#brandon arreaga fics

[thotwonu]

‘til the casket drops... intro

Just the beginning...

the cold was finally coming. the hottest summer she could remember was finally coming to an end. walking down the pavement, Katia had a soft lingering smile on her face. the wind bit at her cheeks and the trees around her and begun turning her favorite shades of yellow and orange. the smell of burning wood fireplaces lingered around her and even the cold itself had a smell. the townspeople had begun putting up halloween decorations. and an air of excitement had settled over the small town of Fox Point. it was her favorite time of year. that day she’d donned her favorite black ankle boots, her most worn knit sweater that was a little too large on her, and a pair of thick black leggings. she had her long dark hair pulled up into a messy bun on the back of her head, a few stray curls hanging down the back of her neck, and her baby hairs fluttering around her face in the wind.

she hummed a little tune under her breath as she took in the ambiance around her, sipping on the warm coffee in her hand. she could feel it all around her. the closer to halloween they got, the more the energy around her hummed. growing up in a small town had often meant hiding her abilities from those who would see here as "other". many friends over the years had learned her secret and treated her the same, but no one of her kind would ever forget the persecution they'd faced for centuries.

there had always rumors swirling around her family. men never lasted long in their family. many women in her family had sworn off love, watching sisters, mothers, aunts, all succumb to the same pain of losing the love of their life. to be fair, the rumors were all true. in the early days of the town, when the country was still new, and fear fueled those in power, Katia's great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother had had the audacity to fall in love with the mayor's son. she fell pregnant, and out of wedlock, brought shame upon the town. the mayor and the local priest decided that the only way that she could have possibly seduced the man was through witchcraft. and when her lover went along with the accusations and married a girl of a prominent local family...well Lucia Rivera had not taken it very well. she fled the town for fear of being burned at the stake. she in her grief, she cast a spell on herself, that she would never feel the pain of loving a man again. unfortunately, because she was pregnant at the time, her spell became a curse, only girls would be born into the family, and none would ever outlive a man who she dared fall in love with.

she’d watched her mother wither away when her father died because of the curse. she was 8 when they lost him, 11 when they lost her mother. she and her twin sister, Amaya, had been raised by their grandmother and great-aunt after that. it had been nearly a decade since her mother had died. the rumors had swirled around the two little girls through their adolescence. mothers would forbid their sons from even speaking to the girls. other girls would tease them about how they had never been kissed or had boyfriends. it always affected Amaya more than Katia. Amaya was a romantic, she believed she’d be the one to break the curse on their family. Katia was a realist, she never wanted to feel the pain that had killed her mother.

needless to say they coped differently. Amaya jumped from boy to boy in their high school years, falling in and out of love the way one falls in and out of love with a song on the radio. Katia kept to herself mostly, preferring to study her magic and finish high school. now, having finished her undergrad degree online and she'd opened a small store in the main square selling spice blends and homeopathic remedies, she felt like she was finally thriving. Amaya had run of to the West Coast earlier that month with some boy she’d met in a bar in the city. he was in a band, and they were going to make it big! Katia laughed every time she talked to her sister on the phone about how she was a muse for this guy she barely knew and definitely didn't know anything about her.

it was because of one of these phone calls that Katia ran into a man walking past her shop as she went to open it that morning. her breath was caught in her throat and she dropped her phone and keys to the concrete as his aura enveloped her senses. the season always made her empathetic abilities a little more sensitive, but she’d never so strongly felt someone else’s emotions. pain, confusion, fear, anger, they all swirled around in his gut. “sorry,” he muttered distractedly before walking past her. she stared after him for a moment before her sister’s tinny voice coming from her phone broke her out of her stupor. “sorry, Maya, i just ran into some guy...” her sister’s voice became high pitched and excited. “was he cute? did you get his number?” Katia rolled her eyes and pushed the door of her shop open. “you literally heard the whole exchange. i didn’t say anything to him,” she began her normal morning routine, placing her sister on speaker phone and fluttering throughout the shop making sure everything was prepared for her day.

“you should’ve talked to him. you know i worry about you Kitty Kat. you don’t have anyone to take care of you. Grams and Tia Celia won’t be around forever.” again, Katia just rolled her eyes. “i don’t need anyone to take care of me Maya.” the conversation was a common one between the sisters. their differing view points always leading to fond exasperation. the bell on the door to the shop jingled and Katia’s eyes shot up. the prettiest man she’d ever seen had stepped into her shop. “i gotta go Maya...” she whispered hanging up the phone without waiting for her sister’s response.

she tracked him around the shop, both with her eyes and her magic. he had dark eyes, and darker hair. both hidden slightly though, by glasses and a beanie. he had a strange aura around him. she could tell he was an artist, music primarily but he dabbled in other forms. his energy had depth that made her dizzy. something in his energy reminded her of the man she'd run into earlier. he didn't look like the other man, but he had similar emotions swirling in him. but his primary emotion was curiosity, like he was trying to ignore whatever was causing his turmoil. and that, she could work with. "welcome to Lucia's Spice, is there anything i can help you with?" she asked coming around the counter and subtly using her magic to light some lavender candles she had in the window. the man's eyes snapped to her and a soft smile broke out on his face, "hi, yeah. actually. a friend of mine has been having trouble sleeping. he doesn't want to take any sleeping pills or anything and when i got into town i saw this shop and thought maybe there was something here for him." Katia's heart skipped a beat as his voice rolled over her like honey. he wasn't saying anything particularly attractive, but something about his voice...

Brandon had been trying to get away from it all when he found himself in Fox Point. living in a big city and working as a music producer had seemed like a dream a few years ago. but the longer he did it, the less it felt like he was making art, and the more he felt like he was just doing a job. when Austin and Edwin suggested that they all go on a vacation he'd quickly agreed. granted, he had assumed they'd go somewhere tropical and get wasted and maybe go parasailing or something. instead they came to a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere because Austin saw a YouTube video about how it was haunted by witches who had been burned at the stake during the Witch Trials. Brandon was still a little fuzzy on how visiting the town was a getaway, but Austin had somehow convinced them all that staying in a haunted bed and breakfast for the month of October was a good de-stressing plan. on they had gotten there though, Nick had been having trouble sleeping, Zion had been having nightmares, and he had just been bored.

that was how he ended up walking around the downtown area and finding the small spice shop tucked away between a bookshop and a coffee shop & cafe. when he walked in he was just a little curious about what the shop might hold. he expected it was probably run by an elderly lady with long grey hair. but when a girl around his age approached him to help him out he was happily surprised. "for trouble sleeping i'd probably recommend some lavender. do you know what's keeping him up? is it restlessness or anxiousness? if he's thinking too much to relax, i have a blend of essential oils that could help. you can either diffuse them before bed or massage it into your skin. my sister struggles with nightmares, so she actually has it mixed in with her lotion." Brandon followed the girl around the store like a puppy following a treat. he felt entranced by her. she had a light blush on her freckled cheeks and she seemed to have a hard time keeping eye contact with him. but as she continued talking about the different products she had to help him he couldn't help but hang on her every word.

