#its like seeing someone eat cookies and then remembering 'oh i have cookies too. i also should go eat them i kinda want cookies now'

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

anyone else ever have this random fear of being accused of copying other people unintentionally? like

>be me >see another artist post something cool >"ooh funky i had a really similar idea once!" >get inspired to possibly draw something >"wait but what if their fans or they themselves notice and think i copied their idea and start drama (;;;*_*)" >end up not doing anything

[sterekbros]

the promise of more (2422 words) by Winchesterek Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale, Lydia Martin Additional Tags: New Year's Eve, First Kiss, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Everyone Is Alive, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, New Year's Kiss For Events: @sterekfests 'kiss me at midnight', @sterekbingo fuzzy socks (Christmas), @sterekweekly reindeer

Summary: “You should save some for the others.” Stiles turned to see a handsome guy standing there and thankfully he was holding his second cookie or it might just have fallen out of his mouth as he stared at him. His tone was light and teasing, so Stiles knew that he didn't mean it. “I, uh—sorry?” Stiles replied, looking at the table filled with treats and then back at the man. “Did you bring any? I’ll make sure not to eat those.” The guy laughed, it reaching his eyes which had Stiles almost melting right on the spot.

Stiles thought Lydia was crazy, and not her normal crazy, but like weird crazy because she had invited him to a fuzzy sock holiday party at her place, which meant that everyone who came would have to wear fuzzy socks. Not only was it a party, but it was also a slumber party. Stiles couldn't remember the last time he’d been to a slumber party. Probably before he was ten and it was likely with Scott for his birthday party.

So going to an adult slumber party, with alcohol, fuzzy socks, and probably the possibility of hooking up was something completely new to Stiles. It wasn't like he was into public sex or any type of orgy situation. He was a very private kinda guy when it came to that. Voyeurism was not his thing, which meant he’d need four walls and a door at least to hook up at this party.

Then again, the lakehouse had plenty of space and rooms, so maybe he would find someone. It wasn't too far out of the ballpark.

Stiles sighed and checked his phone, looking at the GPS, trying to figure out the easiest way to get to the lakehouse without having to go through too much ice and snow along the way. His Jeep was a little on the old side, and he needed new tires, so it wasn't the safest thing to drive in this weather. It did its job though and he loved his Jeep, especially because it was his mom's.

He reached out to turn the knob on the heater and blasted it because the Jeep was drafty and started his route to the lakehouse. If the lake was frozen over and Lydia wanted to ice skate, Stiles was going to have to tell her no, since drowning was one of his biggest fears. He tried not to think about that as he drove, thumping his fingers on the steering wheel, and humming along to Christmas songs playing from his phone.

By the time he made it to the lakehouse, there were cars parked everywhere, more than Stiles realized there would be. So this was a larger party than he’d originally thought. That only made him more nervous. He sighed and parked his Jeep in a place that looked like it wouldn't get trapped if he decided to bail on this party, and killed the engine.

Stiles ran his hands over his face, took a deep break, and pulled his sweater hood over his head before hopping out of the Jeep. The door clanged behind him as he closed it and Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets, starting up the walk. Thankfully, he didn't slip and fall on his face.

It was a miracle.

Stiles reached the door, knocked, then waited. He could hear music on the other side and muffled voices. When the door opened, a tall brunette greeted him with an excited, “Hi! Oh. Come in, come in. Lydia is doing what Lydia does. Entertaining the best of us.”

Her tone was sarcastic and Stiles thought he could really get to know this girl. “I’m Laura,” she added with a grin, her lips as red as sin. “You are?”

“Uh—I’m Stiles.” He smiled and offered her his hand, which she shook awkwardly. Okay, so maybe he was the one that was being awkward.

“I have my fuzzy socks,” he added, lifting the leg of his sweats to show her his entrance fee. They were covered in penguins because Stiles secretly loved penguins. And frogs. Not that he’d ever tell anyone something like that.

