#but still!!! that's my baby it is one year old :)
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thepolyamorouspolymath · 2 days ago
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In 2012, healthcare was all over the US election debate bc Obama care was new, and I had 4 kids and chronic conditions in the family in every direction and I'm sitting at a party, talking about it to this 22 year old, doing shots with him as he explained how he didn't really get why it was being made such a big deal, and I'm like yeah, bc you still have your parents insurance and bc you're 22 so probably in pretty good health overall. Do you know how much it costs to have a baby? To vaccinate said baby?
(It was awesome until half my friends decided we must be hooking up bc we were talking for hours... in full view, 5 feet apart about a damn policy debate which isn't generally considered sexy.)
But no, that part never occurred to him, because he'd been taught, like all Americans NOT TO HAVE ANYTHIJG OCCUR TO HIM. It's not that Americans inherently lack empathy, because they don't. It's that from birth on we are told not to worry our collective pretty heads about anything because our country is special and perfect and a shining city on hill bullshit and of course there must be things to help people who need it!
I'm one of the most politically aware people I know, and have been for decades. And I regularly still find myself forgetting to ask "what state do you live in?" When someone has a problem because Illinois has problems but they have more help than a lot of places.
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bbydoll18xx · 1 day ago
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A Glorious Sunrise
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There’ll be happiness. Paige makes sure of it.
Paige Bueckers x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.2k
Themes: angst with a happy ending, paige is flirty and i love her for it
A/N: hiii i've been MIA but i'm back and omg guys i lowkey kinda love this. this song has been my hyperfixation for the past two months and i've been dying to write a fic to happiness but i didn't want it to be paige-angst so this is what i came up with instead.
also i'm lowkey exposing myself with this fic, and i clearly need therapy sooo PLZ BE NICE
please enjoy and lemme know what you think ;)
~
A single tear slides down your cheek as you close the last box of your belongings, landing on the brown cardboard with a wet plop of harsh finality. You gaze around the room, which is now nearly empty, and a sob that you had been suppressing all day manages to break through your normally tough exterior. 
Seven years of love and laughter gone just like that.
And now, here you were, dividing all of your shit into boxes and contemplating if this feeling was even worth the seven years in heaven. 
The empty space where the bed once stood leaves a lump in your throat. Images of being pulled into a warm, strong chest every night bombard your consciousness, and you turn away, unable to stomach it any longer.
It was a simple story, really. 
You and Jake were high school sweethearts, turned college sweethearts. He had taken you to prom and twirled you around in a sparkly, pink dress. He had taken your virginity, and you had imagined your entire life together with bright, starry eyes. 
College was spent between your dorm rooms, crammed into twin beds and talking about kids and houses with white picket fences. You had moved in together after college, and the two of you were blissfully in love.
But last week, Jake had come home late at night with empty eyes and shaky hands, and he had quietly told you that he was done. 
And in the blissfulness of being in love, the words did not even register for a moment. 
You were still dancing when the music stopped. And the world went cold, the sunshine in your life suddenly burnt out like a candle that was blown out by a bitter wind. The smoke was engulfing your cold frame, curling around you in dark, taunting tendrils.
You shiver now, looking back on it all. Your sweatshirts were all packed already, and instinctively, you go to the closet to grab one of Jake’s. 
The realization hits you like a truck, and you stop in your tracks. What is his is no longer yours.
He is no longer yours. 
Fuck. 
No one had taught you what to do when a good man hurts you, so you were going to pick yourself up piece by piece.
~
“Baby, please just listen t’me,” Jake slurs, his voice coming through the speaker of your phone in loud, drunken drawls, causing you to wince. It was the first night in your new apartment, and you were already struggling with the fact that it was just you and the four walls that surrounded you. 
Your voice wavers as you try to remain level headed. “No. I’m not doing this anymore,” you whisper. The other line is silent for a moment, and you think he has given up. But the delicate swoon of a woman’s voice cuts through the phone, and your stomach lurches with both dread and anger. 
It had been a week, and here he was, filling the divide with random women. 
Well, two could play that game. 
It didn’t take long to fall back into old habits. As they say, old habits die screaming, and it had become nearly impossible for you to hold back from the distraction the steady stream of men and women provided. 
It was deeply unhealthy, and you knew it. Once they would leave, you’d seek solace in the steaming shower where the water both hid your tears and washed away the filth of last night’s activities that had lingered on your soft skin. 
No matter how hard you scrubbed, you could not manage to rid yourself of the bruises and the overwhelming shame that seeped out of every pore.
Your body, which was once worshipped with soft kisses and gentle touches, was quickly becoming a way to numb the pain of having the rug pulled out from under you. Dark marks litter your skin in swirling, chaotic patterns that remind you of how little worth you have.
And in the darkness, the cruelest words taunt your inner psyche.
‘Maybe this is all I'm good for anymore.’
~
Those very words echo in your mind as you stumble into your apartment building on an unseasonably warm morning in April. The doorman gives you a sly look as he notices last night's mascara caked into the waterline of your eyes, smudged from the long night and the rough sex that followed.
You duck your head, wanting to disappear, and you hurry through the lobby, wanting to get out of the sparkly dress that was still adorning your body.
You reach the elevator, pressing the button to go up impatiently. The doors open, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Wait! Hold up, I’m coming,” a voice shouts, and you turn to look in the direction of the girl.
It was like a scene out of one of those ridiculous hallmark movies. Blonde hair gleams in the early morning sun, reflecting off of the large glass windows of the lobby. The girl’s blue eyes shine with amusement as you stare up at her, momentarily forgetting your desire to remain unnoticed. 
She steps into the enclosed space with you, and you let out a shaky breath. Her presence was intoxicating, and it was quickly becoming very apparent that you looked like a goddamn mess.
“Fun night?” She asks with a teasing lilt to her voice, and you blush.
“Not really,” you say blandly, surprised by your own candor. “But it was a good distraction.”
The girl studies you, her eyes raking over your collarbone where a large hickey now resided. 
“I’m Paige,” she says, and you tell her your name as the flush extends over your chest, settling into it.
“I’m in apartment 555. Let me know if you ever want to talk,” she winks, walking out of the elevator. “Or if you need a healthier distraction,” she adds over her shoulder right as the doors close. 
Your face blooms with color again, and your belly erupts in the feeling of excitement. 
Because in that moment, you had unconsciously decided to leave it all behind. 
For there was a glorious sunrise looming over the black hills that had risen in your heart, blanketing a warmth you hadn’t felt in months. And her name was apparently Paige. 
Paige was on the forefront of your mind all day, and you welcome the giddiness, inviting it into your heart like an old friend.
A new motivation pours into you as you walk into your apartment, the bare walls emulating the blandness you had been feeling since the breakup. Your eyes glance towards your storage closet, and without a second thought, you begin to decorate, the pieces of you that you once had to keep hidden were now proudly out on display. 
It was the first step to healing. And damn, did it feel good.
~
Healing is never a linear process. And as your thumb grazes over your phone screen, open to Tinder, your mind fights with your heart over falling back into bad habits. 
You huff, looking around to make sure no one watches you as you stand near the elevator waiting to go back home after the gym one afternoon. Your thumb swipes across a few profiles, almost instinctively, as you mindlessly scroll to find someone worthy of your time. 
You weren’t even going to fuck them this time, you tell yourself. You just needed a little attention to fill the void. 
If you repeat it enough times, surely it’ll start to ring true. 
“She’s cute. Why’d you swipe left?” A husky voice murmurs in your ear, and you jump, immediately closing out the app on your phone and whirl around to face the familiar sound.
“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Paige chuckles, looking you up and down, and you flush.
She just had that effect on you.
“If she’s so cute, why don’t you date her?” You ask, almost defensively, feeling the heat of her gaze. Damn her and those eyes.
“Prefer to meet pretty girls in person,” she smirks, clearly noticing the blush on your cheeks. 
“Did you think about my offer?”
You fight a smile. “Maybe,” you shrug, wanting to keep your cards close to your chest. Even if you had been internally fawning over her the past few weeks, she did not need to know that. 
Her smile widens, and you swear you can actually see a twinkle in her eye. 
“And…?” She goads, leaning in closer to you as the elevator opens, and she leads you in with a hand ghosting across the small of your back. 
“I just got out of a really long relationship,” you start to explain, faltering as she steps even closer into your space. 
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Her eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to yours, tracking your face expertly. 
“I–” you begin, her breath fanning over your face distracting you from being able to put words together. You lean in, your eyes nearly fluttering closed before the elevator pings and the door opens.
You suck in a breath, the realization slamming into you.
Paige squeezes your hip, as you look back up at her wide eyes. 
“8 tonight. Alright?” 
You nod dumbly, enthralled by the trance she had put you in. The elevator doors close, and you’re met with your own reflection staring back at you, and in the silver chrome, you watch your smile come back to life. 
~
You arrive at her door that night, your palms slick, and you wipe them on your pants just in case she holds your hand tonight.
You were lying if you said you hadn’t spent the entire day fantasizing about Paige. You had thought about the way her hair was tucked up in a bun this morning, practically begging you to take it out and run your hands through the soft, golden locks. And you had thought about how her pink, plush lips had formed into a smirk, making you want to tell your funniest jokes just to see the curve of her smile widen. 
You had thought about her hands and the way they had grazed across your skin, setting every nerve ending in your body ablaze with a feeling you hadn’t felt in months. 
All of the people you had hooked up with in your sickening conquest to forget about your ex-boyfriend could not hold a candle to Paige.
And that fucking terrified you. But here you were, at her door, ready to face whatever the universe was going to throw at you. 
There’ll be happiness. You just knew it. 
You shake your head, scolding yourself for the internal gay ramblings, and you knock, waiting for that gorgeous face to appear on the other side. 
The door opens, and your breath hitches as Paige smiles at you, reaching for your hand to pull you inside. 
Thank god you had wiped them off. 
“Welcome to my crib,” she jokes, leading you to sit on her couch.
You scan the room, surprised at how well it was decorated before landing back on her. 
Paige had sat next to you, drawing her legs up in a way that felt strangely intimate. She crosses her hands dramatically. “So, tell me why you’ve been using Tinder to cope.”
You splutter, not expecting her to be so blunt. 
“Damn, you don’t need to roast me,” you giggle, a faux pout on your lips, drawing Paige’s attention to them.
“Is it cuz of your ex?” She asks, and you nod.
“Yeah. I–I guess I just wanted to feel like I had some sort of worth still.”
Paige stares at you with a somber look on her face. She reaches up to cup your cheek, running her thumb across the smooth skin of your jaw. 
“You do. Promise,” she whispers genuinely, and the simplicity of her words rip every single bit of cautiousness from your body. 
And you lean in and kiss her. 
Your lips move in perfect synchronicity, like two dance partners who could see inside each other's minds. You lean into her touch, her hand coming up to rest on your waist, as you nearly squirm onto her lap.
She moans as your mouth opens, letting her fall into you, as two becomes one.
It was perfect and poetic, just as new beginnings tend to be. 
Time slows as you sit with each other, exploring and indulging before you finally pull away, your chest rising and falling in quick, staccato breaths.
Paige places a kiss onto your cheek, brushing her thumb across your lips to sweep away the extra spit that had accumulated amidst the sudden passion. 
“Well, I’d say that was a pretty successful first session, huh?” She teases.
“When’s the next one?” You ask, a giggle bubbling up in your chest, as you lean back into Paige, who just laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.
You were going to be just fine.
Paige would make sure of it.
~
welllll what'd you think?? thanks so much for reading
xoxo katy
~
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demonic0angel · 2 days ago
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Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.
“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”
Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.
"Jazz?" Jason called.
She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.
"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.
Jazz moved her head to side to side.
"Defective?"
"I've done ten of them, all the same."
But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.
Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.
Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."
"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.
"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.
(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)
Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”
Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.
Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”
“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.
She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”
Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.
“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”
Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”
“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”
Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”
“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.
Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”
Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”
“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”
Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”
Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.
If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.
Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.
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jenroses · 2 days ago
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applied fork theory:
So a constant, irritating drain on my energy has been an artifact of parenting my last baby, who is now 13 years old. That is, my bed was very close to the wall of our bedroom, moved out a little at one point (it was against the wall when he was tiny and cosleeping, to prevent falling off, but moved out later) and the dresser was at the foot of the bed, in order to make room for a couch in the room that is no longer in the room and hasn't been for ehhh 5 years?
So in order to get out of bed, I would have to scootch and climb across our memory foam mattress in order to get to the foot of the bed to get dressed and then work my way around The Stuff in order to get out of the bedroom.
I knew this was draining, but I didn't realize HOW draining.
One of hubby's presents to me was 20 hours of deep cleaning from a professional, and she brought a friend to use 7 of those hours (3 1/2 actual hours, but two people) to deep clean the room and then move the furniture around. Now my side of the bed is right next to the door, the dressers are to the SIDE of the bed which makes the whole room easier to navigate, and there's enough room for hubby to easily walk around the bed to get to his side of the bed. I can just... get out of bed?
I don't have to scootch? Or climb? Or roll across the entire width?
And suddenly I'm able to focus on other areas of the house.
I asked for hooks for hanging things by the front door for christmas, and my dad and my eldest put them up over the weekend, and I was like, "I have enough energy to get the coats up there" and suddenly the coats were off the Horrible Heap on the floor and I could see all the reusable grocery bags so I had someone take those out to the car and then we could see The Place Where Shoes Go To Die.
And I made everyone in the house put all the ones they weren't using anymore in a bag, and we found a shoe organizer in The Horrible Heap place, and now all the shoes are organized and there is no horrible heap anymore.
And then I looked at the dining room and one step at a time and asking people for help as needed, we got all the junk distributed and the tables clear and the 3d printer set up.
So over the course of about a week and a half, the house is suddenly much more livable and is not sucking so much of my energy. I'm still spending most of my time lying down, ME/CFS is not cured by a clean bedroom, but this morning I woke up after something like 10-12 hours of sleep (in a couple chunks, but still) and got dressed and went downstairs and got my breakfast and still had enough energy to make the kitchen less overwhelming and more usable. Not to actually do the dishes, but to make the dishes stacked, soaked where need be and not spread over every available surface of the kitchen, such that when someone more able than me goes in they will start with a mostly empty sink and some space to work.
Anyway, the point of all of this is that sometimes judicious application of help can have ripple effects through most of your life. Think about the things in your life that are making it harder than it has to be. Are they fixable? Is there someone who can help you with something highly specific? Maybe one of those people who said, "If you ever need anything, let me know..."
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withahappyrefrain · 2 days ago
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First off, this was beautiful. The relationship between Bradley and Smart Aleck is so amazing but also so realistic. Like their conversations are similar to ones I've had with my own husband. The chemistry is off the charts and I simply cannot get enough of them.
Also them being domestic?!?! Getting ready for a vacation?!?! My heart my heart!!
And now for my ramblings below:
But honestly it's so realistic that he fell asleep I don't blame him
Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 
IM ALREADY CRYING 😭
But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 
SIRRRRRR THE SWITCH??? from needing to cuddle her to THIS? Deceased.
“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 
I love them so much they're too cute your honor 😭😭😭
That tattoo gets me Everytime my heart breaks every time
He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”
😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Him making her an audiobook I'm dead. Not just because that's hot as hell, but also the fact he wants to do research into the dynamic and make it right/good for her????? Like???! Bradley Bradshaw, the man that you are!!!
God, he would love missionary for how close it lets him be. A romantic at heart! I love him. Also love how he's obsessed with her tits like yes girl, get it!
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This fic is making me feel much better about gaining some weight, thank you for your service
She's dimming the light?! Baby girl he loves you, he loves your body!!! 😭😭 I feel for her, I feel her so hard. Also I really love that you gave her a struggle that so many of us have gone through. Like your insecurities don't just magically vanish when you're in a loving relationship, it takes time and work and I know Smart Aleck will get there!
Stop shaking the thought away Bradley! God, he's so close, so freaking close to figuring it out!!! And in a way I like that it takes him time because that's realistic but I still want to shake them both
Her not knowing what to wear 😭😭 God this is hitting me so hard. And Bradley is just trying to be supportive!! Honestly surprised I haven't cried yet because I feel her so much
You've also convinced me that yes, Maverick is Bradley's dad. I love that smart Aleck has a relationship with him as well!
Bradley's right, if I met a 30 year old man who went by Teddy, it would be an immediate red flag. Also the way he's so protective of her and Amelia?! My heart can't take much more Jordan 😭😭
THE PHONE SEX?!?!?! JORDAN ELIZABETH (idk your middle name, I'm just inserting one bc holy shit that was hot and entirely too short God, do they need a third??? Asking for a friend).
“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 
THE WAY HE IS SO DESPERATE AND NEEDY FOR HER JORDAN I AM FERAL. FERAL!
Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 
OH MY GOD ITS THIS SCENE THE ONE YOU TALKED ABOUT
Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations.
Jake, that sounds like a personal problem my dude.
Hi, can I personally slap her mom?? Smart Aleck, Bradley loves your curves!! 😭😭I need the next part, I need Bradley to remind her she is more than her body, that he loves her no matter what size she is!!
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rocketman: part iii - Some things Cosmic
Summary: finally back home, bradley can focus on all the things he's missed while he's been gone. there's someone there to properly welcome him home, frantic reunion sex, prepping for an amazing vacation, family dinners, and the casual intimacy he's come to love between the two of you. but there's still something up with you and he can't quite figure it out. it'll be fine, right? catch up with [part 1] and [part 2]
OR sex, s'mores, and secrets
Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 18.5k
Warnings: 18+, explicit language, body insecurity, suggestive dialogue, suggestive content, and sexual content (oral (f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). also on ao3!
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i want to be naked, i don’t mean my body, i don’t need my body i’m floating away
Bradley startled awake sometime later. It happened sometimes. He had these dreams were it felt like he was falling. Out of his plane, out of the sky, out of your arms. Falling and falling - with no end in sight. 
That wasn’t to say that they were necessarily nightmares or anything. (Because the distinction between the two was glaringly obvious.) 
They just unnerved him a bit. Left him unsettled, untethered. 
He rolled over and stretched his arm out across the bed, until his fingers brushed against something silky. Something warm and silky. He turned his head to find you sprawled out next to him.
You had changed between now and when Bradley had last seen you - he glanced at the clock on his nightstand - seven hours ago. 
Fuck. 
He had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. 
Goddammit, he felt like an asshole. He rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen, especially after what you two talked about earlier that evening. 
You’d give us your wild? Of course. Of course, of course, of course he would. 
Like you knew he was thinking about you, you shifted your hips, inching closer towards him. Your body was only half under the thick duvet cover and top sheet, so even in the early morning light he could still see the navy nightie you were wearing. 
Bradley liked to think that you had stowed it away someplace and changed downstairs in order to surprise him in bed. Except now he’d never know because he had fallen asleep on you. God, he was the worst boyfriend. 
Tonight, the night three months in the making, he had missed cuddling and kissing and all the best parts of getting cozy in bed with you because he had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. And sure, he had gotten a taste of what was to come on the couch while you laid underneath him and drew imaginary shapes across his chest with your finger and he held you tight and counted your heartbeats. 
But this was supposed to have been a big deal. It was the first time you both went to bed in the same room without the fear that you’d be leaving in the morning or later in the week to go back to your highrise. You were both home. Really, truly home. 
Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 
There was a future with you. There was that little boy - or little girl - from your dream. The perfect mix of you and Bradley. 
(Don’t ever be a Rocket Man. I mean it. 
When you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. 
Promise me you won’t be like me.)
Suddenly, there was this overwhelming urge inside him that if he didn’t touch you and have you in his arms, that he’d slip away, back to space. Untethered. 
You kept him on the ground. You kept him safe. 
Bradley scooted over towards your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around you, unable to bear another moment untethered. There, that was better. You were soft and warm and felt so precious in his arms. And with your nightie rucked up around your hips and one leg extended out and the other hiked up, your body was on full display. 
Easy access.
Your thighs were so fucking soft and curvy and he desperately wanted to slot himself right between them. Have them bracket his head, while his tongue lapped at your pretty pussy. 
Would he start there? Eat you out until you were begging for his cock? Have you grind on his lap…until you were begging for his cock? Or…just generally begging for his cock? 
They all seemed appealing, but admittedly kissing you until you were breathless and then rocking his body above yours until you were both tumbling over the edge had plenty of merit, too. Bradley wanted to treat you like you were precious first. 
But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 
But that brought him back to the present. Could he wake you up, now? Bradley knew you’d been stressed and busy ever since your mom had come to town and because of all you’d confessed earlier; so, would it be fair to wake you? You hadn’t woken him up, afterall.
After an indeterminate amount of time of just holding you and watching you breathe, you rolled your bare ass against Bradley’s crotch and let out a pleased hum. He gave your hip a squeeze and you burrowed even deeper in his arms. Your skin was softer than the silk nightie you were wearing and he could feel the heat pouring off your body.
He slipped his hand down to knead your ass and you sighed. “Hmm, da-dley? Bubba?”
“Hey, kid.” He kissed your neck. 
Once you were a little more lucid and opened your eyes, you pulled your nightie down to cover your ass, though that didn’t stop Bradley from playing with the lace hem. 
You rolled over so you were now face to face and wrapped your right leg around his left. 
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
You cupped his cheek. “Wanted you to sleep, you looked so tired. Pretty too.” 
It was dark in the room at five thirty-eight, but not completely pitch black, so Bradley could still make out your soft features. You had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the three months he had been gone. It wasn’t obvious, not at first, and not to anyone who wasn’t really paying attention. 
But it was obvious to Bradley because Bradley always paid attention.
“Well,” he kissed your forehead then your nose, “I’m still sorry, especially after what we talked about earlier, should’ve stayed up for you.” 
“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 
He hitched your right leg higher over his hip and groaned when he could feel your core through his joggers. You squirmed against him, cheeky little thing. But with his joggers and t-shirt still on, Bradley was definitely overheated and the sweat was building at the back of his neck, to say nothing about the heat your body was giving off. 
As if reading his mind, you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly dragged your fingers up his stomach, stopping at both his happy trail and then the patch of hair in the middle of his chest, before taking the t-shirt off completely. A soft thud rang out when you’d thrown it across the room and it presumably landed on the floor. 
“You gonna take these off, too?” He slipped a finger under the waistband of his joggers. 
“Been dying to all night - hips up, Bradshaw.” 
Bradley arched his back and helped you slide his joggers down his legs, taking his boxer briefs with them. Your gaze lingered on his body for a long moment, but you just gave him a coy little smile. 
“Fuck,” he sighed in relief, “How’d you let me sleep in those?” 
“How’d you fall asleep on me?”
“You got me drunk!” 
“Not my fault you’re suddenly a lightweight - Bradley!” 
He pinched your side and you wiggled away from him with a shriek. “Uh uh, not so fast.” 
Bradley pulled you close again, desperate to be nearer to you. You tangled your legs together and pointed your torso towards his, but remained perched on your elbow, while he was laying down flat.  
Suddenly somber, your eyes were drawn back to his body and he just let you look - drink him in and see what you had missed over the last few months. Every new freckle, scar, bruise, age line. 
Bradley couldn’t wait to do the same. What had he missed? What was different?
He could feel your eyes lingering on his abs. Normally, you remarked on his thighs and shoulders, but tonight it seemed you had a different focus. You appeared hesitant, biting your lip, as you dragged your finger across his stomach. 
Did you like how he looked - how he had changed in your time apart?
“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 
Bradley kissed you and returned the compliment. “And you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I’ve been gone.” 
You appeared bashful at the comment, which just let Bradley know he’d have to give you more of them over the next few weeks. “Come ‘ere.” Without waiting for a response, Bradley started pressing kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your neck, your lips. If it was possible at this point, he drew your body even closer.
“Bra-adley! We have an entire bed here, you know?” You giggled when he rubbed his nose into your neck.
“Mmmm, but it’s nice and warm here.”
You scooched down on the bed on your stomach so you were looking up at him. With a smile, you began to press languid kisses across his chest, starting just above his belly-button and creeping up to his pecs, heart, and shoulders. You loved his shoulders, you always managed to notch your head there during sex and press little kisses to the scars dotting them and his neck. Bites, too - marks to prove he was yours.
But tonight, it seemed you had a different path in mind and, while you still nipped at his shoulder, you didn’t stop there and instead went straight to the small tattoo on his bicep. You traced your fingers across the roman numerals:
x x x i x
Thirty-nine. 
As in thirty-nine years old. An age neither of his parents ever got to see. 
Bradley had gotten the tattoo when he was in flight school and a bit of a shit with self destructive tendencies. People never really asked what it meant and he never really wanted to tell anyone. 
He’d told Ezra, right around the time when they first started talking about moving in together, before that spectacularly failed. He also told Nat. However, the latter was only because he was drunk and pissed and he had just made lieutenant, once again surpassing his father in something.
Maverick had seen it about a year ago. He had never asked Bradley what it meant and probably never wanted to have it confirmed what it meant. But to anyone who really knew Bradley, it was easy to put together.
Bradley had told you about it on your fourth date. 
It was the second time you’d slept together. Because while your first time had been frantic and had taken you both by surprise (you, in particular, were freaked out that you’d slept with someone on the first date without a condom), the second time was much slower - softer. 
You had planned the date this time. Bradley had picked you up at your apartment - he even had come upstairs to get you - with flowers - and the two of you had dinner at Callie, followed by a performance at the San Diego Symphony. It was actually thanks to one of Bradley’s fun facts about playing the piano that you had gotten the idea. 
Both of you had gotten dressed up (a big departure from your third date hike in Torrey Pines), the food and drinks had been plentiful and delicious, and listening to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major and Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 was made all the more romantic by the way Bradley held your hand for the entire first piece and had his hand on your thigh for the entire second.