"you're not from around here are you?" she asked as she rung up the shower melts and oils he had chosen to buy. he shook his head and leaned on the counter between them, gazing at her, trying to memorize her face. "you can tell?" she nodded and giggled lightly, "small town, i've lived here my whole life. we don't get visitors often." he nodded as she spoke. "i'm here with some friends for the month. needed a getaway and let the one who falls into YouTube black holes plan the trip. we're staying in the haunted bed and breakfast over by the courthouse." she hummed and handed him back his credit card and his bag. "Ye Olde Haunted House," she giggled and seemed to whisper something under her breath. "good luck..." she stopped for a moment. he realized that he hadn't given her his name in the time they'd been speaking. "Brandon." she nodded and her face softened up more than it had been before. "good luck Brandon. i hope you and your friends all get better night's sleep." he waved at her as he walked out of the store. he was halfway down the block when he realized that her number and her name were scribbled across the bottom of the receipt she had handed him. he didn't remember seeing her write it, but there it was. "Katia..."

[sadgurllayha]

Hiiii ok I’m officially off of my year hiatus and want some new writing material so MY ASK ARE OPEN here are the rules

Ask Rules

I’m only writing for BTS as of right now but maybe in the future there could be more.

No heavy smut or sexual content, I’m not comfortable writing that so sorry😭

No reposting my work on to other sites and if you see it please let me know!!!

NO SHIPS! NO OC’S! NO MEMBERXMEMBER!

because of my personal writing style most fics will be written with a female Y/N if you prefer for it to be Neutral pls lemme know😁

[morningfears]

Talk It Out

Rating: PG

Summary: “Hi can I have a Brandon angsty fluff with prompt 6 like either he’s away or you guys have broken up because of distance and he calls or literally anything I need it more than my next breath” | “Sorry for calling so late. I just really needed to hear your voice.” for Anon.

Word Count: 1.9k

Brandon stared at his cellphone, the device a heavy weight in his hand as his thumb hovered over your contact information. He glanced at the time, close to two in the morning for him, though he knew that it would be an hour later for you, and hesitated. He desperately wanted to talk to you, he needed to hear your voice, but he felt that he had no right to call. It had been two months since he’d heard your voice, four months since you’d seen one another in person, and the distance hurt more and more with each passing day.

He knew, deep down, that he only had himself to blame for the breakup. Things had been going great for the two of you, your relationship had been stronger than ever and he was more in love with you than anyone he’d ever been with, but he’d been selfish. He had been so focused on his own career, on following his own dreams, that he’d expected you to put yours on hold.

You were always there for him. You were always a steady presence in his life, a voice of reason whenever he needed one, and he took that for granted. The nights that you spent waiting for him to come to bed only to end up having to drag him from the studio, the dates that he cancelled or forgot because something work related came up, the days that would pass without talking because he knew you’d be there when he finally called you back; those were all things that he took as a given. They were proof that you’d be there, no matter what, and he was sure that when things finally settled down, when he was ready, you would still be there.

However, life hadn’t worked out that way.

You had dreams of your own. You’d talked about them with him when the pair of you first started dating. He remembered you talking about your desire to move to the east coast and spend at least a year living in a city that gets all four seasons. He remembered your desire to get an internship with a specific company, based in New York. He remembered your desire to do something with your life, to make a difference in the world, and he always admired that.

As he sat in the back lounge of the tour bus, the door shut so that whatever noise he made would hopefully not wake the others, he remembered that you hinted at being willing to compromise. You suggested, once upon a time, that you’d be willing to go for a three month internship, maybe while he was on tour, so that you wouldn’t have to be away from home when he was. Or maybe you could find something similar in L.A. because it was the experience that really mattered. 

You had been willing to compromise if he had just given you a little indication that he was as serious about your relationship as you were. You had been willing to make the long nights and the long distance work if he’d just tried a little bit harder. But he got caught up in the pressure. Everything had to be perfect, every song and every tour. He didn’t have time for you then, mostly because he imagined that you’d always be there when he finally got a second to breathe, but, as he sat alone in the back of the bus, he realized that he should’ve made time.

He realized that he should’ve tried harder, that he should’ve made you a priority, but you always put such a focus on being happy and trying your best to keep it together that he hadn’t really realized how bad things were. He hated to admit it, hated it even more because everyone else saw it but him, but you were the sole reason your relationship seemed to run so smoothly in the end. You never complained, you never did anything other than be yourself, and he wondered if that would’ve changed anything. If you had complained, if you had yelled at him or called him an inconsiderate asshole, would he have realized his mistake before he lost you? Or would that have only sped up the end? 

He huffed a deep sigh as he realized that dwelling on the past wouldn’t change anything. In the end, you’d still been yourself. You were encouraging, thoughtful, and told him to focus on music as you informed him that you’d gotten the internship and had opted to spend a year in New York. You told him that things would be better this way, you both could follow your passions without worrying about one another, but it had hit him like a punch to the stomach. 

Four months ago, almost to the day, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and wished him well before you left him in the studio. Three months ago, he’d taken to sending you little snippets of songs he’d worked on for you over the course of your relationship. Two months ago, you’d called him and asked him to stop. You appreciated the thought, you did, but it was a little late. You, again, wished him well and promised him that if he wanted your approval for a song (he always promised you that he’d ask before he attempted to put anything out into the world about you), you’d be willing to listen.

And that was that.

But as he sat, alone with his thoughts and the photos of the pair of you still in his camera roll, he desperately needed to hear your voice. His chest felt tight, his heart pounded, and his hands were shaking as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He was overwhelmed, exhausted, and the only person he thought of that would make him feel better was you.

So he called.

He didn’t really expect you to answer. At the very least, he expected you to tell him to fuck off for calling so late, but you answered on the third ring with a tired, but worried, “Brandon? Is everything alright?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he breathed, his chest loosening slightly as he listened to the sound of your voice. “Everything is fine. Sorry for calling so late. I just,” he paused for a moment, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, before he admitted, “I just really needed to hear your voice.”

You were silent for a moment, only the shuffling of sheets could be heard, and Brandon almost apologized again but before he could, you spoke. “Where are you guys tonight?” you asked, your voice sounding more alert as you moved to lie on your back.

“Chicago. It was crazy. The show was amazing,” Brandon assured you, his voice small as he fought to keep himself calm. It had been so long since you’d spoken, really and truly spoken, that even talking about the little things made him feel those familiar butterflies in the pit of his stomach. “How’s New York?”

“It’s good,” you hummed, “cold, but good. The internship is going well. I’m starting to get used to the routine and everything so I feel a little more at home.” Brandon hummed his acknowledgement and any other time, you’d have wondered if he was paying attention. However, the tone of his voice when you’d answered the call told you everything you needed to know. He was listening, you were sure, and he needed you to talk to him. So, you did.

Brandon would ask a question, about how work was or how you liked your new apartment or if you’d caved and gotten one of those puffy jackets, and you would answer it at length. You did the majority of the talking, a sort of unusual feat for your relationship, but it was nice. You hadn’t really had many people to talk about it with. Your parents and friends were happy for you, of course, but there were things that you couldn’t share with them that you felt comfortable telling Brandon. 

