realized he just got his hand on his nemesis’ biggest weakness (he does make a face at the public display of affection though). And what better way to cement it by finding out more about you.

As per tradition, the first thing he does is follow you to where you live. Then proceed to break in and wait for you to come home the following week.

“You’re Drake’s significant other?”

“What the fuc-fudge, why is there a kid in my apartment?!”

He gets fed up and presses harder with the interrogation as you won’t stop calling him kid, kiddo, bud, and worst of all: sport. He’ll give it to you how you don’t easily bend to peer-pressure, keeping the playing field even and leveled where you ask him back questions of your own. But he doesn’t fall for your tactics to sidetrack him when offering refreshments and beverages.

What’s your relation with Timothy Jackson Drake, how long have you known him, where did you meet him. The strange part is how you answer them truthfully. Sure you keep to the barebones, which he would ask a follow up if he deems as “important” but now he’s questioning Drake’s tastes in people, wondering if the latter is into those without awareness.

“You do realize you’re giving out information to someone you just met, right?” He crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised. It’s not out of concern for the two of you, he’s merely mocking how weak the relationship seems to be. He tilts his head when you suddenly look sheepish, almost bashful.

“Well…about that…”

It’s starting then things don’t go as planned. One, you had already known about him as the “demon spawn” who had taken the position of Robin. And two, the two of you start bonding over knowing your BF’s most humiliating moments.

It gives Damian the greatest satisfaction to see how his sibling’s facial expression falls into horror as he slams the door open only to see him in the middle of writing notes on the one story of how he attempted to skate through the rain to impress you and fail.

#dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin dc #red robin x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #dc imagine

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eclipse-msoul · 3 months ago

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FAMILY, FAMILY DEAR BATS! 🦇

Synopsis : What happens when a normal reader enters Batfamily. Not by getting orphaned or saved but rather just visiting her uncle for the first time ( it's Bruce ). Now somehow she's become the unofficial therapist of this family and for unknown reasons the only one with enough common sense.Also why is everyone so Overprotective?

Normal reader X Platonic Batfamily

Chapter 1 :-

Your life was pretty uneventful and even, except for a few ups and downs here and there. But still it was as ordinary as it could get, living with a mother that had nursing as a profession and your father being an office worker made it normal but nice.

That was until one day when your mother told you about your uncle’s existence. Her cousin to be exact.Well excuse you for being surprised- YOU didn't even know you had another living relative ??? And they just dropped the bomb so casually – that too at dinner time !!

“ I haven't actually met him yet but the media has framed him to be… quite unique.” Your mother quotes. “ I talked to him, he's a kind man and I think meeting him would do us some good.” Your father sees the way your one way from questioning reality so he gently pats your back and smiles.

“ Don't worry little star, if it makes you feel better she told me two days ago.” He says as your mother lightly giggles and the two make a couple of jokes here and there. “ You two…really..” you groan.

As the dinner slowly comes to an end and your father and mother pick up the dishes and drop them at the sink, your mother glances at your father telling him to speak. “ Ahem-” he fake coughs to get your attention, “ This summer we're planning to send you to live with him.”

You look at him , your eyes wide. “ I beg your finest pardon-WHaT!?” they both nod and you violently shake your head. “ What happened to you two going with me ?”

They share a glance , “ We'll be going together but you'll stay a bit longer and get to know him better. He's family after all."

“ Mom, dad ! You've got to be kidding me.” You try to reason, “ I don't even know him, Heck I didn't even know he existed until a few moments ago and you're telling me to just go and live with him out of nowhere !!”

Your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and you just know you're going to lose. “ Sweetie, my cousin isn't a bad man. Just think of it as meeting a new friend and also I heard Gotham has one of the best medical units in the world~"

You think for a moment before a sigh escapes your lips. You can't defeat them anyway, might as well try. ( Which is totally not because you're excited about checking out the hospitals in Gotham and their advancement. Nope sir, No way)

“ Fine, I'll go. When are we leaving ?” You ask to get up from the table. “ Tomorrow.”

“ WhAt-”

…

Moving forward you are currently standing in front of the totally not terrifying and scary Mansion inside the most amazing and sunny Gotham. Get the sarcasm here ? Yeah, me too.

Your mother dials the number and the bell rings and runs until it's finally picked up. “ Bruce Wanye here.” his voice sounds horse, he was probably asleep you think. It's only 11am right now. You've slept far later.

“ Hello…yeah…it's me...”

The Giant Gate automatically opens and the three of us enter. You take in the scenery and like you thought this place is really nice. It's a billionaire’s garden afterall. Just then a voice comes from inside the Mansion and a butler comes out.

He’s an old British looking man, the way he moves is elegant like those movies you've seen and the way he greets your parents and you is so nerve cracking. “ A pleasure to meet you Miss Rachel and Sir Lucas.” He greets them and then his eyes turn to you.

“ And this is?”

“ Y/n but please..call me Julia.” You reply.

“ Miss Julia then.” He states , “ please come in. Master Bruce has been waiting for your arrival.” He brings you all to the meeting area. As you all take a seat the butler bows yet again and walks away.

“ I'll get Mister Bruce here.” He says walking away.

Your gaze that was previously fidgeting back and forth now has time to look around. This house was so splendid and beautiful and everything was exceptional and well cared for.

Few minutes pass before the door chimes open and walks in on the Man you searched about last night. His posture is elegant like a noble, similar to the butler, yet his eyes are filled with dark circles.Youve got a very good feeling he hardly sleeps.

“ A pleasure to meet you.” He says while shaking hands with your parents and then taking a seat. “ I'm sorry it took me a while. I was busy and hardly had time to rest due to the WE business and projects coming up.”

Your mother nodes. “ It's understandable Bruce. You've got a great burden on you and it can get hard.” You sit next to your father and mother, right in the middle of the giant sofa as they chat.

Bruce while talking turns his attention to you and you see how his eyes briefly soften and there's some sadness in them. But it vanished too quickly for you to think it was there.

“ This is your daughter ?” He asks.

“ Told you long enough to notice.” Your mother dabs a small sarcastic smile. She loves chaos far too much. “ I apologize-”

“ I'm kidding Bruce !” Your mother retorts back. “ This is my little baby girl , Julia Y/n.”

You smile at him awkwardly and he returns the gesture. “ How old are you, Julia ?”

“ I'm sixteen, Mr Wanye.”

“ Oh, you're close to Damien's age-” he remarks , “Please call me Bruce. I'm your uncle, Julia.” He smiles.

“ Alright, uncle Bruce... and uh, who's Damien ?” you ask curious. Your parents definitely haven't mentioned a Damien.

" He's my son. So he'd be your cousin, Julia."

" Oh !" You glare at your parents for not telling you this and they just nervously turn away. They live messing with you far too much. Sigh

" How old is he, uncle Bruce ?"

" He's eighteen." Noticing your curiosity he deemed to telling you more.

" He's currently on a little trip to his elder brother's place. They'll be coming here by tomorrow" he smiled.

Okay that's it. How many cousins did you have ? You were told about one uncle and that's it.

" I see."

And you parents and uncle get back to their conversation. Soon enough the butler returns with some refreshments and introduces himself as Alfred Pennyworth.

Once you've eaten, you excuse yourself to look around the place and the butler whom you now know as Alfred guides you.

The Mansion is bigger than you initially thought and Mr. Alfred is a nice companion to talk to. He tells you about your cousins (surprise suprise, THERE'S MORE THAN SIX) and about how most of them are adopted except Damien who used to call himself the “ blood son” and all their shenanigans.

It's fun to learn about your soon-to-be-new family. All of them seem to sound like interesting individuals and you could use some cousins to play with. Alfred even mentions their hobbies and how they like to prank each other.

Also did you mention how the way to Gotham was the most nerve cracking thing ever. Like this is the city that batman-THE BATMAN couldn't cleanse after almost two and half decades of work. So it's an amazing day nevertheless.

While exploring the Mansion with Alfred your steps stop when a specific picture catches your eyes. You stop and observe it.

Two adults stood along with a small kid that you deemed to be eight to ten years old. The picture drew you in like nothing ever did. It had this air around it that just couldn't explain.

“ Lovely picture, No ?” Alfred’s voice broke your concentration. Your eyes slid to his and you smiled slightly. “ It is. Who are they ? The woman seems to resemble my mom.”

“ That's Miss Martha and Mr Thomas along with young master Bruce. It's a family photo before their death.” Alfred reminisced. “ It's been a tradition for generations and master Bruce has continued it.” He guided you to the latest picture of the family.

It felt forced.

They all felt too far away in this ( like they didn't want to be there ). Even Bruce felt off. Different from the smiling man you had just met. He seemed tired and sad.

“ Those are my cousins ?” You asked, hoping Alfred didn't see the look in your eyes

“ Yes miss Julia.” He told you which was who by pointing and explaining their descriptions. Being a sixteen year old girl with an intense love for history and lore and yaoi, you tried your best to listen.

…

“ It was really nice to meet family. Thanks for having us Bruce.” Your mother hugged Bruce which he returned and then he shaked hands with your father. “ No thank you for coming. I'm kind of ashamed to admit, it gets lonely without my children here..” He chuckled.

" Well you won't get lonely not with our dear Julia here ! She had a tendency to make people break their shell and fit in." You father added.

" She sounds like a lovely child. Does she perhaps have an interest in medicine ? She kept asking about it during our conversations."

Your father and mother shared a small grin. " She does. It's all she can ever dream about."

" That's...good." his eyes flickered to you.

You had fallen asleep an hour ago during dinner and was currently laying on the sofa. Your snores echoed throughout the Mansion. Your parents chuckled and Bruce couldn't help but think it was a pleasant change.

A child that didn't have to fight crime.

One that didn't have to take the burden of the world.

He had already investigated your and your parents backgrounds and confirmed that your mother was indeed his blood cousin. The blood part was maybe due to Damien kind of rubbing off on him.