So, after eating you out on your kitchen counter and going two rounds in bed, Bradley had told you what the tattoo meant and about his parents and Maverick and you had told him about your mom and your accident during your junior year of high school. 
And if you had asked Bradley, it was after that date that he knew he was going to fall in love with you. 
It hadn’t felt scary to tell you any of it. It felt right and natural. Like you wouldn’t judge him or get scared when things got hard. Like he wanted to protect you at all costs. 
And because he had told you what the tattoo meant, it made the moments since when you’d really focus and hone in on it all the more sweeter. During this last deployment, Bradley had often felt like the ink was burning into his skin under his flight-suit. It kept reminding him that he had once thought he had a timeline or a stopwatch on his bicep, slowly ticking down. But with you, it was something to strive towards, to reach beyond and be there for LIX, LXXXIX, and even XCIX. 
“What’s it like flying at night?” Your question snapped him out of his thoughts and you pressed another kiss to his tattoo to calm him. “I kept thinking about it on my flight to London. And how you must see this all the time, is it still a big deal? Can you even stop and think about it? Just endless night with thousands of stars to guide you? Being in the middle of the ocean, nothing around for hundreds of miles.”
(What’s it like, out in space?
It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things - oh, it’s really nothing at all. 
But you always go back.)
“You’d never thought about it before?” his voice came out thick, hoarse. 
You shrugged a shoulder. “Not in that way, I guess? I couldn’t sleep on the way to London, so I pulled up the shade in the middle of the night. I’ve never really thought to do it before, don’t know why - but then I saw all those stars, endless stars, thousands of them. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your finger stopped tracing patterns on his arm for a moment before it started again. “And I though to myself this is what Bradley sees. This is why he loves it and for that brief blip in time I got it. I understood. Makes me love you even more in some way.” 
Bradley felt like he was going to cry, the feeling swept over him so suddenly. “I uhh - fuck.” 
“You don’t have to say anything,” you sounded contrite, “I just wanted you to know.”
Could he tell you? Could he tell you that flying at night with all the stars in the sky simultaneously made him feel closer to and yet farther away from his parents? It was like they were right there, but also so far out of reach. But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t say any of that, not now. The words couldn’t come.
Instead, he pulled you closer, putting your face at level with his own. “I love you.”
You smiled and he could’ve sworn there were tears in your eyes, but it was hard to make out in the darkness. “I love you, too. Now please kiss me.”
Bradley let out a chuckle, but leaned in to kiss you without another word. The kiss was sweet, but still had an underlying desperation attached to it that came with being away for months. But unlike every other kiss you’d shared since Bradley had gotten home, there was no need to stop or to prevent it from going further. No, now you were his. He could have you however he wanted.
Not breaking the kiss, you shifted and bracketed your thighs on either side of his hips, allowing him to slide his hands up your body. He’d never get tired of thinking it, but god, you were so fucking soft. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts, your hands, your lips - actually…
His next words were grunted against your neck. “Your lips are really soft - softer than normal,” he finished when you went to interrupt him. 
“Must be my lip mask. I put it on after I saw that you fell asleep on me…”
“Hey, hey,” he tickled your sides and you collapsed on his chest amidst your giggles, “I said you should’ve woken me up!”
“Would you have woken me up?” You had him there. “See? This way I could stare at you uninterrupted and get all moony over you. Plus, now isn’t this better? No more sleepy bubs.”
No. He was definitely awake now. And from where your core was laid on his bare stomach, he could already feel how wet your were and couldn’t wait to slip inside you. 
“‘Could kiss you for hours,” you said against his lips. You kissed him - once, twice, ten times, smiling all the while. He never wanted you to stop. “Bradley,” you whined, “Need you inside me. Gotta get used to you again. ‘m so tight.” You nipped his earlobe. 
He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”
You preened under the praise. Because it surely had to have been a bit of a challenge. “Yours are so much bigger, though.” Bradley rolled his eyes at your cheeky tone. “What’re you gonna think up for me to do next time you’re gone? Like what you talked about earlier?” You didn’t linger too much on the next time part of your question, so he didn’t either.
“Hmmm. What about tasks?”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Well, I’d have to do more research, but like you have to wear xyz or send me a picture of you doing something? Whatever we want.”
You nuzzled his neck. “Mmmmm, I like that. Wish we could really talk when you’re gone, though. I’m not sure I could handle every comms officer hearing what I need from you again…”
An idea suddenly struck Bradley. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe I can make you an audiobook?”
Your jaw dropped and you contorted your body to look up at him. “You’d do that? Seriously?”
His cheeks colored. “I mean, not like an actual one, but like a voice memo or something?” The idea didn’t sound nearly as good out loud as it did in his head. “If you wanted…”
“Oh my god, yes! I very much do want.”
Without another word, Bradley rolled you both over so now he was on top, knees bracketing your hips so as to not put his full weight on you. Your nightie was still covering your stomach and breasts, but that didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath the navy silk to play with them. They felt fuller than normal - not that he was complaining, but he hadn’t noticed earlier and now -
His cock brushed against your stomach in a way that had you bucking up against him, so desperate, so keen, so fucking good. Good girl. Your lips were eager against his as you poured every thought, every email, every Facetime call into your kiss. 
God, it had been so long. Fooling around on the couch earlier in the evening paled in comparison to how plump your lips felt and how keenly your body reacted to his. Because you felt so good. Months, weeks, days had passed and Bradley had never felt anything as good as your body beneath his. 
You sighed and squirmed up the bed so your head was laid across the pillows, all the while Bradley made his way down the bed. 
“More, bubs, please.” 
How could he refuse, especially when you had asked so nicely? He bent forward to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips before working his way down your body, from your neck and collarbones, to your breasts through your nightie, and finally to right below your belly-button. From there, you readily allowed him to bend your knees so your feet were planted firmly on the bed and your core was completely exposed to him. 
Even in the early morning light it was exquisite. You had the prettiest pussy Bradley had ever seen - and it was his, all his.
“Fucking gorgeous.” 
You startled at the first touch of his lips on your thighs, but let out the prettiest little sigh when he sucked on the skin by your birthmark. There was another as he licked along one of your lightning lines. And another as he kissed the hood of your clit. 
God, you smelled so fucking good and were groomed just the way he liked it -  like the perfect, obedient, good girl that you were. And perfect, obedient, good girls got their pussy played with until they were babbling like dumb little sluts.
“- Would have thought this would be your first stop?”
Bradley chuckled, but didn’t stop dragging his fingers across your inner thighs and lower lips. “Yeah? What, d’you think I’d do? Just dive right in? Take you on the kitchen table?”
“I would’ve let you.”
Once the words had sunk in, he stopped teasing you. His elbows gave out beneath him and he groaned with his face pressed against the sheets. Fuck. That was a conversation for another time, but just the thought of you letting Bradley basically use you had him grinding his hips into the mattress.
You were so good. 
He popped his head back up and slapped you - lightly - across your pussy. “You keep saying shit like that and next time I just might.”
In response, you arched your back and tried to close your legs around his head, but Bradley just tutted and spread them further.
“Uh-uh, need to have a look at her, I've gone three months without her.” Your hips jumped off the mattress as his fingers started playing with you, tracing circles over and dipping in and out of your cunt. “‘pretty pussy. She took such good care of you while I was gone, didn’t she? Look at you dripping for me, huh?”
His fingers scissored inside of you, dragging against your walls, while his thumb needled your clit. Your wetness spread across his fingers and he, in turn, spread it across your folds and inner thighs. He liked when you were messy. He liked to feel you all over his face.
“Bradley,” you whined. “Stop teasing.”
Neither of you really wanted that, so it didn’t even merit a response from him. Instead, he kept sliding his fingers inside you in and out, in and out and crooked them ever so slightly before he added a third. Above him, you gasped and jolted. 
“‘Atta girl, arch your back, just like that.” You whimpered at his praise and kept rocking your hips in tandem with his fingers. Fucking glorious, such a good girl for da -
“- Bradley…” He peered up to see that you had one arm over your eyes, while the other was pawing at your breasts through your nightie.
“God, you’re sucking on my fingers so tight, I would believe you’ve taken anything up this pretty pussy in months.”
“‘Want your mouth, please, please…” 
“Where?” his voice was muffled. Bradley sucked his lips around your thigh, right by your labia, but refrained from kissing you were you wanted him most. He wanted to mark you up everywhere, have your thighs and breasts and neck covered in little bites and bruises. 
Mine. Mine. Mine. 
Good. Good. Good. 
You whined. It sounded pathetic and he had barely even started. “My pussy. Please, Bradley? Please?”
Who was he to deny you? Because, god, you tasted so fucking good. It was hard not to absolutely devour you, especially after going for so long without you. Bradley slid his hands down from your hips to grab your ass and rut your cunt deeper against his face. As a reward, he got a slew of pretty little whimpers out of you.
He continued at a steady pace, alternating between probing your clit and slipping his tongue inside you. Above him, you arched your back and he pressed a firm hand on your stomach to keep you down. 
“Bradley,” you cried as you rode his face. 
God, you sounded so pretty now, he couldn’t wait to get you on his cock later. 
Pretty girl. 
Smart girl. 
Good girl. 
His girl with a body like Aphrodite. 
“Ahhh - fuc - ahhh.” You made that sound and he knew, without even looking up, that your head was tipped back in pleasure and you were close. “Bubs,” your voice came out small, “want you - inside me, now.”
“Uh-uh.” Bradley pulled his head back, but continued fingering you. “You need to come first.” 
Come on his face. 
You shook your head frantically against the pillow. “No.” You gasped when he purposely plunged his fingers deeper. “‘wanna with you - ahh inside me.”
Somehow you grabbed the hand he had pressed on your stomach and you dragged it up your body. His knuckles brushed against the silk of your nightie until you eventually pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your interlocked fingers. And all Bradley could do was say your name in censure, which ultimately came out heavy with need.
“Please? Want it to be together our first time back.” You whined pitifully. “Haven’t touched myself in days.”
All you had to do was pout and he was gone. 
“Fine,” he smacked your thigh, “but I’m gonna make you come again after I finish inside you.”
“Yes, yes, anything, Bradley.”
You would be spent and whiny by then, it wouldn’t be hard. 
After swirling his fingers once more around in your cum, Bradley held his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean them off. “That good?” You hummed around the digits before he retracted them and tapped your cheek twice. “Atta girl.”
Next, he shifted up on the bed so his knees were straddling your waist. He was achingly hard at this point and bit back a smile as you made grabby hands for his cock. It pulsed in your grasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Fuck, that felt divine. While you may have relished how much larger his fingers were than yours, Bradley loved how large his cock looked in your smaller hands. However, he’d already let your tender touches go on long enough - another minute and he’d come all over that silk nightie you hadn’t taken off yet.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Your eyes were wide and you nodded. 
Trusting, needy, desperate. Such a perfect girl for him. 
“Wanna be full.”
He brushed the head of his cock against your pussy lips, making sure it was nice and wet and, god, you were fucking soaked and practically sucked him in. You whimpered and muttered something indistinguishable, but wrapped your arms around his shoulders and canted your hips up for more. Then, once Bradley slipped just the tip of his cock inside you, you gasped, but brought him closer. Your nails dug into his shoulders, hopefully pressing little crescents into the skin. He pulled back and slid in again, inch by inch, earning a breathy gasp from you every time. 
Holyfuckingshit. You were so tight. So fucking tight, even after prepping you with his tongue and fingers. 
Yours are so much bigger, though your voice echoed through his head. 
You were so fucking soft and warm and wet and felt perfect around him. With each thrust he’d grunt out your name and you in turn would give a whiny Bradley and eventually wrapped your legs around his hips. And then you were also clenching down on him like you’d spent the entire three months doing kegel exercises. 
“Fuck, you made me so hard - thinking about how much of a good girl you were while I was away, keeping this nice and tight for me,” he barely got the words out. 
“‘do anything for - for you. ‘d let you do anything to - mmhmm - me,” you finished with a whimper. 
Fuck. Your unwavering trust in Bradley always took him aback. Because you meant it. You really would let him do anything to you. If you had the slightest inclination that it would please him, you would do it. He had never had someone who trusted him that much. And that wasn’t something he took lightly. 
With that thought in mind, he snapped his hips against yours in a particularly hard thrust that had you crying out. 
“Mmm harder.”
He bent down to suck on your neck. This - the closeness - was why he liked missionary so much. It was perfect for this exact moment. There was plenty of time to take you hard and fast later.
“Oh, god. Feel so full - Bradley, Bra - Bradley!” With every utterance of his name, he drove deeper inside you. Harder inside you. You’d ride him next time, he’d make sure of it. But for now, breathing each other’s air, gasping against each other’s mouth, and feeling the sweat on each other’s brow, being so impossibly close to each other, it was hard to say where Bradley’s soul ended and yours started. 
Yours and mine are the same. 
He groaned your name and you opened your eyes to gaze up at him with an almost dazed expression. Grabbing the back of your knee, Bradley went in at a different angle, trying to get deeper. “Feel how much your little hole’s dripping? Just needed me to stretch you out again.”
“Mmmmm yes, yes, da-dley - ahhhh,” you cried out, “can I come? Please, please?”
Oh, you were such a good girl for him. Asking so nicely, so prettily. So properly. Thank god he had prepped you, he wasn’t going to last much longer, himself. It was kind of pathetic. Both of you were, to be frank. Obviously, you more than him in this instance, but -
“‘Course. There you go, sweetheart, come on my cock like a good girl.”
When you finally came a few moments later, it was with a strangled cry of his name that Bradley swore was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in months. As the shudder of pleasure swept over you and you tightened your core around him, Bradley hastened to find his own release. The slew of cries and whimpers against his lips as you tried to settle down only spurred him on further. He drove into you again and again and again. 
He had to get there with you - had to. You clung to him and notched your head by his neck, only to graze your lips along the tender skin there and bite. 
“Fuck,” he grunted. “‘You ready for me to come inside you, sweetheart? Know how much you missed it.”
You nodded against his neck. “Yes,” you whispered, “Bradley, please…”
He groaned your name. It sounded so good like that, so perfect. He had to say it again and again and again. With each stroke, your overstimulated pussy fluttered around him, pulling him towards his own orgasm. His jaw clenched and his back muscles tightened and Bradley could barely support his own weight over you for another moment - 
“‘s good, bubs, feel so full.”
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was it. That did it. 
With a final moan of your name, Bradley came inside you, painting your pussy with his cum. His cocked twitched one final time as the last streams of cum filled you up. He notched his head against your shoulder and he breathed in your sweet scent. 
Goddamn. 
Once he settled down and caught his breath sometime later, he moved to pull out, knowing that when he did so, both your cum would drip down your thighs. Your gorgeous, thick thighs. He already needed to get lost in them again. And wasn’t that just the thing? Bradley was obsessed with you. He could never get enough of you.
“No, no, not yet,” you whimpered. 
He stopped and pulled you closer, but slightly changed your position. There was some perverse part of him that wanted to make a comment about keeping you on his cock for the rest of the morning so you could get used to him again, but he refrained after thinking about the tone of your voice. You sounded so fucking good and docile and submissive. Such a good girl. 
“Pretty sure you owe me another one…” You burrowed your head against his neck and moaned when he shifted. “How ‘bout I stay inside you? ‘That okay?” You nodded and your pussy tightened against him. “Good girl.”
Keeping you close, Bradley slid one hand in between your bodies to play with your throbbing clit. You arched your back up towards him, trying in vain to get closer, though that was nigh impossible - the two of you were already as close as two people could be. 
Yours and mine are the same.
He needled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, trying to get some moans and whines out of you. God, your body felt unreal. Still so warm around him, still so wet for him. All for him. 
Mine, mine, mine. 
As your body shifted, your pebbled nipples brushed against his bare chest and Bradley was remiss for not playing more attention to them earlier. But that could’ve been because you were still wearing that goddamn nightie. You were flustered and warm and your skin was glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat. 
He bent his head down and mouthed at your breasts through the midnight blue silk. They were already hardened to peaks, desperate to be suckled on, especially after noting their new size. There would be time for that later, he had to remind himself. 
For now, he nipped at the top of your cleavage and kept playing with your clit. You were so oversensitive, you were practically shaking in his arms. And in response, you raked your hands through Bradley’s hair, pulling on the strands. Fuck him. That felt divine, especially as he felt you tighten around him. 
“Brad-ley,” you whimpered, “’s too much.”
“Shhh, easy, easy, there’s no rush.” He tipped your chin up. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head. “Take a deep breath. That's it. Good girl.”
Little whimpers kept escaping your mouth, but you burrowed your face against his neck and trusted him to take care of you. You nipped at the skin there and he hoped it would leave a mark; let everyone know that he was yours and only yours for the next few weeks. 
Mine, mine, mine.
“I’ve got to take care of you, you were such a good girl while I was gone. My best girl, huh?”
“Mmmm.”
“So beautiful, so smart. Took such good care of things for me, huh?” He could feel as well as hear your breath hitching, letting him know that you were close. “‘gorgeous girl, so proud of you, sweet g -”
And that did it. 
So proud of you.
You came with a cry and your walls fluttered around his cock once again. A sudden gush of wetness coated both yours and Bradley’s thighs. God, it was beautiful. You were beautiful. Your name kept running through his mind and Bradley realized he was actually muttering it against your lips through kisses. There were tears in your eyes and he thumbed them away before they could slide down your beautiful face.
“Hey, too much?” He kissed your cheeks, which unfortunately only made more tears spring from your eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” 
“No, no,” you shook your head, “I just missed you so much, think I’m overwhelmed,” you finished sheepishly. 
The tension in Bradley’s shoulders eased and he smiled down at you. “Now you’re gonna make me cry, kid.”
“I love you.” The words came out quietly, but it was like they’d only just come out of your mouth before Bradley was saying them back. 
“Love you, too.” The smile he got out of you warmed his heart and he pecked your lips before tucking your head under his chin.
The two of you laid there for some time with Bradley still inside you. In fact, he was pretty certain you may have dozed off at one point, but he didn’t want you to be too uncomfortable when you woke up later. With that in mind, he slowly pulled out and settled you on the bed beside him. You fussed a little, but Bradley kissed your forehead, heading it off. 
He started with your name, “I’ll be right back, okay? Going to the bathroom.” You nodded at him, your eyes wide and trusting. 
It was chilly out of bed, away from you, and Bradley only paused for a brief moment to slip on a pair of his sleep shorts from the dresser, before heading off to the bathroom to get a damp towel for you. He hastened back to the bedroom, now almost fully lit in the early morning light. You made such a pretty picture all tucked under the thick, white duvet. 
“Bradley?” You stretched out underneath the covers and let out a little whimper. “‘m sore.”
“Shit, sorry,” he said with your special nickname tacked on the end. “Come ‘ere.” Despite his words, he came to you and dutifully cleaned you up with the warm cloth. 
“‘s not your fault,” you slurred, “need to get used to it again. Missed you.”
The cloth passed over your thighs once, twice, three times, before Bradley brushed it against your core once, twice, three times. You sighed and gave him a lazy smile, which he easily returned. 
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Be right back,” he whispered. 
You’d barely managed to get back under the covers by the time he came back from the bathroom. And then, with all the care and love you deserved at the moment, he bundled you up in his arms. You were so warm and smelled so pretty and your nightie felt so soft against his rough fingers. Everything about that moment was perfect. You were so precious. You pressed your cheek against his chest and he hoped you could tell how fast his heart was beating. 
“I missed being with you like this, missed holding you.”
You pressed lazy kisses to his chest for a moment before you eventually tipped your head up to meet his eyes. “Can we stay like this? Just for a while? Don’t wanna get up yet.”
“‘Course,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “go back to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
--------------
When Bradley woke hours later, he did so slowly. He was pleasantly warm, he was finally sleeping on a true mattress, and you were slotted between his legs sucking his cock. 
Surely, there were few better ways to wake up than to have your sweet lips wrapped around him. It wasn’t something you did often, at least in terms of waking Bradley up this way, but he loved whenever you took the initiative. It showed how eager you were - how desperate. Really, the only thing that could top it would be your pussy sunk deep on his cock as you rode him.
You had to have been at it for a while, for he was achingly hard by this point. His hips bucked up, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth and you let out a surprised moan, no doubt having thought he was still sleeping, before taking him further. Your tight grip on his thighs left him relatively grounded, else he would have set off a round of those gagging noises from you that he liked so much. That wet mouth that he liked so much - fuck. 
Bradley groaned your name. You peered up at him with those wide, innocent eyes like you weren’t getting him off while he slept. Like your pussy wasn’t soaking. Like you hadn’t been grinding it against his bare thigh for the last however many minutes. 
And you kept at it with Bradley’s hand grabbing your hair and guiding you. You kept working him, forcing him deeper down your throat. He moaned and you responded back in kind. Such a good mouth, such a good girl, taking care of him like this. It took him a moment to realize he was doing it, but he was mumbling your name, almost nonsensically. 
But then he felt, rather than saw, you remove one of your hands from his thighs to presumably put it between your legs to play with your needy pussy. And that just wouldn’t do.
“Fuck. Get up here,” he said and then punctuated it with a growl of your name when you stayed down. The whimper you let out had him bucking his hips up off the mattress. “I’m serious.”
Almost begrudgingly, you eased him out of your mouth and the resulting, wet pop echoed throughout the bedroom. You looked far too pleased with yourself as you sucked on your finger - the one that had definitely been shoved up your pussy only moments ago - and hummed in response. 
“Get up here - now.”
You braced yourself on either side of Bradley’s hips and teasingly brushed your pussy against his aching cock a couple times, practically begging for him to sink inside you. It would be so easy for you to ride him right now, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Bossy, bossy,” you teased and crept up his body, pressing kisses to his happy trail and chest along the way. But just as you were about to kiss him on the lips, he stopped you.
“Uh uh.” He stuck his finger in the air and mimed a circle. “Turn around.” 
Your jaw dropped. “Are you…” Again, just Bradley twirled his finger around and smiled. “F-fine.” 
“But,” at this you relaxed your thighs to press more of your weight on his stomach, “you have to take this off,” he finished by thumbing the navy fabric of your nightie. 
It only took a moment for the smile to creep across your face, but you didn’t take your eyes off Bradley’s as you slid the dainty straps off your shoulders, one at a time. You didn’t take the nightie off, it still covered all of your stomach, but it let Bradley ogle your breasts unimpeded for a moment. 
“Will that be all, lieutenant commander?”
He just shook his head in disbelief. “Cheeky little slut.” 
And then you smiled, looking so proud of yourself for rattling him that he had no choice but to slap the top of your ass. Hard. You huffed.
“Now turn around.” 
You rolled your eyes, but managed to turn around with Bradley’s assistance. The brief awkwardness of limbs strewn about was easily forgotten as soon as you got into position and he was rewarded with the sight of your glistening pussy in front of his face.
Bradley didn’t bother holding back a moan and started kneading your ass and running his fingers along your lower spine. Meanwhile, you wiggled down his body, dragging your breasts against his bare skin for the first time all morning. They were so soft, but your nipples were pebbled as they brushed against his stomach. He hissed when you lingered there for a moment to tease him.
Not one to let you get the upper hand, Bradley grabbed your hips to draw you close to his face and inhaled your sweet scent. Fuck. You were so good. You let out a mewl and startled when he first made contact with his tongue and then attempted to nose at your clit. That always got you going. Same with his mustache against the tender skin at the apex of your thighs. Maybe he would abstain from shaving on vacation, if only you’d ask.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned your name against your skin and then he feasted. 
Meanwhile, the way your hands were playing with his balls right now had him already teetering towards an orgasm. After only being able to fantasize about having your hands on him - your sweet, delicate hands on him - for the last three months, this felt divine. And then you put your mouth on him and he was well and truly done for.
“Fuck.” 
Neither of you lasted much longer after that.
--------------
After your depravity filled wake up call, the rest of the morning took on a decidedly more chaste tone. The room was filled with giggles and the sounds of kissing as Bradley told you some of the more entertaining stories from the carrier and Australia, while you revealed that you had watched his 60 Minutes segment at least nine times. When he asked you why you’d watched it nine times, you just ducked your head and bashfully said it was because you sounded really smart.
It was finally around noon when Bradley said you two needed a shower and to have breakfast before embarking on the rest of the day’s activities, which included a tour of the house, complete with all the little goodies you’d amassed for him over the last couple months that he had glossed over last night, and getting ready for drinks with Nat, Caroline, and Max at six-thirty. Granted, the latter was six hours away, but Bradley had a feeling you both would be pretty slow to the take that afternoon. Probably would get a little distracted, too.
“‘m gonna take a shower,” his lips brushed kisses up and down your arms and over your once again silk clad breasts and he was rewarded with giggles, “you wanna come with me?”
“Oh!? Uhh - yeah, we could take a shower.” You pecked him on the lips. “Can you warm it up first, please?”
The pout worked - it always did - but Bradley still groaned, totally hamming it up. “Mmmm, I suppose...”
With one final kiss, he dragged himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He flicked the lights on with a snap, going for full brightness on the dimmer, and turned around to give you a cheeky wink, only to see you worrying your lip between your teeth and staring intently down at your clasped hands on top of the duvet. He called your name and your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze.
“You good?”
You nodded and put a smile on your face. “Yeah, be right in.”
Odd. But then again, Bradley could’ve been reading too much into it. He hadn’t seen you since before Christmas, afterall. You were probably just tired. Yesterday had been a long day. And he had run you pretty ragged this morning. 
The water had warmed up while he was going to the bathroom and was the perfect temperature by the time he finally got under the spray. Just as he was about to call out to you again, he heard you enter the bathroom - and promptly dim the lights. 