And as much as he needed to hear your voice, you found that you had really needed to just talk to him.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t missed him. In fact, you missed him more and more every day. You were homesick but not for California. You missed the comfort that came with being with Brandon and, even if things hadn’t been the easiest in the end, you missed him. He’d been nearly perfect, the only issue was his difficulty at dividing his time, but you hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t let him know that it was such a problem and you sometimes wondered if just talking it out would’ve saved your relationship.

However, it didn’t do to dwell on the past so you’d left well enough alone. This, however, made you curious. And it wasn’t as if you had anything to lose.

So, when there was a lull in the conversation, as Brandon thought of another question, you asked, “If I’d said something, if I’d asked you to spend more time with me or make us more of a priority, would you have done it?”

“I’d have tried,” he answered, his voice quiet as he slumped in his seat. He’d asked himself the same question a few times, wondering if he’d have done anything differently had you talked to him, and he wanted to believe that he would have. But he also knew that he was stubborn and set in his ways so he very easily could’ve ended up slipping back into old habits. “But maybe I needed you to do this so I could see what life would be like if I didn’t try hard enough.”

You were silent for a moment and Brandon wondered if that was the wrong answer. However, before he could attempt to clarify, you whispered, “I really miss you, B.”

Brandon was surprised but relieved as he heard those words leave your lips. “I miss you, too,” he returned, his voice earnest as he thought about the distance, both physical and emotional, separating the two of you. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of this was the right thing to do, but he decided he had nothing to lose. So, he said, “We’ll be in New York in a few days. Maybe we could get lunch and talk?”

You didn’t know if that was a good idea but you were willing to do just about anything to see his face again. So, instead of listening to the rational portion of your brain that reminded you there was a reason you’d left, you found yourself agreeing. “Let me know when you get to the city. I know a place that I think you’ll like.”

“I’ll see you in a few days, then,” he breathed, feeling lighter than he he had in months. You should go back to bed. It’s, what, close to four there?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “and I have to be up in a few hours. But I guess I just really needed to hear your voice, too. Good night, B.”

“Good night,” he returned, “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Neither of you knew how your first encounter in months would go, neither of you even knew what to expect, but you both went to sleep feeling hopeful. You both felt lighter than you had in months and, for the time being, that was all that mattered.

_______________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I don’t know how I feel about this. I haven’t written angst in SO long and I just. I dunno. All I know is that when I first saw PM, I thought Brandon would be my favorite because of his look (I’m super into the fucking emo boy thing). I still like him, though. He’s cute. Anyway, today was a day. I’m tired. I’m gonna go continue cleaning my apartment because my parents took me literally when I said they could come visit whenever they wanted and they’re coming tomorrow. So.

[ethereal-honeygold]

y'all my mom is blasting blind (acoustic) in her room rn and even restarted it so she can hit nick's high note!

[glossedchaos]

DISTRACTED - B.A

brandon takes care of y/n while her mind is elsewhere

you were seated on the carpeted floor of your bedroom, staring up at the television mounted onto the wall. you had stepped off of the bed hours ago to pick up a chip you dropped onto the floor while binging your new obsession on netflix and had decided to stay on the ground instead of wasting precious seconds by climbing back onto the bed.

your boyfriend brandon had sauntered into the room, carrying in packets of thai food for dinner but was not surprised to you still staring at the tv, as per you were in the morning before he left for work.

"babe, have you eaten anything?" he asked, concerned about your wellbeing. he had never seen you so obsessed with anything, well other than him, but he was glad you had found something to be passionate about.

"shhh, after this episode," you argued, your eyes never leaving the screen. you were in the zone and frankly, nothing else really mattered to you at that point.

he tutted as he wandered across the room to light the baked goods scented candle on your mantle to rid the room of your entrapped fumes. moments later you felt a weight across your shoulders; his strong fingers applying pressure to remove the knots in your shoulders from the uncomfortable positions you’ve been in for the last few days. as much as you wanted to close your eyes and enjoy the massage, you simply couldn’t miss a second of what was about to happen and slapped his hands away.

moments later you heard a rustling and looked to see him placing a fleece blanket over you, "we gotta keep you warm and make sure you don't get sick, your dumbass is sitting right under the air conditioner,"

you tried not to be distracted by him as the soundtrack hinted that a big reveal would be coming in a matter of minutes when you felt his fingers in your hair.

"b-"

"shhh shh shh, just watch your show, i got it," he reassured as he gathered your hair into a ponytail and combed through it with his fingers before tying it up with a hair tie.

"there, now you can see it better," he announced before he kissed your cheek, "just let me know when you're ready to eat," and left to sit on the bed to wait for you.

as much as you were intriguid by the events of the telenovela, you were touched by his actions and felt that he deserved just as much or even more than the attention you'd been dedicating to the show. 

you switched off the tv and turned to face him. his eyes filled with loneliness as the movement through his instagram feed reflected onto his glasses. watching him sit alone made you admit that you hadn’t spent much time with him since your semester came to an end two weeks ago. you had been preoccupied with a show that went off air in the 90’s instead of spending anytime with brandon, who was also on a break from work, leaving him lonlier than ever.

you could only imagine what he was going through, just wandering about the house as you cooped yourself up in the room and cut him off for days on end and he never complained but instead did everything he could to make sure you were well taken care of. your heart fell to your stomach upon the realisation, putting yourself in his shoes was incredibly painful and you were determined to make it up to him.

after realising that the room had gone silent, brandon looked up from his phone to see you staring at him from the foot of the bed. "you know that's terrifying right?" he joked, "is the episode over?"

"no but let's not talk about that right now. from now on, all my attention is gonna be on you. you've been so good to me and i haven't exactly been the best at reciprocating that affection," you hung your head, ashamed of yourself.

"no, babe it's okay. you were invested. it's cool-"

"no, it's not; and i wanna make it up to you," you climbed onto the bed and straddled him, your hands cupping his face before bringing your lips to meet his. you've missed him; his scent, his taste, the way his body felt against yours and judging by his passionate sense of urgency, he definetly missed you as well, maybe even more. his hands moved to your hips to press you down onto him.

you pulled your lips away from his to tease and slowly moved your lower half against his, "why don't we have that dinner first and then..," your lips almost touching his ear, "i'll give you a special homemade dessert,"

"mm that sounds good but i have a better idea,' he moaned before flipping you over for him to be on top, his body hovering above yours as he took in the sight of your body under his "let's have dessert first," he chuckled before dipping his head to kiss your neck.

[bluewatersfairy]

‘Zat You, Santa Claus? - b.a

Summed up: Brandon’s been extra his entire life and nothing has changed in fatherhood

Warning: none, unless you’re scared of Santa Claus

Word count: 3.2K

•••

It all began the year prior during your traditional Halloween movie marathon.  After much discussion, you and Brandon had decided The Nightmare before Christmas was both a Christmas and Halloween movie, therefore it was added as the final movie on your list.