It was a shock to find out about her existence. Even more to know his mother had a elder sister that passed away few years back and her only child had disappeared as a toddler. That was your mom.

He would never even know of her existence if not for her searching for her parents and finding him. He almost cried when he saw her picture, she resembled his mother in looks except her hair was black.

But you, your looked like the exact replica of his mother. Like a younger version.

He knew your personality was meek yet it had kindness and a spirit all his children had. It was nice chatting with you during dinner. You expressed your interest so well and he knew that his kids would love you. Maybe even Damien.

Talking to a kid like this , carefree and smiling reminded him of what he had lost.It almost felt like his children hadn't left.

That part really hurt.

“ Alfred will take you to the rooms. You can have any you like. Have a pleasant sleep, I'll see you all in the morning.” He said leaving you and your parents in Alfred's care (not before glancing at you one final time.)

Time for his duty.

TBC…

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batboys #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere duke thomas #yandere barbara gordon #yandere stephanie brown #yandere cassandra cain #yandere alfred pennyworth #platonic yandere #cross posted on ao3 #Medical love reader #female reader

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augustjoy · 4 months ago

Text

And I’ll do it again.

Based on the following ask: Please may I request a Hotch x female reader established relationship fic where reader has a daughter that goes to school with Jack (a few grades above him) and reader and hotch get called in to the principal's office because the daughter hit some kids who were bullying Jack about Haley's passing.

Reader's daughter is sitting there all like "and I'll do it again if anyone messes with my brother" and how the family unit reacts to the situation? – UGH I love this! Reader’s daughter shall be called Emmy also Bolded text is the reader and italics are Hotch – just on phone calls.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Angst (tiny bit)/Fluff

Word count: 1251

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, no use of y/n, reader has some sort of office job…but no description given, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, canon typical violence, mention of Jack, reader has a daughter named Emmy who is 12, Jack is 9, blended family, reader and Hotch live together but are not yet married, mention of bullying, mention of a punch to the face, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hello?”

“This is she.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“And you’re saying it was Emmy? Are you sure?”

“This has to be some sort of mix up. Emmy has never been in trouble.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Everything okay?” Sarah, your coworker asked.

“No. Apparently Emmy punched a boy at her school. They need me to come down there, they’re threatening to suspend her.” You scoffed.

“Oh shit. Emmy? There’s no way she’d just punch someone for no reason. It has to be a misunderstanding.” Sarah agreed.

“Exactly. I’ll text you and let you know if I’ll be back in today. My assumption is no, but we’ll see.” With that you grabbed your bag and coat and made your way to the parking garage.

Your phone rang the moment you started your car.

Hello?

Hey sweetheart, I just got a call from the kids school, I’m on my way there now.

Wait, they called you about Emmy too?

Emmy? No, they called me about Jack…I guess some boys were picking on him. What happened with Emmy?

The school called and said she punched some boy. I think I might know the reason now.

Aaron and you arrived at nearly the same time, sharing an exasperated chuckle at how ridiculous this all seemed. Jack and Emmy were both good kids, neither had ever been in any trouble at school before.

Aaron took your hand as you headed up the front steps and into the school’s office. He gave your hand a squeeze of reassurance as you told the receptionist why you were there.

“The principal will be with you in just a moment.”

The two of you stood off to the side waiting to be called back. Aaron was whispering encouraging words to you, noticing the stress taking over your form.

“YOU!” A man shouted as he walked into the school. “Your daughter is the one who assaulted my son!”

“Excuse me?” You gasped.

Aaron moved to step in front of you, fully ready to protect you from the wrath of this man. But you placed your arm out to block him. You had this under control and didn’t need him to save you…not yet anyway.

“Why don’t you calm yourself down until we hear the full story. And I don’t appreciate you loosely throwing around accusations of assault. You’re a lawyer aren’t you…Sean’s dad, if I’m not mistaken.” You looked to Aaron for confirmation. “I thought I recognized you from soccer. You’re the pompous jerk who takes all his phone calls on speaker and disrupts the entire game. I digress, I would think a lawyer would be familiar with the notion “innocent until proven guilty”.” You smirked.

Aaron choked on a laugh, he was constantly in awe of you and how your fearlessly fought for the ones you loved. He figured if Emmy truly had hit someone it was to stick up for someone. Like mother, like daughter.

“The principal will see you now.”

“Okay, so I’ve taken statements from nearly a dozen students, and it is very clear to me what has happened here today.” The principal began. “I think it would be best if your children all shared what happened.”

“That girl punched me in the face!” Sean cried, adjusting the icepack he was clutching to his face.

“And I’ll do it again if you or anyone else messes with my little brother.” Emmy sneered.

“Emmy! We don’t resort to violence.” You scolded.

“Mom, this kid and all his little friends were picking on Jack. If the teacher’s weren’t going to help, then I was.” Emmy tried to justify.

“Is that true Jack, was Sean picking on you?” Aaron questioned.

Jack nodded shyly.

“What happened bud?” Aaron pressed.

Jack shook his head, clearly distressed about the situation.

“They were saying that you aren’t his real mom. They were laughing at him and telling him that you weren’t his mom, you’re his “fake mom” because his real mom is dead!” Emmy exclaimed. “Jack was asking them to leave him alone and the cornered him. That’s when I went over.”

“Jack, honey, is that what happened?” You asked gently.

“Yeah. And when Emmy came to help they said she was my fake sister. I told them that wasn’t true and then Sean said that you and Emmy wouldn’t stick around long…and then I’d be without a mom again.” Jack cried.

“That’s when I punched him.” Emmy admitted.

“Sean! Do you have anything to say for yourself?” His dad questioned.

Sean turned his gaze to the floor and shook his head. Knowing he was caught and surely in trouble. His dad met your gaze and gave you an apologetic nod.

“The other students reported something similar. So, I’d like to discuss punishment. We have zero tolerance for bullying on this campus, especially violence.” The principal stated.

“I understand that Emmy shouldn’t have lashed out however, she was sticking up for her little brother. I don’t think that it is fair that she be suspended. It’ll set a precedent for other kids that there are consequences for sticking up to bullies.” You argued.

“I understand that, but if she receives no punishment, then it gives off the idea that kids can go around punching others and not receive punishment for it.” She retorted.

The conversation went back and forth for quite a while trying to agree on the best solution. Ultimately it was agreed that Emmy and Sean would leave for the remainder of the day. Emmy would have three days of detention, while Sean had a three-day suspension and subsequent meetings with the school counselor to work through whatever it was he was going through.

“We will see you guys at home.” You called over to Aaron.

“Drive safe baby, I love you!” Aaron replied.

“I love you more!”

Emmy and you drove in your car so you could talk to her, while also giving Aaron the chance to talk to Jack privately about the loss of his mother.

“Are you mad?” Emmy whispered.

“Mad? I mean, you know better than to hit people Em.” You glanced over at her.

“I know mom, but you should have seen it. Jack was backed into a corner crying while that jerk talked about his dead mom like it was nothing. Ugh, it just made me so mad!” Emmy raged.

“I know honey. Next time, hands to yourself…got it?” You confirmed.

“Got it. Sorry mom.”

The two of you drove in silence, Emmy resting her head on the window as you mentally processed what had all just happened. You couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed within you at the fact that Emmy had called Jack her little brother, and she stood up for him at school. It gave you a little more confidence in the fact that, if you and Aaron did get married, the kids would be okay.

“And I’ll do it again” You muttered, huffing out a laugh, “that’s pretty badass.”

Emmy looked over at you and smiled, the both of you falling into a fit of laughter as you pulled into the driveway beside Aaron’s car.

“What’s so funny?” Aaron inquired, as Emmy dragged Jack into the house with the promise of ice cream.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy that they see each other as brother and sister.” You beamed, leaning up to kiss Aaron.

“Does this mean you’re ready to talk to them about us getting married?” He pressed.

“Yeah, I think it’s time.”

Taglist: @angellsell

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magics-neptunes-things · 5 months ago

Text

Struck By Love

Hi guys!

I received a lot of really nice comments about my first fic with Steph and some of you wanted a second part of this story, so here it is :)

Please enjoy ♥

And Happy New Year!

TW : Injury

Chapter Before

You probably never have been so happy in your life until now. After Emily and Kat’s wedding, you came back to London to begin your life again. It was nice to see your family back in Australia, but you must admit that you were eager to come back home. Like this you will be able to see Steph again, because the girl went back to her family in Melbourne to finish her trip here.

You didn’t take your ticket the same day as Steph, you were on the plane with Caitlin, Katie and Kyra instead. Hayley is already back in London at this time. Steph is too, but you decided that she won’t come to greet you. As you said it will have her Arsenal teammates, so it was better that way.

In January, you took her to several dates in London, enjoying being able to have quality time with her. You went to restaurants, for some walks with Calvin and you even went ice skating together.

You love having time with her, getting to know her better. You have been very honest with her about the depth and the reality of your feelings for her since the beginning, and she doesn’t seem scared about it. Which is a real relief, even if you don’t expect anything from her at any time.

You are happy to just wait for her and you let her take the lead about what she’s ready to do. The dynamic works great like this and you are secretly very happy to see that you weren’t the only one eager to have moments together. When you don’t propose to see her for two days in a row, Steph asks you if you are free the same day.

You helped her to find a flat and she finally has found something with a garden for Calvin and not far from Arsenal’s training centre. It’s closer to your flat than where she was leaving before, too.

On the fifth date, you had this conversation about knowing what the other wants about your relationship and even if no one asked the other to be her girlfriend formally, you were both clear about the fact that you will be exclusive. It was obvious for you, but Steph needed reassurance, and you were happy to give it to her.

Like if you would be able to look at someone else anyway.

There are times where you can’t see each other for almost four days because of your schedule and the games, and it’s always a little hard when it is happening. It’s the case today.