“Woah, woah - hey!”
“Sorry!” you called out from behind the shower curtain. “I uhh - I just have a headache, don’t want the lights too bright too early in the morning.”
It was twelve-fifteen. 
Bradley frowned and looked at your shadow moving on the other side of the curtain. You were standing up straight - he would almost call it stiff. It was an odd request, to say the least, but it wasn’t exactly pitch black in the bathroom now, just a little darker, especially from the waist down. 
“Okay, just be careful when you get in - here,” he pulled the curtain back and held his hand out for you to step over the lip of the tub. You startled, but nevertheless took his hand. “There you go.”
The two of you stood face to face for a moment, allowing you both to get your fill of the other. It was definitely darker in the shower now, but Bradley could still make out your ample curves. Streams of water dripped down your chest as you tipped your head under the faucet and it was impossible for him to not watch as the droplets cascaded over your breasts. 
They looked fucking glorious by the way - he was slightly put out that he hadn’t gotten a chance to really play with them in bed earlier - you had only given him a glimpse of them for a few moments - but there was always later. Or now? Now was also good.
“Did these get bigger?” The words were out before he could think twice and he cupped a breast in each hand. Your nipples pebbled as his thumbs passed over them, back and forth, back and forth.  
Your eyes flew up to his face before glancing right back down at your breasts. “What? No, I don’t think - no.”
Bradley leaned back to catch your eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. They look great, feel even better, they’re just…”
“Oh! I guess I hadn’t noticed.” You turned your back to him. “Here, do you want to do my hair? Or I can do yours? Why don’t I do yours?”
Before he could even process what was happening, you spun back around and grabbed the shampoo bottle from behind Bradley and squirted some Ouai into your hands. He leaned forward so you could lather his hair up with the suds and appreciated your care in keeping them out of his eyes. For someone normally so dominant and in control, Bradley really did love when you fussed over him. He knew it wasn’t something you were comfortable with in every aspect of your relationship - taking charge like that - but it was nice in settings like this. Once the shampoo had set, he crouched down for you to rinse and then repeat the process with the conditioner.  
“I think we need a bench in here.”
“Yeah?” 
You hummed. “Just a little bump out, enough for someone to sit. You’re getting older, I wouldn’t want you to fall or hurt yourself during any rigorous shower activity.”
“Rigorous shower activity?” Bradley chuckled and nudged you with his shoulder before wetting your hair under the faucet. “You know, if I took all my showers with you, I wouldn’t have to worry about that, kid. Here, turn around, ‘s your turn.”
Gently, Bradley lathered up your hair and made sure to massage your scalp the same way you had done for him. You let out a pleased hum and then he repeated the process with the conditioner, though he might’ve used a bit too much. 
Once you were both back under the spray, you rested your palms on his chest and peered up at him with wide eyes. You looked like you were about to cry and he pulled you closer in comfort.
“I haven’t stayed here at the house too much while you were gone, just a night or two - like that night…with the email,” you confessed, “it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking you’d come home any minute.” Bradley pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’d drop stuff off slowly, a couple boxes a week and whatnot.”
You both stood in the silence of the falling water for a few moments before you spoke again. 
“It just doesn’t feel real - all of this. I keep worrying that you’re gonna disappear again tomorrow. Or that I’m going to wake up or something. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And that was just the thing: Bradley didn’t know what he’d do without you either. He had never felt this way before; that there was someone else tied to him, someone else living for him, while he in turn lived for them. 
“Hey,” he tipped your chin up, “you’re not the only one worried about that. But I have you with me now and I’m always gonna do my damndest to come home to you, alright, kid?”
“Alright.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping him close, and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Love you, bubs.”
Bradley instantly tightened his arms around you. “Love you, too.” 
I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.
Before long, your kiss on his chest turned into a kiss on the mouth and your hands roved over each other’s bodies as you shared the loofah and soap. “So broad, so strong,” you said in wonder as you roved your hands over his chest and thighs and chased away the bubbles. 
And then, after multiple passes over your breasts at Bradley’s hands - it was unfair how good your breasts looked all sudsed up - it was time for a final rinse. He hopped out of the shower first and had a towel waiting for you when you got out, before you ultimately changed into your fluffy white robe. 
The two of you completed your morning routines side by side in comfortable silence until Bradley went back to the bedroom to put on some running shorts and a t-shirt. 
“You want breakfast?” He snuck up behind you at the bathroom counter and kissed your cheek. 
You smiled at him in the mirror. “Yes, please.”
“Anything in particular.” He kissed you again. “Pancakes? French toast? Ooooo maybe hash browns and bacon, too? The works?”
You had been giggling while he had been kissing your neck, but you suddenly turned sober as he rattled off your options. “Oh, uhh - maybe some eggs?”
Bradley frowned. “Like scrambled?” 
“Or poached? I’ve been eating a lot of egg whites lately…” With the way you were bundled up in your robe and with your hair still wet from the shower, you looked small - young. Egg whites?
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, I can do some egg whites for you.” 
Egg whites? Since when did you like egg whites? You had always liked your eggs scrambled and a little runny - with ketchup. Idly, Bradley remembered Max eating egg whites and low carb toast for the entire month of May to get in shape for yacht week in Croatia. He shook the thought away.
“Anything you want, kid.”
“Thank you.” You gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the check. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay?”
And with that smile and a promise, Bradley headed off downstairs to make breakfast. 
Egg whites, really?
-----------
Bradley’s homecoming weekend extravaganza - your words - could only be considered truly complete with a family dinner at Maverick and Penny’s on Sunday evening. Penny wouldn’t hear of you two bringing anything to dinner, so all that was needed to do upon returning from a morning hike in Torrey Pines was shower and change. 
You didn’t have to be there until six thirty, but it was already five forty-five and at least a 20 minute drive, so you were both a little more hurried than you were after yesterday’s shower. In fact, when Bradley got out of the shower, he was surprised to see that you were still in your bathrobe and staring at your half of the closet like it contained all of life’s mysteries. Granted, your hair and makeup were done, but you just stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, absentmindedly biting your thumb nail. 
How long had you been standing there?
“If it makes it any easier,” you startled at Bradley’s voice, “I’m sure Mav will just be wearing a t-shirt and jeans.” Barely looking at the shirt he grabbed to go with his chino shorts, Bradley fell into your line of sight. “You good?”
You relaxed your shoulders. “Yeah, just…not sure what to wear.” 
The two of you stood side by side to take in the full array of clothes in the closet. While not all of your clothes - some bulkier items and more formal dresses were in the guest bedroom - there were still dozens of options in front of the two of you. You took a hesitant step forward and eventually took a pair of boyfriend jeans off a shelf and held them to your chest. Just as you were about to grab a boxy oxford, Bradley snatched up a brightly patterned, tiered, sleeveless dress that would hit at the middle of your thighs. The empty hanger rattled against the rod, but it stopped you in your tracks, the oxford momentarily forgotten. 
“This would look nice.” 
Even to Bradley’s own ears, his voice sounded lame, almost a little desperate. But there was something about you choosing an oxford to wear after staring at your closet for ten minutes that gave him pause. You had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them. 
“It’s not too much?” Bradley shook his head and held the dress up to your body. “I bought it to bring on our trip, but now I’m not sure…”
“It’s perfect, trust me, you’ll look gorgeous. And you better pack it for Mexico, too, okay?”
“Okay.” You appeared a little flustered, but had lost the sad look in your eyes from moments ago, so Bradley considered it a win. 
With a kiss to the side of your head, he told you to finish getting ready and that he would be downstairs when you were done. 
After getting his wallet and car keys together, Bradley made his way to the mudroom to put on his new sneakers. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you had definitely ordered them for Bradley during one of your many Ted Lasso rewatches while he was away. He reminds me of you sometimes, you would demure when pressed. It was cute. 
With one foot propped up on the bench to tie his shoes, Bradley noticed the row of jackets in front of him. He called your name. “You want a jacket?”
“Yes, please,” your voice carried from upstairs.
So, he grabbed your jean jacket, figuring it would look good with your dress, and got himself his oversized grey Navy crewneck sweatshirt. Maverick and Penny always liked to have drinks and dessert out on the back patio, and though it had been a relatively warm day for March, Bradley knew the breeze off the ocean would make it chilly later. Maybe they’d light the firepit and have s’mores? You loved s’mores even more than Bradley did, if you could believe it. 
Just as he had gotten the jackets and threw his sweatshirt on, you appeared beside him. And just like Bradley had thought, the dress looked perfect on you.
“See? You look gorgeous.” You ducked your head and muttered thanks. “Here.” Bradley held your jean jacket open and helped you slip it on while you put on your sandals. And then you set off for Coronado in the Bronco. 
-----------
After a lovely dinner filled with much chatter and laughter, Amelia and Penny dragged you upstairs to show you her dress for the sophomore semi-formal next week. This left Bradley and Maverick to clean up the dinner plates and get things situated outside on the patio.
It was completely beyond Bradley’s comprehension how to get Penny’s fancy fire pit started, but Maverick had a flame roaring in no time. The two sat across from each other - Maverick on one of the cushioned, wicker swivel chairs with Bradley on the matching loveseat - and sipped their beers in comfortable silence for a few moments. The sun had set about fifteen minutes ago, but the sky was still a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, and oranges. 
“So, how’re you really doing?” Though the question has been asked at dinner already, Bradley had just given a vague answer. But now that it was just him and Maverick, he felt he could be honest.
“Fine, I guess.” Bradley made a face. “‘s always weird doing some stuff again. We went to the store earlier; always takes me back that first time.”
“It’s the cereal. Too many choices.” 
“Yes, thank you!” Bradley exclaimed, glad he had someone who could relate. Every time he brought it up with Nat or the guys, they just looked at him like he had seven heads. They went from having few choices on the carrier, to endless when on land. “And the chips. Too many options and sizes.” Maverick chuckled. “We went on the way back from Torrey Pines to get more Diet Coke and I wandered off like three times just to stare at the oversized boxes of Lucky Charms.”
Maverick smiled wryly and took a sip of his beer. “You don’t look as tired as you did Friday afternoon, that’s for certain.” Though the way he’d said it had been completely innocent, Bradley still blushed.
“Yeah, it’s been amazing. You should’ve seen her Friday night, she was so excited to make dinner and the house just -” he broke off, “it felt nice coming home to someone like that, I guess.”
Nice? I guess? Bradley sounded like an idiot. It had felt more than nice coming home to you. Coming home this time made him never want to leave again. But the real test would come tomorrow when you went to work. And Bradley would be alone for the first time in three months. Alone in your big, quiet, house. It hadn’t been quiet in three months. There was always something else going on around him. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, he could do things on his own time and make his own food and pick his own clothes. He could have choices. Luckily, Maverick didn’t seem to notice his sudden unease.
“That was all she talked about last week.” 
It took a concerted effort on Bradley’s part not to be jealous that you’d talked to Maverick so much last week when all Bradley had gotten were emails. Beautiful, heartfelt, smutty emails, but emails nonetheless. Before Friday, Bradley hadn’t heard your voice in weeks.
“She did a really good job. The cake was unreal, I had a piece for breakfast this morning.” That got a chuckle out of them both. “It’s nice to see her comfortable doing something outside of her wheelhouse. She kept sending me pictures from her lessons and even cooked for me on Facetime once.”
Just as Maverick appeared to be gearing up for a follow up, probably about how he’d gotten the leftovers from those cooking lessons, Bradley rushed out: “But we really talked Friday night - about a lot of things. It was good, though.”
“What about?” 
“Kids,” the word slipped out before Bradley could think better of it, “family, that kind of stuff.”
Maverick pondered this and took a sip of his beer. “And you didn’t mind talking about that right when you got back? Seems like a lot.”
“No, it was good.” Not looking at Maverick while he was talking made it easier for Bradley. That way he couldn’t see his pity. He shifted in his seat. “I’d rather we talk about it now anyway, that way it isn’t hanging over our heads on vacation and whatnot.” 
The fact that Bradley thought you were keeping something else from him didn’t need to be brought up yet. He wouldn’t even be able to put it into words, it was just a gut feeling at this point. You just seemed a little off. The egg whites, the boxy oxfords, the chocolate cake.
There was hesitancy in Mav’s voice when he spoke next. “So, you looking to get engaged soon? It’s been what? A year?”
“Almost, yeah. But uhh no, no.” The denial was firm in his voice. “Probably still a year off at least. It’s gonna happen - we both want it to - but there’s no need to rush it. I’m excited for it to be just the two of us for a little while, you know in the house and everything.”
“Good, good,” he sounded pleased, “you two have a good thing going, I wouldn’t want -”
“- We’re not going to have kids until I’m out of the Navy.” Bradley said the words in a rush and he really hoped Maverick would ignore how thick his voice sounded. 
But of course he didn’t. Maverick snapped his eyes over to meet Bradley’s, but he was suddenly focused on a loose thread on the upholstery. Shit. Why had he said that?
“Oh.” It was a long time before either of them spoke again. Bradley finished half his beer. “Is that your idea or hers?”
“It’s both of ours.” Bradley winced realizing how defensive he sounded. “Well, I kind of brought it up first, but she was the one who said we’d wait.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Bradley nodded. “Jesus, Bradley, you’ll be at least forty by the time -”
“- Forty-two.” 
Maverick looked sad and Bradley hated it. Because he knew, without Bradley even having to spell it out why you were going to wait. Because Maverick had been there. Because Maverick had held Bradley’s mom as she cried on too many occasions to count. Because Maverick had taken Bradley to all the father/son events in the place of his own father. Because Bradley realized, as he had gotten older, that Maverick thought it was his fault that Bradley grew up without a father. 
“Listen, we both know that a million things can happen between now and then and maybe the timing will be all wrong, but we want to wait. If it gives either of us the slightest peace of mind, we’re going to try and wait.”
The silence was heavy this time around. 
“Well, I guess it’s good you’re talking about it now - even if I don’t entirely agree with it. You should be enjoying your life together, not waiting around…” Maverick seemed to think better of what he was saying and took a sip of his beer. A beat passed until he spoke again. “Also reminds me of some stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
Maverick waved him off. “It can wait until after your trip. Just some estate planning and whatnot, I know the four of us are in a really good place, so figured it was a good time.”
Estate planning? The four of us? The whole family was involved? Bradley’s curiosity was most definitely piqued. 
“Oh, err yeah, sounds good -”
“It’s nothing bad - promise!” he quickly backpedaled, “More paperwork than anything -”
“What’re you ladies gossiping about?” Amelia breezed onto the patio and messed up Bradley’s hair before she plopped down on the other end of the sofa. Naturally, he in turn had to elbow her in the side. Not hard, mind you, but hard enough for her to kick him back. 
“We were actually just talking about the dance coming up next Friday,” Maverick replied smoothly and Bradley stifled a snort. Since when had he become such a good liar? Regardless, Amelia preened. “I was just about to tell Bradley about your date…”
“What?!” Bradley exclaimed.
Amelia pouted, clearly put off that it had been brought up in front of him. He liked Amelia, he was protective of her, fucking shoot him. “Mav likes him!”
Maverick slightly cowed under Bradley and Amelia’s stares. “He’s nice, they’re on the debate team together.”
“Debate team?!” Alright, now he was putting it on a little bit, but as someone who had also been on the debate team in high school, Bradley knew that those guys were also smart, which generally meant they were way more trouble than the typical jocks.
Clearly misconstruing his comment, Amelia frowned. “Listen, I know you were rocking the middle part and puka shell necklace when you were on the debate team, but it’s cool now…”
“Puka shell necklace?” your voice chimed in from the doorway. “Pete never mentioned that when he was telling me of your high school heroics.”
Bradley’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, well, it was the late 90s and I thought Pacey Witter was cool.”
“The 1990s!” Amelia feigned hysterics and got a chuckle out of you and Maverick. “Next you’re going to be talking about where you were on 9/11 -”
“I was in kindergarten, we couldn’t go outside for recess,” you teased.
You sat yourself between Bradley and Amelia on the sofa and he threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer. He knew you’d get cold soon, but didn���t want you to run inside to get your jacket or a sweatshirt just yet - he just wanted you beside him. Plus, there was also the fear that you’d get one of Maverick’s sweatshirts from inside if you forwent your jean jacket and that just wouldn’t do.
Amelia groaned, but still turned her attention back on you. “Okay, but you were definitely Joey Potter, breaking hearts left and right. No debate captains for you.” She stuck her tongue out at Bradley for good measure.
“Ha, I wish. No, I was actually kind of lame in high school, very angsty.” Bradley knew why, but Maverick and the Benjamins were still in the dark.
“Really?” Amelia frowned. 
It was easy to understand her confusion since you were just about the coolest person she knew - her words. Amelia had told Bradley so the first night he’d brought you over for dinner. Can you ask her where she got her sneakers? A couple weeks later, you and Bradley had gotten Amelia the very same sneakers for her birthday. She always blushed when you wore them at the same time.
So, the next words out of your mouth clearly surprised her. “Oh, yeah, I was knee deep in Mazzy Star and Vampire Weekend. The dark preppy vibe, if that’s even a thing?”
“Jesus, I wasn’t even that bad.” Bradley squeezed your shoulder and got a smile out of you with his teasing.
Maverick and Penny were talking off on their own, so you turned your full attention towards Amelia. “I was in a car accident my junior year of high school. Kind of set me back with school and then - well, private school kids are kind of vicious so…” 
“What happened? Sorry - that was -”
“- It’s oka -,” you started to say, then seemed to think better of it. Because nothing about that night had been okay. “I was in a car with someone and we got t-boned. I got pretty banged up, broke my right arm and leg. It seemed like I had a perpetual concussion for the next six months. He just broke his arm,” you finished wryly. 
He. 
He just broke his arm.
Bradley pursed his lips at the mention of Teddy Cavanaugh. Fucking prick. To say you’d gotten pretty banged up was putting it way too mildly. Thinking about it again made him just as upset as it had that night all those months ago on your fourth date when you’d told him the entire story. 
And more recently, Bradley had had the unfortunate experience of meeting Teddy over Thanksgiving when Bradley had played golf with your dad one afternoon up in Berkeley. As a rule, Bradley tried not to hate people on sight - at least not anymore. 
But god, he really fucking hated Teddy Cavanaugh. He wanted to fucking deck him on the first tee at Claremont Country Club. He wanted to slam his nine-iron into the Porsche 911 he was driving. And Bradley was pretty sure your dad did too. 
It was such a cunty move to get the same car.
Plus, what self respecting twenty-nine year old still went by Teddy anyway?
But the truth of what happened that night wasn’t exactly appropriate for a post dinner conversation, nevermind the fact that Amelia was only a year younger than you had been that night. 
The realization made Bradley freeze. 
You had only been a year older than Amelia when it happened. Amelia, who still slept with the stuffed cow her grandparents had gotten her for her sixth birthday. Amelia, who still played with her American Girl Dolls when she didn’t get invited to a friend’s house on Friday nights. Amelia, who still made Bradley a new welcome home banner after every deployment. Amelia, who still huffed whenever Bradley ruffled her hair as a hello. Amelia, who Bradley promised he’d teach how to drive that spring.
You were Amelia. You had been that young, that sweet, that trusting and Teddy Cavanaugh had thrown it all back in your face.
Bradley could feel his chest tighten, even as he ignored the chatter around him. Maverick and Penny had joined in whatever conversation you were now having with Amelia, but all Bradley could do was sit there. 
Without a word, he pulled you closer, so you were bundled up in his arms. It was still proper enough in front of his family, but he needed to have you close. Your legs were plastered together alongside Bradley’s right side and you burrowed yourself under the arm he draped across your shoulders. 
Everything was right as it should be. Bradley was with his family, Bradley was with you, here. Not on a carrier in the middle of the Pacific or the passenger seat of Mr. Cavanaugh’s Porsche. 
Here. And nothing bad was going to happen here.  
Soon, the conversation changed to whichever HBO show Amelia and Maverick were excited to watch later that night, while Penny went inside to get the dessert: s’mores. 
“‘You need any help?”
Penny waved you off. “I’m all set, everything’s already measured out.”
Once she was gone, Bradley pressed a light kiss to your shoulder and you shivered. “‘You getting cold, kid?” You nodded. “‘You want my sweatshirt?” 
“Please?”
“I’ve got one in the mudroom if -” 
“No, it’s fine,” Bradley cut off Maverick, “she can have mine.”
Quickly taking off his own sweatshirt and putting it over your head, Bradley didn’t even have the time to linger on how pathetic he sounded. Who did Maverick think he was, offering to let Bradley’s girlfriend borrow a sweatshirt? Didn’t he realize Bradley was more than capable of taking care of you?
“Thanks.” You smiled at him, now cozy and wrapped up in the still warm sweatshirt and Bradley nearly forgot why he had gotten so huffy in the first place. Nearly. 
“So,” Penny popped back out onto the patio with a heaping tray of marshmallows, a bowl of chocolate squares, and stacks of graham crackers, “who wants s’mores?”
“Me, me!” Amelia called, pushing her way towards the tray and subsequently dishing out the marshmallow sticks. 
Little shit gave Bradley the worst one, even knowing Maverick wouldn’t have any and therefore didn’t need one. As payback, he kept putting his marshmallow wherever Amelia’s was. It meant that he didn’t roast a single good marshmallow, but the glare she kept sending him was too funny to make him stop. 
Eventually, after Bradley had to blow out yet another marshmallow - Oh, shit! Not again! - you took over s’more duties. Just as well, really; yours were the best. You turned marshmallow roasting into an art form - a perfectly golden, gooey art form. While you didn’t eat any with graham crackers, you did have one you roasted over the fire with the chocolate already stuffed in the marshmallow. You smiled at Bradley’s shocked expression and then wordlessly made him three exactly like it.
All the while, you answered Penny’s questions about how your dad and Mary were doing and when they were next coming down to San Diego and if they would want to get dinner with her and Pete, just the four of them? But when you started nodding off against Bradley’s shoulder, he knew it was time for you both to head home. 
-------------
Mon, March 22, 1:43pm
How was your meeting? 
it was fine, but ran over and i didn’t get to have lunch before my one o’clock ☹️
At least have a snack or something, don’t want you wasting away on me, kid. 
i won’t! what’re you up to?
Stopped by the base for a bit, saw the guys and then went to the gym.
I might get a haircut later. 
you can’t get a haircut without me! i don’t trust you not to get it too short! plus i like it a little longer 
Oh yeah? 
i like when it gets curly at the ends, it’s always really soft too. can you wait till after the trip?  please bradley please?
Fine, but only because you begged me…
i’ll make it up to you later, promise and i did not beg you…
Or you could make it up to me now?
Is the office busy today?
no  it’s pretty quiet
You wore that navy skirt, right?
yeah with my white silk blouse 
What’d you wear underneath it?
bradley! i don’t know, boring underwear? 
You wanna show me? Just to check?
you can see when i get home, i’ll even try and sneak out a little early 
Wanna see now
Show me
fine, just give me a sec. i’ll go to the bathroom 
No
At your desk
Now
bradley!
Sweetheart I’m aching
[image: Mr. 7.5 Gs]
fuck holy shit bubs what were you doing before you texted me?
Jerking off, I’m bored
charming
Wanna be inside you
fuck bradley wish i was home to take care of you god you’re so pretty hold on
Keep thinking about you in your office, acting all proper and then I’d barge in and fuck you on that fancy desk of yours
[image: miss ‘the one day i’m wearing plain underwear’]
God such a good girl for me
Are you wet
mmmm  getting there this is so hot unless i get fired
I’d bend you over
Take you from behind
You’re always tighter that way
[Sent with Siri]
bradley
Need your mouth on me
I’d make you get on your knees and suck me off in front of the window
Fuck your throat
[Sent with Siri] 
bradley you’re not playing fair
No you’re not
Need more pictures of you
[Sent with Siri]
What do you want me to do? [Sent with Siri]
Shove your fingers up your cunt
Knuckle deep
[Sent with Siri]
I’d have to use three to feel like yours [Sent with Siri]
Need a video need to hear you too
[Sent with Siri]
[for bradley’s eyes only.mov]
Fuck you’re fucking gorgeous like that 
Always do just what I ask 
Fuck I need you so bad 
[Sent with Siri]
Need you too fuck [Sent with Siri] i can’t believe you got me to do that at work
When are you coming home? 
-------------
There was something up with you. The thought kept running through Bradley’s head Tuesday evening while he was on his run.
Bradley would never have described you as skittish, but that’s how you had been acting over the last couple days. You were still affectionate and kind and you. And had told him countless times how much you loved him and how happy you were that he was home. 
So, it had to be a physical thing. You were guarded whenever he touched you - whether you were being sexually intimate or he had just grabbed your waist to cuddle you closer on the couch or in bed. It was always your waist or stomach area, really. That was the hot spot.
At first, Bradley thought he’d been too rough with you that first time back, but he knew you trusted him enough to tell him if that was the case, so that was out. Plus, later that morning when you were riding him, you’d asked him to grab your hips so hard he’d leave behind marks. You liked whenever he marked you - and he liked whenever you marked him. And you weren’t shying away from sex with him, not at all. In fact, you were pretty insatiable.
Then, he’d thought you might have hurt yourself while he had been gone and had a scar or something that you hadn’t wanted him to see? But your skin was free of new blemishes, baring the zit on your cheek you’d been complaining about since Saturday night. 
At one point, Bradley had even contemplated that you might be pregnant. He had been gone for three months, an entire first trimester. But something about the theory didn’t sit right with him. 
First, you would’ve fucking told him on Friday night, especially after you both talked about waiting to have kids and how you were on the same page. Because Bradley wasn’t dying in an F-18 with a family at home. 