Brandon was sitting on the couch with your son in his lap fast asleep though that didn’t stop him from making quiet comments about the movie as if he’d never seen it before.  You were sitting on the opposite end of the couch, half-watching and half-online Christmas shopping for your boys.  It was the first quiet night in the Arreaga household in about a week and everyone was basking in it.

During the scene where Jack asks Sally to make him a Santa suit, an idea popped in Brandon’s head, one that he thought was beyond brilliant.

Your son Hassan was still getting used to the idea of Halloween and Christmas but it was no question that he loved the traditions that came along with it.  He was curious but at that time still not asking questions about each holiday.  

“I kinda wanna get a Santa suit,” Brandon said to you drawing you out of your phone.

“Why?”

“He’s curious,” he shrugged his shoulders as you made eye contact, “if I put out his presents wearing the suit, he’ll be safe from all the Santa rumours.”

You couldn’t help but shake your head a little with a smile tugging at your lips, “He’s two, I don’t think that’s something we have to think about right now.”

The next week, Brandon came home late from the studio with a Santa costume that included a fake belly and beard.  You were catching up on some television in the lounge when he came in with the biggest grin on his face.  

“What did you do now?” You’d asked after pausing your show, watching as your husband proudly pulled the red suit out from behind his back.  

“Oh my God,” was all you could say with your face in your hand.  

He dragged you upstairs after he’d put some of his stuff away and insisted you sat in bed.  You did as you were told, too tired to argue with him.  A few minutes passed and he came back into your room, fully decked out in his Santa drip.  

Again, you dropped your face into your hand and laughed while he strutted around your room.  

“Sexy, right?” he asked as he stopped in front of you, the cheekiest smile that your son had inherited on his face.

He looked like an idiot to you but his joy was as it always has been, incredibly sexy to you.  However, you really did not want to have to see him wear it ever again but you knew that nothing you said would stop him from wearing it on Christmas Eve.

“Please take it off and come to bed.”

Hassan didn’t make any trips downstairs that Christmas and Brandon was maybe a little disappointed about it all.  He did use the opportunity to play ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ and force you to kiss him under the mistletoe.  You only agreed to it after making him take the fake beard off.

This year, however, was a completely different story.  Hassan had completely fallen in love with the holidays and every day when he got home, he’d ask to either listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.  Bedtime had become a time when you and Brandon would make up stories about what was going on at the North Pole at that very moment.  He was completely infatuated with Santa and his elves.

One Saturday morning when Brandon was driving him and Hassan to their weekly swim lessons, his son informed him that he had something to say that he couldn’t tell his Mumma.  It was slightly concerning for Brandon to hear but he encouraged him to trust his Papa.

“In the nighttime, I saw Santa in our kitchen eating Mumma’s cookies,” Hassan said proudly, an excited giggle following.

“Did you really, buddy?” Brandon asked his son, mirroring his excitement.  

“Yes Daddy, I really did!” 

Brandon obviously knew that he had not seen Santa but someone else who happened to share his last name.  

With the growing swell of your belly and your late-night rendezvous’ in the kitchen, it was a wonder Hassan hadn’t claimed to see Santa earlier.  Especially since the two of you were so often walking about at the same time of night as Hassan was in his walk-a-bout phrase when he wakes up and you were having to get up to use the bathroom at least once a night.  

Before the month of December, you’d often awaken to your boy sleeping on the floor beside your bed but now that your Christmas tree was up, he was opting to sleep in front of the glowing lights instead.  You couldn’t blame him really, but it always sends you straight back upstairs to get Brandon.

All of this was common knowledge between you and him but your son had no clue either of his parents even knew of his late-night adventures.  The magic of falling asleep anywhere and waking up back in his bed was still very new to him.  

And the reason why he didn’t want you to know was very simple, he was eating your cookies and that would upset you if you were to find out.  It was always important to ask for permission before you ate something that wasn’t yours, Hassan knew and Santa was supposed to know all of that too.  If anything, the kid was a little disappointed in his hero, but still very giddy to have seen him with his own two eyes.  

After swimming, Hassan and Brandon returned home, both following the smell of freshly baked cookies to the kitchen where you were listening to Christmas music and preparing to ice some sugar cookies.

“Hi Mumma,” your chirpy son sang as he ran up to you for a kiss and a hug hello.  

“Hi my son,” you said as you picked him up, “how was swimming?”

“Good, daddy forgot to take his glasses off again,” he reported back to you with another kiss.  

“Did he now?” you asked as Brandon came up behind you and rested a hand on your belly.  He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and naturally you leant back into him.  

In both your hearts a sense of warmth grew while looking at the little human you’d created.  It was moments like this that reminded you of what home felt like.  Home was their smile that really was just the same.  Home was their laughs that again, was one and the same.  Home was the warmth of Brandon’s arms around you and waking up to the call of Mumma.   

“The kid saw Santa eating your cookies last night,” Brandon said quietly to you once he’d run off to his room to play before lunch.  

You raised your eyebrows at Brandon and thought over what he’d said, your hand subconsciously rubbing your belly.  

“Should I be offended he thought I was Santa Claus?” You asked as Brandon’s hand joined yours on your belly where inside, a little baby girl was growing.  

You were decently pregnant at that point, almost 30 weeks and though Hassan knew there was a baby in there, he wasn’t fully aware of your belly.  Like most young kids, he didn’t notice when your bump first became visible and when you decided to tell him he was having a baby sister, he was genuinely surprised to see it.  

You’d told him when you were 5 months, simply because you thought he might have noticed.  Even after you’d told him, he forgot about your belly, often seeming very surprised when he walked in on you putting lotion over your bump.  He’d just stop and stare in the doorway as if you were an alien.  It was quite funny and he hated touching the belly unless sissy, as he called her, would kick first.  

Both you and Brandon had had the same thought upon learning your boy thought you were Santa Claus.  You’d had the fridge open and the light from it must’ve created a silhouette.  With your Christmas-themed nightshirt, it wouldn’t have been a far stretch for him to see you as Santa.  It would’ve only been for a moment too, you weren’t down there that long.  

The week before Christmas was the week where Hassan made a very upsetting discovery.  He no longer fit comfortably on your lap and his evening cuddles weren’t the same when he wasn’t in your lap.  He loved his Dad but his cuddles weren't the same.  Given he’d always been a Mumma’s boy it was a new experience for the whole family.

Brandon had made a smart comment about it one evening once he’d fallen asleep cuddled into his Daddy.  You were sitting on the couch next to them but instead of watching the movie Hassan had chosen, you were watching your belly as baby had the hiccups.  

“If I knew this was the way to get this kid to be a daddy’s boy, I would’ve knocked you up sooner.” 

You smiled at him before standing up to get a little closer to Brandon, tilting his chin up with your index finger when you reached his side.  You pressed a small kiss to his nose and gave him a cheeky smile.

“Can’t change a Mumma’s boy, Honey.  He’ll be back to me when he can fit in my lap again,” you winked which made Brandon laugh quietly.  You kissed him and then the top of Hassan’s head, your hand gently fixing his messy curls.

“She’s gonna be a daddy’s girl,” he commented as you stepped away from him, “I can feel it.  She always kicks when I sing to her.”