You left for Manchester on Friday to play Saturday against United and Steph left with Arsenal on Saturday to play against Brighton & Hove Albion on Sunday. You had your day off on Sunday, so you were able to watch Steph’s game, but you haven’t seen her for real since Thursday and it’s way too long for your liking.

It seems that is the case for Steph too, the girl is literally rushing to get her things in her bag and be able to leave the training centre. She almost doesn’t take the time to answer Kyra’s teasing while putting on her shoes and her coat.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Katie arches an eyebrow, looking at Steph running around from her bench.

“I have a thousand things to do at home”

Steph answers casually and her answer seems to catch Beth’s attention. It is too casual to be real in the blonde’s opinion. But she doesn’t have the time to say something because soon Steph isn’t here anymore.

“What is she up to?” Kyra frowns at Beth.

“Dunno. That was weird”

Both look at each other before grinning and saying at the same time.

“We need to find out what is happening.”

********

You were far from this, finally parking your car in Steph’s street. You stopped in a local pizzeria to grab some pizza for the night, in a place you know that Steph likes. You very quickly learned her favourite things to eat or her command at Starbucks for example.

You don’t have to wait very long for Steph to open the door after you knock on it, it was only thirty seconds wait.

“Hello-ooo” you say before being grabbed by the collar of your jacket and taken inside.

Right after you feel Steph’s lips against yours and you put the pizza somewhere to be able to kiss her back easier. Your smile kind of broke the kiss but Steph doesn’t seem to mind. You kiss her cheek and her neck before taking a discreet but big breath of her perfume.

“I missed you” she whispers, and you hug her harder against you.

“Missed you too”

You still can’t believe that this situation is really happening. You never thought that you will be able to have this kind of relationship with Steph one day. You are scared to lose it now to be honest, but you try to concentrate on the present.

Steph finally drags you to her living room, where you just cuddle while eating your pizzas and looking at a film. Steph already took Calvin for his walk today and he’s peacefully asleep on his dog bed in the corner of the living room.

You aren’t really looking at the movie to be honest. You asked her a lot of questions to know how her four days really went. You wrote her messages, and you had her on the phone twice, but with her teammates around, it’s never really easy.

You are still secret for now, wanting to have this secret only between you two. You like it that way, finding Steph at the end of the day and being in your little bubble of love.

“That plaid is the best purchase I have ever made” Steph comments at some point.

You laugh while looking at the big and fluffy plaid who is big enough to easily cover both of you. It’s comfy and hot too. And it has the advantage of having Steph’s smell.

“I like it too” you smile, snuggling against her.

The pizza boxes are abandoned on the table with some pizza crusts inside. Like every time you command at this place, it was a great pizza. You haven’t eaten everything though, so if you are hungry during the night you will have something to eat.

“How are your hands still so cold?”

You smirk when Steph wiggle to get away from you, passing now both of your hands under her shirt.

“Babe stop” she giggles.

But you don’t stop, amused by her reaction. When your hands are hot enough against her skin, you kiss her, happily taking advantage of your position. She kisses you back and you kind of lose any notion of anything when she passes her arms around your neck to take you against her.

You are still kissing several minutes after, when Steph’s door is opened by a non-really discreet Kyra. But between the noise of the TV and what you are doing, it would be almost impossible to hear anything. Thank god, no one decided to burgle Steph’s house tonight.

Steph is now lying on you, still under the plaid, but during your making out session your hands never left her body. You have now one of them on her bum, while the other is in her hair. Steph’s hands are softly scratching your abs, a gesture that makes you half-crazy.

“Oh my god what the hell is happening here?!”

Kyra’s scream makes both of you jump and Steph avoids falling off the couch only thanks to your excellent reflexes. Seeing your reactions, Calvin jumps from his bed to start to bark at Kyra.

“No one ever taught you the use of a door?” Steph asks after having calmed Calvin.

“You weren’t answering! And I used the key you gave me” Kyra answers, pointing an accusing finger at Steph.

Steph groans and you silently nod somewhere in your head to take this key away from Kyra as soon as possible.

“What is happening between you two? I thought you were straight!” Kyra asks Steph, frowning at you.

You look at each other, not really knowing what to answer. You are both standing now in front of the couch where you were very intimate several seconds ago.

“Being engaged to a man doesn’t make me straight. And it’s none of your business.” Steph rolls her eyes at her.

The big sister versus little sister energy makes you smile, but you don’t show it too much, letting cowardly Steph deal with her pest.

“I just saw you with your tongue in her mouth, it’s totally my business now”

Little sister energy.

When you see that Steph is looking at you for some help, you don’t hesitate to stand at her high though, putting a hand on her back. You feel the nerves getting out of her body a little bit under your touch.

“Was it why you were in such a hurry earlier?” Kyra asks again, softer this time.

“Yes” Steph sighs “We have this… things going on since December and even if I haven’t talked about it to anyone it makes me really happy. I just wanted to keep it for us for now”

Steph throws a quick look at you when she uses the word “things”, and you answer her with a soft smile. Like you said before, you never put a real label on your relationship.

“Are you serious about it?”

It’s a little passive-aggressive now and the question is directed towards you. You arch an eyebrow, not really used to have to face an angry Kyra with arms crossed on her chest.

“I am” you answer calmly.

“Good. Because I let an asshole coming in her life once, I won’t let another one doing the same thing”

“God Kyra, shut up”

A pillow flows right in Kyra’s face. Steph seems to be really uncomfortable about Kyra’s statement, but you find it cute instead. And you are glad to see that Steph has friends like Kyra in her life.

“Will I have shared custody?” you joke to Steph, looking in Kyra’s direction.

“She’s Mini’s kid, not mine”

Later that evening, after having kicked Kyra out and making her swear not to say anything to anyone, you find yourself with Steph in her bed. You are scrolling on your phone and texting some members of your family in Australia while Steph is lying on your chest.

You are playing with her hair too. You are very comfortable like this and you could stay here until the end of the world. Steph seems lost in her thoughts, unless she’s falling asleep. But you don’t interrupt her, knowing that she will talk to you if she needs to share anything.

It’s only when she turns her head to look at you that you put your phone on the bed, your other hand still in her hair.

“Is everything alright?” you ask softly.

She hums for only an answer, before going up on your body to put her head on your shoulder and not on your chest. You let her, passing your hand around her waist and kissing her head.

“I missed you”

Like this afternoon you feel your heart miss a beat and you love the warm feeling her words provide in you.

“I missed you too Stephy” you smile at her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing really, just that I hope Kyra will know how to shut her mouth”

“I’m sure she will”

You have a good feeling about it, Kyra might be a little pest when she wants it, but she’s very protective about the people she loves. And you know that even if you aren’t close to her like Steph or Mini, she loves Steph. And she will do what is needed for Steph’s good.

You kiss Steph’s hair again and when she looks up you put a tender kiss on her lips. You both are pretty tired after your weekend so you quickly both fall asleep after that.

********

In late February, you are back with the Matildas for the Shebelieves Cup. You made the journey with Steph of course, but also Kyra, Caitlin, Hayley and all the girls playing in England. You are a little sad to be seated next to Charli and not Steph, who is next to Mini.

You would probably have a better sleep if you were able to put your head on Steph’s shoulder, but the travel passed anyway. You are not with Steph either in your hotel rooms, this time sharing the room with Alanna. Steph is almost on the other side of the floor every time which practically prevents you from sneaking into her room at some point.

So you are a little bit moody this morning at breakfast, between the jet lag and the fact that you haven’t slept very well because Alanna is snoring like a damn combine harvester.

You are under your hood while eating your mountain of cereals alone, until Mini, Harper and Kyra come to sit with you.

“Hello sunshine. Mind if we sit here?” Kyra smirks.

You groan for any answer, making the girl giggle. You then put your eyes on Harper, who seems sulking too.

“Are you grumpy too because they don’t have any Froot Loops and only those disgusting Kellog’s?” Harper asks you, eyebrows frowned.

“Sure am Buddy” you answer. “And because no one told me that I will be sleeping with a tractor”

“Sorry, I thought that Lani’s snores were known by anyone” Caitlin says from the table next to yours.

Your other teammates are coming to have breakfast little by little around you now.

“What is known by anyone?” Steph asks casually, sitting in front of Caitlin.

Your apparition makes a funny thing in your stomach and you wonder quickly until when those butterflies will stay.

“That Y/N slept with Lani” Harper answers with all her innocence, making you choke on your cereal, Steph spilling her coffee and Kyra dying laughing. “But Lani did it like a tractor”

“Harper, you can’t phrase things like that” a laughing Mini intervenes.

“God” you mumble, holding your forehead.

You throw a tentative glance towards Steph, above Kyra’s head who is always laughing like crazy. She receives a slap behind her head by Caitlin, distracting everyone’s attention while you and Steph exchange a glance.

She doesn’t seem disturbed by what just happened, but on the other hand you never slept with Alanna. She even has an amused smile on her face.

That moment is quickly known by all the team of course, and it makes Alanna laugh too. You have to admit that it’s pretty funny and now that you know that Steph hasn’t taken anything badly, it’s easier to laugh about it.

You are more concentrated on not looking at Steph all day, though. Not for the same reasons as before. Before it was not to be caught by Steph herself. Now it’s to avoid being discovered by someone. You find it even harder now though, because you have the right to do it.

You don’t know if Steph’s smile will stay on her face all day, however, because all the team seems to take the joke really by heart. You received some comments about it all day, from your teammates but from people on the staff too. It even went viral on social media.

Alanna doesn’t seem to mind though, given the way she takes you by your shoulders to drag you back into your room before dinner.

“Come on Casanova, show me again some moves you got”

You roll your eyes but follow her anyway, taken away from any idea of sneaking out somewhere in the city with Steph. You haven’t been able to talk to her all day long and she doesn’t know you wanted to do that, but you still miss that plan.