“Great!” Laura nodded and shut the door behind Stiles, then motioned with her head toward a table at the far end of the room. “Eggnog is over there, along with a few cookies and sweets that people pitched in.” She frowned. “Don't eat the brownies. I think those are spiked… you know, with—” She made a face, but then again, it was illegal in most places still.

The last thing he needed to do was to test hot if his dad decided to check him. “Got it. No brownies.” He gave her a thumbs up and she walked off, leaving him standing there awkwardly with a bunch of people chatting around him in groups. They’d paired off and gathered up, Christmas music playing in the background, and Stiles didn't know where to start. So, he headed over to the eggnog table.

Stiles grabbed a cup and served himself, sipped it, and winced. Whoever made it had gone hard with the liquor. He had to pace himself, otherwise he’d be so drunk that he’d never remember the night. And that would be a bad thing. He hadn't done that since he was in high school.

He fished a few reindeer cookies from the table and shoved one into his mouth when a voice from behind him said, “You should save some for the others.”

Stiles turned to see a handsome guy standing there and thankfully he was holding his second cookie or it might just have fallen out of his mouth as he stared at him. His tone was light and teasing, so Stiles knew that he didn't mean it.

“I, uh—sorry?” Stiles replied, looking at the table filled with treats and then back at the man. “Did you bring any? I’ll make sure not to eat those.”

The guy laughed, it reaching his eyes which had Stiles almost melting right on the spot. “No, I didn't. My sister brought some of that brittle stuff, but we came for the fuzzy sock party. I wasn't exactly expecting this to be an actual party.”

“Oh, yeah—same. I thought it was going to be a small get-together, not an actual Lydia party.” Stiles chewed his cookie and smiled, meeting the guy's eyes. “I’m Stiles.” He offered his hand.

“Right. Right. I’m Derek,” he replied, taking Stiles’ hand and shaking it. Stiles held on for a little too long and Derek’s gaze dropped to Stiles’ hand before Stiles released it.

“Sorry. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Derek. I’m assuming you’re not from around here.” Because Stiles would've recognized him around town. Beacon Hills wasn't that big.

Derek chuckled. “I’m from Beacon County, but yeah, we don't live in Beacon Hills. We’re actually here because my other sister was invited by one of Lydia’s friends. So we’re a plus two, technically.”

Stiles glanced around the room, wondering who Derek’s sisters were. When his gaze returned to Derek, he frowned. “Oh, the girl from the door. Laura? Is that one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, she’s my twin.” Derek grinned. “She’s fifteen minutes older than me, which she’ll never let me forget.”

Stiles laughed, a belly of a laugh. “Ah, nice. I don't have any siblings, so that must be fun.” He laughed again, his eyes roaming over Derek. “I can tell that she’s fun.”

“More like a pain,” Derek replied with his own chuckle. “But we make it work. I know I couldn't live without her, even if she gets on my nerves the only way a fifteen-minute older sister can do.”

Stiles finished his second cookie and wiped his hand on his pants, then reached up to touch his neck, which he noticed Derek tracked his fingers. It gave him a shiver that tingled all the way down to his toes.

“Um, are you single?” Stiles ventured, darlingly. He didn't usually ask questions like that, but Derek was hot and Stiles was interested. And if he said no then he never had to see him again, right?

Derek looked confused and curious at the same time. “Yes,” he finally answered with a nod. “I am single. I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I, uh—I’ve been mostly focused on school, so dating hasn't really been on my mind. I haven't had a girlfriend since high school, and that was what you’d expect of being in love in high school.”

“Short-lived?” Stiles asked, laughing nervously.

“Pretty much.” Derek sipped his eggnog and then disposed of the cup in a trashcan near the table. “So, Stiles. Are you single?”

Stiles felt his stomach twist with nerves and his breath catch. Derek was asking him if he was single. He wasn't sure why it made him feel this nervous, because the obvious answer was hell yes he was single. Maybe it was because it looked like Derek’s gaze held a promise that Stiles could only hope for.