“Baby she kicks whenever I see you for the exact same reason Hassan kicked whenever I saw you,” you replied smartly and exited to the kitchen.

Three nights before Christmas, you woke up with baby resting on your bladder, as she so often was.  After you’d used the bathroom, you made your way down to the kitchen to find something to satisfy your cravings.

Halfway through a warm cookie and a glass of oat milk, you heard the unmistakable pitter-patter of your son’s sleepy feet.  

“‘Zat you, Santa Claus?” His timid voice rang out as he held his plushy named Pookie to his chest.  

The sight of Pookie always made you smile, triggering one of your favourite memories from Hassan’s first year.  

Brandon had bought it for him before he left for his first tour post-baby.  Every night for two weeks straight he slept with the plush elephant, refusing to cuddle you during this time in case it compromised his scent on the toy.  He had read online that giving your child something that carried your scent while you were gone would help them remember you and could help when they were missing you. 

It worked wonders, whenever Hassan was crying or crawling around looking for his Papa, Pookie was able to calm him and put him to sleep.  

Now, he refused to sleep without it and if Pookie was ever missing, he would throw a fit.  It was the reason why your first date night when Brandon had gotten back from tour had gone so wrong.  Brandon’s sister had called you an hour into your dinner date asking about Pookie and where it could be.  It cut the date short, but seeing Brandon swoop in to save the day reminded you of why you loved him so much.

“It’s just Mama, Honey,” you said softly after placing your glass down on the bench.

“Oh I thought Santa was back for more cookies,” he walked over to you slowly, rubbing his eye with one hand while reaching up for you with the other.

“He’s probably really busy right now,” you said as you picked him up, his body wrapping around you tightly.  “In just a couple days, he’ll be flying all around the world delivering gifts to all those who have been good this year.”

“I would come here ‘fore flying all ‘round the world just for your cookies, Mummy,” he said with his hand playing with the ends of your hair, sleep dripping through every word he spoke.  “And for your kisses.  I love your kisses Mummy.”

You rubbed his back as he picked his head up and puckered his lips to you.  You kissed him and let him rest his head again before you started to put your food away.  You could feel him falling asleep in your warmth so you carefully walked back up to his room.  

When you got back to yours and Brandon’s room you broke down into tears.  Brandon woke up instantly and wrapped his arms around you, not even questioning your tears.  This wasn’t the first time you’d cried randomly and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last.  

Of course, this time was because of how sweet your boy was, not because of a photo of a kitty in a cup that had set you off the last time.  He rocked you back to sleep, pressing kisses to your forehead every now and again. 

Christmas Eve rolled around and you all spent the afternoon in the kitchen making cookies for Santa.  Hassan had insisted on a to-go bag so Santa could stock up since he obviously loved your cookies.  He asked as well if he could leave a note to ask him which milk he preferred, almond, oat or soy?  You wrote it neatly and left boxes for Santa to check.

Once Hassan was in bed and actually asleep, Brandon greeted you downstairs in his Santa costume.  

“Whatchu think baby?” he asked as he spun in a circle in front of you, giving you a few poses while you took him in.

“You honestly look more like Santa this year than last.”

He leant down over you to kiss you, but you stopped him with a hand before he could get too close, “take the beard off or I will not kiss you.”

He obeyed, pulling it down and kissing you softly.  “Get your pretty ass upstairs, I’ll meet you up there once I’m done.”  

Usually, you’d put out the presents together but since Brandon was Santa and Hassan was fully convinced he’d seen Santa a few weeks prior, it was best you weren’t involved.  

He was almost done setting up the presents when he heard the familiar footsteps of his son.  Brandon quickly prepared himself, once again going over what he’d agreed with you and Edwin was the perfect way to greet and speak to his boy.  He turned to face him and was greeted by the heart-melting grin of excitement and the giggle he’d stolen from his father.

“You’re up late,” Brandon said in his best jolly-Santa voice.  

Hassan just smiled up at him and nodded his head, the glint in his eyes not going unnoticed, “I really wanted to see you,” he whispered excitedly.

It took everything for Brandon to not crack right then and there and scoop his son up into a hug.  There had been very few times he’d seen his kid this excited and happy. 

“Well, I don’t usually meet those I deliver too but it’s really nice meeting you, Hassan,” he placed a hand on his faux belly as he crouched down so he was closer to the boy’s height.  “You’ll have to thank your Mumma for these to-go cookies for me, it’s a brilliant gift, I’m very grateful.”

Hassan was practically beaming at his words, holding Pookie tight to his chest, “I told Mumma to make more for you!  I saw you when you were here a few weeks ago.”

“Then I must thank you too, Son.”

“And don’t forget to save some for Mrs Claus too, ‘member sharing is caring, Santa.”  

Brandon could tell Hassan was done talking now, his body language unmissable to him.  He stood still for a moment, a look of thought of his face that Brandon always insisted was the exact face you made, before running up to him.  He threw his little arms around Brandon’s shoulders and hugged him tightly.  

“You have a good nights rest now, Hassan,” Brandon said after he peeled himself off of him.  They waved to one another and he began to make his way back out of the room.

He stopped and turned to look back at him, “you smell like my Daddy.”

“I gifted him his cologne many years ago and now it’s my favourite too.”  Brandon didn’t miss a beat, feeling rather proud of himself when his son accepted it and made his way back upstairs.

Brandon plopped himself down on the couch once he heard the bedroom door click shut and took a moment to breathe.  He could feel the overwhelming pressure building in his chest and the slight prickle behind his eyes.  He knew it was because of his son but he had no idea why it had come on so strong at that time.  

After 30 minutes, he made his way back up to you to find you in bed with headphones on your ears and your belly, reading.  He approached your side of the bed and leant over you for a kiss but you stopped him.

“Take the beard off,” you said not even looking up from your book.

He giggled a little as he stood back up to remove it.  Truthfully, he’d forgotten he was wearing it, it felt quite nice on his face.  He decided to strip himself of the Santa suit and fake belly before he kissed you, wanting more than anything to just get into bed beside you.

“Why have you been crying?” You asked when he rested his head in your lap, his fingers dancing over your belly.

“That kid of ours was so excited to see Santa,” he replied nonchalantly, his eyes never leaving your belly where your little girl had just started kicking.  

You started running your fingers through his hair while his lips pressed against your skin.  “You knew he would be my love.”

“You know what the one thing he chose to say at that moment was?” he asked as he sat up a bit so your eyes met.  

You shook your head, obviously having no idea though you thought it would be along the lines of ‘I love you very much.’

“He reminded Santa, or me, to share with Mrs Claus because sharing is caring.”  You giggled a little thinking about your excited kid telling a fully grown man to share cookies with his wife. 

You tapped Brandon’s chin so he’d bring his face up to meet yours as always.  You pecked his nose before kissing him, you hand cupping his face gently.

“That’s why you were crying?”

“That and he knows what I smell like,” Brandon replied as he began to get comfortable under the covers.  

You both started getting ready for bed, you put all your things away and turned out the light while Brandon took off his glasses and cleaned them as he did most nights.  It was late, past 1 at that point and you were both exhausted. 