Of course, when you are in the room you share with Alanna, she goes to her bed while you do the same. On yours. If it needs to be said, you never had any interest in the blonde, even if you like her very much. As a friend.

You always have a crossword book with you and that is with what you were occupying yourself when you feel your phone vibrating on your nightstand, where you put it to charge.

From Pudding 💞 Having fun?

You roll your eyes and disconnect your phone from the cable of your charging. You then sit cross-legged on your bed, your book forgotten.

From You No 🥺 I miss you What are you doing?

From Pudding 💞 Nothing much. Just watching Kyra and Charli misbehave with Harper

From You If I manage to escape my room, would you like to go for a walk? We have time to do it until dinner

From Pudding 💞 I’d love to 😌

You smile and you lurk towards Alanna to know what excuse you could use to get out of the room without being suspect.

“I’m going to take something to drink, do you want something?”

“Mh? No, thanks” Alanna mumbles back without looking at you.

From You I’m coming. Find me in front of the hotel?

You don’t wait for Steph’s answer before going up, putting your shoes and your hoodie back and going out of the room. You don’t see anyone when you reach the entrance of the hotel, or at least anyone from the Australian team.

Steph is already waiting for you, hidden in the corner of the building and you hurry your path to meet her.

Your first move is to go for a hug, but Steph stops you with a hand on your stomach.

“Someone still can see us here” she explains to you with a soft smile.

You nod and follow her steps, putting your hands in the pocket of your hoodie instead. Being next to her like this without being able to touch her is torturous for you. And you are together for only two months, you wonder how a couple can hide their relationship for years.

“How are you?” you ask her after several meters.

“Fine. It’s strange to be with you all day without being able to really be with you, you know?”

“Yeah. I feel the same”

You bite your lip softly, wondering how to approach the teasing you have to endure all day. You don’t know how she feels about it and you don’t want to assume anything. But it’s finally Steph who talks again first.

“But Kyra made me realise that not talking to you at all might be suspect for the others too. I mean we were friends before and we were quite close to each other, you know?”

You nod slowly at that. It was true, you went for example in the vineyard with her before your first kiss at Emily’s wedding.

“She’s right” you smile, relieved to realise that you are finally authorized to spend some time with her. “It’s weird that this advice comes from Kyra though”

Steph smirks and, now that you are away from the hotel, grabs your arm with hers. You let her do it, quickly kissing her temple.

“She might have teased me a little bit” Steph admits after some time.

“About us?”

“Yes, and that rumour about you and Alanna. And the fact that you seemed moody all morning too”

“I was, I really haven’t slept enough” you shrug before frowning. “But I’m sorry about the teasing”

“It’s okay” Steph smiles at you. “I know it’s not the truth”

You have to admit that Steph is way more chill than you are. Or maybe less jealous? Maybe both, because you totally remember about you being jealous when she was dancing and laughing with Mackenzie at Emily’s wedding for example.

You stay silent, a little bit ashamed about it. But your silence seems to tease Steph’s curiosity.

“It’s not true, right?”

“Oh, yes. Of course it isn’t” you hasten to confirm.

You free your arm to pass it around Steph’s waist, holding her against you. You were still walking, a little bit randomly to be honest. You haven’t really discovered the horizons; you had to travel a lot in the USA for the Cup, and you would rather be peacefully in your room than walking around.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

You turn your head towards the Café Steph is looking at and nod. You’re not a big fan of coffee to be honest, but you know that Steph is. You follow her inside, letting her pass her command first before asking for a tea yourself.

“How do you feel about tomorrow?” you ask the other Aussie when you are seated.

“Concentrated. We need to be if you want to win”

“I wasn’t asking my Captain” you smirk above your tea. “I was asking you”

Just like she does sometimes, she looks at you with a way softer look than usual, and a cute smile, and it makes you melt. So much that you have to be really concentrated to follow the next part of the conversation.

The next day, you are playing against Colombia and when you enter the stadium, you feel pretty confident. Not because you are sure that you will win, but because you know that the team will do as much as possible to win the game. You are starting, positioned just behind Caitlin Foord in the middle of the pitch. It makes you stand in the middle of the players but you still manage to have a good view of your whatever Steph is.

You managed to go back to the hotel without no one asking you any questions yesterday, Alanna easily believing your story about being asked by Kyra for a random Uno game.

The first part of the game went great, to be honest. Colombia is a tough opponent, but you are winning 3-1, thanks to two goals from Caitlin and a really well managed free kick by Steph. You even managed to have an assist for one of the goals.

Around the seventy-minute Steph got subbed, just like Caitlin for Michelle Heyman. Your teammate from Tottenham, Hayley, is still on the pitch, just like Kyra.

In the 76 minutes, Colombia managed to score their second goal making 3-2 and you knew from that moment that they will push as much as possible to score a third one. Mackenzie is able to make some great stops and at the 82 Hayley almost scores, the ball hitting the corner of the post before going right in the stands.

At the 84, Mackenzie stops a ball from a corner and throws it quickly in the front, where you are waiting with Michelle. The blonde catches the ball and you follow her, facing two Colombians. You easily catch the pass Michelle offers you and run towards the goalkeeper, not expecting a single second a tackle coming from behind.

That is what happens though, your ankle painfully trapped between two legs, making you fall on the ground. It hurts and between the pain and how hard you fall on the ground, you have trouble breathing completely again.

You don’t hear the chaos above you, Ellie and Mini screaming at your opponent, the red card she takes or even the referee trying to calm everyone down. You just try to breathe, focusing your attention on your throbbing ankle and the design of Kyra’s boots, protectively crouch somewhere near your head.

“Hey it’s okay, you're okay” she says to you.

“She’s bleeding, we have to take her shoe and sock off”

You don’t recognize which one of the paramedics is talking, but you groan in protest when they grab your ankle. You hear the referee asking them to take you outside the pitch and some of your teammates protesting something, but you don’t really care. You didn’t have to deal with a lot of injuries in your life, but this one really hurts. It scares you, to be honest.

You hear the applause of the crowd when you are taken inside the stadium on the stretcher, but you don’t really react, hiding your face in both of your arms.

It’s way quieter when you are inside the infirmary, where a nurse gives you something for the pain. You thank her quietly, drinking the fresh water she gives you soon after with appreciation.

“We have to put some stitches on before going to hospital for a scan. Given how she takes you down, you might have something broken”

“Great” you sigh, looking at the ceiling.

Your mind goes to Steph. You would like to have her with you, but she’s the captain and has other duties. You are only friends for the others and if one of them should come with you, it would be more logical for Hayley to come with you.

But you are happily surprised to see that it’s in fact Steph who comes inside the room almost twenty minutes later, while you are still waiting for the stitches. She looks worried, but you feel your body relax as soon as she’s here.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, frowning.

“Better. The nurse gave me some morphine. But I have to go to the hospital to make a scan”

She sighs and strokes your cheek tenderly, before the door of the room opens again, making her retract her hand like if your cheek was on fire.

You look at the nurse when she comes inside, followed by a man you haven’t seen before.

“Y/N if you are ready, we are too”

She nods towards the needles and compresses in the trail she just put on a table next to you, and you can’t help but make a grimace. You are totally not ready for it. You hate needles.

“It’s going to be okay” she says, putting her hand on your arm in a comforting gesture. “Maybe it’s better if you leave?”

She turns towards Steph who is still standing in the room and you put your eyes on her too, just in time to see her frowning gaze looking at the nurse’s gesture.

“Oh. Uh, sure. I just wanted to give Y/N her things”

She puts the bag she was holding until now on a chair and turns her heels to leave, but you don’t want her to. So, you call her, almost shyly.

“Can you stay with me and maybe hold my hand? Please?”

“Of course”

She doesn’t hesitate a single second before coming back near you, sitting on a second chair and grabbing your hand.

“Thanks” you breathe. “I hate needles”

“I didn’t know”

She tilts her head curiously towards you, and you shrug. It’s not really something you talk about during your first dates usually, until you are dating a nurse maybe. You look at the doctor who is preparing his things, totally ignoring you three. You are nervous, so much that Steph can feel the tension in your body.

“Look at me. Just concentrate yourself on me”

You take a deep breath and oblige, your eyes easily falling on her. She hasn’t taken a shower after the game; she’s still wearing her kit under her jacket. She still has her bun, and she looks effortlessly pretty, even after a game like this. If you were alone, you would have said to her how beautiful she is.

It seems that she understands really easily what you are thinking about though, because you see her cheeks becoming a little more red. It makes you smile and want to kiss her. It’s frustrating, but at least like this you kind of forget what is happening near your ankle.

“Finish” the doctor says before standing up. “Ellen here will come with you to the hospital, so you have a real follow-up. And I think one of the members of the Australian team will come too”

You don’t see Steph frowning at that. You nod looking at the doctor leaving the room and the nurse following to get everything needed.

“I’ll go take a shower and I’ll come to the hospital as soon as possible, okay?” Steph says softly.

You nod again and sigh, letting your head go against the pillow of the bed. You watch Steph when she stands to kiss you, making you smile.

“Thank you for coming”

“Of course” she smiles and kisses you one more time.

She gets up just in time, the nurse coming back with all she needs. She makes sure that you have everything you need before taking you to the ambulance for the hospital. You are already on crutches, and you had hoped not to have to take the ambulance, but it seems like it’s how things are done here.

A little bit dramatic in your opinion.

Ellen and Kate, your team nurse, talked your ears off during the journey to the hospital and are still doing it when you arrive in your assigned room. The team asked for one for you to be able to take a shower and you are really grateful for it.

“Do you need help?” Ellen asks.

“Uh. No, thank you” you mumble, feeling your cheeks getting a little red.

“Look at you, Casanova” Kate giggles. “Alanna wasn’t enough, you need someone else already?”

“Oh god” you sigh.

“Is Alanna your girlfriend?”

“No” you roll your eyes.