“I—uh, I—yeah, 100% single.” Stiles’ stomach only twisted more and his heart thundered in his chest. “But I’m into guys and girls, I’m just not as slick as you dropping it in there that you didn't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

“So you caught that,” Derek smirked. “What can I say? I think you’re attractive and I’d like to get to know you more. Plus, we’ve got a while until it’s midnight and we’re watching the ball drop on TV in New York’s Time Square, right?”

“I’m pretty perceptive.” Stiles grinned and finished off his eggnog, tossing his cup into the trash with Derek’s. “So, should we find somewhere to sit and talk a little more?”

“Yeah, I think we can make that happen.” Derek looked around and Stiles followed his gaze.

Stiles saw Lydia across the room and she must have felt him watching her because she turned and waved at him, then gave him a thumbs-up. Her eyebrows arched and she gave Stiles one of those knowing smirks, like she knew that he’d find Derek and hit it off with him. Like she’d set up the whole thing. He wouldn't be surprised if she somehow masterminded it with Derek’s little sister.

He really needed to thank her later if they hit it off.

“What about over there?” Stiles asked and pointed to a small couch by the window. No one was likely sitting there because it was cold by the window with this weather.

“Looks like a great place,” Derek agreed and motioned with his hand for Stiles to walk in front of him. Stiles smiled and nodded, leading Derek over to the loveseat. Once they were there, Stiles plopped down ungracefully and shivered. He could feel the chill from outside through the window.

“Here,” Derek said, handing Stiles a blanket. He must’ve grabbed it on the way over, because he didn't remember the throw blanket on the couch when they got there. He tried not to think about how thoughtful that was and it was even a little romantic.

“Thanks.” Stiles took the blanket and laid it over himself as Derek sat down next to him, not too far from Stiles, within inches.

“So, tell me all about you. I want to know everything.” Derek sounded sincere as his gaze stayed locked with Stiles’, his smile soft and genuine, giving Stiles all of his attention.

It made Stiles nervous and excited at the same time. So he took a deep breath and started at the beginning. They talked about their childhood, both serious and funny memories. There were even a few embarrassing ones in there that Stiles was surprised they shared.

Talking to Derek seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Stiles had never felt this way with anyone and he could tell that Derek was there with him. There was an instant connection that neither of them could seem to pull away from.

Stiles wanted more. Needed more. And from what he could tell, Derek felt the same.

Suddenly the lights dimmed around them and Stiles looked up to see a disco ball shine in the center of the room. Of course Lydia would.

“Uh, well, I guess I didn't realize how much time had passed while we were talking,” Stiles started, looking back to Derek where the light from the disco ball shimmered around him.

Derek chuckled and scooted toward Stiles, closing the little space that was between them. “Well I don't want to seem presumptuous, but I was hoping for a midnight kiss.”

Stiles blushed and he knew that his skin would be blotchy red all over. He was thankful Derek wouldn't be able to see it in the dark, but he smiled and it made his chest flutter. “Me too,” he replied as people started counting down around them.

There was cheering and hoots and chatter, presumable for whatever the guests were watching for the countdown, which was taking forever. It was the longest ten seconds of Stiles’ life, but then there was confetti popping around them and people cheering and kissing.

Stiles licked his lips and his gaze locked with Derek’s. Derek didn't say anything. He reached forward, cupping Stiles’ cheek gently in one hand and smoothing his thumb against his skin. Stiles’ breath caught in his chest and then Derek was leaning forward and their lips were pressing together, tentative yet sure.

Derek’s lips were soft as Stiles returned the kiss, exploring as their tongues tangled together. He breathed deeply, Derek’s scent warming him all over as he felt Derek’s hand slide to the back of his neck and gripped him. Stiles was practically in Derek’s lap when they stopped, both of them breathing heavily in the scat space between their lips.

“Wow,” Stiles said with a smile that hurt his cheeks, resting his forehead against Derek’s.

Derek chuckled in a way that was too smug but also did things to Stiles. He wanted to kiss that smirk right off of Derek’s lips.