“I’m thinkin’ a 6 am wake up call,” you said to Brandon as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his hand on your belly.  

“Yeah nah, that kid don’t know what sleep is on a normal day,” he replied with a kiss to the top of your head.

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

With one last kiss, you and Brandon went off to sleep knowing in a few short hours, you’d be waking up to a very excited baby boy. 

•••

a/n: thank you for reading!!  Happy Holidays, sending you all love and luck for the new year and always 🎄🎄

[brattonez]

The Pay Off | Prologue

“Nick, go over the plan again. Edwin seems confused.” 

Nicholas inhales deeply and lets out a long sigh. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” He mumbles before standing up from the kitchen island he was previously leaning on. “Listen,” He starts, putting his hands in his jean pockets. “That son of bitch deserves to get socked in the face. But, if we do that, we’re going to jail so, this is our way of getting revenge.” 

Brandon scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Guys, I understand you’re angry. You have every right to be. But, this...this is a bit out of reach.” Zion sucks his teeth. “Fuck that.” He coldy states, sitting up in his chair. “Being in college is stressful enough. Working at a bank and barely getting paid just added more pressure. But this.....THIS...?” Austin shakes his head in disbelief as Zion continues his angry rant. “Imagine working that hard for a paycheck that barely helps with anything in your life only to find out that some greedy rich son of bitch is literally STEALING-” 

“Zion, calm down.” Brandon interrupted. 

“NO.” The dreadhead barked back. “That son of bitch was stealing money right from under us. And it wasn’t just me and Nick. It was all of the other employees too. Bro, there’s old people who need the money to live that he’s stealing from. Do you not understand how fucked up that is?” Zion ends his rant shakily. His body is tense and his skin is a light shade of pink. “He deserves everything that he’s about to get.” Nick added, getting ready to explain the procedure to the boys for the 2nd time. “So, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Nick brought out the blueprint of the bank that he had stole from the office days before. He carefully explained each position the boys would be assigned to and how important each one was towards the goal. 

“Austin, we all now you’re tech savvy. So, your job is to hack the cameras and control any technological obstacles in our way. No information goes out the building. No signals, no alarms, nothing.”

“Edwin, you can finally put your....attitude to good use. Cause a distraction in the bank. So random ass argument that’ll catch the attention of everyone. Your hair already looks like a bag of skittles, so it shoudn’t be that hard to catch some eyes.”

“Brandon, since you and me are the only ones that drive. And I already have a position. You’re gonna be the Get Away. You are in charge of getting us away from the heat when shit gets intense.”

The three boys stood still and took in the details they were just explained. Nick and Zion stared at them, waiting for a response. Austin steps up first and speaks. “I’m in.” He shakes hands with Zion and smiles. Brandon follows suit. Edwin walks up to Nick and hugs him. The Italian boy is confused, but hugs him back anyway. With a smile and a scoff, Edwin implored. “I will gladly accept the offer to be involved in our one way ticket to jail.” Zion laughs and clasps his hands together, inhaling deeply. 

“Good. Let’s get started then.”

[pm-my-hubbies]

Hi Lovelies!

I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve really posted on here but I’m trying to get back into writing now as it’ll play a HUGE part in my career.

For those of you that are fans for my Austin Porter series, Mother Knows Best, I’ve created a group chat for you all to help me work on the third part. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve deleted the draft for this particular segment in the series but just know that I’ve done it one too many times and I’m frustrated at this point.

Anywho, the group chat is for you all to shoot some ideas my way on what you want/expect to be in the third part. Whatever you put out will definitely make a huge impact on this fic and I will make sure to give you all credit for helping me out.

If you’d like to join the group chat, the name is literally titled Mother Knows Best (3)...? I know, it’s not original but I couldn’t come up with anything else. Also, you don’t have to join the chat just for the sake of giving me ideas; this can be our little friend group chat and after I finish this part of the series, I might change the name depending on who wants to stick around.

Love you all!💕

[nicks-mara]

enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers! enemies to lovers!

[thotwonu]

Are you guys gonna do a part two of F.U?

yes. but FAIR WARNING: it ain't a happy ending because we don't tolerate cheaters in this household.

[sadgurllayha]

Drop A Bag On My Baby- Zion.K

A/N- Heyyyy this was a request from my bby @ts20kuwonu​, she wanted a shopping with Zion blurb so here it is, my request are currently open even though I’m a little behind so don't forget to send me an ask with whatever you want to see😁💖

Word Count- 

Song Rec- 

Your boyfriend nicknamed you a thief, now was this offensive YES but was it wrong... not completely. The only little things you did steal were clothes, HIS clothes to be exact but only because you didn’t love your closet as much as his, and his clothes just fit so right and smelled like that cologne you bought for your anniversary. Thinking that these reasons could justify your thievery, this is what you explained to Zion who currently had his eyebrow quirked to you as he tied his dreads back. 

“So your telling me.. that the reason you wear MY STUFF.. is because you don’t like the clothes YOU bought for YOURSELF?”

“Babe come on don’t say it like that it makes me feel dumb, im just saying my style has changed and I seem to just like styling your clothes a lot more than mine thats all...”

You continuously rub his knuckles with your small hand and straddle his lap to be persuading. 

“Look Z, if it really bothers you that much I just won’t wear your stuff cause I don’t want this to be a problem ‘kay? I can just go shopping with Y/BF/N and Maggie maybe eve-”

Gently Nudging you to the side, Z gets up and pushes your bedroom door open, leaving you confused. When he comes back with car keys you still have no idea what’s going on.

“I don’t have not one problem or even HALF a problem with you wearing my stuff baby, but your my baby and my job is to spoil the hell out of you, and that’s what I’m finna do... get your bag and meet me in the car, we bout to spend some moneyyyy”

Chuckling at your boyfriends excited behavior, you hustle to get everything before locking the apartment door. Before you could even get to the mall you knew you where for something when you asked what mall you guys were going to as you passed the entrance to the one that’s your normal spot. But LORDT JESUS this thang was nothing like you ever seen!

Right away, you notice two things about this mall. One, its bigger than the presidents MANSION, and two, everyone here looks like they belong on a vogue freakin cover... except you. Starting to feel insecure around the model-esque women, you huddle into your boyfriends side allowing him to guide you. 

The first store is some local grunge spot. Think E-boys on CRACK, this must be where Brandon and Maggie shop, you think to yourself. From there on he takes you to every store and watches what you look at, even if it’s a hint of a longing glance, Zion picks it up. By the end of the day you have four people walking you guys out and loading bags, from all over in the trunk. 

Driving on the highway, you complain to Z that you think he spent to much money and went a little crazy, and that your just one person how can you wear sooooo many clothes! 

“Listen to me, your my world, the moon and the stars girl, I don't care if I go broke or if I can’t EAT tomorrow, when it comes to you,

Imma drop a BAG, on MY baby....