You let Kate explain the story behind it, ignoring the different laughs coming from it while texting your parents and the Matildas’ WhatsApp group. Then you write to Steph too.

From You Are you soon here? The Nurse proposed her help for my shower

From Pudding 💞 That is not funny

You don’t have any other answer from her, and you sigh softly before putting your phone on your bed. Time to shower. You take the fresh underwear that Steph packs you with a fresh shirt and shorts too. You are glad to avoid the shirt from the hospital though.

“If Alanna isn’t your girlfriend, you still can take my help” Ellen adds, apparently more seriously.

You hesitate a little about what to answer at that. She seems serious about her help, but still teasing-flirting a little bit too.

“I still have a girlfriend” you finally answer.

You don’t know if Steph will be happy with that, like you said you never put a label on your relationship. But at least Ellen will understand that you are not interested.

“Do you?” Kate asks you with a big surprise.

“Yes” you smirk. “But it’s very fresh and you are under professional secrecy so you can’t say anything to anyone”

“You have a girlfriend, and you make jokes about sleeping with someone else?” Ellen asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I… I’m not the one who started it” you try to defend yourself.

“She’s right” Kate has your back “The situation has somewhat escaped her”

Ellen hums, apparently not totally convinced about your answers, but you decide not to give too much importance. First because you have to take this shower before they come to take you for the scan. And second because you will probably not see her again and that you don’t really care about what she might think.

After the shower, you went for your scan with Kate, who walks you happily around the hospital in a wheelchair.

And when you are back in your room, you are happy to see Kyra and Steph waiting for you, sitting next to Ellen. Their hair are still wet from their shower.

“How are you feeling?” Steph asks.

“I’m okay” you shrug, passing from the wheelchair to the bed. “How was the end of the game?”

You already asked this to Kate when you left for the hospital, but you want to have your teammates’ opinion. The good news is that Australia won, even if it was a close one.

“I have to go” Ellen says after Kyra’s explanation. “Will you be okay there?”

“Yeah thanks” you smile politely at her.

“It was nice meeting you” Ellen squeezes your arm affectionately.

Your eyes cross Steph’s when she leaves the room, before looking at Kyra who seems to have the time of her life.

“Do you think I can eat something?” you ask Kate.

“Sure, I’ll go to the cafeteria to grab you a sandwich or something. Do you want something else?”

You shake your head and she gets up, imitated by Kyra who claims to be hungry too. You don’t know if it’s true or if she wants to leave you alone with Steph, but you are happy to be alone with her a little bit.

What you said earlier when it was only you with Kate and Ellen comes back in your mind and you wriggle a little bit on your bed.

“Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not weird” you mumble without looking at her.

“Don’t you dare tell me she came to help you under the shower” she says sternly.

You wince at her tone but shakes your head, searching for her gaze this time. If you are weird, she seems tense. Like very tense. You don’t want to upset her, but it seems more important for you to tell the truth.

Steph had crossed her arms on her chest, still seated in the chair in front of your bed.

“It’s not that” you say, nervously passing your hand in your hair. “But I might said that I have a girlfriend to her”

Steph looks at you blankly for several seconds, so much that you start to think that she’s waiting for you to add something.

“How is that a problem?” Steph asks.

“Kate was here too”

“And… That’s all? You seem so uneasy because you told a girl who was hitting on you that you already have someone?”

She doesn’t seem annoyed anymore; you almost have the impression that she’s repressing a smile. And you don’t really understand what the hell is happening.

“We agreed to keep it hidden for several times and we never discussed about being girlfriend” you frown.

Steph is totally smiling now, finally leaving her chair to come sit in front of you on your bed. She was upset and now she seems… softened?

“I am glad that you put a stop to her flirting with that information” Steph grabs your hand while talking “And I know none of us asked the other officially, but I would love to make it a little bit more official. Not by saying it to everyone, but at least by putting a real word on our relationship.”

“So… If I, hypothetically, ask you to be my girlfriend, would you say yes?”

“Hypothetically, yes” she smirks

And she laughs when she sees you rolling your eyes. You are not mad at her for her teasing though, how could you when her laugh is the most beautiful thing ever? You decide to try one more time, a little bit more seriously this time.

“Stephanie-Elise Catley, would you please be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to”

You have time to see her smile before she leans in your direction, and you finish the gesture to kiss her.

Steph Catley is your girlfriend.

You don’t know what you did to be so lucky, but the happiness you feel right now makes you pass your arms around her waist, and you take her with you when you let yourself fall on the bed.

She lets out a high short scream when you make her fall on you, but her lips are soon very occupied again.

Both of you are able to hear when the door of the room is open though and you turn your head, waiting to be facing Kyra. But it’s actually Kate, holding your scan in one hand and your sandwich in the other.

“Oh… New girlfriend. I see”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #steph catley x reader #steph catley #steph catley imagine

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hexhomos · 5 months ago

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Kiss on the check accepted! :3c

And your response reminded me of a detail I always pick up on rewatches but hadn't fully untangled yet—in the flashback of her childhood, Mel steps into that broken throne room with blood still drying on it. At Ambessa's prompting, Mel goes right into talking about how to renovate the place. "Paint the walls gold"...like gilding over the horrors of conquest that got that power in the first place.

And when she describes the regent they should have, she finishes with, "she should be pliant, so we can mold her." That IS what she was doing with Jayce, slowly, over a decade, and then quickly through Acts 2 and 3.

And then in the scene, after Mel finishes describing a "pliant" regent who can be molded, her mother suggests MEL could be that regent. Young Mel is excited at the idea, entirely missing the implication that she too would be an asset of her mother's reign.

That's why she takes off her Medarda ring right before casting her vote for Zaun's independence. She's finally realized she's just as subject to her mother's games as anyone else and Chooses to stop working in the interests of her family's power.

And augh, I wish her s2 plotline hadn't taken her out of Piltover so we could have seen more of the spycraft against Ambessa she was up to in Arc 1. I can't help but think of how much stronger her confrontation with Ambessa would have been if we had a full season of "daughter works against mother" instead of just a few scenes and a lot of getting kidnapped. More ambiguity with Leblanc would've been great too instead of her killing Elora to say hello.

[continued from here]

EXACTLY the way they shafted the politics in s2 (specifically so they wouldn't need to have hard conversations) genuinely had a negative impact in the ENTIRE story. The systematic horrors were downplayed and plotlines were dropped with very short acknowledgements - this is why we get people complaining about the jayce/mel breakup scene "coming out of nowhere" despite the fact that it made perfect sense for these characters!!!!!! It was just too short and they changed the subject too quickly, so we don't have TIME to think about the economic issues again.

It's so clear to me that jayce, viktor, ekko, mel (each representing a diff political facet. curious!) etc were carefully removed from the actual real world so we never have to analyze or push back against the notion that cait/ambessa are doing a hostile military coup and HAVE gotten people killed, imprisoned, and tortured en masse. So they can neatly resolve all of the plot with an avengers-style montage and never talk about the stuff with real world implications. There is no war in piltover and zaun. Just a cartoony last second villain. We just need to unite to protect... piltover...? And now viktor is randomly forgetting his proud zaunite commie stance and teaming up with the imperial invaders that were plaguing the earth moments ago........? We never talk about the class inequality ever again? Forget everything. Nothing ever matters.

The end result was that we spent far less time with these characters and they ended up being pretty underdeveloped. I know this happened for marketing reasons, its so incredibly clear aspects of the story were dumbed down so they could sell more ingame skins or pitch new champions, and that was seen as more valuable and desirable for the company than politicking - because at heart riot don't care about the political stuff anyway. But it still makes me throw my hands up in the air. such an asspull

In a reality where we had enough time and investment to touch on this, Mel could have actually gotten to push back against ambessa/cait and directly deal with the consequences of her actions. SEVIKA could have gotten a proper payoff for her underground character arc, instead of vanishing halfway through and then randomly accepting a diversity hire seat on the council (insanity. that was insanity) Ekko and the firelights would have obviously played a key role in rallying people against ambessa and helping Jinx recover from her displacement crisis (sorry isha, but even you could have been better used as part of the firelights dilemma) Jayce's mounting disillusionment with piltover and his loyalty to Viktor would be much better explored if they were still in conversation about the cities, the world they wanted to help, and the chaotic blurry lines of personhood/citizenship that decide who is an 'acceptable' target under the fist of the state. Vi could have built a self-reliant identity for herself, something better to fight for that isnt 'being a cop'. This show could've been awesome. I wish it existed

#arcane #meta tag #mel medarda #ambessa medarda #jayce talis #viktor arcane #ekko arcane #jinx arcane #sevika arcane #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #jayvik #hexposts #league of legends #jayce league of legends #jayce lol

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desireangel · 8 months ago

Text

Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!

Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.

So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake

But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly.

And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it.

Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood.

A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?

Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth.

Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly.

Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond.

It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord.

You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day.

All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do.

For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea.

Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening.

Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not.

He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips.

You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”

“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”

All you responded with was a stare.

Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”

“We have fixed nothing.”

“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”

“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup.

“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”

You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”

Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one.

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here.

Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy.

A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.

It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship.

Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar.

Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”

You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.

“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”

Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye.

It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.

Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you.

“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”

It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?

For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts.

A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe.

There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond’s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation.

It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze.

His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.”

There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now.

It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this.

What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him.

You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him?

That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.

Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him.

It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come.

Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.

It made you feel sick.

Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent.

Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive.

You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh.

The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her.

Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you.

A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan.

He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different.

The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires.

Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled.

There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.

All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment.

Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?

It was terrifying to consider.

Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of.

With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“

You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him.

She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there.

Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to.

But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was.

You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair.

There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.

“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”

He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.

You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating.

Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved.

The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer.

Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do.

Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face.

Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before.

Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning.

Vulnerable, gentle, tormented.

A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence.

Oh, seven hells.

There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her.

“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”

You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”

“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”

“Alys? Is that her name?”