“I’m right there with you,” Derek replied, his voice quiet in the noise around them, almost like they were sharing secrets.

“Kiss me again?” Stiles asked, his nerves turning to exhilaration at the promise of more. Derek pressed in, brushing his nose against Stiles’, and kissed him again, deeper this time. And Stiles was lost to it, letting it take him over and fill all the places he needed Derek to be. It was like Derek soothed his soul and grounded him in a way that Stiles couldn't explain, but he knew that he never wanted to let this go.

When they paused, trying to catch their breaths, Derek said, “Can I get your number?”

Stiles barked a happy laugh and gave Derek a quick kiss. “Absolutely. We’re doing this again but on a date. And yes that is me officially asking you out.”

Derek beamed, the light reaching his eyes in the darkness. “Whatever you want, whenever you want. I’ll be there.”

Stiles knew that was a promise Derek would keep.

[finleyforevermore]

imagine after school we are sitting at the kitchen counter eating cookies i made (i 💙 baking) and talking about our days.

I of course was mostly complaining because that's just who I am, "And then he said I have the body of an 8 year old TWICE! Like why was he even looking? That's so weird 🤢" (talking abt military kid also true story)

And after that we settle onto the couch having soundtracks of musicals playing as we snuggle under the blankets. I would smile at you and say some sentimental type stuff like, "I love you Finley and I hope you know I'll always have your back."/p

After that I would feel like the silence is too awkward so I would be like, "Finley! I have GOT to show you Kinky Boots! Oh and have you seen the Enchanted Bookshop? You know I was Long John Silver back in my day 😌😌" (also true story I was a pirate in my community theater a few years ago. And kinky boots sounds dirty but its not that bad from what i remember)

I'm listening very intently the whole way through but every so often I'll go "these cookies are delicious-"

"if your gonna insult someone, at least be clever about it, instead of sounding like a broken record. I find calling people vermin is pretty effective." "When'd you call someone that?" "Just today!...in my mind.."

"Well sure I know that. It'd be dumb of me not to know that. And it'd be dumb of you not to know that I love you too." /p

"You're only 15! When you say 'back in my day', you make yourself sound all old!", figure now's the perfect opportunity to reference one of my favorite YouTubers, "It's like, 'back in my day, polio was a jump rope activity and not a disease!'"

"I haven't!! But now I've GOTTA see it! You wouldn't happen to have a recording of you in it, would you?"

At some point my mouth just goes agape and I shove my phone into your face. "Wh-what? What is it?" "DON'T YOU SEE?? NEW OFF BOOK EPISODE!" "That's that podcast you like right-" "YES AND BEFORE THE NEXT MINUTE PASSES WE'RE GONNA LISTEN TO IT-"

I thrown in multiple Off Book references in our conversations and I can't help but laugh when I see the look on your face when you realize where I got it from.

(yeah no i know kinky boots isn't as bad as it sounds dw XD)

[sidipopsicle]

Heart On Your Sleeves

A short romantic Parfait Cookie x Currant Cream Cookie fic! I gotta sing my Currfait gospel somehow ♡

Pairing: Parfait Cookie/Currant Cream Cookie

Summary: The cute punk fashionista from next door visits the sandwich shop Parfait works at once again! But is this time different, somehow..?

As Parfait Cookie works the front counter of Sandwich Cookie's sandwich shop, a ring resounds from the bell on the front door.

Waking Parfait from her slow-day stupor, she finds herself in front of the nearby up-and-coming fashion designer, Currant Cream Cookie. Most of this cookie's visits are quite pleasant, yet Parfait always notices how quick she is to enter, and quick she is to leave--a bit of an absent-minded busybody in the hustle and bustle of city life. Parfait straightens up, ready to greet another of her fine regulars on such a nice, warm spring day.

"Hi there! What can i get for you, miss?"

"Hello...oh! I saw you working here the other day!"

Parfait smiles and giggles politely. Seeing someone recognize her is very comforting to hear from the regulars of this shop in particular. Usually the customers that come back tend to be friendly, and despite Currant Cream Cookie's punky demeanor, her silly smile defies the dark and dangerous colors she dons.