[angelicarreaga]

Calm | B.A

Requested by my love @the-headass

Summary: Y/n gets nervous about having to say a speech at her sister’s wedding, and Brandon is the only one who can help

1.38k words

A/n: First full length pm imagine! I hope you guys like it! :)

Your eyes scanned over the pieces of paper for the hundredth time, overthinking every single word choice for a speech that was so important.

“That’s stupid,” you mumbled quietly to yourself before crossing a sentence out and scribbling above it, letting out a loud sigh.

The wedding was a week away, and you still sat there analyzing your speech, not even sure if you would be capable of saying it in front of so many people.

Your hand reached for your phone, opening it to find no messages. This was one of those moments where you could really use Brandon’s words of encouragement, but he wasn’t here, thus leaving you alone with your thoughts and fears.

“I’m totally gonna screw this up,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands.

You heard footsteps enter your room, and you lifted your gaze to meet that of your sister, the bride to be, who leaned against the door frame of your bedroom.

“I don’t know if I can do this! It’s probably horribly written and I’m gonna choke and mess up when I’m trying to say it,” you rambled, folding the paper in your hand so that she couldn’t see what you wrote.

“It’s gonna be amazing, Y/n. Anything you say will be amazing, don’t worry,” she smiled, running her hand through your hair quickly before sitting down next to you.

“I just feel so stupid I can’t even say a stupid maid of honor speech,” you laughed in spite of yourself, shaking your head.

“What usually calms you down when you have to do stuff like this?” your sister questioned, wanting to help you in any way possible.

“Brandon,” you admitted, your voice low, “he just makes me feel at ease, like everything is okay when he’s there, but he’s not here.”

“You’re gonna kill it, Y/n, I know you will,” she smiled before leaving her room, pulling her phone out quickly before dialing Brandon’s number, his voice on the other end almost immediately.

“Hey,” he said, his smile audible from the other line.

“Hey Brandon, I know you’re on tour right now, so this is probably really stupid to ask, but are you guys able to reconsider coming to the wedding? Y/n is really anxious and I think having you guys there would help her a lot,” she explained, her fingers crossed at her side, feeling hopeful.

“It’s next week, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, the Saturday,” she replied, waiting in silence as he talked incoherently to whoever was around him.

“I think we could spare a day,” he answered happily, making your sister grin as she thanked him and hung up, skipping back to her room.

Your hands shook at your sides as you waited for your turn to say your speech. Your parents had already gone, and your speech came before the best man’s.

You walked up to the microphone, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes before starting, the paper vibrating in your hand as you began to speak.

“Ever since we were kids, Y/S/N and I always dreamed of marrying a prince,” you began, looking up and looking through the crowd, your breath hitching in your throat when you recognized Brandon and the boys, huge grins on their faces.

“You got this,” Brandon mouthed to you, shooting you a thumbs up.

A huge smile broke onto your face, and your hands stopped shaking, the sight of Brandon lowering your heart rate as you continued to speak, the words flowing freely from your mouth, without cracking, wavering, or stuttering.

Everyone cheered when you finished, the boys louder than everyone else, your eyes never breaking from them, happiness flowing through your veins as you stepped aside, squeezing your sister’s hand.

After you took photos, it was time to head back to the reception, where Brandon and the boys would be waiting for you.

You basically ran there, despite the fact that you were in heels, the wind rippling through your dress as you entered the room, your eyes landing on Brandon immediately, who stood up when he saw you.

You ran to him, wrapping your arms around him as you squeezed him tightly.

“You’re here,” you squealed, Brandon rocking you back and forth as he held you.

“I’m here,” he confirmed.

“What about tour?” you asked.

“We pulled some strings,” he shrugged, “you look beautiful, baby,” he added, his lips pressing against yours.

“Look at you guys all dressed up,” you grinned, hugging all the other boys individually, your cheeks starting to hurt because of how much you were smiling.

All of you sat down, waiting for the reception to start, Brandon’s hand on your lap, resting on top of yours.

“Your speech was amazing,” he complimented, kissing your cheek.

“Thanks, B. I think you were the reason for that,” you admitted, squeezing his hand under the table, “you make me feel calm.”

“I’m sure you could have done it without me, but I had to come and be here for my girl,” he smirked, kissing you again.

“You guys are gross,” Zion cringed jokingly, throwing his napkin at you, making you burst out laughing.

“Zion, it probably took so long to fold these fancy napkins,” you teased, throwing it back at him.

After the first dance and a few upbeat songs, the Dj played a slow song for all the other couples.

Brandon stood up, extending his arm out toward you as you took his hand, him leading you to the dance floor.

His hands found your waist and you rested your arms around his neck, swaying back and forth as you stared at each other, cheesy grins dancing across both of your faces.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you smiled, resting your head on his chest as you continued to dance.

“I had to come,” he smiled, kissing your temple.

He took your hand, twirling you around, making you throw your head back in laughter, Brandon’s hand in yours as you continued to dance.

You placed your hands on both sides of his face, bringing him closer to you as you pressed your lips to his, the melody of the song in the background making it feel almost magical.

You both pulled away, pecking his lips one more time.

“I love you, B,” you whispered, running your fingers along the sleeve of his suit, admiring how good he looked in it.

“I love you,” he said, swaying back and forth with you, the love both of you felt for each other almost overwhelming.

Your heart wanted to explode when you looked at him, and you couldn’t believe that you were lucky enough to be with someone like Brandon. Little did you know, he felt the exact same way about you, in awe of you every day.

The song finished and Brandon dipped you jokingly, both of your laughs echoing loudly.

“I should go find my sister, I’ll be back,” you told him, kissing his cheek, holding into his hand for as long as possible as you walked away, finding your sister who looked absolutely stunning.

You pulled her in for a tight hug, tears welling up in your eyes at the sight of her.

“Thank you so much,” you told her, both her hands in yours.

“Anything for my baby sister. You did amazing, my favorite speech,” she grinned.

“You’re just saying that,” you brushed it off, hugging her again.

“Congratulations again, I’m so happy for you. You look so beautiful and everything is perfect. You deserve this, sis. Your perfect life is what you should have, and I think it’s starting today,” you told her.

“I love you, Y/n,” she smiled, hugging you again as you both spun around.

The MC announced that dinner was about to be served, and you lifted your eyebrows as you looked back at your sister.

“Go back to your lover boy, cutie,” she teased, pushing your shoulder lightly as you rolled your eyes, going back to your table with the boys and the other bridesmaids and groomsmen.

You took your seat next to Brandon, your heart swelling by all the love you were feelings today.

“I love weddings,” you sighed, all the boys chuckling and agreeing with you as you began to ate, the great night only just beginning.

[austinshairbrush]

My Girl pt 2

A/n: I have a lot of smut requests but I really wanna do fluff. This isn’t fluff but it does have Brandon with a baby so win win!

Warning: none really. Cursing, angst, I wouldn’t call Charlotte a bitch but some if you may not like her.

After introductions, Brandon invited you into the house. His girlfriend fixed you guys tea while you and him caught up. 