“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice.

Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight.

Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face.

“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”

“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”

Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”

“A paramour?”

“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.”

You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut.

“Did he love her? Could he still?”

Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”

All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly.

Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”

“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”

Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”

If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear.

You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her.

As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night.

He trusted her.

Alys Rivers.

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Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen

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hipstergecko · 11 months ago

Text

Waking Up.

Hey so remember that DPxDC prompt I wrote awhile back? I've been writing it! Here's a brand new chunk.

Ghost in a Box: Danny experiences extreme sensory deprivation after getting trapped in a coffin like box his parents invented. His box is opened on the JL watchtower after being found in an underground bunker. Humans can't do sensory deprivation for too long. Apparently neither can Danny.

Original Ghost in a Box prompt here.

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Black bat was waiting. She was quite good at waiting. Sometimes on a mission you had to be patient. Still and silent. Waiting.

The boy that had come out of the box had been in the intensive care unit for days. He had been dehydrated and was terribly emaciated. He had been starving. How long had he been in the box?

They couldn’t ask him until he woke up. So she had been waiting.

Cass sighed and walked silently down the hall to the ICU. After they had gotten the boy into the medical wing, she’d gotten the whole “that was incredibly dangerous” spiel from her dad Batman. He was proud of her though. She could tell. It spoke through the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. The softness of his hands. Hopefully that softness would be given to the boy from the box.

There had been multiple debriefs and meetings to discuss how to proceed with the boy. The majority of heroes were loath to continue opening boxes. What if they were full of creatures much like the boy? Capable of so much damage and danger. They didn’t even know what he was.

The documents they had uncovered called the boy a ghost. But after checking his vital signs, they found he had a pulse. He had a heart, breath, and blood. He was human.

But he was in the box. So he wasn’t. The members of Justice league dark had been contacted and were due to arrive any day now. They had been on assignment somewhere else. Cass hadn’t bothered to find out where they’d been.

None of that mattered anyway.

What had mattered, truly, was that the boy from the box was afraid. Afraid and unable to communicate. And Cass understood him. He was terrified and desperate. And Cass saw him beyond the horrors.

He was a child and he needed help.

So he was hers now. No matter what anyone else said. She reached out to him first and he was her new brother/son/child. Bruce would have to deal with it.

She had stayed on the watchtower, with Bruce’s blessing, since the box had been opened. She barely left the boy’s side much to Bruce’s chagrin. He was not pleased with the possibility of her being in danger. But Tim had pointed out that she was plenty dangerous herself.

She loved her brothers.

She stayed on the watchtower all the time now. Staying with the boy and only leaving the observation room to shower and eat on her own. The doctors had insisted, gently, that she should take some time to herself after those first few days. So she does. Today she took a hot shower and attended a few meetings to keep up as to what they planned to do with her new brother. She also got to spend some time with Spoiler who had just so happened to be on the watchtower that day (she sent a thank you message to Tim over the family chat).

She looked through the observational window, a frown hidden behind her mask. The boy was hooked up to various machines to monitor his vitals. His eyes were still covered and the headphones were still firmly on his head. He looked so small and frail against the bed linens. There wasn’t much more they could do until the JLD members arrived.

The doctors inside the room were gently cleaning the boy. Running a warm soft wipe down his arms and legs, checking his vital signs, laying a warm blanket over him for comfort. She watched impassively at first, then with intense interest as some of the monitors showed brain activity.

Signs of waking. Her new brother was waking up.

She was the first one in the room when the boy jerked awake with a gasp.

---------

Consciousness.

Discomfort.

Gravity.

The air tastes funny. His arm itches. His legs feel heavy.

Weird.

Danny floated on the edge of wakefulness. Or at least what he thought was consciousness. It was hard to tell anymore. Everything was a cycle of dreaming and waking, or was it dreaming and dreaming? It was hard to find reality. Nothing changed except the hallucinations his mind conjured. And even his mind had started to get things wrong.

He couldn’t trust his memories anymore. He couldn’t remember what life was like. If he saw his mother in the box with him, he couldn’t make out the details of her face. Or His father’s laugh. Or his sister’s hair. Everything was fuzzy. Distant. Faded from his memories.

Did he even have a family? Was that something he made up?

He couldn’t remember.

How long had he been in here? He’d stopped counting the days when his eyes ceased to glow. Recycled ectoplasm was good at sustaining a ghost, but not good at feeding a ghost. And him being only a few years dead, he was still developing powers. Well he would be if he wasn’t essentially being purposefully stunted in this stupid box.

What a stupid box. Can’t even sit up in it. It was more like a coffin than a box. It would figure that he finally got put in a coffin. Specially since he died all the way but not quite once already. How lame. Someone somewhere was probably laughing about this.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah. His eyes stopped glowing. Made it harder to see what was real. He couldn’t see the shadows of his real hands and the lack of them on the images his mind conjured. It was hard to tell the difference. If he could even tell the difference anymore.

He probably couldn’t tell at all anymore really.

He floated beyond consciousness for a moment more, resisting the press upon his mind to wake. Better to sleep. After all, there wasn’t anyone coming to get him. The whispers were silent when he wasn’t in his mind. The voices stopped. The hands didn’t pull at his mouth and eyes. It was the only chance at peace he got.

Something touched him.

Weird.

Wait…

Something, no, someone was touching him. Moving his itchy arm. He felt hands on his legs, moving them under the heaviness.

The hands were touching him.

Danny jolted to full consciousness with a gasp. He violently jerked away from the hands and scrambled back. They’d never moved him before! They’d only tried to! He had always fought them off! They were just hallucinations!! His mind only thought he was being touched!! What happened?! How?! WHY?!

His breath came in larger gasps of air as he spiraled into panic. The hands, glowing and green, decayed and skeletal reached out of the darkness. Whispered words filled his ears, static and chiming all at once. He flailed out at them frantically, touching nothing. He whimpered. They weren’t real they weren’t real they weren’t real.

One of the hands grabbed his arm.

He cried out at the contact. The weak and raspy sound pulling painfully from this throat as he lashed out at the hand and fell back. The ectoplasm felt firm and plush beneath him.

Wait, was that really ectoplasm? Was this real?

Somehow in his retreat, he reached an edge. He slipped.

He fell.

He hit a hard surface and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. He choked on the strange air and grasped blindly around himself. There was no ectoplasm, nothing swishing around him as he moved. He struggled to breathe and reached frantically out to his sides.

There were no walls.

No walls, no ceiling, no swishing stale ectoplasm.

What…

He… he wasn’t in the box.

This couldn’t be real.

He scrambled back along what he felt was the floor until he hit something hard. A wall? He didn’t care. This wasn’t real, but it felt real enough to use as an anchor, so at the wall he stayed.

Danny grasped at his arms. Nails dug into muscle, piercing the skin and drawing ectoplasm. He felt the pain and it grounded him. He was real. He was still real. His breathing was still harsh, the panic still real. The hands still reaching for him weren’t real. The floor and wall weren’t real. He was just trapped in another hallucination.

He just needed to calm down and wait until he came out of it naturally or hurt himself into reality. Either way he would still be in the box.

Abandoned in the box.

He dragged his nails down his arms, leaving behind gashes that wept. He wasn’t concerned though. His ghost form would heal fast enough that it wouldn’t make a difference. All he needed was to stop seeing things that weren’t real. He’d shed enough tears over illusions of his friends and family. Been through enough terrors and memories to doubt his mind. He knew he was in the box. Once he found the box again he could try to go back to sleep.

He’d lost the will to do anything more what felt like a lifetime ago. All he had left to his obsession was protection. Self protection. Survival. Keep his human half alive. By staying a ghost and surviving the horrors of his mind.

It was all he had left.

He ran his hands up his arms to start tearing at his skin again and found… wetness? He hadn’t healed yet? He lifted a hand to his face and licked the wetness on his fingers.

Copper tang. The faintest taste of ectoplasm.

It tasted like… blood?

Danny’s heart stopped in his chest. Wrong. His heart stuttered in his chest and he scrabbled at his neck. He fingers found his pulse.

Oh no.

He had a pulse. He was human again!

The darkness surrounding him was suddenly suffocating, pulling at his breath and stealing his rational thought. He was real, but he was going to die. Humans can’t survive as long as he had without food and water and air! He couldn’t keep control of his ghost form and his human half was going to die! He had to change back or he would fail at doing the only thing he had left!!

He started hyperventilating and desperately grabbed at his ghost core. An immediate searing pain shot through his chest. The sound he made was akin to someone tearing paper and he fell over on his side. He began trembling all over.

That hurt so bad. That hurt so bad.

He couldn’t think. He could breathe but that just brought him closer to death. Tears welled from his eyes and caught on something just beyond his eyelashes, turning the blackness somehow darker. He was going to die and the recycled ecto had failed and he was going to die and the static wouldn’t stop and the hands wouldn’t let him go and he was going to die alone and forgotten he was going to die again nopleasenopleasenotagain-

Something touched his hands.

Danny jerked back and away, nausea surging up his throat. He pushed himself up only to vomit stomach acid. The only thing in his system. It burned as it came and went. His stomach clenched so hard that he curled over on himself. His muscles shook with strain as he hyperventilated. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move…

Something touched him again. A gentle pressure on his back. Warm and soft.

He tensed beyond what he thought he was able. Rigid, but shaking in fear. He had no thoughts beyond the sheer terror of what he thought was unreality becoming reality.

Moments passed. And nothing happened.

The pressure on his back stayed. It did not grasp at him like the hands did. It remained gentle and soft. A warmth. It was different. It was scary.

It felt nice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s breathing calmed. Slowly, he felt things around him. He felt the blood trickling down his arms. The cold floor under his legs. The soft, long shirt on his body didn’t close in the back or reach down past his knees. He was warmer than the floor which was strange, but made sense. He was human again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he turned back human. It was his greatest fear. To turn human in the box and die alone and small in the dark enclosed space.