"Ah, yes! I remember you very well! Umm.....your sandwich last time was.......the Jellymeat Sammy with extra Fresh Greens, yeah?"

"Wow!"

Currant Cream Cookie's eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah, totally! Its so cool that you remember something that specific!"

"Ahaha, don't mention it. I'm not usually great at remembering things like this, but you live so nearby, umm, that i just thought i should be mindful! Does that make sense?

"Ooh yeah! Definitely makes sense."

Both cookies nod at eachother, happy to have formed a sort of mutual understanding of one another, even if its mainly about the eating habits of a random neighbor....a brief bout of anxious silence runs its course as Currant Cream Cookie has her usual order rung up on the register and swiftly paid for. Her boots clack on the floor as she shifts her weight a bit, somehow...giddy?

"Well, I could probably go sit down now," Currant Cream notes, leaning over and sitting her elbows on the counter as she peers closer, "buuuut while the store is empty, i have something ive GOT to say."

Parfait Cookie's heartbeat quickens a bit with worry. Is this punk rock fashionista upset about something? Is there something on Parfait's face? Is it something else..?

"Your shirt."

"Aah..? Under the apron?"

"Mhm. The rock band shirt."

Currant Cream shifts so she's leaning over the counter cutely with a sudden spring in her demeanor, palms flat on the countertop, her eyes inexplicably shining with a sort of inspired glee that Parfait feels like she understands the feeling of.

"You should come to my shop after work!!!"

"-Eh? Wuhh???!"

"Hehehe~ You heard me!"

Parfait stands shocked, a little confused. What about her shirt prompted this all of a sudden?

"W-what for?"

"Look."

Currant Cream reaches her hand past the counter and pulls ever so gently on Parfait's short sleeve. Parfait Cookie, surprised and with her cheeks flushing pink, briefly stands there like a little deer in headlights. As she gathers her composure and peers down at the sleeve, she notices the fabric is completely torn at the seams. Darn, and to think she believed she got dressed today with no problems...her fave shirt too...

"I could fix that up quick later, free of charge. You need only walk into my studio and say hi. Sounds good?"

Parfait nods, giving a humble smile.

"Punky!! See you later then sammich lady!"

And with that, the cute punk fashionista skips very merrily right out the front doors of whence she came, the same bell from before signifying her exit.

Parfait stands stupefied. Something about that dual-toned hair and sharp fang in her grin was charismatic like no other today...and the way her shoes clacked against the shop's tile as she hopped off, it echoed a bit off the walls and right into Parfait's eardrums, reminding her of a song idea she has yet to piece to fruition. But right as Parfait is imagining a tune or a melody.....

"ORDER UP!!! ONE JELLYMEAT SAMMY WITH EXTRA FRESH GREENS!"

Oh!

Oh, crumbs...

Currant Cream Cookie forgot about her sandwich??!

[iguessitsjustme]

Deep Night Ep 1 Thoughts

I tried to start watching this about two hours ago but then my sister called and then I had to run to the store for some pain meds. They really should invent a me without a headache. Anyway I got my meds, a cake, and about a million beverages so I guess it’s time to start. Episode 1: Headache Nation under the cut because boy oh boy did I ramble

Oh this is only 8 episodes? I thought it was 12. This works for me. I do love a good solid 8 episode long show.

*eats pickle* damn they got aerial boys. More of this everywhere please?

Already obsessed with the music. Do you know what gets me every time? Strings. Just listen to the build up they do. Ughsjsjskdjwkd I love string instruments

WHO sings this opening??? I am OBSESSED with their voice. 

Oh to be a beautiful lady in a skintight bodysuit doing aerial tricks by a giant window in a very yellow room. I might be in love with her. I don’t care if she ends up being evil or something. I love her. 