Then, there was the fact that you had an IUD and the possibility of getting pregnant on an IUD was even less than on the pill (<1% a year - he’d looked it up). And finally, you’d be showing by now, even if only a little bump. But now that he thought about it, in all the days that he’d been home and all the times you’d had sex, Bradley had only seen you completely naked once. One or both of you were always partially clothed. And he would have noticed - right? Your boobs were definitely bigger, but it wasn’t - that wasn’t it, no, he was sure you weren’t pregnant.
It had to be something about your body, your stomach in particular. Because you were still affectionate, still wanted him, were still relatively yourself, your boobs looked great, and you loved him. So, why did you practically jump out of your skin whenever Bradley’s hand grazed your stomach? 
He would give you until Friday to tell him on your own before he asked. That would be a week from when he’d gotten home, more than enough time. Plus, maybe being on vacation would get you to open up a bit? 
Because this just wasn’t you. You didn’t really keep any secrets from Bradley. He wouldn’t be so naive to say that he knew everything about you, but in general you were honest with him. Was there a hint in one of your emails? Some little detail he had glossed over in his haste to read any scrap of news from you, in your voice? Bradley had read all of them at least three times, some even more, but maybe he had missed something?
The run he’d gone on to clear his head left the problem no more clear than when he’d set off forty-five minutes ago. He ran up the back steps to the mudroom and toed off his sneakers before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. You’d be home soon, he needed to start dinner.
Last night, you’d marinated some steak tips and made some rice pilaf, while Bradley roasted some vegetables. There was plenty of leftover steak for dinner tonight, he just had to decide what to make with it. Taking a peek in the fridge, he took a quick inventory of anything you’d need to finish before leaving Thursday morning. A couple peppers laid in the crisper along with an eggplant, which stumped him as neither of you liked eggplant. He could do steak fajitas with those? There were always fresh tortillas around. Content with his plan, Bradley grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino from the side door and poured himself a glass. 
As he put the bottle back, his eyes landed on the chocolate cake, perfectly ensconced in glass snapware, on the top shelf. How the hell was there still leftover chocolate cake? In addition to what you’d had Friday night, the two of you had had some for breakfast Sunday morning - well, Bradley had had some for breakfast Sunday morning and you’d let him feed you a couple bites. He shut the fridge door with a little more force than necessary and started prepping the peppers and onions. 
You loved chocolate cake. And you’d worked so hard on it. Why the fuck weren’t you eating it? Plus, now that he really thought about it, you’d barely had a s’more at Maverick and Penny’s and instead kept yourself occupied by lovingly making Bradley’s for him. And then there were the egg whites.
It would be a lie to say that none of it had seemed off at the time, but looking at all the incidents together just showed how truly off things were. And then coupled with how off you were with other things like your clothes and stomach - oh. 
No way. No fucking way. That could not be it. 
No, no. You couldn’t be worried about how - 
Just as he was finishing up the peppers to go along with the onions he’d already prepped, Bradley heard the back door open.
“Bubs?” you called out, “I’m home!”
“Hey!” 
“How was your run?”
Bradley quickly washed his hands and went over to meet you in the mudroom. And there you were, looking polished and professional in a black tweed, sleeveless dress that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse at before you’d left for work that morning, thanks to the blazer you’d thrown over it. The bodice of the dress was decorated with what he hoped were functional gold buttons that were just begging to be ripped open. And to top it off, you were wearing semi sheer black tights and those black slingbacks he liked so much. 
Actually, you were leaning against the wall trying to unbuckle those slingbacks he liked so much. But all Bradley could focus on as you asked him about his afternoon was the curve of your hip and the fact that your breasts looked unreal in that dress.
His pretty girlfriend. His pretty girlfriend who looked so smart and absolutely fuckable right now. His. His. His. His -
You stopped trying to take off your shoes and shot him a questioning look as you approached. “Bradley?”
“Sorry, I uhh - yeah, it was fine. Saw the Thompsons finished their patio - is that a new dress?” His fingers idly brushed against the fabric and you froze. 
“Oh, uh, no. I’ve had it for a while. Since the move, I’ve been going through my clothes trying to see what I actually wear and - I know it’s a little small now, it keeps riding up my hips a bit, but I still think it looks nice on top…” You ventured out of the mudroom. “Does it look bad?”
No, it very much did not look bad on you. It was definitely tighter than anything you normally wore to work, but it looked good. And weary from the work day with your hair a little mussed and the dress a bit askew from when you tried to take off your shoes, you looked absolutely divine and Bradley had to have you immediately. 
“No! I’m just,” he goaded you further into the kitchen, “surprised you wore it to work - in a good way!” 
The shy look on your face gradually slipped away and you crowded into Bradley’s space. “In a good way, huh?”
His hands found their way to your waist and he waited for a reaction from you. Getting nothing but a smile, his thumbs rubbed circles along your hips and he brought you chest to chest. 
“I gotta ask, though?” You hummed. “Do these really work?” He dragged his fingers up and down the front of your dress, spending the slightest bit more time along the square neckline and your breasts.
“And what if they did?”
Bradley groaned your name and rested his forehead against yours. “Then I’d have to unbutton every last one of them right now.”
You kissed his neck, paying no mind to the stubble he had been growing since Friday night. If you’d asked, he would shave it in a second, but you loved the roughness against your neck and inner thighs. As your lips kept up their targeted attack on his neck and jawline, your right hand slid between your bodies to palm his cock through his athletic shorts. 
“But if you did that, then you’d have to take me right here…”
Barely a beat passed before Bradley grabbed your hips and plopped you down on the kitchen table. It shook under your weight. Your chest was heaving at the sudden action, in turn drawing his attention to your breasts and those tempting buttons. They reminded him of the ones on his old Naval dress coat from Oceana. 
“Lemme help you out there.” 
His nimble fingers made quick work of the four brass buttons that revealed your black lace bra. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell you were pleased he didn’t tear off any of the buttons. Knowing you, his spoiled, prissy girlfriend, the dress was probably expensive. Good.
Next, Bradley pushed the wide straps over your shoulders, leaving your black lace bra as his final impediment. “So pretty,” he muttered into your chest. Your head tipped back and you pulled him closer, deeper.
“You didn’t send me any texts today,” you barely got the words out as Bradley made quick work popping one of your breasts, then the other, out of your bra. It was technically a lie; he had texted you, but it had been a do you know where my Theragun is text, not a show me your pussy right now text. “I even wore pretty underwear for you.”
Bradley tutted against your left breast. “Guess I have to make it up to you now.” 
His mouth latched onto your nipple and he needled the little nub with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair and gave the ends the slightest little tug. 
“Thought about you all day, bubs,” you whispered the words against Bradley’s ear before nipping at the lobe. 
“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 
Today was the first time since he’d gotten home that you hadn’t fucked in the morning. You had had to hustle out of the house for an early meeting and even Bradley had an eight-thirty physical at the Naval Medical Center. There had barely been time for a heated makeout against the refrigerator - to say nothing of a good fuck - before you’d left with your lip gloss slightly mussed.
“Would’ve come home sooner if I knew you were wearing these fucking shorts.” You slipped your hand under the waistband of his compression shorts that were borderline painful at this point and grabbed his cock with an expert touch. 
“Fuck…” Bradley allowed your touches to go on for a few more moments before he pulled back, knowing he’d spend in your hand if you kept this up. “Hold on.” You pulled your hand back and he yanked his t-shirt off over his head and threw it on the breakfast bench. Your hands crept across his chest before they eventually rested on his shoulders. 
But now it was Bradley’s turn to touch you. Your tights felt particularly soft beneath his hands as he inched higher and higher up your thighs. He loved when you wore stuff like this, so prim and proper. Especially when you got all squirmy beneath him. Cheeky little thing. The heat was pouring off you where Bradley was touching you between your thighs, even though your underwear and tights. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer and press your lips to his in a bruising kiss. God, he could kiss you for hours; he never tired of it.
“Bradley…” you sighed through his ministrations. “More, bubs.” 
He smiled, of course, anything for you. Anything to be inside you. But first, he had to ask: “These the thick ones?” You froze under him. “The tights? The thick tights? Like from Thanksgiving?” 
They had a more formal name, but he was focused on other things at the moment, namely if he could rip a hole in them to get to you faster. Over Thanksgiving, he’d found out the hard way that your tights were often rip resistant. Which really put a damper on a portion of your wine cellar escapades. 
“Oh?” The furrow between your eyebrows disappeared. “Oh! The tights! No, no, they’re cheap ones from J Crew or something.”
Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 
He had to have you.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Bradley tugged at the seam of your tights and ripped a hole in them large enough for his hands - and his dick - to poke through. You sighed when he broke through the nylon and slid your panties to the side to circle your clit with his thumb.
“So good,” he muttered reverently. 
God, what a pretty picture you made. Dress rucked up around your stomach, chest bare, and pretty pussy on display just for him. 
“More, please, Bradley.” You whimpered while he teased you with one finger, then two. “Anything. Need it - you.”
“You get stressed out at work today?” You nodded and then burrowed your head against his neck, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. “Poor thing, da - I’ll take care of you, yeah. Make you forget.” 
Bradley thrusted his fingers deeper inside you, crooking them just slightly so you’d buck up against him. You bit his neck when he tweaked his fingers just right. There you go, just a little more and you’d be ready for him. God, he was aching. He couldn’t fathom teasing you anymore. He needed you, now. 
“Just need to slip inside you, sweetheart. You made it so perfect for me.” Wet. Hot. Tight. Perfect. His. “There we go, just like that, good girl.” Bradley took a moment to line his cock up and slid inside you in one motion. “Fuck,” he punctuated the word with your name, “good?”
“Yes, yes.” 
You got into a steady rhythm that kept increasing. The table creaked under your combined weight and had anything been on it, it surely would’ve toppled over by now. 
You tightened around his cock and met his hips thrust for thrust. A wave of heat swept over Bradley’s body and he could feel you slipping deeper into a lustful haze. Knowing he was also close and would be near useless in moments, he hiked your left leg higher up on his hip so your heel was digging into the back of his thigh, anchoring you to him. 
“That’s it, that’s it,” Bradley said mindlessly. 
Your faces were so close, you were breathing each other’s air, stealing the word’s off the other’s lips. Yours and mine are the same. You cried out suddenly and snapped your eyes up to meet Bradley’s brown ones. God, you were beautiful. You both were beautiful. This was beautiful. Being together like this was beautiful. It was wet and loud and messy, but it was beautiful. 
Everything about it.
“‘m so close,” he finished with your name on his lips like a plea. “Wanna wait for you.”
“Don’t, ‘ll be right there.”
His thrusts eventually got sloppier and slower, but he could still feel you clenching around him as he spent himself inside you. 
“Fuck,” he panted your name. “That’s it, that’s it.”
“‘s full, bubs.” Your nails dug into his shoulder, centering him so he could turn the focus back on you.
All he needed was a few more shallow thrusts and a punch of your clit to get you there alongside him. You came with a cry, utterly spent, but sated. 
Your legs relaxed their hold against his thighs, but you didn’t totally release him. Meanwhile, he pressed kisses across your cheeks and lips, before finding himself notched along your neck. 
“There you go, good girl. Did such a good job, huh. So beautiful.”
It was quiet between the two of you for a few moments, all Bradley could hear was your breaths panting against his cheek, while your index finger moved lazily across his shoulder blade. But then you started shaking. 
And at first he thought it was from being overstimulated until he realized you were shaking from silent giggles. Bradley picked his head up from where it was buried in your neck and leveled you with a look that had you properly bursting into laughter. He wanted to make some smart comment, something cheeky, but the gorgeous smile on your face had him losing his feigned stoicism and he started laughing right alongside you. 
“So,” you said after your laughter subsided, “what’s for dinner, bubs?”
--------------
The following morning, Bradley poked his head into the dining room where you’d made up your office for the day. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why you weren’t using the office upstairs, but he held back. He liked that you were downstairs, he liked that you were close to him. 
Of course he’d seen you work from home before. But there was something about seeing you holding meetings and taking calls for the first time in your home that made him smile. 
And though you were taking a half day to prepare for leaving tomorrow, Bradley knew you’d be checking your email and Slack for the rest of the afternoon before officially logging off for the next 10 days. 
10 days in Punta Mita - just the two of you, no distractions, no emails, no training runs, nothing but the sun, sea, sustenance, sleep, and sex. 
Just you and me, kid.
Bradley inched further into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m gonna go for a run, but should be back for lunch.”
You took out your Airpods before responding. “Sounds good, how much are you thinking?”
“Probably a quick 10k?” It had been ages since Bradley had run his usual route through Balboa Park, so these last few days had been a treat.
“‘A quick 10k,’ he says. I should be done by the time you get back?” He nodded. “We can have lunch and then I’ll head out on my errands.”
Errands? “Oh? I didn’t know you were going out?”
You sat up straighter and fully focused on him. “Yeah, I have to get my nails done and then have to pick up a couple things - like your special sunscreen...”
“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily. 
“Really?” You sounded surprised. “It’ll be pretty boring.”
“No, I wanna come with you.” I wanna spend time with you. 
A bashful smile appeared on your face. “Okay, I’m trying a new salon.”
“Ditching your old stomping grounds?” Bradley asked, referencing your old neighborhood near Gaslamp. 
You nodded your head. “Figured I’d try someplace around here, but the only one that looks promising is way up on 30th?”
“I think we can make due with that,” he pecked your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you in a bit, kid. Don’t work too hard.”
“Har, har, see you soon.”
Bradley shot you a wink and set off. Who knew, maybe he’d set a new PR in his haste to get back home to you?
And sure enough, after his quick 10k through Balboa Park and the surrounding neighborhood, Bradley bounded up the back steps and quickly disposed of his sneakers and his sweat stained grey t-shirt on the mudroom floor. It had been stupid to even wear one in the first place, he’d had to tuck it into his waistband before he hit the first half mile. 
“New personal record!” 
Your face lit up with a smile as Bradley came into the dining room. “See, now, how do I know you just didn’t milk a 3 mile run or something?”
He rolled his eyes and gestured down at his torso, which was gleaming with sweat, even in the soft mid-day lighting currently cloaking the dining room, and showed you his running app for good measure. “Does this look like I milked it?”
“Come ‘ere.” You held your arms out.
“I’m all sweaty, kid…”
“Nope, don’t care, please?”
Hey, if you weren’t going to complain that Bradley was too sweaty or smelled, then he wasn’t about to put you off. He wrapped his arms around you over the back of the chair and put his chin on the top of your head.
“You know, if you like the scent of someone’s sweat that means you’re soulmates…” 
“Is that right?” You sounded amused.
Bradley burrowed his face in your neck, forcing a giggle out of you even before he pressed butterfly kisses everywhere. “Mmmhhmm, yup. You always smell perfect.” 
“That’s just my perfume!” 
“Nope, just you kid.” 
Bradley could feel you relax and let out a sigh. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, content to just be with each other, until your Mac dinged with an Outlook notification. You stretched your arms out in front of you to reply to the email, but Bradley didn’t let you go. As he watched you type out a response to your coworker about if ESG investments were just virtue signaling or not, his eyes caught a glint of gold on your wrist.
“You really wear that bracelet everyday, huh?”
You turned your head to look up at him and he was pleased to note you looked incredibly flustered. “Of course I do. You got it for me.”
The matter of fact way you responded had him blushing. “Guess I’ll have to get you the necklace for your birthday…”
“You better not!” He just kissed your cheek. “Bradley, I’m serious! That’s too much - especially for just a birthday.”
“Then I’ll get it for you for our anniversary.”
“Bubs…” You were pouting now and it only made him want to get you the necklace more. “It’s too expensive for something like that; I looked it up online.”
“You’re no fun.” 
And so he would continue to be denied the pleasure of seeing you in the matching jewelry - at least until he wore you down. You did have a point, though - the necklace was almost twice as much as the bracelet. But then again, you bought Bradley little (and not so little) things all the time?
Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations. Bradley’s reply that it was only for ten days, not two weeks hadn’t exactly done him any favors. 
But it was a points game! It was practically free. (He knew it wasn’t, but…) And you were going dutch for all the incidentals and room charges. It was going to be perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. 
Ten glorious days of no work, no distractions, just the two of you. 
You turned around in your chair so you were properly facing him. “Do you want to get lunch out? Make an afternoon of it? We don’t really have much in the fridge, so it’s either lunch or dinner out and I know you still have to pack.”
A smile crept across his face and he kissed your nose. “I’d love to go to lunch with you. You sure you won’t get sick of me? All this one on one time?”
You just shook your head. “Nope, not that easily. Well, unless you sit next to me at the salon, I’m not very chatty while I’m getting a pedicure.”
“Woah, woah.” Bradley held his hands up and you grabbed one to examine it. “Since when am I getting my nails done?”
“You’re getting a pedicure at the very least. I don’t want to have to look at your weird feet on the beach all week.” 
“Oh-ho, now you’ve done it.” 
He bundled you up in his arms and started tickling your sides. That was your sweet spot. And hopefully if he was tickling you, you’d forget to be jumpy when he touched you there. He hadn’t forgotten about that.
“Bradley! Bradley,” you giggled. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. No pedicure.”
But Bradley did end up getting a pedicure, even if it only entailed getting his feet buffed. If pressed, he would say it was because he wanted to sit in the massage chair and the nail tech told him he could only sit in the chair if he was getting his nails done. That was the only reason why. It wasn’t because of how pretty you looked while you were smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, like you couldn’t believe he was really there.  
Absolutely not.
--------------
“Do you need any help packing?” 
Bradley nodded, he hoped he didn’t look too sheepish. At thirty-six years old, he absolutely could pack his own clothes, but he liked when you fussed over him and made sure your clothing was complementary to each other. It was sweet. Plus, you always packed stuff he hadn’t thought to bring or wear together.
The two of you were a well oiled machine. Bradley would roll his underwear, pajamas, and gym clothes into his packing cubes while you helped pick out his bathing suits and later his dinner and day clothes. To his great surprise, you managed to fit all his clothes - for ten days, mind you - into his Samsonite carryon. His toiletries and extra pair of shoes and other incidentals would go in his backpack.
Once his suitcase was zipped up and ready to go, Bradley nodded towards your Rimowa stashed by the bedroom door. “‘You need any help? You don’t normally check?”
You normally lived by the carry-on rule, so it seemed out of character for you to check a full-size bag. Which, of course, wasn’t the first thing that seemed out of character for you since Bradley had gotten home. But he promised himself he’d wait until you came to him with your problem. Or till Friday.
“Oh, uhh, yeah, I guess I just have more stuff this time.” You shook your head. “I packed earlier while you were taking a nap, but thanks.”
He clicked his tongue. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then.”
“Hmmm, I’ll let you see my shoes?”
Bradley sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his elbows. “You’d do that? For me?”
You giggled and then mimicked his pose on the bed, except you made sure to snuggle up next to him, all earlier awkwardness gone. “I’d do anything for you actually.”
“Sap.” He kissed you. 
“Nerd.” You kissed him. 
“See, now you’re killing the vibe,” he teased. You giggled and kissed his shoulder through his t-shirt. “You ready for tomorrow?” You nodded. “You’re not gonna get sick of me, right?”
You shook your head. “Never, even if you are a nerd who gets pedicures -”
“- I was coerced! The massage chair!” You giggled. “Alright, alright, walk me through tomorrow.”
At this point, Bradley was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while you were tucked under his arm, peering up at him. 
“We should leave by six if our flight’s at eight forty-five, especially if we want to go to the lounge beforehand. It’s spring break-ish and I’m not sure if it’ll be crazy in the terminal, so the lounge might be a good idea.”
“Got it, United lounge for breakfast, good.” 
“Flight’s like three hours.”
“Mmmmm, perfect for a nap.”
You chuckled. “I think we get in around one o’clock with the time difference and everything. The hotel’s sending a car and then it’s like an hour drive to Punta Mita.”
“So, if we play our cards right, we could be on the beach by three-o-one?”
“Oh, for sure,” you feigned seriousness, “If anyone can, it’s the two of us.”
And ain’t that the truth? Bradley held his hand up for a high five, which you heartily returned. “Nice job, kid. It’s gonna be great.”
Ten days. You and Bradley at some tony resort in Mexico. No cares, no worries for ten whole days. Fucking perfect. 
Everything was going to be perfect.
-----------
If at all possible, in the three months that he had been gone, Bradley had gotten even more handsome. 
Sure, you’d seen a grainy image of him every two or so weeks over Facetime and had noticed him mentioning going to the gym a lot on the carrier. You’d known he was going to look different. His hair was going to be longer and blonder and his skin darker. He was still your Bradley and you loved him all the same. 
But seeing him on the 16 inch screen of your Macbook compared to all six foot one inches of Bradley Bradshaw in person was an eye opener. 
Because you hadn’t been prepared for how it made you feel in comparison. Because he was so strong and fit and beautiful - and you didn’t think you were any of those things. Not anymore at least. Not after what happened.
Not after how often you’d been skipping pilates to spend some extra time in the office or all the meals you’d eaten on the go or out with clients. You should have taken your mother’s words to heart at lunch two weeks ago when she had told you to watch your figure, boys like Bradley are used to certain standards. 
That afternoon when you’d gotten back to your apartment, you’d gone straight to your walk-in closet and scrutinized every inch of your body in the full length mirror. 
Certain standards.
Why did you let her get in your head? Why did you let any of it get in your head? It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. None of it was true. 
Certain standards. 
And then, when you finally picked Bradley up on that cloudy, late March day, you wore an oxford of his and a pair of baggy jeans. You still looked cute, you still looked like you put in an effort, but you didn’t look as dolled up as some of the other wives and girlfriends and partners and maybe you should have? Maybe you should have worn a cute little sundress and forgotten your underwear or some other ridiculous thing? Let him fuck you in the back of the car right in the middle of the parking lot? 
That wasn’t you, though. That wasn’t either of you.
But Bradley loved you. He had told you in about 159 different ways (re. emails) while he was gone. He loved you, he wanted you, he was going to live with you, build a life with you. You knew he loved you no matter what you looked like. 
Certain standards.
But when he fucked you softly and slowly that first morning back - only after originally falling asleep on you, which you tried not to be too upset about - and you told him how much you loved him and missed him, you did so with the lights completely off and with your chemise on before snuggling in his arms. 
It was stupid. The entire thing was stupid. You knew that. And you knew you’d feel this way until you confronted Bradley and he ultimately proved you wrong. But doing that wouldn’t fully stop those feelings from brewing inside you either. 
And yeah, for the first few days you’d been too caught up in the ecstasy of him finally being home - in the home that you two finally shared - to really give it much thought. But tomorrow you were going on a ten day long beach vacation to Mexico and you couldn’t help but toss and turn all night wondering if you were up to certain standards. 
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a/n: oops! this was super long, sorry! but there's such an interesting story here and i'm so excited to show how it'll unfold in the next chapter when they're in mexico!
tagging a couple people: @sometimesanalice @withahappyrefrain @cherrycola27 @notroosterbradshaw @gigisimsonmars @pisupsala @dissonannce @laracrofted @heartsofminds @briseisgone
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rothpie · 7 hours ago
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❝FIDELITY❞ |part14
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MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank
Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.
Warnings: none (I guess)
previous - next
Witnessing Something You’ve Never Experienced 
There are moments in life—like when someone’s laughter makes you laugh, when you share their joy, or when you cry together—that are impossible to put into words. Watching someone else’s happiness is priceless. Maybe that’s one of the best things about being human: feeling their happiness as if it were your own. 
These were the simplest, purest emotions. And yet, when you saw Cleo and Pope smiling at each other, it was hard to keep your own happiness in check. It almost felt like it wasn’t their story, but yours. Like their vows added something to your life, too. 
You’d never been married. In fact, you’d never even come close to it. But as you listened to Cleo and Pope exchange vows, for a moment, you forgot about that emptiness inside you. Standing barefoot on the moonlit beach, watching them hold hands, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be. 
A gentle breeze mingled with the sound of waves breaking on the shore, creating a serene melody in the background. Standing on the sand, you realized how special this moment was. Everyone around you was smiling, even JJ. 
He stood a little apart from the crowd, lazily swirling a beer bottle in his hand as he watched the ceremony. His trademark smirk was there, but something about him seemed softer. As if he was sharing in the happiness in his own way. 
“You ready to head back?” JJ’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He had come up beside you, gesturing toward the lights at the edge of the beach with his beer bottle. 
You weren’t in the best shape, to be honest. 
You’d only known Cleo and Pope for four years—a long time, but not forever. You met them through JJ, yet your bond with them felt deeper than just friendship. Cleo, especially, felt like a sister to you. You loved them both and wanted to share in their happiness. 
It had been years since you’d felt like this. Your attachment to alcohol had ended alongside everything with Liliana, or so you thought. But now, Liliana was weaned, and you’d found a rare moment to be on your own. 
Cleo’s wedding wasn’t a grand affair; it was intimate, with close friends, family, and a few others. Your parents had even come. While they wished the same happiness for you, they also took Liliana with them when the reception started. It was their way of giving you a rare night of freedom. 
It wasn’t lost on you that they were doing this for you. Liliana was your baby, but in their eyes, you were still theirs. It was one of the rare times you could just be. A night to be young again. 
And JJ—well, you could tell your parents were secretly grateful for him too. They’d told him as much when they thought you weren’t listening. Your dad had even helped him out with work, quietly making sure JJ stayed on track. 
You were thankful for this time. For a little while, it felt like the old days. Not reckless or wild, just... young. 
And maybe you’d gone a little overboard. You’d been drinking and dancing all night. You weren’t sure how much, but it was enough to notice some concerned glances from people here and there. 