But he wasn’t dying. He was breathing. The air was fresh. It tasted strange. His hands fluttered along the wounds on his arms. He felt pain and knew it was real. And the pressure on his back felt real.

Did… did someone open the box?

Hope hit him so hard that he began to cry softly. He couldn’t let himself hope, but he couldn’t deny it. Not when this all seemed so real. His crying grew harder. Harsh stuttering breaths that he couldn’t even hear. Which was kind of odd. Why couldn’t he hear himself? Did he still have ears? He slowly reached up and felt where his ears should be. There was something covering them. A hard plastic thing that went up over his head. Slowly his hands moved in front of his face. He found his nose and his mouth. They were still there. Then he touched the places where his eyes should be. He felt cloth.

His eyes and ears were covered?

Another hand touched his own and he jolted. It was as gentle and warm as the other hand. He could finally hear his ragged cries as the hand took his gently and intertwined the fingers. A gentle squeeze had the tears coming hard and fast. From fear or hope? There was no telling. A sheer outpouring of emotion.

Someone had opened the box.

And they were holding his hand.

He desperately hoped this was real.

----------

That's it for now! Honestly I'm just writing snippets of story beats and then stringing them together when the anxiety has quieted. I have an AO3 account now, but I'm still posting everything here first!

Nyeeeh keep an eye out for more I guess.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #ghost in a box #hipster writes #homemade soup

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eggcats · 1 year ago

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Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)

And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.

Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.

Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)

However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).

So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"

Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??

(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)

Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.

(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)

So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.

(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)

So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)

When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)

The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #duckiedeer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #fic #mine #long post #Alastor seeing someone else making fun of Lucifer: how DARE you thats MY job and youre not even DOING IT RIGHT get out of my hotel now

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dreamsteddie · 7 days ago

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See Me Through Rose Tinted Glasses

It's finally happening! The final part! A fic that was supposed to take two weeks and be 2,000 words long turned into a two and a half month 8,000 plus word project. @devondespresso thank you so much for bearing with me as I wrote this, I hope you enjoy it!

divider from @thecutestgrotto

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Ao3

“Hey babe, sorry I’m late. We couldn’t decide what ice cream to get. We ended up just getting both. God knows between you and Dustin it’ll be gone by the week anyway.” He doesn’t look up as he’s coming through the door, too focused on juggling his five bags of groceries and toeing off his shoes at the door.

When no response comes, he stops. Eddie is never quiet, nor is Dustin.

“Eddie? Dustin?” He calls out, his mom coming through the door behind him.

“Oh honey, don’t be so anxious. They’re probably upstairs going over those books Dusty loves again. You know how they get absorbed in those things.” Steve does know. It’s one of the things he both loves and loathes about the little family unit they’ve got going on, not that Steve would ever refer to them as such in front of Eddie. It would be too much, just like he always is.

He’s getting ready to take his mom’s word for it, drop off the groceries and let himself ignore the strange feeling tickling up the back of his neck, when he sees the absolute mess of their kitchen table. Newspapers and glossy picture printouts that he knows he’s going to find charged to his own card because his brother is a little shit.

“Jesus fuck Steve, you didn’t tell me Eddie did track! I couldn’t even get close to him before he was gone.” Dustin says as he comes in from the back door, clearly a little winded. Steve doesn’t even tell him to watch his language because…well because what the fuck.

“Dustin, dude, what the hell is all of this?” He asks, completely ignoring his brother as he goes on. He picks up a particularly unflattering close-up of Eddie, only to be met with a sight he truly did not want to associate with his sibling. “Is this a fucking Playgirl? What the fuck Dustin?” The mention of illicit materials is enough to summon their mom in record time.

“Dustin Michael Henderson, your brother better not have said what I think he said,” she chimes in from the doorway.

“Mom, mom, no! It’s not like that, I swear, it’s research!” Dustin bellows way too loud for the small space of their dining room.

“Honey, it’s perfectly natural to be curious about women, but I would appreciate it if you kept your research in your room and off the dining room table.”

Steve tunes them out, too used to the ebbs and flows of their family dynamic to be concerned, not with the Beautiful Minds, 1920s detective shit taking up space in his third favorite room in the house. It takes him longer than it probably should to realise what he’s looking at, and almost no time after he does to get a sinking suspicion of what Dustin has been sneaking around about for the past few weeks while giving his boyfriend the cold shoulder.

Normally, he wouldn’t interrupt Dustin getting a lecture from their mom, it’s always so well deserved, but he needs answers. He reaches a hand back without looking, using what he likes to call his ‘brother sense’ to give Dustin a good couple of smacks in the shoulder to get his attention. Mom usually has something to say about bones and medical conditions when he gets the slightest but rough, but she’s a little preoccupied at the moment.

“Seriously Dustin, what the hell his going on here? What did you do?” Dustin sputters indignantly from behind him, as if he isn’t clearly guilty of something.

“I didn’t do anything Steve.” He says crossing around into his brother’s line of sight, crossing his arms in a clear mockery of Steve’s ‘this is serious’ pose. The kid really needs to get his attitude in check.

“I was just performing my brotherly duties of making sure Eddie knows to be careful! This was just research to make sure he knows that I know how to bury him, if need be. Me and the girls, of course,” he continues. “The guy’s got a wild life, I’ll tell you that.”

As he wraps up his defence, Dustin picks up a newspaper to wave around like evidence, and that’s when the final pieces slot into place.

Local Teen, Eddie Munson, Arrested in Connection to Murder of Chrissy Cunningham.

The picture makes his heart clench painfully. Black and white and yellowed with age but still so clear. It’s Eddie, fresh out of high school. Hair shorter, ears sticking out sweetly, dirt on his face, eyes past full of deep fear. His Eddie.

“Dustin where did you get that?” He asks, severe in a way he never is. It’s enough even to stop Dustin in his tracks. “Dustin!” He snaps when he doesn’t say anything. He can hear their mom gasp and start to chastise him, but he doesn’t listen.

“I went to the library! I just asked them to give me everything on Eddie Munson and they gave me a bunch of stuff. It’s not like I broke any laws of anything!” Dustin is getting man now, too, which is never a good combination. They’re both too stubborn for their own good.

Steve pinches his nose as hard as he can to stave off the impending blowup he can feel building under his skin. Their mom relies on him to be the more level-headed one. “It doesn’t matter where you got it, man, you shouldn’t have it in the first place,” he grits out.

“Why not?” Dustin asks like Steve is being dumb. “It’s like, public knowledge. It’s out there for anyone who wants to know. You should know. I know Eddie’s a great guy but this is a big deal and you should-”

“I already know about this crap, dipshit! I didn’t need you digging around in my boyfriend’s private life for me!” He’s officially lost his cool.

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that? I’m just trying to look out for you!” Dustin yells back. “Besides, why shouldn’t we know about it? It’s not like I hunted down his old classmates or something; it was in the newspaper! A bunch of newspapers!”

“Boys, this really isn’t-”

“BECAUSE IT’S NONE OF OUR BUSINESS DUSTIN! JESUS H CHRIST.” He’s breathing hard, like he just ran a marathon, as silence descends around them. Steve never screams, never raises his voice. Not like that, but he’s done.

Steve runs his hand through his hair. Twenty minutes ago, he was thinking about whether or not he would have enough time to style it before their reservation at Enzo’s. Was thinking about if his red sweater was clean and if the ice cream would survive the car ride and if he should have the pasta or the pork at dinner tonight and if Eddie would invite him back to his house at the end of the night.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t give a shit if it’s public knowledge or not, Eddie deserved to tell us this kind of shit when he was ready. If he was ever ready.” Too late for that, an unhelpful part of his brain supplies.

Steve watches as the fight slowly drains out of his brother, and the weight of the skeleton he just dragged out of the closet registers. The thing about Dustin is that, no matter how badly he pushes your buttons or calls you stupid to your face, he’s a good kid. The best, really. He just gets ahead of himself, so far in front he can’t see the consequences.

He looks down at the paper still clutched in his hand, staring hard at the same picture Steve had, and frowns. “Shit,” he says, elequent as always.

“Yeah man, shit is right,” Steve responds.

No one seems to know where to go from there. Time is ticking past, and with every second, Steve feels a burning building in his feet, telling him to go looking for Eddie. Dustin said he ran out the back door, which doesn’t bode well. He hopes he went back to his apartment, but there’s no saying for sure.

It’s his mom who gives him direction. She’s always been the wisest of any of them, the strongest too, always able to handle any situation the world throws at them. Dustin isn’t ready for a full apology, and Steve sure as hell isn’t ready to offer any forgiveness, so there’s only really one thing to do.

She places a warm, soft hand on his arm and gives it a squeeze. “You go find Eddie, I’ll take care of things here,” she says, shooting a meaningful look at a visibly cowed but silent Dustin. He squeezes her into a hard hug, suddenly violently grateful for her presence in his life, and runs out the door.

He’s got a rock start to find.

Eddie is not wearing shoes for this kind of walking. In all honesty, he probably doesn’t even own a pair of shoes designed for support anymore. Everything he buys nowadays is for the vibe.

God, he feels like a poser all of a sudden.

Two miles probably shouldn’t be that big a deal, but after the night he’s had, the pain building in his feet is draining every last bit of his energy to the point of debating just calling Steve tomorrow. The only thing stopping him is the knowledge that Steve probably, definitely, saw him run out the door and is probably worried sick.

Despite the little demon in his brain telling him that after he takes a good look at all the skeletons in his closet he won’t care to look for him, Eddie knows that Steve is too good a guy to let even the lowest of low lives get lost in the Hawkins woods.

The good thing about the walk is that he gets to rehearse every imaginable scenario for how his impending interaction with Steve will go.

“Hey babe, sorry about running off like that. Now let me explain about those murders.”

No.

“Wild about those Playgirls right? I don’t know how they even got those pictures!”