I know its not exactly the same but every time I hear host club I think of them:

Boy take the cookie! Free cookie! I wish I was a hot boy in a BL that was being offered homemade baked desserts. I just remembered I bought a cake. I must pause to go get a slice or I won’t be able to forgive my man for this:

Do I see…a ql character…with glasses???? Gonna need to add this boy to my spreadsheet. Anyway he better keep them. No one spoil me. 

Wait I have the opportunity to do something very funny. To me and to only me. I also bought a bottle of sparkling cider. The best non alcoholic beverage. So I’m gonna drink this straight from the bottle while these boys are stuck getting drunk with actual alcohol at this club. Okay note to self. In the future, open the sparkling cider over the sink. Why are you more adept at opening champagne?

Ooohhhh rivals. Academic rivals. All these business statistics are too much for me. But I’m intrigued. I actually think these two would make good business partners. Perhaps. Could be wrong.

I should probably start learning names. So far all I know is Japan. And also that he’s my favorite. *eats chip*

The music is trying to tell me things are serious but I don’t care enough yet for things to be this serious.

Oh a grandiose staircase. I want a grandiose moment on those stairs. But I want to be wearing sweats and be as unserious as possible. Those stairs have obviously seen far too many serious moments. Those stairs need to see some whimsy. 

I do not think I like Khem. At least not yet. I like Japan and Khem’s mother. I bet Khem will grow on me. But right now he kind of irks me. 

Did Khem show up to this club in a cardigan??? Are cardigans fine at clubs? Where can I find that cardigan I want it.

I am OBSESSED with Khem’s necklace. I am not a big jewelry person but this necklace is absolutely working for me. I mean look at it! The way it rests on his clavicle (I think thats what it is don't look at me) but it draws your eye down to his chest where the shirt under his cardigan is hiding his body but the unbuttoned top button of the cardigan is wanting to show more. Maybe cardigans ARE club attire. But only with that necklace and only on this boy. 

Why does this woman want Khem to live with her? I hope the show helps her remove the stick up her ass. Though I’m not sure the actress can pull off the stern character she’s portraying. It makes me take her a little less seriously and I don’t know if that’s intentional or not. 

Ah I see some fantasies ARE universal. Someone remind me when I’m done watching to reblog gifs of this kiss. Also want to point out how much I love the music in this scene. The whole thing absolutely and incredibly gorgeous. Actually obsessed. Stunning. Everything stunning.

I would like to give Japan a hug actually. 

I’m in love with Khem’s mother. Outta my way gay boy I’m about to become your step parent. 

Me vs. street noise. Who wins? The answer is street noise. Every time. Not even hiding in my hoodie helps.

The GUFFAW that came from me when they show Khem as a valet? Oh they say traffic assistant. I am in LOVE with his mother. 

Either these shows need to stop showing me food or I’m gonna need to make a trip to Thailand because that looks so good. 

These sound effects are SENDING me.

Damn right boy. Get paid. Get that bread. I love him. 

A LAPSIT? In the very first episode? More likely than you’d think. 

This soundtrack reminds me of the Life is Strange soundtrack at times and that is my favorite game soundtrack of all time. 

Okay episode 1 done. I really enjoyed it despite all of the interruptions I dealt with. Time for episode 2! I do not know if I’ll watch more than the first 2 episodes today but I am very excited to keep going. 

[noisymutantherelol]

Overlords x child!dragonreader TW:cursing, blood,weapons,OOC,Camilla almost having a heart attack

(ps.you have toothless personality) You were just wandering looking around looking at the blood,organs spilled by random ass people, you were walking but not paying attention to where your going until you bumped into someone in particular,"ew that looks gross- oFf-",you stumbled back hitting the ground,rubbing the back of your head you look up to see Zestial

"Oh Shit I am so sorry- uhm sir"

"ah its all right." Zestial looked around before asking.

"Where are your parents?,dear child?" He asked looking at you while you got up "oh me? I don't have any...."