Still, it wasn’t just the alcohol. There was tension in you that you hadn’t let out. You hadn’t told JJ that you’d seen Rafe earlier. You just wanted to forget. But seeing him—especially when you were with your daughter—was a heartbreak all its own. 
After a moment of hesitation, you nodded. You didn’t feel sharp enough to respond with words, yet somehow, you felt like a genius. “I miss my house,” you mumbled, kicking at the sand. 
JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “Which house?” 
He grabbed your wrist gently, steadying you as you stumbled a bit. His touch moved to your hand, and you couldn’t help but follow his movements, your gaze dropping to the sand. 
“All of them,” you replied, your voice a little dreamy. Your answer made JJ laugh harder, the sound blending into the soft music playing in the background. His laughter—it suited everything, like it was a perfect fit for the moment, maybe even better than the music itself. 
“All of them? How many houses you got, sweetheart?” he teased, keeping a steady eye on you as if ready to catch you if you fell. 
“Two.” You held up two fingers to show him, wobbling slightly. JJ’s hand darted out to catch you by the arm while his other hand held yours firmly. 
“Yep, that’s our sign to head out,” he said with a smirk. His hand slipped to your waist as he pulled you closer, keeping you upright. Your bodies brushed against each other, and in your tipsy state, you didn’t have the energy to fight the thoughts that came next. 
You couldn’t help but look at him. JJ was one of those people you just had to look at. Admire. Worship, even. Had he really been right in front of you this whole time? What a snack. 
“So, one house is in Asheville,” he said, steering you toward your table to grab your bag. “Where’s the other one?” 
“You and Liliana.” 
JJ’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, he froze, trying to process what you’d just said. 
Then his gaze shifted, and he waved at Sarah and Pope, who were chatting nearby. He clearly chose to distract himself. It was just drunken rambling, right? No need to read into it. 
He knew better than to press the issue. You were drunk. That was all there was to it.
And while you were utterly drunk, he was completely sober. He’d only had one beer, because if you were falling apart like this, someone had to stay grounded to take care of you. The trip home had to be safe. That was his job, and he’d always make sure of it. 
You left the beach together, walking slowly. As the sand turned into a gravel path, the wind picked up, biting at your cheeks. JJ shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. Almost entirely leaning on him, you looked up with glassy eyes. “The stars look so beautiful, don’t they?” you asked, your voice carrying an unusual softness.
The house you’d rented wasn’t far. You had intentionally chosen a place close to the beach, for Liliana. When you arrived, JJ opened the door, turning to flash you a small smile. “Come on, let’s get inside. The wind’s going to make you sick,” he teased with a playful tone.
As you stepped inside, the happy scenes from the wedding were still vivid in your mind. Something felt different about tonight, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
JJ couldn’t believe you had made it all the way home. He was sure you’d pass out halfway through, but here you were, still standing—well, barely. He held you steady, watching as you stared at the house like you were seeing it for the first time. You smiled faintly as you spoke. 
“I can’t believe how much you drank. I mean—I didn’t even know you could drink that much.” 
He raised an eyebrow as you pursed your lips, clearly preparing a rebuttal. Despite your foggy brain, you still managed to respond. “I only had two shots,” you said confidently, holding up your fingers to emphasize your point. The attempt, however, was far from accurate.
JJ reached out to steady your hand, trying to refocus you. “Two shots and, what, a whole bottle of vodka?” he replied with a smirk. 
You threw your head back, laughing loudly. JJ’s lips quirked into a grin as he listened to your laughter, his hand brushing against your back in a comforting way. He had watched you all night—dancing with him, going wild with Cleo, chatting with Sarah—and at every moment, a drink had been in your hand, always nearing empty. 
“No!” you exclaimed, poking his chest with your finger as if trying to push him away. JJ didn’t budge an inch. Instead, when you stumbled back, he placed both hands on your waist to steady you.
“Alright, come here,” JJ said gently, his tone calm yet firm. He figured you needed to sit down before you hurt yourself. “Let’s get your shoes off before you end up face-first on the floor,” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice. He guided you back to lean against the wall. 
He crouched down to untie your shoes quickly, his movements brisk but careful. It was obvious he was afraid you’d trip and hurt yourself. When he finished, he set your shoes by the door and stood up. His gaze immediately met yours. You had been watching him the entire time, tracking his every move. 
You threw your arms around his shoulders and looked at him with a drunk, adoring smile. “Your eyes are blue,” you said in awe, studying his face as if it were the first time. 
JJ raised his eyebrows, his lips parting slightly. He wanted to pull back and figure out if you were serious, but then he remembered how drunk you were. His lips twitched into an amused grin. “Wow. Five years of living together, and you’re just now noticing?” he teased.
You had no idea what you were doing. You felt like a fool, detached from any sense of self-control. Your thoughts were jumbled, and logic had left the building. You leaned in closer, your heavy-lidded eyes fixated on his face. “Your dimples… they’re really cute,” you whispered.
JJ took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. His heart raced, which annoyed him more than anything. He tried to pull away from your embrace, turning his head as he gently pried your arms off his neck. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk,” he muttered, letting your hands drop but still holding onto your wrists to keep you steady.
Suddenly, your breath hitched, and JJ’s attention snapped back to you. His expression shifted as he watched your face, now filled with a mix of worry and sadness. “I didn’t kiss Liliana,” you said in a mournful tone. “Before bed—I didn’t give her her goodnight kiss. I have to do it.”
JJ froze for a moment, trying to process your words. Liliana had been gone for hours, staying with her grandparents. She wasn’t even in the house, and there was no way you’d remember that right now. “Hey, hey. Liliana’s asleep, okay? You can’t kiss her now. You’ll wake her up,” he said soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. He didn’t dare remind you she wasn’t there; that would only lead to a meltdown.
You rested your head on his shoulder, your voice soft and sad. “But I needed to kiss her…”
JJ smiled faintly, brushing his hand over your hair. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can kiss her in the morning. Let her sleep now.”
Lifting your head, you looked at him intently, your gaze almost too focused for how drunk you were. JJ frowned slightly, sensing the shift in your demeanor. There was something behind your eyes—something determined. It made his chest tighten with unease, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 
“You’re awake,” you said suddenly, as if realizing a profound truth. 
JJ raised an eyebrow, looking at you in utter confusion. He took a step back. "Huh?"
Despite his retreat, you stepped closer. JJ swallowed hard as you approached, suddenly feeling trapped—vulnerable, even. Thoughts he had no business entertaining were creeping into his head. After all, it was you. You. His friend. His roommate. Yet, he could tell by your innocent tone that you meant nothing by it, and maybe that’s what he hated the most—because those innocent words were pulling his mind into places it didn’t belong. 
“You’re awake, so I can kiss you,” you said, your voice far too nonchalant for the chaos it stirred in him.
JJ quickly stepped back, holding up a hand to stop you, his face turning away as if looking at you directly might break his resolve. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said, his tone soft but firm. You were drunk, and there was no way you meant what you were saying. If you were sober, those words wouldn’t have left your lips. No matter what you said, he was getting you to bed and leaving you there to sleep it off.
“Why? If I can’t kiss Lily, can’t I kiss you? You’re awake! Besides—this is just a goodnight kiss,” you insisted with a faint smile, your tone bordering on teasing. 
Those words sparked something deep within JJ, something unfamiliar and unsettling. You two had never crossed this kind of line before. He’d never seen you look at him like that. And for the first time in years, you were drunk. He knew you hadn’t touched alcohol since Liliana. He also knew how much of your life had been shaped around her absence. Tonight, though, was different—you were drunk, and it was obvious your body wasn’t handling it well.
Even though he knew your words were soaked in alcohol, JJ couldn’t stop the heat creeping up his neck. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how it made him feel. 
JJ exhaled and shook his head, a defeated sort of gesture. He knew you meant nothing by it. There was no way this was anything more than innocent—it had to be. Besides, you were drunk. “Alright, fine. You can kiss me on the cheek,” he said, hoping to diffuse the moment, to get you to let this go. You were speaking without thinking, but his brain was taking your words to places he wished it wouldn’t.
JJ turned his head slightly, offering his cheek as he braced himself, standing as still as a statue. It wasn’t as if this was the first time you’d kissed each other on the cheek. It was a friendly gesture, a sign of affection. You were close—roommates raising a kid together. You spent almost every waking moment together. It was impossible not to care deeply for each other—as friends, of course.
But this? This felt different. Something about the situation was wrong. Whether it was the alcohol he’d had earlier, his own overthinking, or something entirely to do with you, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that, for the first time since you’d moved in, his mind was wandering into territory it had no business exploring. It was like he was just now realizing—or maybe finally acknowledging—that something had shifted between you two.
JJ couldn’t shake the unease in your presence tonight. He was used to being around you, practically glued to your side at all times. But this? Drunk you? That was a new one. Well, aside from those wild parties in your younger days, though even then, he’d usually seen you from a distance—usually surrounded by people. Or… with that fuck-face.
And now here you were, just the two of you, and it felt like uncharted waters. JJ had been drunk around you before, sure, but he could hold his liquor. He didn’t drink often, but when he did, it wasn’t new territory for him.
JJ glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you took another unsteady step closer. His hands were still on you, steadying you, keeping you upright. He felt his tension rise with every passing second, his stomach twisting in knots. All he wanted was to let you kiss his cheek, put you to bed, and be done with this excruciating moment.
Then he felt it—your fingers slipping from his grip, brushing against the stubble on his freshly-shaven cheek. The light, almost hesitant touch sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t even turn his head fully to face you; he just stood there, keeping his gaze flitting between you and the floor. Your touch was nearly enough to make him close his eyes and lean into it, but the reminder of your drunken state snapped him back to reality.
As you swayed closer, your weight pressed into him. JJ quickly steadied you, hearing the soft giggle escape your lips. “Oops,” you muttered, your laughter muffled against his chest. 
He hated this—hated everything about it. Hated the situation, his thoughts, and most of all, how he was feeling. For the love of God, you were drunk, and the thoughts running through his mind were nothing short of sinful. How had he sunk so low as to let his brain spiral like this over a drunk woman—his best friend?
When your lips finally pressed against his cheek, JJ exhaled shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. You’d kissed him on the cheek plenty of times before, but this? This felt different. This kiss lingered too long, carrying a weight he couldn’t explain—a spark that was entirely new and unsettling.
When your lips didn’t move away, JJ gently pulled back, clearing his throat as he steadied you by the waist. As he turned his head back toward you, his eyes briefly—and accidentally—flicked to your lips. He quickly dragged his gaze back up to your eyes, cursing himself internally. He shouldn’t have looked. 
Clearing his throat again, JJ felt his face flush with heat. His prayers for composure were no match for the image of your lips—now cherry red, like they’d been painted that way. It wasn’t the lipstick you’d put on earlier. That had smudged and faded hours ago. Had your lips always been this red? Or was this something he was only now noticing? 
The moment he realized his eyes had drifted back to your lips, it felt like death itself. He needed to stop this. It was weird—no, terrifying. You were drunk, and he was completely sober. 
JJ took a deep breath and looked at your face. It was like you were staring straight into his soul, as though trying to pull everything he was out of him with just your gaze. "Okay," he muttered, trying to compose himself. He leaned on the thought that you'd forget this by morning, that you wouldn't remember any of it. If you were sober, he wouldn't dare let his eyes linger on your lips this long. "Well, since we’ve got the goodnight kiss out of the way—" 
JJ stopped mid-sentence when he felt your hand on the collar of his shirt. The proximity was already absurd—he’d only been holding onto you to keep you from falling—but this? This was nowhere near what he’d expected. Your grip tightened, and before he knew it, you pulled him closer. His eyes widened, and in the next instant, he found himself on your lips. 
His mind blanked. He didn’t even have the sense to close his eyes, as if keeping them open might confirm the absurdity of this moment. It couldn’t be real—it shouldn’t be real. 
The shock rendered JJ motionless. This wasn’t a passionate kiss. You weren’t moving; you just held your lips against his. Yet JJ was sure he was about to have a heart attack. 
Just the touch of your lips sent his heart into a frenzy. He was either dying or dreaming, and neither seemed plausible. 
But it didn’t take long for reality to sink in. He pulled away quickly, stumbling back. His hand darted out to steady you, but he didn’t dare come any closer. He had no idea what to make of what had just happened—or how he was supposed to feel about it. 
God, you were drunk. So drunk. 
“Stop,” he said firmly, though his voice shook slightly. He’d messed up. This wasn’t supposed to happen—none of it. And yet he swore he could still feel your lips on his. He regretted this. You wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, but he wouldn’t forget. “You’re going to regret this when I tell you in the morning.” 
He wouldn’t tell you. He couldn’t. Losing your friendship wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. More than that, he couldn’t bear the thought of being cut out of your life—or Liliana’s. No, he couldn’t lose the family he’d found. Not over one night. 
The words had only been meant to stop you, to get you to back off and let the moment end. He needed you to listen. Then he could put you to bed and get through the night without ever feeling your lips again, without remembering how soft they were or the feeling of having you this close. 
Shit. 
“I won’t,” you said stubbornly. 
JJ squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand over his temple as if trying to think straight. You had no idea what you were doing. You were drunk. You’d regret kissing him. And if he ever saw that regret on your face, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. 
Even though you were the one who kissed him, he still felt responsible for this. He shouldn’t have let you get this close. He should’ve gotten you to bed and let you sleep it off. 
JJ took a steadying breath, searching your gaze for something—anything—that might reassure him. Maybe a glimmer of awareness, a sign you understood what was happening. But you were too far gone. You wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. And even if you could think straight, the kiss was wrong. And you saying you wouldn’t regret it? That was wrong too. “You will,” he said softly but firmly, his voice unwavering. He wrapped an arm around yours and started guiding you to your room. He just wanted to erase this moment from his memory. 
Not because he didn’t like it—he couldn’t let himself think about that. Whether or not he liked it didn’t matter. You were drunk, and you’d crossed a line. Worse, he’d let you. If you were sober, you wouldn’t have kissed him or gotten this close. And that hurt more than anything else. 
You went quiet as you leaned against his arm. The silence persisted as he helped you to the edge of the bed. Gently, JJ eased you down to sit. You stared at the floor, saying nothing. JJ hated the silence. This shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, low and strained. “This is wrong... We’re friends.” 
JJ knelt in front of you, meeting your eyes. He knew that. You knew that. But the weight of your actions was already heavy on him. You’d kissed him, and he was already regretting it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how you’d feel when he told you in the morning. Would it change things between you? He wasn’t ready to lose you—or Liliana. He wanted a lifetime of memories with both of you, of raising her together and laughing through it all. He couldn’t lose that. “Yeah, we’re friends,” you murmured softly. 
The silence stretched again, and then, out of nowhere, your shoulders began to shake. You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling, your quiet sobs breaking the stillness. JJ’s eyes widened in shock. Seeing you cry tore at something inside him. He didn’t even know why you were crying. Maybe a piece of your clarity had returned. He didn’t want that—not now. 
Hesitating for only a moment, JJ pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. 
You didn’t answer. JJ tilted his head, resting his forehead against yours. The warmth of your breath ghosted over his skin as you shifted. When your nose brushed against his, JJ inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut. His hands slid down your back, settling at your waist. You still didn’t speak, but your movements spoke volumes. JJ exhaled shakily, like he’d just lost a battle with himself. “You need to stop…” he whispered. 
Suddenly, you lifted your head, and the space between you seemed to vanish. JJ’s breath hitched. He wanted this to stop—he needed it to. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself if it didn’t. He’d never thought of you this way, never imagined having your lips on his. But now that it had happened, everything felt… right. 
Except it wasn’t. 
You were drunk, and this was so, so wrong. 
But when your lips touched his again, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 
When JJ felt your noses brush again, he let out a shaky breath, unable to open his eyes and meet yours. He wasn’t even sure who had started it this time. But when your lips met again, JJ felt... found. Like he’d discovered something he hadn’t known he was searching for. In that moment, he pushed everything else aside—all the rules, all the lines he wasn’t supposed to cross—and tightened his arms around your waist. Instead of pulling back, he gave in, even if just for a moment.
As your lips moved together in perfect rhythm, JJ could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. If he’d known it would feel this right, he wouldn’t have waited until now to kiss you. Hell, he’d have done it ages ago. When your hands gripped his collar and tugged him closer, JJ didn’t resist. Taking advantage of the way you shifted back on the bed, he let you guide him, following your lead as his hand instinctively slid to your neck.
The kiss broke momentarily as you both gasped for air, but before either of you could even think, your lips found each other again. JJ forgot everything—every rule, every fear, every reason this wasn’t supposed to happen. The only thing that mattered was you. Just you. 
When your fingers tangled in his hair, JJ realized he was completely at your mercy. You were insatiable, like you couldn’t get enough of him. And when your kisses turned more fervent, more desperate, he understood the shift. This wasn’t a sweet, affectionate kiss anymore. This was raw, unrestrained desire. When a soft, breathy moan escaped your lips, JJ froze.
Self-loathing hit him like a freight train. He couldn’t believe he’d let it happen again. With a jolt of awareness, he pulled back abruptly, putting distance between the two of you. As he took in the scene—the two of you on the bed, him hovering over you—he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let himself take advantage of you like this. 
“You’re drunk,” JJ said, his voice unsteady, his breath uneven. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” His hands trembled as he held himself back. Deep down, he wished you weren’t drunk. He wished this could be real.
Your gaze met his, and tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice cracking. But JJ knew he was the one who should be apologizing. Tomorrow morning—if he ever found the courage to bring this up—it would be on him. He was the one who was sober. He was the one who should’ve known better. He shouldn’t have let you pull him in, shouldn’t have let himself fall for it.
JJ took a deep breath and carefully helped you lie back on the bed. He brushed your hair back gently, his chest heavy with regret. Not regret for kissing you, but for doing it when you were drunk. For crossing a line when you wouldn’t even remember it. “Get some sleep, okay?” he said softly, trying to push the guilt from his tone.
As he started to pull away and leave the room, you caught his hand. “Don’t go,” you whispered.
JJ swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He shook his head slowly, refusing to look at you. “I can’t,” he said quietly. Staying would only make it worse—make him hate himself even more. But then he looked at you, and his resolve crumbled. He cursed himself silently. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was.
“Please,” you said, your voice barely audible. JJ’s eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching. The second he walked out of that room, he knew he’d be sick. He couldn’t believe he’d let things go this far, couldn’t believe he’d put you in this position. You were his friend, and you wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a single moment.
God, he wished you were sober. If you woke up and remembered everything—if you looked at him with disgust—he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He couldn’t.
“Fine,” he said, defeated. He was terrified—terrified of you waking up and hating him. “Close your eyes,” he murmured without thinking. He couldn’t take the way you were looking at him. That look only made the guilt gnaw at him even more.
You did as he asked, your eyes fluttering shut. JJ let out a long, heavy sigh and sat down beside you. He leaned his head back, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself under his breath, “Why do you make me hate myself like this...”
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It was close to 3 a.m., and you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You’d been awake for hours, but the dull ache in your head and the strange fog clouding your mind refused to lift. Some parts of last night were blurry—there were flashes of laughter, dancing, the wedding… but the details were frustratingly out of reach. 
You sat curled up on the corner of the couch, sipping your coffee slowly, the warmth doing little to ease your unease. Across the room, JJ was in the kitchen, fiddling with the kettle as if it was the most intricate puzzle in the world. Normally, you were used to his easygoing, morning-person energy, but this wasn’t it. His movements were precise, almost tense, and his face carried a weird stiffness. You couldn’t make sense of it. 
“My head hurts,” you finally said, breaking the suffocating silence. You were tired of his strange behavior. 
JJ glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. With a faint, almost forced smile, he said, “Not surprised.” But his tone betrayed something deeper, something unsaid that hung in the air. 
“Not surprised?” you asked, frowning. “You’re acting weird, JJ.” 
He shrugged, putting the kettle back down and leaning against the counter. His fingers raked through his hair, a telltale sign that something was bothering him. Still, he avoided your eyes. “I’m just… tired. You know, long night and all.” 
But you knew it wasn’t just exhaustion. You could feel it. “Did something happen?” you asked, studying his face carefully, hoping to find a clue. 
“No,” he said too quickly, his voice sharp before softening a beat later. “No, really. Just… the usual.” 
His vague response only unsettled you further, but you decided not to press him. Not right now. Your headache and the foggy haze in your mind were draining enough without getting into a confrontation. 
When you glanced at the clock and noticed how late it had gotten, you suddenly straightened. “I need to pick up Liliana,” you said abruptly. 
JJ hesitated, his head turning to look at you like he was searching for something in your expression. “Alright,” he said cautiously. “Are you good to drive?” 
“Yeah,” you replied, grabbing your bag and standing up. “She’s probably missing us by now. I should get going.” 
JJ didn’t respond right away, just nodded slowly. His gaze stayed on you, heavy with something unspoken. It was like he wanted to stop you, to say something, but couldn’t find the words. 
As you headed to the door and bent down to put on your shoes, you could still feel his eyes on you. It was unnerving. Pausing for a moment, you glanced back at him. “We’ll talk later,” you said, keeping your tone light but purposeful. 
JJ gave another nod. “Yeah. We’ll talk.” But his words carried a weight far greater than they should have. 
Sliding into the driver’s seat of your car, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling in your gut. JJ’s behavior, your pounding headache, and the scattered, blurry memories from the night before were all swirling together, leaving an uneasy knot in your stomach. 
As you started the car and pulled onto the road, your phone lit up on the passenger seat. The screen showed Sarah’s name flashing as she called. Reaching over, you grabbed the phone, the knot in your stomach tightening as you answered. 
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Rafe hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a very long time. When he left Sarah’s house days ago, his steps were slow and heavy. Inside, a storm was raging. His thoughts collided, each crashing harder than the last. Talking to Sarah had been like a slap in the face with the truth he’d tried so hard to avoid. Hearing the things he didn’t want to hear—it had turned his whole world upside down. 
Once, he’d believed the life he was living was normal. Or maybe he’d just convinced himself of that. The life he’d shaped with his own choices, every step calculated to reach his goals... He had sacrificed everything for them. Absolutely everything.
And now, there was an emptiness inside him. He’d achieved the goals he’d fought for with relentless ambition and passion, but what had they given him in return? Monotony. A quiet restlessness. His soul was weighed down with a sense of suffocation he couldn’t even admit to himself. 
The moment he saw you and Liliana, everything changed. That’s when it all hit him. The scene played over and over in his mind—your icy gaze, Liliana’s delicate features that mirrored his own... her tiny hands, her green dress... Those images were burned into his memory. No matter what he did, he couldn’t erase them. 
He couldn’t sleep peacefully anymore. The moment he closed his eyes, he found himself lost in a vivid dream. He was holding you in his arms, playing games in the garden with Liliana. In those dreams, he clung to the illusion of a life he might have had, a life as a father with his own family. But every morning, he woke to the harsh truth. You weren’t his. Liliana wasn’t his. That life wasn’t his. 
Even throwing himself into work hadn’t helped. His mind wandered constantly, his thoughts overpowering him. There seemed to be no escape. For days, he’d stopped working entirely. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to just stop. To think. To try to figure out what was right. 
But he never expected to see you again. For four years, there had been nothing from you. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to find out where you or your family were. But you’d completely cut him off. You’d disappeared from his world. 
And now, after seeing you again, he didn’t know what to do. Should he fight to bring you back into his life, or was he meant to keep paying for the mistakes of his past? 
Every night, he dreamed. He dreamed of making you and Liliana part of his world, even though he knew it was impossible. In those dreams, Liliana’s laughter echoed, and you smiled at him. But that smile had been lost to him in the real world long ago. 
Calling Sarah had been a desperate act. He just needed to hear something—anything that could help. Again and again, he’d been met with Sarah’s irritated tone on the other end of the line. “What do you want now?” she’d asked, her exasperation unmistakable. 
And Rafe’s answer was always the same: “Hey... I just... I need a favor.” 
Rafe had realized his life was an illusion. The structure he thought he wanted was nothing but a trap. Seeing you had made that painfully clear. The dream of a life he might have had—holding you in his arms, hearing his daughter’s laughter, playing with her—had carved itself into his mind. But could those dreams ever become reality? Or had the wreckage of the past already swept everything away? 
These questions had no answers, but Rafe had made a decision. For the first time, he felt truly lost and defenseless. The only promise he made to himself was not to repeat his mistakes. Or at least, this time, he would try. 
To start, he knew he needed help. Calling Sarah, asking for her help—it meant swallowing his pride, but there was no other choice. “I just need to know where she is, Sarah,” he’d pleaded over the phone, his desperation seeping into every word. 
Sarah’s reply had been sharp and definitive. “Cut the crap, Rafe. I’m not giving you her address. And if you bother her one more time, I swear you’ll ruin what’s left of the relationship between us too.” 
The call ended. It hit him like a cold slap, but Rafe didn’t give up. He called again. Sent messages. Pushed Sarah to the edge of her patience. Eventually, he got a sliver of information. She mentioned a gas station stop. It was his only chance. Today.
He didn’t hesitate. He jumped into his car and sped off, his mind a whirlwind. His heart pounded, his hands gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline. 
When he arrived at the gas station, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes searched for you, and finally, there you were. Through the store window, he saw you picking something off the shelf. Your eyes narrowed slightly, as if lost in thought. 
For a moment, all he could do was watch. His feet felt rooted to the ground. But then he took a deep breath and forced himself forward, one heavy step at a time, toward the door. His heart raced faster with every step, his mind repeating, Is this the right thing? But he had no choice. He needed to see you. He needed to talk to you. 
When he opened the door, the bell chimed softly. You turned your head, your eyes meeting his. In that instant, the world seemed to stop. Your gaze held a mix of surprise and anger, but no matter what, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. 
Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets, hesitating as he walked toward you. His shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes unsure. He stopped a few steps away, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth, but no words came out. 
“Hey,” he said finally, his voice trembling just enough to betray him. 
He watched as your eyes scanned him, waiting for a response. The silence between you felt heavy. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone flat, devoid of any warmth. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. You didn’t take your eyes off him. 
Rafe had expected anger, maybe even an outburst. But the coldness in your voice—it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It hit him somewhere deep, leaving a dull ache in its wake. 
Rafe cleared his throat and briefly lowered his gaze to the floor. He’d imagined seeing you before he arrived but hadn’t thought about what he’d actually say. He tried to slip his hands into his pockets but stopped himself. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. "I—I just wanted to say hi." 
Your face fell into an impassive mask. The disdain for him was clear, and Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe under the weight of it. "Alright. Hi." 
Rafe forced a smile as he looked at you, his expression nervous but determined. "Hi." The silence between you stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Desperate to shift the mood, Rafe mumbled, "You look really beautiful, by the way." 
Your face immediately hardened, and your eyes flashed with anger, as if you couldn’t believe what he had just said. The hiss that escaped your lips made Rafe regret his words instantly. He’d crossed the line. "Cut the nonsense, Rafe. Can you leave, please?" 
Rafe tensed but took a step back. His hands remained buried in his pockets, and he dropped his head slightly, cursing himself. He’d had one chance, and he’d ruined it—like he always did. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled before lowering his hand again. "I—I’m sorry. Really." 
He had barely turned to leave when your voice stopped him cold. 
"For what?" 
Rafe froze, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned back, confusion etched across his face. He understood the question, but was this really the time for this conversation? Of course, he expected you to hate him. He just hadn’t thought he’d get under your skin so quickly. "What?" 
"For what are you apologizing?" you repeated, your voice shaking but firm. Despite being in a public place, you struggled to keep it down, your anger barely restrained. "Did you honestly think you could just show up and casually talk to me? Like this is some kind of fucking joke?" 
Rafe raised his hands in a helpless gesture. Of course, you were right. What had he been thinking? "No. I—I just wanted to see if you were okay." 
Your brows knitted together as you crossed your arms, stepping closer to him. Rafe felt his entire body tense. "That’s none of your business. Why do you even care if I’m okay? You didn’t care five years ago." 
Rafe dropped his head. No matter what you said, you would always be right. He didn’t even have the words to defend himself. "I know." 
"You know?" Your voice climbed, sharp and incredulous, as you jabbed a finger toward him. "Fuck off, Rafe!" 
His breathing quickened, but he didn’t back away. This wasn’t how he imagined this would go, but—what did he expect? That you’d run into his arms and forgive everything he’d done? He had deluded himself into thinking you were still the person he used to know. "Look, I’m trying—" 
"I don’t want to hear it!" You raised a hand to cut him off, your voice louder than you intended. 
Rafe took a step closer. "I swear—" 
"I don’t want to hear it!" you yelled, your voice trembling but resolute. Rafe exhaled deeply, defeated. He hated this. Hated himself. He’d never be anything but a source of shame in your eyes. 
Rafe fell silent, guilt etched into every line of his face. He ran a hand through his hair, then took a step back. The quiet between you became unbearable. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as the words forced their way out. "It’s over. It’s been over for years. That’s it. You didn’t want—" 
"Don’t say it," Rafe interrupted, his voice low but thick with emotion. Every word was weighted with regret. 
"You said, ‘Get rid of it!’ You didn’t want it! That’s why it ended," you snapped, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. You didn’t back down, though. Rafe hated seeing you like this, hated knowing he was the reason for it. 
Rafe spread his hands helplessly, unsure of what to do. If you had told him back then, he would’ve accepted it with joy. But back then, he’d been a fool—a selfish, spineless coward desperate for his father’s approval. "I wasn’t thinking straight!" 
"Don’t give me that shit, Rafe." A bitter laugh escaped your lips, almost like you were exhaling your pain. You turned your gaze away, shaking your head. 
"I wasn’t in a good place," he whispered. But even he knew that no excuse could erase what he’d done. He wasn’t trying to absolve himself—he couldn’t. He was just…lost. 
Your laughter cut through him, sharp and bitter. "Right. Because your mistakes were all about your ‘bad mental state.’ Not because you’re just a shitty person! Enough, Rafe! This conversation is pointless. You’ve got a new life—without me. And we’ve got ours—without you. Let it go." 
You gave him one last look, lowering the finger you’d been pointing at him. Turning on your heel, you took a step to leave. 
Panic flared in Rafe’s chest. He couldn’t let it end like this. He’d made every mistake imaginable, but he couldn’t bear to add another one to the pile. He had to try. And if it didn’t work—well, at least he tried. 
"I want to meet her." 
You stopped in your tracks. The step you were about to take hung in the air before slowly retreating. You turned to him, eyes blazing with fury. 
"Liliana—" 
"Don’t you dare!" you shouted, pointing a trembling finger at him as you stormed toward him. Rafe stayed rooted in place, letting your fury wash over him. Of course, you were angry. You had every right to be. He just wished—wished he could turn back time and fix everything. "How dare you? Do you think it’s that simple?!" 
Rafe recoiled slightly, carefully choosing his words. He didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had—or dig himself into an even deeper hole. "I don’t mean to say the wrong thing." 
"I don’t care what you mean!" you snapped, your voice cutting through him like a knife. He watched as your expression shifted, protective and fierce. "You’re not meeting her!" 
"Don’t make me use force," Rafe said, his voice trembling but firm. He regretted it instantly. He shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t true. He’d never do that. Never. It was a fleeting moment—an impulsive lapse. He needed to think before speaking. Shit.
You flinched. Then, with a bitter laugh, you stepped closer and shoved him in the chest. Rafe let you. He shouldn’t have spoken like an idiot. He should’ve stayed calm. 
“What are you going to do? Sue me? Go ahead! Does your father even know you have a kid? Everything you’ve built—your stupid little empire—it’ll all crumble! Are you really going to do it? Because you won’t. You’re a coward, and you always have been.”
Rafe’s eyes hardened. “I will,” he said, his tone low but sharp with determination. He could. He had the power. Lawyers, connections—it was all on his side. But he couldn’t do it to you. 
You froze, staring at him in shock. 
Rafe stepped closer, taking a deep breath and holding out his hands as if trying to calm the storm. He didn’t want this to escalate, and he knew you didn’t want it either. "But I won’t do that. That’s not the point. I want to be in Liliana’s life. I’m going to tell my father.”
You watched his brows furrow as he exhaled. You were right—if he wanted to be a father, his family needed to know. And if you allowed it, they had a right to be informed. But even if you didn’t allow it, he’d still tell them. They wouldn’t take it well. He couldn’t predict what would happen, but he was done hiding. He was done being a coward. 
“What?” you asked, disbelief and frustration tightening your voice.
“I’m going to tell them. No matter what.” He took a deep breath, his voice softening. It was almost as if the confident man standing before everyone else had deflated before you. He could barely hold your gaze. He knew he didn’t deserve you.
“You’re lying,” you said, stepping back. Your voice carried not just doubt but a deep-rooted unwillingness to believe him. You didn’t want to.
“I swear I’m not.” Rafe lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a certainty that startled you. He would do it. In fact, he should have done it from the beginning, back when you told him you were pregnant. He was already too late.
You didn’t want to believe him. But the resolve in his eyes—he’d never looked more sincere. 
Rafe drew in a deep breath and spoke, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I want them to know. Everything. I—” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “I’m not making any more mistakes. I can’t afford to.”
Your brows knit together, your face hardening. You took a long, deliberate breath, though it was clear you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “Rafe, if this backfires on us—I don’t want it. I don’t want Liliana or me dragged into this mess.”
Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head firmly. “It won’t. I promise.” He wouldn’t let it. Not ever. 
Your voice rose, insistent. “Rafe—”
He cut you off, stepping closer. “No. I won’t let that happen. I’m not that stupid, irresponsible kid you left behind anymore. That person...he’s gone. He’s gone for good.”
You let out a sharp breath, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t trust you. I just—can’t.”
The guilt etched deep into Rafe’s face made him drop his gaze. He nodded silently, as if accepting it. He hated himself for this. If one of his friends had done what he had, Rafe would’ve ripped them apart for their irresponsibility, for being such a terrible person. And he knew—that’s exactly what he was. A terrible person. 
“I know. It’s going to take everything to prove myself to you, and I get that. But…”
You squinted at him, your eyes sharp and wary. “Liliana thinks her dad’s in space,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with sarcastic calm.
Rafe blinked in surprise. His eyebrows shot up, lips parting as the faintest spark of humor lit his expression. His heart raced at the absurdity of it. “What?”
“Yes,” you said, shrugging. “I told her her dad’s an astronaut. He’s so far away he can’t come see her. If you step into her life, there’s no stepping out again. If you think for one second you can’t handle this, don’t even bother starting.”
Your voice was firm, your gaze sharp as steel. “And—I need time to think.”
Rafe nodded but never took his eyes off you. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave her again. No matter what, I won’t lose Liliana. I swear it.”
For a moment, silence hung between you. His seriousness, his unyielding resolve—it threw you off balance. You studied him with narrowed eyes, his words echoing in your mind. They made you uneasy. You hated feeling this way. 
“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you said at last, your voice tempered, the anger giving way to a measured determination.
Rafe exhaled deeply, relief softening his expression. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet.
You lifted your chin, your eyes cold as ever. “I’m not doing this for you.”
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This wasn’t a decision you could make on your own. It never had been, and it never could be.
When you returned home with Liliana, you had every intention of explaining everything to JJ. But as soon as you walked through the door, Liliana insisted on playing a game with JJ. Knowing you couldn’t discuss something this heavy in her presence, you simply went along with it. But JJ was no fool. He had picked up on something being off.
He’d been tense since you’d seen him that morning. While playing with Liliana, he would steal glances at you, checking on you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. 
You had no idea what was bothering him, but that nagging weight in your chest wouldn’t go away. You wanted to just tell him and be done with it. You couldn’t handle this alone—especially not when you and JJ shared a home and were raising a child together.
This wasn’t just your decision to make. No, it would affect JJ too. Practically speaking, the two of you were living together. Sure, JJ had his own place, but he barely used it. He’d take Liliana to school sometimes, decide what she’d eat, and even join you for her daycare events. 
Whatever you did for Liliana, JJ did as well. He cared for her as much as you did. At night, he’d kiss her goodnight just as you would. The choice ahead of you wouldn’t just impact your life or Liliana’s—it would alter JJ’s too.
You had to talk to him. You needed to unload this unease and find some relief.
When Liliana and JJ finished playing, your eyes immediately sought his. He was already looking at you. When you held his gaze for a second too long, JJ quickly turned back to Liliana. “Go on, give Mommy a kiss, then you can go upstairs and play with your dolls.” He planted a kiss on her hair and stood up.
Your attention shifted to Liliana as she waddled over to you. “Want some coffee?” JJ asked just as Liliana climbed onto the couch and wrapped her tiny arms around your neck.
“Yes, please,” you replied as her kisses landed on your cheeks. Smiling, you kissed her back. “Now I’m going to play with my dolls. I love you, Mommy,” she chirped, pulling away.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” you said, watching as she clambered down and carefully made her way upstairs. Your eyes lingered on her until she disappeared at the top of the stairs.
JJ headed to the kitchen, and you felt the weight of your discomfort pressing down on you. You knew he’d bring you coffee, just like always, but this time, sitting in silence and ignoring the elephant in the room wasn’t an option. You had to talk. The life you shared, the responsibilities you both carried—everything had been thrown off balance by Rafe’s unexpected move. And you needed to know where JJ stood on all of it.
When JJ returned with two cups of coffee, the exhaustion etched on his face hit you immediately. He set your cup in front of you and sank into the opposite chair, staring down at his coffee in silence. You recognized this—the way JJ withdrew when something weighed heavily on him. You’d seen it many times before.
“JJ,” you said, not bothering to hide the determination in your voice. He hesitated for a moment before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. The calm you were used to seeing in his eyes had been replaced by something much harder to read.
“Something happened,” you said, noticing the way his brows instantly furrowed.
“I know,” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something fragile. “I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Go ahead.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within you. “Rafe,” you said, hoping that single word would convey everything.
JJ’s expression hardened instantly. He straightened in his seat, his protective instincts kicking in. “What happened?” 
Your hands tightened around your coffee cup as you steadied yourself. “He… he wants to be in Liliana’s life,” you said, the words feeling heavy as they left your mouth. “He told me as much. And it doesn’t feel like something I can decide on my own. It’s not just my decision to make.” You trailed off, watching JJ’s face shift—from shock to anger and finally to a resigned sort of disbelief.
JJ’s gaze dropped to the floor. His hands remained on the cup, his fingers whitening with the grip, but his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. You wanted so badly to read his thoughts, but he gave nothing away. He just sat there, silent. And that silence unnerved you more than any outburst ever could.
It was driving you mad. You waited for him to speak—to say yes, no, anything. When it came to Liliana, your emotions were always raw, and thinking clearly was difficult. You needed JJ to ground you. “Say something,” you whispered, your voice betraying the helplessness you felt.
“Are you meeting him?” JJ finally asked, his voice barely audible. The room felt eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest. You noticed his knuckles whitening further as he clutched his cup, his gaze still glued to the floor.
You shook your head quickly. “No. He came to me. I didn’t go to him. I didn’t call him—he found me. I would never willingly see him.” You paused, your voice trembling. “He… he saw us a few days ago. And today, when I went to pick up Liliana, he was at the gas station.” You swallowed hard, bracing for JJ’s reaction. You wanted him to lash out—to yell, to be angry at someone—but he didn’t. He just sat there.
“You’re her mother,” he said at last, his words cutting like a blade. His tone wasn’t comforting—it was almost dismissive. You’d hoped for guidance, for support, but his response left you feeling more alone.
“JJ—” you began, but he cut you off sharply. His gaze never lifted as he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. His reactions were impossible to decipher.
“This is your choice.”
“You know it’s not that simple,” you countered, your heart pounding as you leaned forward, trying to draw his attention. You needed him to look at you, to see you, but he remained where he was, unmoving.
“Alright, suit yourself.” JJ’s voice was flat, his tone monoton once again. You could feel your frustration rising, but you knew it stemmed from sadness. 
“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. You couldn’t make this decision alone. 
“No, this is your choice.” JJ took a sip from his coffee. You had no idea how to change his mind. He kept throwing out these ridiculous comments and expected you to agree. And—it wasn’t like him at all. He spoke as if—as if he’d never been part of Liliana’s life. As if he hadn’t been there raising her alongside you.
“JJ—”
“Maybe you should move in together. You, Liliana, and Rafe. Picture-perfect family, what do you think?” His lips curled into a sarcastic smirk, and your jaw dropped. That bitter smile on his face made you feel utterly defeated. Did he even realize how ridiculous he sounded? These weren’t your words at all.
“Maybe you’ll rekindle your great love, hmm? Have another kid—” You couldn’t take it anymore. Did he not know you at all? Hadn’t he seen everything you’d been through? How could he talk like this?
Besides—you had come to him for advice. To figure out what to do as a team. It’s not like you had run to JJ impulsively to say yes to Rafe’s offer. You hadn’t even accepted it!
“You know I didn’t say that!” you yelled, unable to hold back your anger any longer. The realization that Liliana was upstairs hit you hard, and you closed your eyes tightly, taking a shaky breath to calm yourself before opening them again.
“I came to you for advice,” you said, the words catching in your throat. “To tell you this isn’t a decision I can make alone. And you’re—you’re saying all this to me?” The disappointment was written all over your face. You wanted to talk this through together, not deal with it on your own.
JJ gave a hollow chuckle as he stood up. When he slammed his coffee mug onto the table, you flinched. He ran his hands through his hair, pacing. “Maybe you’ll leave Asheville, move back to the Outer Banks. Start over with Rafe.” He turned his back on you, one hand resting on his hip while the other rubbed his temple. A frustrated sigh escaped him.
His words hit you like a slap. You stood abruptly. “You’re being cruel,” you said, your voice shaking. You cursed yourself as you felt your lips begin to tremble. You hated crying.
JJ’s face hardened. The anger seemed to drain from him, replaced by that same flat tone. “It’s not my place to decide. You’re her parent.”
“Me? Just me? So you weren’t her parent when you changed her diapers, stayed up with her when she cried at night, or showed up for her daycare events? Do you not see that Liliana views you as a father figure in her life?” Your voice cracked, as shattered as your emotions. You couldn’t stand how foolish he was being—or how he was acting. He wasn’t listening to you. “Does being a family only count if there’s blood involved?”
JJ paused for a moment, then sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Rafe’s her father. If he wants to be part of her life, you should let him.”
You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Stop talking like that!” you cried, desperation creeping into your tone.
JJ turned to you sharply, frustration etched into his features. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. “Didn’t you ask for my opinion? I just gave it to you. But know this—if he’s in her life, he’ll be in yours too. Whether you like it or not.”
That final sentence struck a nerve, and the storm inside you intensified. Before you could respond, JJ cut you off again. “You’ll fall for him again—” His smile was bitter, filled with pain.
You couldn’t take another second of this. “Do you think I forgot what he did to me?!” you shouted, interrupting him. “He left me when I was three months pregnant! Do you think I’m stupid enough to forgive that?!”
“I didn’t say that,” JJ muttered, his voice lower, but his words cut like a blade. “But you won’t be able to control your feelings.”
“You have no idea how I feel!” you snapped, anger and heartbreak tangled together in your voice. When you noticed a faint smirk tugging at JJ’s lips, your brows furrowed.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said, his tone strangely hollow. He nodded as if conceding your point, his tongue running over his teeth. “I really don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, shaken by how cold and distant he had become. His words were so cryptic, so frustratingly vague, it felt like he was mocking you.
“I don’t know. What do I mean?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something you didn’t. 
It felt like you were trapped in an endless loop. When JJ began gathering his things from the table, your heart clenched. Despite everything, you didn’t want him to leave. No matter what he said—you couldn’t bear for him to turn his back on you. This couldn’t be happening.
As your anger faded into pure worry, you watched him with rising panic. You took a step forward, but he had already packed up. No. This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t let Rafe ruin your life all over again. “Where—JJ, wait. Please.”
JJ headed for the door, and you quickly followed, grabbing his arm. When he turned to face you, your eyes brimmed with tears. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want this to end in anger and heartbreak. “Please—please, don’t go. Don’t.” 
“I need some air,” he said, his voice soft but firm. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, his expression softened. 
“I’ll stop talking, I swear—” you rushed out, desperate to keep him from leaving. You were ready to beg if it came to that. This wasn’t worth losing him over, not something so small. It didn’t have to escalate like this. 
“I’ll come back,” he said. His tone was steady, reassuring. But you didn’t want him to go, not even for a moment. Even if it meant sitting in silence together, you needed him to stay. You weren’t used to him walking away. 
“I really will stop—” you started again, your voice trembling. Your hands briefly reached for his arm before falling back to your sides, unsure of what to do. 
JJ looked away, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. His fingers raked through his blond strands, his face tense and brooding. His brows were furrowed, and the muscle in his jaw tightened slightly. When he finally turned back to you, his gaze was a mixture of emotions—no anger, but a deep, aching disappointment. 
“I don’t want you to stop talking,” he said, his voice lower than usual, but it carried a quiet intensity. “If I stay, we’ll just hurt each other more.” He hesitated, drawing in a long, controlled breath before stepping back further. “I just need some space to calm down. I’ll come back.” 
“I’m sorry—” you murmured, your hand instinctively reaching out to him again before stopping mid-air. You were scared to touch him, scared it might push him further away. 
“Don’t.” JJ stepped back another pace, lifting his hand slightly as if to hold you at bay. “I’m not mad at you.” His gaze met yours, and beneath the resolve in his eyes, you could see how fragile he felt, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 
“Yes, you are. You’re mad at me. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. 
JJ froze for a moment, exhaling deeply as he looked away. His hands fell to his sides, and he shook his head slowly, as if wrestling with something. “Why shouldn’t you have brought it up?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges. When his eyes met yours again, there was pain in them, not directed at you but at himself. “This has always been your choice. I only said what I did because I care about you. I’m not angry at you—how could I be? How could I ever be angry at you?” 
He paused, his gaze drifting somewhere distant. His fingers fidgeted unconsciously near the pocket of his jeans, and his lips pressed into a thin line before parting again. “I’m angry at myself,” he admitted quietly, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. 
His words stopped you in your tracks. Looking at his face, you realized there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Asking might shatter the fragile tension that still tethered you together. 
JJ stood motionless for a long moment, then turned and walked toward the door. He stopped just before opening it, resting his hand on the frame. His fingertips gripped the edge so tightly they turned white. Without looking back, he stepped out. The door closed with a soft but final thud, the sound echoing through the room, leaving the air heavier than before. 
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thesunloveschips · 10 hours ago
Text
Obsessed - Part 10 - Epilogue (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: A decade, a wedding, and two kids later, Azriel is still obsessed.
Warnings: Fluff.
Word count: 1.4k
Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)
****
A decade later
“This spot, right here, was where I spoke to your mama for the first time.” Azriel declared after stopping at some random part of the airport with their twins in his arms. 
What? 
“Ohh.” The children cooed with far too much energy for early morning travel. Their father seemed rather proud of their reaction. 
Y/n suspected something was off when her husband proposed a trip the week before to the country where she’d studied for her exchange program but what the actual fuck was this?
All of it started when their kids asked him about how he’d met their mother. 
As a matter of fact, she really did not remember why she agreed to this trip but Azriel had somehow seduced her into saying yes and the next thing she knew, the family had reached the airport.
Y/n remained somewhere between embarrassment and mortification as he continued to narrate to his children the story of how hopelessly he’d fallen in love with their mother while skipping the inappropriate parts of his thoughts. 
She sighed.
Maybe, she could take a breather and visit the university, meet her professors and a few friends. 
She followed Azriel into a restaurant where as soon as they entered, a few men stood up from a table and made way for the family to sit. 
“This is where I had my first meal with your mama. I was sitting on this very chair and for some reason, your mama is not sitting on the same chair she was all those years ago.” And she simply smiled before deciding their food because her family were engrossed in their own world to read the menu.
All those years ago, huh? 
Time had flown by so soon and somehow so slowly. 
And a thirty-nine year old Azriel certainly looked fine. So damn fine carrying the kids with the sleeves of his black shirt folded up to the forearms and revealing his tattoos. Y/n was half tempted to drag him to the nearest restroom and kneel for him. 
The meal was a light one. She watched them quietly while Azriel narrated the legendary romance of their mama and papa to their children. 
“Mama.” The little boy, Aether, called. “When did you fall in love with papa?”
“In an apartment.” She smiled at the memories from their apartments and let them take her back in time.
When Azriel confessed how he’d arranged for them to meet by finding out her travel information, she was simply surprised. 
But then he revealed how he’d bought an entire building and arranged for them to be neighbours just so he could have an excuse to see her and talk to her. 
Her husband smiled knowingly at her as he continued to coddle and feed their children. 
And then came the time to board the flight. 
Outside the aircraft, Azriel stood with their kids as he commanded their attention. “Now, this is the plane in which I sat next to your mama for the first time. It was our first time travelling together.”
Y/n sighed. Who gave this man so much money anyway? Because he’d tracked down that particular aircraft and bought it ten years ago. It had been revamped into a private jet for the family. 
They boarded the plane and Y/n had absolutely nothing to do. The only thing she had to do was order food for them all at that restaurant earlier. Azriel had taken care of everything else. 
The plane was divided into three parts; the cockpit for the pilots, the area for the cabin crew and the bodyguards, and the area for the family, with the latter separated by doors. 
Their baby girl, Nora, was now yawning. Soon enough, Aether yawned and Y/n led them to the large bed where she tucked them and closed the window. Once they’d fallen asleep, she returned to her husband and settled on his lap. 
“Sleep, Y/n.” His hand cradled her body gently and firmly. And as she drifted away to sleep, she recalled how life had continued after their reconciliation.
It was a mess and they wanted it. They wanted to navigate it. She'd taken her time to confess her feelings about her past and so had he. And for the first time, they were raw and broken in each other's arms.
She snuggled against him, inhaling his scent. This was her husband. The father of her children. A man so devoted to her and intent on treating her right and she wondered if she was ever doing enough for him.
And just when she thought she could cry from it all, her husband pressed a kiss to her forehead and began humming a tune.
**** 
Azriel was a composed person. Always taking time to enjoy everything. Never in a hurry because he always planned everything like that. 
He’d taken Y/n out on dates where they could simply enjoy the food and the place without having to rush anything at all. 
When they were married, he was over the moon. Obviously.
The billion-dollar empire did not run on its own but he was far too eager to go home to Y/n.
After a long period of an obsession bordering on unhealthy, she was finally his wife. And they had two children. Aether had his black curly hair and smile while Nora had his eyes but the rest of them were all his sweet wife. 
Wife. 
Azriel looked at the building as the car neared it. When it stopped, he gently woke up his wife and the family was in the apartment she lived in. 
“This was mama’s apartment.”
“What’s an apartment?” Azriel proceeded to explain the word by giving the twins a tour of the place. 
****
Dinner was yet another affair as Azriel took it upon himself to tour the city, taking them to every single place they’d ever been to. “This is where we did our grocery shopping.”
“So this is how I can get a girlfriend.” The little boy mused. 
“Maybe.” The father grinned. Their son mirrored his expression and their daughter was now curious. 
“Mama.” Nora looked up at Y/n. “If I want to marry someone, will I have to wait for a boy to do all this for me?”
Azriel froze. 
His little girl? 
Marrying? 