Also no.

“Please, please don’t leave me. I swear half this shit is made up anyway. Please.”

Well, maybe.

The last block of his walk passes in a blur, like his brain can’t process that the walking is almost over. Consequently, the sight of Steve sitting on his front porch feels like a mirage. Something distant and perfect that could slip right through his fingers if he’s not careful.

He stops, his fashionable but painful boots finding purchase in the dewy, patchy grass of his rented front lawn.

Steve is always stupidly beautiful to Eddie. The guys say he has rose-tinted glasses on, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. They’ve only seen Steve through grainy photographs that don’t do him justice. They see him like the placid lake in a pleasant but static panorama that hangs in a high-class office, while Eddie sees the bubbling, splendid life hiding beneath.

Steve is good at presenting an unflappable, calm facade. He acts like he’s above it all, and Eddie, so far, has let him think that the people closest to him can’t see that his heart is perpetually stuck in the trenches.

All of that veneer is stripped from Steve in this moment.

He looks tired.

He looks scared.

Eddie feels like his heart is going to shrivel up in his chest. Wayne must have been wrong. All that time Eddie spent telling himself it would work out on his walk here was just him selling himself a fairytale. Steve is scared, but he’s being brave so he can let Eddie down and leave him behind for good.

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to ignore the breath stalling in his throat and the burning behind his eyes. He can do this. Good things rarely last for him, he shouldn’t be surprised this is how it’s going to end.

He closes his eyes, letting himself have one more moment of peace before his heart splinters in his chest.

Which means he doesn’t see Steve make his way towards him, his vintage Nikes soft enough in the soles to muffle his soft footsteps. It’s not until he feels warm, slightly calloused hands cupping his cheeks, that he even realizes that Steve has come closer.

Eddie flinches on instinct, too wound up to expect the gentle, insistent kindness Steve reaches out with. He doesn’t let it deter him, just curls his fingers so his ring and middle fingers cup just behind the curve of his ear, teasing the baby hairs found there.

“Eddie,” He breaths out. And, oh, that’s not the voice of somebody who’s getting ready to break his heart, not at all. Eddie opens his eyes, and that’s not the face of someone who’s afraid of him, maybe the opposite.

Maybe he didn’t see them, then, the skeletons in his closet. Maybe Eddie will still have to tell him and watch the fear bubble up and the care drip out. The thought makes his breath hitch, but he doesn’t look away.

“Eddie. I know, it’s ok.” Steve’s voice is rough and soft at the same time, a beautiful contradiction that obscures the meaning of his words for a moment. Eddie scrunches as the answer comes to him. That can’t be right. He must be talking about something else. Maybe the rehab, maybe the overdose that preceded it, because Steve wouldn’t be looking at him like that if he were talking about Chrissy.

“You don’t know, I-I” He needs to say it, but the atoms in his body are resisting. They want to stay in Steve’s orbit for as long as they can. Let his beautiful eyes and his beautiful hands and his beautiful voice cradle him into the long night, and they know that everything they touch goes ugly.

Steve deserves anything but the ugly of Eddie’s life.

“I know Eddie. I have known. The entire time. Since we met.” The words don’t register, not fully.

“Wha-”

And now Steve is the one who looks guilty, which is absurd.

“Fuck, this is so stupid.” Steve pinches his nose, a tell Eddie has learned to mean anything from Steve feeling mild exasperation to Steve pushing down tears. He hopes it’s not the latter, he doesn’t think he could handle seeing Steve cry on top of everything else. “Robin got really into those true crime radio shows for a while, like…three years ago?” Steve starts, not looking Eddie in the eye, but clinging tight to the back of his shirt, not letting go.

“She made me listen to them all the time, would just change the station whenever she got in my car like I wanted to listen to a bunch of washed up 30 something act like they know shit about fuck.” Which…Eddie is aware that people talk about what happened. They like to bring it up every anniversary, every album drop, every birthday, every time there isn’t a better headline to print, but radio shows?

“You knew?” It seems impossible that Steve could have known, really known, what happened before he agreed to let Eddie take him out. Not the full of it, anyway.

“I don’t really give a shit what Jim, or John, or Jerremy with a microphone or Jan and Josie on the morning news have to say about my boyfriend.” There’s that little bitchy furrow of his brow that Eddie is learning to love. He kind of wants to bite it, which is really not an appropriate thought to have during what feels like one of the most important conversations he’s had in the last five years.

“I ran, Steve.” Because that’s always been the sticking point, for him, for everyone. He ran. He got locked in a closet, listened to the nicest girl in his school get mangled to death through the other side, and ran before he even knew she was gone.

Ran and didn’t look back.

Ran until the soles of his feet bled and the sirens caught up.

Ran and didn’t even try to help. Didn’t even try to save her.

And then he ran again tonight. Nothing changed. Nothing new. The same Eddie he was on the worst night of his life.

The same Eddie that only an uncle could love.

But maybe, impossibly, he’s wrong again. Because they haven’t said the words, and it feels too fast to be something he can recognize on sight, but Steve is looking at him with eyes full of love and understanding.

“It sounded scary.” It was. By god, had he been scared.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry about Chrissy.” So is he, every day.

“I would have run, too,” Steve says.

It feels like a lie—or, no. It feels like Steve is telling him what he thinks is the truth, underestimating himself with full confidence. Eddie knows, somewhere deep in his bones beyond his rational thought, that Steve would stand his ground in the face of even the worst monsters—in the face of Henry Creel.

But it’s enough, somehow, to hear him say it. To hear Steve say that not only does he know, actually truly know, but that he understands.

I love you, the thinks. “Thank you,” he says.

Steve smiles, slow and charming and tilting up on one side. Eddie lets himself wrap his arms fully around him, still a little unsure of his welcome but willing to try just about anything to get a little bit closer to that smile. “Of course, baby. You know you’re not the only one with a couple of demons hanging around. I’m just sorry you didn’t get to tell me in your own time,” Steve says.

Steve is running a hand through his hair now, settling flyaway hairs from his mad dash like he has any hope of getting them to stay.

Maybe it’s better this way, Eddie thinks to himself. For all the drama, all the fear, Eddie doesn’t know if he would have ever been brave enough to say it himself. He might have gone months, years, with this secret eating him alive, wondering if Steve would leave him when he found out, taking their little burgeoning family with him when he left/

At least this way, Eddie knows. It should have been his choice, Steve is right, but at least he doesn’t have to live with the ‘what if?’ anymore.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and lets it go. The worst as passed, the storm has moved on, and Eddie would really, truly like to sleep for at least twelve hours straight and take these boots off before his feet bleed.

For now, though, he lets himself tuck into the safety of his boyfriend’s neck and close his eyes, just for a moment. Steve continues to pet his hair, carefully detangling the strants, and lets out a low humm of contentment, like he’s completely happy to stand with Eddie in the patchwork grass for as long as he’d like.

A beat passes where they just listen to the crickets sing and the cars rumble in the distance.

It’s Steve who speaks first.

“And hey, maybe when you’re feeling a little better, we can look through that Playgirl together.”

Eddie smiles.

How the hell did he get so lucky?

Tag List: @warlordess @shoujo-wizard @thewickedkat @phiauniverse @estrellami-1 @awcere

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brittle-doughie · 1 month ago

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I though of a really funny Idea, so here-

[Earthbread, Cookie Kingdom]

The entirety of Earthbread had went to panic mode. Y/N had been missing for about two days up to this point and now everyone is at the Cookie Kingdom for a sorta meeting to figure out what to do up to this point.

White Lily: “has any cookie been about to find Y/N!?”

Caramel: “we checks everywhere, yet not a single crumb of evidence where Y/N might be.”

White Lily: “nonononononono, this can’t be happening. How did this even happen? Last any cookies checked Y/N was with us during a meeting for the beasts here. They didn’t even leave the castles.”

every cookie continues to talk about how they somehow lost a smocked marshmallow colored cookie. During this, Fenikkusu flew down near the crowd to drop off some mail. Sense he is literal phoenix, every cookie noticed.

White Lily: “Fenikkusu!”

Fenikkusu: “hmm?”

White Lily: “listen: do you know where Y/N Might be? You know almost everything that happens, so you must know SOMETHING….right?”

…

Fenikkusu: “oh yeah! Y/N wanted to go somewhere else for an adventure. So they and Blood Orange went to the human realm so they could do something there. Something about ‘family business’ or something.”

Every single cookie: “……………………….”

White Lily: “……..w h a t ?”

[United Kingdom, Liverpool]

Jewels (Blood Orange) and Y/N walk along the streets of Liverpool, Jewels home town where he grew up for most of his early life. Both were tasked with finding someone from his bloodline that needed to be taken in alive.

Y/N: “you know, despite humans seeing cookies as food, this realm is actually not that bad to be in. Isn’t too far from the cookie realm in culture too.”

Jewel: “eh, my theory is cookies based their architecture and culture from humans in certain aspects. Besides that, they differ in the fact magic users are almost nonexistent within the public. Anyway, we should probably find the target now. Scarla doesn’t take failure lightly. Especially from rookies.”

Y/N: “eh.” *munch “at least the foods good.”

….

Meanwhile Fenikkusu is flying at top speed while about a kilometer away almost every singly flying cookie and a tsunamis worth of crows gives chase.

See, Fenikkusu wouldn’t be in this situation if he just lied and didn’t know where they went.

#brittle answers

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby?

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once.

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes.

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly.

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room.

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider.

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor.

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other.

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time.

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat.

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia.

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him.

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation.

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly.

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery.

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face.

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file.

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip.

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for.

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy."

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back.

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off, humming and sighing softly.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy.

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed.

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child.

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work.

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did.

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator.

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly.

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded.

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you.

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea.

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning.

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket.

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now.

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee.

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway.

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly.

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you.

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island.

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?"

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

588 notes · View notes