“And her name is.. Kamil- Kaminah?” He let her play with his finger, and smiled down at her. She gnawed on his finger listening to your conversation. “Yea. Kaminah Nevaeh Arreaga.” You looked at him. It’s only been five minutes and they were already bonding. He was so attached to her already and or made your heart swell. “Arreaga?” “Yea. I mean she is your daughter. She deserves to have your name.” He pulled back from her. “How did this happen?” “Well when people have sex, the man-” “No no no, I know how it happens, but how am I the father?” He laughed. “Oh, well I haven’t had sex with anyone besides you around that time. Didn’t have a boyfriend, nothing. You were the only person I slept with. When you left, I looked around for a condom. I looked everywhere!” You laughed, continuing “I found it, and thought I was safe. A month and ten pregnancy tests later I was pregnant.” Brandon shook his head “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve called, slid in my dms, something.” You let out a breathe “Because you’re in a band! I fuckin boy band! Do you know how they would drag you in the media? Drag me? I couldn’t do that to you. Do you know what you said after-?” You guys turned your head towards Charlotte. “Tea is done.” “Uh thank you Charlotte.”you siped the tea, and crosses your legs. “No problem. Now why the fuck are you here?”  “Charlotte, please-” “No, Brandon! This groupie comes into our house with some random child claiming it’s yours! This doesn’t make any sense.” You got up and she followed. “Hol up hol up! I ain’t some groupie! Your man came into my club and wanted me! Me! And yea we had sex. But it was one time, and he even told me he was in a break. You know why? Cause he loves you! No man just announces he’s  on break before sex, they just fuck! I just came here cause it’s not fair for him not to know he doesn’t have a child, and for her to grow up without a father!” “So what? You expect for him to just fall in love with her and realize that he’s in love with you too? And leave?” Brandon had enough. “Be quiet both of you! You’re upsetting my daughter!” He went to pick her up a call her down. You smiled. “Your daugter?” You went over next to him to stop the baby from crying, making baby noises. Charlotte saw red. “I want you to take a test. Just to make sure.” Walking away from your baby “I told you, Brandon is the only man I’ve been with.” Charlotte rolled her eyes “I don’t care! When she gets a little older have her and Brandon to take a test.” Brandon intervened “Baby that’s not your decision. If y/n says this is my child then this is-” “No it’s ok Brandon. Fine we’ll do a test.” You smirked. ““How do I know this isn’t a way for you to get Brandon for yourself?” 

“Cause if I wanted him, I would have him. In my house. In my bed. In me.”

[glossedchaos]

on my way remains the superior song on prettymuch an ep

[bluewatersfairy]

the morning after 

little disclaimer: i no longer write or support p*, but this has been sitting in my drafts for two months and it’s nameless.  this can be for whoever you want it to be.

a/n: another nameless (brandon) piece, still getting used to writing like this

synopsis: the morning after a hard night

warnings: angst, implied drug use & violence (but not really)

word count: circa 990 

•••

headache, cotton-mouth and heavy.  it never used to be the norm but now it seemed like it was.  

his bedsheets were a mess, his pant leg still hanging on at his ankle, caught in the shoe he couldn’t get off.  he didn’t feel like himself, more like a lost shell of the man he loved to be.  

his arm reached out beside him as he turned, hoping to find a warm body.  her warm body.  he had faint memories of her floating around from the night before and she wasn’t one to leave his side.  forever his caretaker, forever his lover.  but the bed beside him was cold and untouched.  

slowly, he sat up.  a surge of pain shot from the front of his head down his neck and across his shoulders.  his lower back ached, as did his feet when he stood from his bed.  he needed water and something to take away his pain.

scoping a handful of water into his mouth, he barely recognised himself in his bathroom mirror.  his hair looked flat and filthy.  dark circles framed his eyes and a fresh gash lined the front of his lip.  he brushed his index finger gently over the cut, only to see his bruised and cut knuckles in the mirror.

last night… what happened last night?

he pondered the thought, turning to the shower and letting the water run.  steam filled the room but his eyes stayed trained to his naked body’s reflection in the mirror.  bruises dotted black and purple over his body.  the healing tattoo on his ribs was untouched, still a secret.

under a steady stream of hot water, thoughts and memories began to clear enough for him to see through them.  he remembered going out the night before, a party that he’d found last minute.  she’d shown up just as he was leaving, something about having to talk but he just walked straight past her.  if it was important enough she’d come out with him.  she never did anymore but that night was different. 

he knew it had to be important whatever she had to say but he couldn’t remember it.  why couldn’t he think?

the water stung against the exposed wounds on his arms, a sharp intake bringing his hand up to cover them.  they were nail scratches.  he traced them, willing himself to remember.  

“i need to talk to you.”

her voice echoed around the shower, his gaze rising from the tiled floors to the white wall in front of him.  he could almost see her in the steam.  she wore her work attire and a sadden look.  her bottom lip chapped and swollen.

he tilted his head back into the water and let it wash over him as more memories flooded back.

he didn’t want to talk to her, no matter how much she pleaded.  but she was persistent and got him alone in the room of a stranger.

“cmon baby, i just wanna have fun.  can’t this wait?”

she didn’t let him push past her, closing the door the second he got it open.  she wanted his attention, wanted him to look her in the face and listen.  but he wouldn’t.  the only thing on his mind was what awaited him on the other side of the door.  there was fun to be had and the room they were secluded in smelt like despair.

“i don’t think i love you anymore.”

how could he forget that?

he came to sit on the tiled floor, heart breaking as her words swirled around him in constant and repetitive circles.  

how could he forget that?

alcohol and god knows what else was the answer.  how long he was at that house, he had no idea.  he could remember leaving.  the hands on his body that forced him out, the shouts of discomfort and disappointment floating after him in his unclear state.  

“you don’t pay attention to me anymore.  you don’t even see me anymore.”

“that’s not true.  i’m looking at you right now, i see you.”

he held his palms to his temples.  hot, angry tears fell down his face, the salt mixing with the water that pelted down on him.  he needed to remember, did she really say that?  did she really not love him anymore?

“you don’t and you haven’t for a long time.  the only time you’re really paying attention to me is when you lay me down and even then, your hands are cold on my body.  you can’t pretend that you don’t feel the same way as me.  i see you baby, i always have.”

he ached, his body unable to support or cope with the physical pain that had surged through every muscle.  

he seized up.  he yelled.  he cried.  

he loved her.  he said it over and over again.  he loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

she was every part of him, the best part of him.  he loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

he cried.  he yelled.  he hurt.

she was written in every song.  she was tattooed on his body.  she was weaved in his egyptian sheets.  she was painted on the shower’s walls.  

it couldn’t be true.  he refused it as the truth.  

a green towel hung low of his hips as he moved around his room.  his hair let droplets fall over his carpet but he didn’t care.  he needed his phone, wherever it was.  

he texted her, called her, only to receive an automated voice message.  she was no longer reachable and a surge of red had him throwing his phone across the room.  he’d never felt a pain like this.  the cuts and bruises on his body were evidence.

he loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he said over and over again.

but she didn’t love him, she didn’t love him, she didn’t love him anymore.

[cupidarreaga]

i promise i’m gonna post chapter two of THE HUB soon but in the mean time look at my baby 🥺