Marrying?
What a horrifying thought. 
He immediately took out his phone and texted his assistant to increase the security around his daughter lest some random lizard abduct her from him. 
“Well. .” Y/n began. “Maybe you’ll meet someone who does something else but which would make you feel special.” My god, what was his wife saying? There was no need for their daughter to meet anyone like that. 
“But papa makes me feel special. So why would I meet someone else?” Bless his daughter, such a lovely soul. 
“Of course, my little sweet.” Yes. Papa was all that his little girl needed. There was no need for any snakes to slither into her life. 
****
A few weeks later
It was a normal day and a normal lunch. Azriel and Y/n held a child each and walked over to the table where Nesta was waiting with Cassian. 
A few years ago, when the ladies had discovered that their partners were old childhood friends, it was decided that there was no reason why they couldn’t dine together every now and then. 
Nesta and Cassian had recently gotten married in a hurry. One random morning, Y/n had been video called to be told that they were going somewhere and the courthouse was on the way, so they decided to marry. Needless to say, Y/n screamed at her friend before congratulating her. 
Conversation floated around the table. The children were coddled. Food was passed around and laughter erupted. 
“Cassian!” A voice yelled. 
The man looked up to see another one of his friends and smiled broadly. He raised a hand in greeting. “Rhys!”
Nesta looked up and saw her brother-in-law holding her nephew, Nyx’s hand while Feyre was busy looking at the pastries a few steps away from them. Once Rhys walked over to his wife and she’d also seen them, it was automatically decided that they’d be dining together. 
More seats were added and adults were catching up. Meanwhile, the twins looked at Nyx in fascination primarily because they’d never seen him before. 
Nyx, only a few months older than them at the age of six, reached out for Nora’s cheek. Once he’d ascertained that it was soft, he pulled it hard. 
The girl squealed in pain, tears brimming her eyes. She immediately turned to her brother who was already glaring at the boy. 
Y/n came and began pacifying her daughter while her son stayed close but Azriel was struck at the horror of the situation. 
“Keep your son a mile away from my daughter.” And thus began, Azriel’s paranoia that the reptile who’d steal his precious daughter would be none other than Nyx.
****
Author's Note: Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. Writing Obsessed has been a wonderful experience.
Thank you @findingstephanie @div94 for helping me. They were my beta readers for Obsessed and have helped me immensely.
I hope all of us meet people who will not only be obsessed with us but also be obsessed with treating us right.
P.S. I might write an Azriel x Reader/OC x Eris fic soon.
****
Taglist:
@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4 @hitsxbikbv @julesvanslutta @fae-dreamer-99 @cartonkid1200 @anainkandpaper @yourwonderbelle @stefbroo @imjustagirl713 @bbykaixx @lilah-asteria @mellowmusings
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thisuserisgonesorry · 3 days ago
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1,, im not a teenager . might be young but i have a pretty good grasp on adulthood atp , and i’m not the only person that thinks this specific take; ive asked a lot of mutuals/friends who are (young,,) adults and agree w/ me and many people in rbs agree so like .. bringing my age into this is so left field cos . idk . weird thing 2 say
2 in my experience from living in a very “redneck” (lack of a better term) area (though not america, so there could be a difference), ive met 20-25 year olds who look and act exactly like daryl in s1 because teenagers in redneck areas just look like that. thats where my estimate came from, due to my own experiences
3,, norman reedus literally just looks young in everything he plays . you cant deny that he has a bit of a baby face and doesnt ALWAYS look his age . (but also celebrity men do look like that cos they dont just start rotting away the second they hit 23 because blue collar / minimum wage jobs suck) and never did i say there was a problem w/ him being 40 , just that it didnt make sense in my mind,,, nd actors can play characters that are a different age than them. norman being 40 ≠ daryl having to be 40
4,, he wasnt embarrassed until around season 3-4 iirc , closer to when he was around more people and less isolated , closer to merles death , more so around when he found out carol would go to that community home to get away from ed and then more around beths whole arc (iirc? im a bit aways from s3 rn,,)
nd considering 25+ is around when the frontal lobe developed. yeah. he would act like an idiot in s1. like all young adults do. and he would helplessly follow his brother around for validation considering his childhood, and he’d do whatever he wanted. he would be a terrible drunk, with no job. young adults do that. especially ones w/ mental health / bad childhood
then he develops into a person who was willing to learn to deal with his trauma when around season 4 when (in hc) he’d be like 27 at the earliest (?) because we have to remember that we skip all of loris pregnancy and then the first year (?) of judiths life. making him on the closer side to 30 around the time the prison, when his character starts developing.
(and i never said 25 was the solid age, just that hes “like 25”, meaning im happy to account s1 daryl as 26,27,28, whatever, just that hes under 30 in s1 in my mind)
5 i agree that him being older plays a part in his story but i dont think being 25 suddenly makes him a little baby that makes his development void. his frontal lobe developed. that is a valid subtextual reason for him to mature. but that isnt the only thing that made him reflect and want to cope with his trauma. merles frontal lobe developed and he never tried to do what daryl did - therefor the age thing doesn’t exactly diminish his story or else merle wouldve changed before the outbreak, but he didnt, because some people dont. some people reach frontal lobe age and stay the same. its not “he just grew up” because then merle would have too, but he did grow up, and realised following merle was stupid. but he wouldnt have reached that outcome if there werent other factors so it can easily be both
6 i never said 40 looks old or that theres a problem w it, but how is he older than rick? than most of the other people there? being older than rick feels like it makes no sense (although rick didnt grow up like daryl did and they had carl young so blab yeah theres reasons) and merle being 35+ does make some sense though id somewhat agree 35 is young for merle. m not saying that ppl start decomposing when they hit 30 but god forbid i hc someone as not 40
+ trauma physically ages people so even if daryl did look the same age or older than rick, then it would still be plausible that hes younger. we see trauma age characters in this show. its not hard to assume it happened to him outside of the outbreak too
prob formatted this like a mess but ,, m tired
n e way other people in the rb say that they think daryl is different ages to all of them (varying from 20-40) and as i said in those rbs its interesting that no one can really “agree” on what age he should be cos hes an enigma like that and i think it suits him,, like we all can agree on certain things about certain character cos its a unanimous vibe but then his unanimous vibe is that no one truly knows him??? subtext of it all .
anyway /nm for all of this . im just a little guy . i respect ur opinion cos i love my pookie and i really do love that everyone interprets his story so differently ,,,, i just like talking about it
idgaf im sick of not saying it. s1 daryl dixon is not fucking 40 bro. hes like 25. there is no way in fucking hell.
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cherbii · 12 hours ago
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Jjk men walk in on y/n practicing her old ballet moves? Maybe they didn’t know she used to dance and they’re amazed 🩰🥹
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PIROUETTE AWAY
ミ★ head cannons of them walking in on you practicing ballet!
ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Choso, Ino, Shiu
a.n. Decided to do this in head cannon form bcs why not && did this in pink aesthetic js for u 😼
GOJO S.
❥ He’d have gotten back home from a mission when he heard soft music playing, naturally going to check it out
❥ He’d be extremely shocked and even in awe when he walks into your room, seeing you in your normal clothes except for your pointe shoes you’d fished from your cupboard, dancing, bent at the waist while your one leg spun you, the other almost creating a full 180° angle up in the air.
❥ Gojo would make some sort of crude remark, catching your attention like “Wow, so that’s why you’re so flexible!” Earning a look of shock, then annoyed from you.
❥ Would definitely prance over, claiming he could do better than you, and he’d do surprisingly well, except his ankle would roll and he’d go stumbling.
❥ Would ask for private lessons so he could be good, but really he just wants to see you doing something you’re passionate about!
GETO S.
❥ Geto would come home from running his religious group, wondering why you weren’t in the lounge or kitchen before slowly making his way to your room.
❥ Would stop in his tracks when he saw you practicing ballet, leaning against the doorframe while watching you with a small smile.
❥ When you did eventually spot him, frantically running to hit stop on the music, Geto would tell you not to be embarrassed
❥ Geto would push off the door frame before tying his hair up, saying something along the lines of. “You know, I used to practice ballet a few years back. Maybe we can see if I’ve still got it.”
❥ That man would definitely be graceful, taking you by the waist and lifting you up with ease and practice, shocking you at your shared talent.
❥ This man is SO black swan coded (does this mean Gojo is white swan…sigh, in another lifetime…)
NANAMI K.
❥ He’d walk in through the door and see you dancing with the broom while cleaning in the lounge, earphones plugged in so you couldn’t hear him.
❥ Nanami would kick off his shoes before quietly walking over, even though he’s tired from work, he’d always make time for you, and go sit on the couch.
❥ He’d tell you to continue when you stopped, looking flushed with embarrassment, he’d even make you play your music so he could hear, fingers strumming against his knee when you continued.
❥ Nanami would softly hum to the tune of your music, eyes crinkled as he smile while watching you.
❥ He’d give you a large applause when you finished, walking over and pressing soft kisses to your face, telling you sweet nothings of, “You did so well, my love. Best dancer ever.”
❥ Would sugar daddy you by buying tickets to go watch professional ballet dancers in theatre!
TOJI F.
❥ Ok but Dilf!Toji walking in and not seeing just you, but you AND little baby Megumi doing ballet??
❥ You’re teaching Megumi the basic poses of ballet, and even though the small child thought it was dumb at first, he slowly started mirroring you practicing until you saw and decided to help when Toji walked in from buying groceries.
❥ Yes you’d be slightly embarrassed since Toji didn’t know you knew how to ballet dance, but Megumi would be red red red with embarrassment.
❥ Toji would just laugh at the poor kid’s face before you’d scold him, so to make up for bullying Gumi, Toji would snatch up your discarded tutu, put it on, stretching it around his slutty beefy hips and learn ballet poses too!
❥ let’s just say that night Toji wants to try for a daughter, *cough cough Tsumiki*
SUKUNA R.
❥ You don’t realize he’s there until you hear the faintest scoff, and when you glance over, he’s standing in the doorway, crimson eyes fixed on you like a predator watching prey.
❥ His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every precise movement, and though his expression is unreadable, there’s an undeniable weight to his silence. “What’s this?” he finally asks, his voice a mixture of amusement and disbelief, the smirk tugging at his lips betraying his curiosity.
❥ He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe as if settling in, and the intensity of his stare makes you falter mid-step. “Don’t stop now.” His tone low and commanding, as though he’s already claimed this hidden part of you for himself.
❥ even though he’d try his best to appear nonchalant, he couldn’t help but smirk at you dancing.
❥ would definitely have you practice around him more, even getting you custom made tutus and leotards (maybe even similar colour to his hair???)
CHOSO K.
❥ Choso is as quiet as a mouse when he walks in on you dancing to the soft lull of music, like a deer in headlights as he watches you.
❥ You freeze, eyes widening in shock when you notice him, a flush creeping up your neck as you stumble, embarrassed by his sudden presence.
❥ You try to explain, but he cuts you off with a soft chuckle, his calm demeanor making you feel even more self-conscious, yet his attention never wavers from you. “No! Don’t be embarrassed! That was all so cool and peaceful!”
❥ This boy is the type to have a packet of snacks and watch you as if he was in a theatre and you were the dazzling dancer many came to watch.
❥ Choso who’s so utterly infatuated with you would have his brain short circuit, he’d be the type to suddenly drop on one knee and pull out a ring box, spewing nervous nonsense about how much he loves you and wants to marry you, messing his original proposal plan!!!
INO T.
❥ I just see Ino being some kind of gamer (got an idea now) and too busy with his game to hear the classical Tchaikovsky music drift in through the crack of his door until he decided he needs a break.
❥ would follow the sound until he found you dancing, hair pinned up and your ballet slippers on, fluttering your arms and tip-toeing to the music before spinning around, embarrassed when you heard his low whistle.
❥ “Oh don’t stop because of me, mamas. Go on! Let’s see you do your thing!” (idk felt like he’d low-key speak somewhat Spanish) before ignoring how his phone buzzed in his pocket of all his friends wondering why he’s still AFK before walking over and taking a seat on any nearby chair.
❥ would try flex, saying how he could totally pull the Dirty Dancing move, having you skip to him before jumping into his arms, lifting you high above his head.
❥ though this would last a second before his arms would wobble and you’d go crashing onto him. “Tch, that was the wind, mamas, let’s try again.” He’d scoff.
SHIU K.
❥ This man in my mind can COOK, so he’s in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up showing his beefy arms, cigarette dangling from his lips, ears to full of the sounds of swing jazz playing and the sound of sizzling food to hear the tranquil music wafting from your room until he’s finished cooking dinner.
❥ he’d call out your name, wondering why he got no reply or see you coming down the stairs so naturally he wants to see what’s up, pleasantly surprised to see you so focused on practicing ballet, which was new to him, until you spot him, feet faltering.
❥ he’d give you such a wide grin, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “What’s this, doll?” He’d ask, while you mumbled something about ballet being an old passion of yours.
❥ at the dinner table, he’d constantly ask you questions, even if theyre basic like ‘what was that little movement you were doing when I walked in?’ while your explain it was a bit from the Nutcracker ballet dance you’d watch countless times.
❥ I feel like this man would know a guy who knows a guy, and have you perform small shows, even if the crowd is 100 people, before you slowly grew a name for yourself and was now a big deal in the ballet industry (coz you’re oh so good!!)
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newtonsheffield · 3 days ago
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So on average how many pregnancy scares do surprise neddy Kate and Anthony have (in just the regular au)
I suspect in the super sperm au they are frequently questioning whether Anthony’s sperm has defied the odds again
I suspect there’s two months a year on average where Kate pauses for a moment like “Did I eat something weird and I’m feeling off or has Anthony’s super sperm infected me again?”
Imagine Edwina’s slight shock when they’re leaving lunch one day when Miles is barely four months old and Kate sighs,
“I need to buy a pregnancy test.”
Edwina felt her eyes nearly bug out of her head, “You’re fucking joking.”
“I don’t think I am pregnant.” Kate rolled her eyes, “I think I’m just tired, probably. Having a newborn is tough you know.”
“Sure, it’s tough.” Edwina tutted, “So we’re having unprotected sex because…?”
“I’m not!” Kate hissed, “I have an IUD, thank you. Believe it or not I have actually never had sex with Anthony without some sort of contraceptive being used! And still I have two of his sweet little babies.”
“They are my favourite future men, it’s true.” Edwina sighed, “He makes sweet little boys I’ll give him that.”
“I’m genuinely concerned that his sperm’s just bloody superhuman. So I’m being sure, I’m taking a test.”
“You could just make him sleep in the spare room. Get rid of him completely.” Edwina joked and Kate rolled her eyes.
“I would but he makes a really nice frittata. It’d be hard to let that go.”
“Fair enough.”
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specific-dreamer · 2 days ago
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my baby, my baby (you’re my baby)
Summary: darry visits his dad and rants. he also cries. </3
Darrel loves each of his kids (and stray kids) equally. No matter how hard Steve tries to pry it out of him, he does not have a favorite.
He loved when Johnny came over for dinner and he’s able to convince the kid to spend the night, he loves when Soda and Steve came home with new stories about their day at the rodeo, he loved when he came home from work and Ponyboy would rush to tell him about the book he’d just finished, he loved attending Ace’s recitals, and he loved when Dally comes over just to sit in their company when he could’ve been causing a ruckus around town instead.
He is, however, a little more partial to his first born than the others. No hard feelings, he still loves his other kids, but Darrel Junior was his first child; the reason he’s the father he was a father, so he’s always going to have a soft spot for him no matter what he does.
Besides, it doesn’t hurt that Junior is the only one who visits him and Karen on a normal basis. Darrel huffs to himself has he sits on top of his grave. Since dying, he’s somehow gained an internal watch, so he knows it’s 3:47pm exactly; when Junior visits it’s usually around 4pm.
Junior’s early today though, Darrel thinks to himself hearing footsteps approaching. There’s not much else he can do but wait for Darry who bends in front of Karen’s grave and leaves her a flower first. If he were alive, Darrel’s heart might’ve clenched. Karen’ll be sorry he missed Darry, but she’s watching over the other boys right now; it’s alright though, Darrel will fill her in when she gets back.
Darry’s head was bent too low for him to get a good look at first, but now that he’s turned towards Darrel’s grave he can see the tears streaming down his face. If he still needed oxygen, he’s sure his breath would’ve caught.
“Hi, Dad,” Darry’s says taking a seat on the ground. Darrel can’t help but notice he’s got his knees pulled to him like he’s trying to protect himself.
He frowns and pulls himself to join Darry on the ground. Hey, kiddo. What’s the matter? He knows Darry can’t hear him, he learnt that the hard way a while ago now, it still brings him a little bit of comfort though.
Darry sniffs. “I don’t know how you and Mama did it.”
Did what?
Darry gestures in the air, “This parenting shit- stuff, I meant stuff, sorry.” Darrel laughs a little; his baby’s twenty years old and still apologizing for cussing.
If he’s honest, Darrel isn’t even sure how he did it. It was in large part thanks to Karen, of course, she kept him steady whenever he floundered. Junior also helped too, though. He doesn’t like to throw the word around, but for all intent and purposes, Darry was a perfect first child.
“The other night,” Darry continues. “I guess Ponyboy had a nightmare or something, I don’t know, but I heard him asking Soda why I hated him.” His voice breaks at the end and Darrel is forced to watch as Junior sobs into his arms.
It’s futile he knows, but after a moment of watching he hugs Darry anyway. Almost as if he could actually feel the hug, Darry stiffens before looking up and staring straight through Darrel. Spooky, he thinks.
“I don’t hate him, I promise.”
I know you don’t.
“I love him a lot, but it’s like he purposely grates my nerves. He knows I’m stretched thin and it’s like he’s trying to see how long until I snap. And that’s not fair! I don’t know how to be a parent, I don’t how to raise a fourteen year old!”
Darrel isn’t sure when it happened, but a flip was switched as Junior started to rant angrily. He doesn’t leave the cemetery too often, but when he did he noticed the two often riled each other up; it was never one sided. He can’t exactly correct Darry though so he hums instead.
“Daddy, you know when you first, um,” he winces. “left, Pony didn’t talk for a week. Okay, that’s fine, I can handle that, but he stopped eating too. I tell him, ‘Pony you have to eat something, you can only go so long without eating before you die from starvation.’ And I kid you not the only thing he says to me that entire week was ‘You’re not dad, Darrel, you can’t tell me what to do’. I never said I was! I just didn’t want him to die too, is that so bad?”
Darrel blinks. That was a lot, and he’s not really sure where to start processing it. He sighs airlessly, It’s not bad. You were worried about him and had his best interests at heart I get it. Is he eating now at least?
Just as fast as it came, the anger seems to leave Darry all once as he lies back on the grass with his hands over his face. “I don’t even know if he eating for real, yet. I’m not home enough to know; I eat my breakfast in the dark, go to work, come home when everyone’s asleep, eat dinner in the dark, go to bed, rinse and repeat.”
Darrel winces. Even he didn’t work those kind of hours and could’ve handled them. Darrel liked his solitude every now and then, but not Darry. No, not his Junior; his Junior is a people’s person through and through, there’s a reason he won boy of his year.
Rubbing Darry’s ankle he says, I know you’re working your ass off, but I’m real proud of you, baby. I know it don’t look it now, but it will all pay off.
There’s a pause, and if he wants he could trick himself into believing his boy heard him, before Darry says something so quietly Darrel has to strain to hear. “I know it’s wrong, and I try not to, but sometimes I wish I let them get taken. I love them, really I do! But Soda wants to drop out of school and Pony hates me and he thinks I hate him back, and don’t even get me started on Dallas— I don’t think there’s a been a weekend where we haven’t haven’t argued or he hasn’t been in jail. I’m trying my best, but I keep screwing up and that’s not fair on them.”
He breaks into sobs again, this time so strong his whole body shakes. Darrel can’t even do anything to comfort him, his stupid ghost body isn’t corporeal. The best thing he can do is stroke Darry’s hair and hope he knows his daddy is here for him. He hates seeing his kids cry and he’s never been more angry that he’s dead.
Between sobs Darry says, “I wanna leave. So I can’t mess anything else up.”
No, sir. You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, it’s a new adjustment and y’all’ve just gotta find your footing. I know it’s hard, but y’all will find it.
“I’m not gonna,” Darry protests. His baby is red in the face and breathing real hard, but Darrel is thankful is eyes are finally starting to dry. “I want to leave but I don’t want to leave them.”
So, what are you gonna do, Junior?
“I don’t know,” he answers. “I wish you were here, you’d know what to do.”
Darrel winces. Actually now-
“Well, never mind. You wouldn’t be dumb enough to get in this situation to begin with.”
Harsh, but he’s probably right. Darrel watches as the gears turn in Junior’s head. He loves all his kids equally, yes. But Darry’s always been his favorite to watch because when he isn’t focused he wears every emotion on his face. He can see exactly when Darrys made his mind up long before he stands up and dusts off his pants.
“You drive a hard bargain, but fine I’ll stay.” Darrel barks out a laugh as Darry checks his watch. It’s 6:29pm, he’s been here for nearly three hours. “Shit, I said I’d make dinner.” Somehow, when Darry looks up he’s staring Darrel in the eyes. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later.”
Alright, stay tough out there. I love you, kiddo.
Darry’s eyes widen a minuscule amount and he grins as he ducks his head. “Yeah, I love you too, daddy.”
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ragingbookdragon · 1 day ago
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One Toke Over The Line
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Angst, Canon Death
Author's Note: So fun fact, at my Aunt's mother's funeral, she actually had One Toke Over The Line playing. Her mother in fact requested it prior to her passing. Enjoy.
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The rest of the family had said their final goodbyes, and she took a seat next to her father’s bed, gently taking his hand. His eyes cracked open, and she smiled weakly at him. “Hi, daddy,” she whispered, brushing a piece of his hair back from his forehead. His lips moved and she shook her head. “No, daddy, don’t try to talk, okay?”
His throat bobbed, but his lips kept moving. Hi, baby.
A noise, akin to a dying animal, softly escaped her and she felt tears flood her vision.
A cool hand brushed her tears. “No…crying…” he mustered out. “Not…today.”
She tipped her head to the side, looking at him in the bed. Twenty-eight long years. She remembered living in the officer’s quarters with him when he was a single father. Just the two of them for so long. She’d had the call-sign “Ice-Queen” before she’d even entered the Navy. Iceman and Ice-Queen, a dynamic duo, father and daughter, nothing could separate them.
But death had a way of sneaking in.
He lifted his arm, and she crawled into the bed beside him, tucking her head under his chin with her arm tightly wound around his waist, his securely behind her back. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she hiccuped with every breath.
She wasn’t a twenty-eight-year-old lieutenant losing her admiral.
She was a child losing her father.
“I’ve lived…a good life…” he breathed. “Done more…than most…ever will.” His hand brushed her back in a soothing manner. A grief wedged in her chest. Here, her dying father was comforting her. “I’m…okay.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I need you, daddy.” Her tears kept blurring her vision. “I’ll always need you.”
His chest rumbled as he struggled for breath. “I’ll…always…be there.”
The lump kept growing in her throat and she bit back a sob.
“I’ll…always…be your…wingman.” She looked up at him and through her tears, she saw the gentle smile on his face; he gently reached up with the other hand and wiped under her eye. “My…beautiful girl.”
She leaned into his touch. “Please don’t leave me, daddy,” she begged brokenly. “I’m…I’m not ready.”
He let out a breath and smiled softly before he dug around in his pocket and pulled something out; he placed it in her and closed his fist around hers. “I am…always…here.”
She didn’t have to uncurl her hand to know what he put in it; the golden crucifix he’d worn his entire life.
“Fly…higher than…I ever…did,” he began. “And know…every flight…I’m there.”
Her throat was too tight to form words, but she nodded and laid her head back down on his chest.
***
She lay there for hours, listening to his breathing until his chest stilled beneath her ear.
***
It was too sunny for the occasion. Too bright in her eyes as the sun reflected the tears. She stood beside her stepmother, silent as the guns rang out over the cemetery. Her gaze was fixed on the coffin, unable to look anywhere but where they were burying the greatest man she’d ever known in the cold ground.
An hour passed and her family had departed, the other airman and sailors had departed, but she stood over the hole in the ground, unable to move her feet from the spot. She stood until they lowered the coffin down and began filling it with dirt.
She stood until the land was flat above him, and then she saluted.
***
He smiled politely as he entered the open doors of the home, weaving through people until he found Sarah.
“Missus Kazansky,” he murmured, and she smiled tiredly at him.
“Hi Jake,” she greeted, nodding to the stairs. “She’s in his office.”
He nodded and took his leave, climbing the stairs towards the office of the Admiral. The door was cracked open, and he peered inside, catching sight of her sitting at the desk, staring out the window with a blank look on her face.
Jake rapped his knuckles on the door as he opened it wider. “Knock-knock, room service.”
Usually, she’d crack a smile but all she managed was, “I’m not in the mood, Jake.”
He walked inside and up to the desk. “I know.” He pulled a chair up to the desk and sat beside her, setting his cap on the desk; he watched her for a moment, then murmured, “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He reached out, taking her hand. “What can I do?”
She shrugged half-heartedly. “Can you bring back the greatest man who ever lived?”
Jake’s expression shifted into one of a deep ache as he replied softly, “If I could, I would, pretty girl.”
Her eyes flooded with tears, but she kept her gaze on the window, the bright sky, the birds flying above the water. “I stayed with him. He didn’t go alone. I was there until the end.”
“I know, pretty girl,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. “I know you were.”
“I…heard his heart stop,” she managed to push out. “My daddy’s heart. I…heard it stop.”
Jake wished he could take the grief he knew was coursing through her like the speed of light; he reached up, placing his other hand to her cheek, turning her face to his.
She looked scared.
Like a scared little girl.
“My daddy,” she whispered, looking at him. “M…m-my, my dadd—” she burst into sobs and Jake reacted like lightning, taking her in his arms.
He rested his cheek against the side of her head as she shook in his arms, repeating, “My daddy,” over and over again through her cries.
“I know, pretty girl,” he comforted. “I know.”
***
Somehow he’d managed to get her into her bedroom, arm wound tightly around her as his chest pressed against her back. He breathed quietly as he rested his head on the pillow above her head, gazing at his arm stretched beneath her head, her own hand clutched tightly in his on the bed.
Jake gently drew circles in her stomach, and she whispered, “Did you know that one time, daddy and I smoked a joint at a train station listening to ‘One Toke Over The Line?’”
His fingers stopped as his brows furrowed, and he picked his head up. “Do what?”
She snickered weakly. “We smoked a joint. At a train station. And listened to ‘One Toke Over The Line.’”
“Your dad?” he asked. “Admiral Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, smoked a joint…with his kid?”
“Mhm.”
He inhaled and exhaled before he deadpanned, “Never in a million years would I have ever guessed that.”
She shifted slightly. “It was his favorite song.”
“Yeah?”
“That and ‘Keep On Tryin’.’” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I can ever listen to them again.”
“I thought we were going to play that at our wedding,” he complained. “Well now what are we supposed to dance to?”
She laughed softly. “Not exactly a wedding song, Jake.”
“Says who?” he shot back, digging his chin into the crown of her head.
“Who said I was going to marry you anyway?” she asked. “Don’t you know that Bradley and I sworn to get married at thirty if we weren’t by then?”
Jake scowled and tightened his arm around her waist. “I will literally kill the man. Best friend or not, I will.”
She turned in his arms, laying her head on his chest. “I’m kidding.”
“Better be,” he warned, re-securing his arm at her back; he looked down at her for a moment, then asked softly, “You coming back to base with us? You know we won’t be upset if you don’t.”
“I’ll be there,” she answered. “I just…” she trailed off and he nodded.
“I know.” He pulled back, looking into her eyes; his hand drifted from her back to her cheek, and he brushed his thumb along her skin.
She searched his gaze for a moment, then asked, “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Jake nodded. “As long as you need me, pretty girl.”
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otterly-darling · 1 day ago
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First Anniversary
‘Cheers!’
They clinked their glasses together over fond smiles across the table.
‘I can’t believe it’s been a year,’ Remus sighed a nostalgic sigh. ‘It’s been- well it’s just been the best.’ He reached across the table, ‘I know I don’t say it enough, that it’s not really our thing to talk like this but-‘ he swallowed, ‘Everything we’ve done this year, the books, the late nights, it’s meant an awful lot and I was hoping that-‘
‘Well, well, well.’ The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut made them both jump. ‘Isn’t this cosy.’
‘Sirius!’ Remus stammered, ‘I thought you were out with James!’
‘I was.’ Sirius crossed his arms. ‘I missed you. So I came home. Looks like you didn’t have the same problem though does it, Remus? It didn’t take you long to replace me.’
‘Oh do shut up, Sirius.’ Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to pick up his glass of squash. ‘Sorry, Remus, you were hoping that…?’
‘That I could borrow your unabridged copy of Moby Dick,’ Remus mumbled, still sounding guilty. ‘I dropped mine in the bath. Sirius, love, I can explain!’
Sirius ignored him. ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded, pointing at Regulus who looked back, bored.
‘In case it had escaped your notice, brother, but I am here quite a lot of the time.’
‘Yes, but to see me! And now I come home to find you fraternising with my husband!’
‘We’re not doing anything!’ Remus rushed on to say. ‘Okay, that’s not true but you have to promise not to be upset. You’re still my absolute favourite Black brother, I swear on your arse, and you know how much I love your arse.’
Sirius gave him a shrewd look. ‘Hmm,’ he stuck his tongue out at Regulus. ‘You do love my arse. But I promise nothing,’ he added.
‘It’s our anniversary,’ Remus said quietly, getting to his feet and coming up to Sirius, uncrossing his arms so he could take his hands in his own. ‘A year ago today Regulus and I, we- we started a book club.’
Sirius gasped. ‘Without me?!’
‘Can you even read?’ Regulus started but Remus shushed him with an imploring look.
‘It means nothing, baby. It’s just for fun and-‘
‘Hey!’ Regulus stood up too, looking indignant. ‘You were just saying how much it meant to you! What was that? A lie?’
Remus paled further, ‘No! I-‘ his gaze flickered between the two brothers. ‘Reg, I didn’t mean-‘
‘So it did mean something!’ Sirius wrenched his hands free from Remus’.
‘When I suggested we read a book together and discuss it you literally told me you couldn’t think of anything more boring!’ Remus sounded desperate now.
‘Oh so I was second choice then was I?!’ Regulus crossed his arms too, mirroring his brother. ‘Well that’s just charming.’
‘Well it would have been nice to be invited to your little gatherings anyway!’ Sirius said at the same time.
Remus sat back down and thunked his head on the table. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He got up again, the chair screeching across the tile and without another word walked out the room.
Sirius and Regulus looked at one another.
‘Well that was fun!’ Sirius said brightly and uncrossed his arms. ‘You want to stay for dinner?’
‘Oo yes please!’ Regulus plonked himself down in Remus’ vacated chair and kicked his legs up on the table. ‘Should we make Remus get us takeaway?’
‘Oh definitely.’
@wolfstarmicrofic
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18jewels · 3 days ago
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Hello sweets!!!
Here is the post I wanted to share for a looooonnnnggg time!!!
Firstly...
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Ahhh yes, if you really, really remember my old account, this post was originally posted way back in August of 2024. And this is one of my favorite full pieces, the colour grading seems off though.
Dets that I'm proud of: ✨️✨️🤍🤍
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Okay now for the next one...
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Did this in late 2023 as one could expect and I was fascinated by tiles at that time (still am) and wanted to try a mosaic style. Quite proud of this one, please excuse me if the faces aren't right. 🥲🥲
Also feat. Tooni (Baby Tooth and Bruni):
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Now last one, I promise...
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You remember this one, I know you do!!! If not, well, I'll tell you. 😅👍 I did this in May of 2024 and posted it in my old account in August. Wanted to save this for Halloween last year but got too excited.
Some dets nobody asked for but oh well.. incase you're interested:
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Toodaloos... bye bye!!! Have a great time!!! Off I go!!!
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speaknow-sw · 2 days ago
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THE POET AND THE ROSE
Content : pure fluff, alternative ending.
A/N : some people requested it so I typed this in like 20min just for you. Hope it’ll bring you more happiness💕💀. @rayaskoalaland , @anakinca Here’s for youuuuu.
꧁ Alternative Ending ꧂
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The house stood on a quiet hill, surrounded by wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The sun bathed the valley in golden light, casting shadows of children playing outside. Laughter rang out—pure, unrestrained joy. The Skywalker home was filled with life, with love, and with the echoes of a family that had found peace.
Anakin Skywalker stood at the edge of the yard, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his children run about. His dark hair was flecked with silver now, but his eyes remained as sharp and warm as ever. He smiled softly as his daughters took turns chasing each other, wooden swords in hand.
"You're too slow, James !" the eldest, Eleanor, teased her younger brother. At ten years old, Eleanor was already a force to be reckoned with—fierce, bold, and with a mind as sharp as her father’s. Her wild curls bounced as she spun, holding her wooden sword with surprising grace.
James, just three, stomped his foot in frustration. "I’m not slow! I’m strong!" he declared, puffing out his chest in defiance.
Anakin chuckled, stepping forward to kneel before his son. "And you’ll be stronger still, my little warrior. But strength comes with patience. Watch your sisters, learn from them." He ruffled Alaric’s dark hair. "And then show them what you’ve got."
James grinned, brandishing his tiny sword with determination.
Nearby, you watched with a soft smile, a basket of freshly picked herbs on your hip. You had always known Anakin would be a wonderful father, but seeing him now—with your children surrounding him, his laughter mingling with theirs—it filled you with an indescribable warmth.
Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening. "Come join us, my rose," he said, holding out his hand.
You placed the basket down and walked toward him, letting him pull you into his arms. His embrace was still as comforting and strong as it had been all those years ago. "They’re growing up so fast," you murmured.
"They are," Anakin agreed. "But I’m not ready to let them go just yet."
"Then don’t," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
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Later that evening, the children gathered around the fire as Anakin carved a small wooden sword for James. Each child had their own custom sword or toy, all carved by their father’s hands.
"Tell us a story, Papa!" begged your second daughter, Roselyn, her green eyes wide with excitement.
Anakin smirked, setting down the carving. "What story would you like to hear?"
"The one about how you met Mama!"
The children gasped in delight as Anakin began to tell the tale—how he had fallen for the princess who painted in secret, how he had crossed borders and battled armies for her. He embellished parts, of course, to make it more thrilling for the little ones, but the heart of the story was true.
"And in the end," he finished, pulling you close, "I vowed to protect her with my life. And I have never broken that vow."
Your youngest daughter, Lyanna, climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Mama says you carved cribs for us when we were babies. Is that true?"
Anakin chuckled. "Of course. I carved a crib for each of you."
"And you sang to us?" asked your eldest, Eleanor.
Anakin nodded, his voice softening. "I sang to each of you, every night. And I’ll keep singing, for as long as you want to hear it."
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One day, as you sat by the window, painting the wildflowers blooming outside, you heard the familiar sound of your children’s laughter. You looked out to see Anakin with all five of them, teaching Eleanor how to perfect her sword grip while Alaric clung to his leg, refusing to be left out.
"You’ll make a fine knight one day, James," Anakin told him. "But remember—strength is in the heart, not just the sword."
"And me?" Eleanor asked, grinning.
Anakin smiled proudly. "You’ll make a knight no king will dare cross. But more importantly, you’ll be kind. And that’s the strongest thing of all."
You stepped outside, watching as Anakin gathered all the children in his arms, spinning them around as they squealed with delight.
"Papa!" they cried. "Again!"
And Anakin laughed—a sound so full of life, it echoed through the hills, a melody of love, of peace, of everything he had fought so hard to protect.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the family sat together by the fire, wrapped in blankets, listening to Anakin’s stories once more. You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart full.
This was your legacy—a home filled with laughter, love, and life. Anakin’s vow had held true. He had never let anyone take you from him. And in the quiet moments, as your children drifted to sleep, he whispered promises of forever.
"I love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.
"And I love you," you replied.
And in that moment, you both knew—there was no greater victory than that.
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The court was bustling with activity. Nobles from across the land had gathered for the spring festival—a time of celebration and peace. Musicians played lively tunes, the scent of roses filled the great hall, and children ran freely through the corridors, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.
Anakin stood near the throne, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His gaze flickered from the crowd to his children, scattered across the room. His eldest daughters, Eleanor and Roselyn, were holding court with a group of noblewomen, their heads held high, their smiles radiant. Even at ten and nine years old, they commanded attention like queens.
"They grow more like you every day," you whispered, slipping your arm through his.
Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. "Gods help us all, then. They’ll take my rank before they’re twenty."
You laughed, squeezing his arm. "And you wouldn’t mind one bit."
His expression softened as he looked at you. "Not if it means they’re safe and happy."
Across the hall, your third daughter, Elara, was trying (and failing) to teach her five-year-old sister, Lyanna, how to curtsy. Lyanna, ever defiant, crossed her arms. "Papa never makes me curtsy!"
Anakin grinned. "She’s not wrong."
You shot him a playful glare. "You’re spoiling her."
"Of course I am," he said proudly. "It’s my duty."
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The festival continued, and as dusk fell, the little family gathered in the gardens for a more intimate celebration. Eleanor, ever the responsible one, helped set up the table while Roselyn chased fireflies with Lyanna. Elara sat on the grass, weaving a crown of daisies for her little brother, Alaric, who giggled as he tried to sit still.
"Papa!" Lyanna called, running up to Anakin with a wildflower bouquet. "I picked these for you!"
Anakin knelt, accepting the flowers with a dramatic flourish. "For me? Why, I must be the luckiest man in the kingdom."
Lyanna beamed. "You are!"
He scooped her up, twirling her around as she squealed in delight. "And you, my little lioness, are the fiercest in the land."
Elara tugged on his sleeve. "Papa, can I ride with you tomorrow when you go to the village?"
Anakin knelt to her level. "You want to come with me?"
She nodded eagerly. "I want to see the world!"
Anakin smiled softly, brushing a stray curl from her face. "The world can be dangerous, my tiny rose."
"But you’ll protect me," she said confidently.
He sighed, kissing her forehead. "Always."
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The next day, court was in session. Anakin sat at the head of the hall, his children by his side. Eleanor sat straight-backed beside him, her eyes sharp and observant. Roselyn twirled a strand of her hair, bored with the proceedings, while Elara whispered stories to Lyanna to keep her entertained. Alaric sat on Anakin’s lap, his small hands gripping his father’s sword hilt.
"Papa," James whispered, "why do we have to be here?"
"Because one day, you’ll need to know how to lead," Anakin said gently.
"But I don’t want to be a general," James pouted.
Anakin chuckled. "Good. That means you’ll be a wise one."
As the court proceedings droned on, Anakin’s focus remained on his family. When a nobleman dared to suggest that his daughters were unfit to learn the art of swordsmanship, Anakin’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
"My daughters will wield swords if they wish," Anakin said, his voice like steel. "They’ll wield power. They’ll be warriors. And they’ll have no need of any man to defend them."
Eleanor smirked. "I’ll be the best swordswoman in the land."
"And I’ll be better than you," Roselyn teased.
"You wish!" Eleanor shot back.
Anakin leaned back in his chair, pride swelling in his chest as he watched his daughters. They were his legacy—not titles or lands, but fierce, intelligent, unstoppable girls who would shape the future.
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As night fell, Anakin made his rounds through the castle, tucking each of his children into bed. He knelt by Eleanor’s bedside, brushing her hair back.
"Papa," she murmured sleepily, "will you tell me a story?"
He smiled. "Of course. What would you like to hear?"
"Tell me about Mama."
Anakin’s heart softened. "Your mother is the bravest woman I’ve ever known. She saved me in every way a man can be saved."
Eleanor smiled, her eyes fluttering closed. "I want to be like her."
"You already are, my rose."
In the next room, Roselyn and Elara were already asleep, their arms tangled around each other. Anakin kissed each of their foreheads, murmuring words of love before moving on.
In Lyanna’s room, he found her sitting up, clutching a wooden sword.
"Papa, can you teach me a new move tomorrow?" she asked.
Anakin chuckled. "Of course. But only if you promise to sleep now."
"Promise," Lyanna whispered, settling back into bed.
Finally, he reached James’ room. The little boy was already half-asleep, clutching the wooden lion Anakin had sewn for him.
"Papa," James mumbled, "will you always be here?"
Anakin knelt beside him, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. "Always."
As he left the room, you joined him in the hallway. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.
"They’ll be great leaders one day," you whispered.
"They already are," Anakin said softly. "And I’ll make sure they always know how much they’re loved."
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Later, as you both sat by the fire, Anakin pulled out one of the wooden cribs he had carved.
"Are you making another one?" you teased.
He laughed. "No. But I thought it might be nice to keep them. A reminder of when they were small."
You leaned against him, your hand resting over his. "They’ll always be our babies."
"And you’ll always be my rose," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "And after all… we could make a sixth one." He grinned playfully.
The flames crackled, the warmth of the fire matching the warmth in your hearts. Outside, the stars shone brightly over the quiet castle—a symbol of the love, peace, and joy that now filled your lives.
The story of the poet and the rose had not ended in tragedy, but in love—eternal, unbreakable, and true.
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sebastianstangirl01 · 2 days ago
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✧˖° Bring The Lion Out | Pogues & Rafe
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pairing - the pogues x cameron!reader, rafe cameron x sister!reader
warnings - violence, language, attempted assault
summary - a fun day at the beach quickly took a turn when the the baby of the group gets cornered by a couple of kooks who don’t have good intentions. luckily she has her friends and siblings who will do anything to protect her.
authors note - i am going to be using the name audrey again for this fic, obviously this fic is not at all related to my last one about rafe. using audrey is just easier for me instead of y/n, mainly bc it is my name lol and i can just type it mindlessly. but obviously feel free to use whatever name you want and imagine the character anyway you want! her nickname is going to be baby, kinda like baby in dirty dancing, so that’s what most everyone is going to call her! i hope you all enjoy!!
requested - yes!
not proofread!!
✧˖°
summer in the obx was nothing less than magical. the weather was hot during the day, perfect for getting a nice tan, and cooler when the sun went down making thin blankets or sweatshirts your best friend.
audrey “baby” cameron has always loved summer. in the past she would spend her time surfing with her sister sarah or going on jet ski rides with her brother rafe. then sunset boat rides on the druthers with her family always ended the night.
but this year was different. ward was dead and rose took wheezie and disappeared off the face of the earth, not answering any of the many phone calls both sarah and audrey made. luckily she still had sarah and rafe, who miraculously made up and are closer than ever.
audrey has still had a hard time though, being pretty much shielded from all the drama that occurred over the past couple of years, she was blindsided by everything. for the first couple of weeks she had never felt more alone.
realizing that they had to step up for their little sister, rafe and sarah did everything they could to help her grieve the family they once had. the pogues had taken audrey under their wing as well, all of them always having a soft spot for the now 16 year old who had only been 13 when this all started.
sarah was still living with john b, but rafe had bought his own house on figure 8 after selling their family home, none of them wanted to live there anymore with the false memories of the fake family they had. audrey had moved in with him and rafe did his best to make sure it was perfect for her.
the biggest surprise to audrey was that rafe was actually pretty friendly with the pogues now, to the point that they all hang out together pretty frequently. which audrey is thankful for, especially because this meant he was spending less and less time with topper and kelce who she hates.
today was one of those days, the waves were supposed to be perfect and jj had challenged audrey to a surfing competition. so rafe threw the boards into the back of his truck and the brother and sister duo were on their way.
when they arrived at the beach it wasn’t very crowded, much to audrey’s delight, there were a few teenagers further down the beach but that was about it. sarah and the pogues pulled up right beside them and everyone got out, setting up their spot for the day.
“hope you’re ready, baby. those waves are calling my name.” jj teased the younger girl as he waxed his board
“no, i hope you’re ready. don’t want you to get embarrassed about getting beat by a 16 year old again.” audrey fired back making kie laugh and pat her shoulder
“you got it, baby.” kie ruffled her hair, ignoring the look of betrayal on her boyfriends face
“hey! you’re supposed to root for me!” jj pouted and kie just shrugged
“baby’s obviously the favorite.” john b said as he walked up behind audrey and wrapped his arm around her shoulder
“right, just how many years of friendship? right down the drain.” jj mumbled to himself
audrey smiled at his dramatics and walked over to sarah who was sitting in a lounge chair underneath the umbrella. the 16 year old carefully sat down on her lap and sarah chuckled shaking her head fondly and adjusting into a more comfortable position. sarah looped her arms around audrey’s waist and pulled her back against her chest.
“can i help you?” sarah twirled a strand of her sisters hair
“nope, you’re just comfy and i’m waiting for your husband to finish waxing my board.” audrey closed her eyes at the feeling of sarah playing with her hair like she used to do when they were kids
“almost done, jeez!” john b called and the girls giggled
“how are you feeling?” audrey asked and sarah smiled using her other hand to gently rub her slightly swollen belly
“i don’t have morning sickness anymore, so i feel great.” sarah sighed heavily luckily at 20 weeks the worst of her morning sickness had passed
“i still think the baby should be named after me, audrey jr is perfect. we can call her aj for short.” audrey wiggled her brows
“hey, we still don’t know if it’s a boy or girl.” sarah reminded her and audrey just shook her head
“it’s a girl, i just know it.” audrey smiled
sarah just smiled fondly at her sister and began to quickly braid her long hair so it wouldn’t be in her face while she was surfing. at some point kie and pope had flopped down beside them under the umbrella, pulling out the snacks and drinks they had packed for the day.
cleo was standing with jj and john b, criticizing the way they handled the boards. and rafe had gone back to his truck to grab his own chair and the bag that had their towels and some sunscreen in it.
the weather was perfect today, a soft breeze cut through the humidity and the cloudless sky was a bright blue color. audrey found herself wishing that she could spend every day like this, sitting on a beach with her favorite people in good weather.
“boards ready for ya, baby!” john b walked over to them holding audrey’s board on his hip
“thanks, jb! last one in’s a rotten egg.” audrey jumped up taking her board before running towards the water
she laughed hearing jj curse and chase after her, the cool water made audrey tense for a moment before her body became used to the temperature and she paddled out.
kie, pope, and john b joined shortly after audrey and jj while cleo and sarah built a sandcastle and rafe sunbathed. the waves were perfect, just as they had predicted.
the group caught wave after wave, and eventually kie deemed audrey as the winner of her and jj’s little competition.
“no way!” jj complained flopping back onto his board
“sorry j but baby had ya beat.” kie patted his chest
“don’t be a sore loser bro.” pope chided him and jj scoffed
“i am no such thing!” jj held his chest in offense
“bullshit.” pope coughed making the others laugh
jj just narrowed his eyes before lurching forward and knocking pope off his board into the water. audrey laughed wiping the water that splashed onto her face from her eyes, while kie just shook her head at their childish behavior.
jj and pope popped their heads up out of the water and quickly knocked the remaining three off their boards making them join them in the water.
“not cool.” john b splashed jj, who was responsible for knocking him into the water
feeling her stomach grumble in hunger, audrey pulled herself back up onto her board. intending to swim back to shore and eat one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cleo brought.
“i’m heading in, i’m starved.” audrey announced and the group gave her a thumbs up
“i’ll come with ya, need to check on sarah.” john b said ignoring the whipping sounds pope and jj made
the duo paddled towards the shore, john b waving at a couple other surfers who recognized him. audrey huffed out of breath as she made it to the beach, struggling to prop her board on her hip.
“need some help?” an unrecognizable voice asked from her left
audrey lowered her board and saw 3 boys she didn’t recognize standing there, but from the looks of their ray-bans and vineyard vines swim trunks she knew they had to be kooks.
“uh, no thanks. i can manage.” audrey gave them a polite smile
“come on, that boards like twice your size. we don’t bite.” the same one said
“unless you want us to.” another one smirked
“really. i’m good.” audrey clenched her jaw becoming uncomfortable
as she went to walk away one of the guys grabbed her board, stopping her.
“hey, we’re trying to be nice here and help you out. the least you could do is not be a bitch about it and let us.” the first guy spoke again
“excuse me?” audrey gaped at him, shocked that anyone would talk to another person like that
“you heard him, so be a good girl and let us help ya out. maybe you can repay us tonight, we love to share.” the third guy said
feeling alarm bells ring in her head, audrey knew she needed to leave. she dropped her board and turned to walk away, but was stopped when a strong hand latched onto her arm and pulled her back into a chest roughly.
“where you going, huh?” the second guy asked
“let go of me!” audrey exclaimed, jamming her knee into his crotch making him curse and drop his hold on her
“fucking bitch!” the first guy scoffed, pulling her hair making audrey yelp
before anything else could happen, yelling was heard and suddenly audrey was ripped away and rafe tackled both remaining guys to the ground.
audrey fell to the sand and looked up to see rafe and john b ontop of two of them punching them in the face. the third guy tried to get up but was punched in the face by cleo sending him back to the ground.
“audrey!” sarah exclaimed dropping to the ground beside her sister and pulling her into her arms
the others made hurried onto the beach when they heard the commotion and pope and jj hurried to help john b and rafe while kie immediately ran to sarah and audrey who were now joined by cleo.
“hey, are you ok?” kie asked touching audrey’s knee
“yeah. i’m fine.” audrey winced and touched her head that was tender from where her hair was pulled
“jackasses.” sarah seethed rubbing her hand up and down audrey’s arm
it took both john b and jj to pull rafe off his guy, who’s nose was all bloody and most likely broken. the other two guys in similar shape.
“you so much as glance in my sisters direction again and i’ll fucking kill you.” rafe threatened and the three guys immediately ran away
the boys turned back to the girls and rafe knelt down in front of audrey, grabbing her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. his jaw clenched when he noticed the hand shaped bruise on her arm.
“are you ok?” rafe asked pinching her chin to get her attention
“yeah. just a little freaked out, but i’m ok.” audrey nodded
“well those sons of bitches won’t bother you anymore, baby. scared them so bad i’d be surprised if they ever show their faces again.” jj chuckled
“better not, or i’ll cut em.” cleo flipped open her knife making audrey smile
“no one messes with baby.” pope pushed cleo’s hand down
“damn straight.” john b nodded squeezing her shoulder
“thanks guys.” audrey smiled, feeling so incredibly lucky to have friends who care as much as hers do
“let’s not let them ruin our beach day, we have hours of daylight left.” kie said moving to stand
“yeah then tonight we can have a bonfire and roast marshmallows.” sarah smiled before looking at her little sister. “how’s that sound, baby?”
“sounds good to me.” audrey grinned
“good, now it’s time for lunch and you need to eat. i’ll get you some tylenol too for your head.” rafe grabbed audrey’s hands and pulled her to her feet before wrapping his arm around her
audrey chuckled at his care, which was a stark contrast to the way he was a couple of years ago. the group headed back over to their spot and continued with their beach day.
they ended the night back at rafe and audrey’s house, utilizing the large patio with a fire pit and comfortable chairs placed all around it. as audrey held her marshmallow over the fire, she looked around and realized just how lucky she is to have these people in her life.
to have people who care and will always be there for you.
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