"Hm...",he was just looking at you scanning every inch of your body wondering someone as young as you could end in place as cruel as hell,he held out his hand saying to you," Here my child I may be thee Overlord but I am not always so cruel, now would you like to come with me dear?",You were hesitant, your heart skipping a beat,but you have nowhere else to go so...,"sure", you reached your hand out to his smooth hand,you continued to walk with him felling peoples eyes on you, it felt like a bunch of spiders crawling on you, making you uncomfortable and well before you knew it you were at Carmillas company (?),"My dear child,I would like to introduce you thee Carmilla carmine,my dear friend",you simply nod while follow him to Her office, she welcomed him but then her eyes fell on you scanning your small figure before then saying,"Zestial,who is this you brought with you?"

Zestial looked at you forgotten to ask for your name,"Oh dear where are my manners?, dear what is your name?" he asked while looking at you.

"Y/n", you muttered out,looking at the ground

"And Zestial why did you bring them here?"

"To be looked after of course", he said with a shit-eating grin

"By you right?", Carmilla said while pointing at him,while his grin grows wider,"By the me AND the rest of the Overlords,I simply want to see if they can handle the pressure,that's all dear...."

Carmilla face palmed remembering the last experiment that he pulled off,"Zestial are you sure?"

"Yes I am,now do you know where I can find Rosie?"

HEADCANONS START NOW

Rosie🌑🌹

-When she first laid eyes on you you looked adorable too her she wanted to give you a lil'makeover To match the timeline of her town

-She would give you stuff that wasn't human flesh,such as cookies but gave you to much and your chasing Susan around the plaza,she snickered a bit then went to chasing you before you started flying. She told Zestial to never give you too much cookies.

-she would teach you manners,and how to be a nice woman,and cook simple foods and how it's fine to be LGTBQ+

-She also learned to never leave you unsupervised while using the stove,almost burnt the whole place :0

-Overall the most things she likes about you, She LOVES it when you call her "Aunt Rose", anyone else who calls her that will die,well besides Alastor,if he says it as a little tease,and you both like drawing and colouring with eachother

A scenario in my KFC brain

Y/n:Aunt Rosie,look! look! *shows a drawn picture of you and her"

Rosie:*on the bridge of tears* Awww *wipes a tear* it looks amazing

-she guards it with all her life

Zeezi (I had to make a personality for her)

-When she first saw you she was like,e fuck-",then Zestial explains everything and then she was like,"*sigh* there's no getting out of this huh?" And Zestial is just like "Not in the 7 rings of hell-, anyways good luck!"

-She turned on her tv in the living room and put on a show that was usauly watched by imp children, while looking for a actually healthy snack,but found nothing,"Alright kiddo we'r-" she stopped talking as soon as she saw you Laying on her couch sleeping in peace she turned off the tv and brought a blanket and put it over you

-She told one of her minions to watch you and make sure your ok while she went to the store to get food for you

Pt.2 coming wait ya'll

[iamgrape]

Gluttonous Love♡lust 2

Warning: this content have Cannibalism being mention.

Previous || chapter Two || Next

You wonder why your being serve a meal by a cannibal. A very delicious meal fit for a rich human. Or at least some fancy ass restaurant.

"Y-your not going to pull a Hanibal Lector on me are you!?" You try to use your fork as a weapon as he happily eat his own meal in front of you.

"Oh... Is that the famous cannibal person base on the movie? Do you meant the brain part? Ahaha~ I don't eat people who still wants to live." He chomp on his meal as he says this.

"Rinne give me a list of people who died or want to end their life before their time. Willing victim makes me less guilty for humanity." He look at his meal as if thinking about something.

"If I weren't born this way, I could try helping them out. But sadly their own demise is what feeds a gluttony like me...." There's a hopeless smile on his face.

"Anyway you should eat that till it's warm~ don't worry there's no human meat in it~ the good stuff is for me~" he become a happy.

"... Y-you sure there aren't any human meat there...? " You poke the food, you do think the food looks very appetizing as ever!

" Ahaha~ of course! I'm not that bad to serve you, something that will be wasted if you throw it up." He went to grab the juice pitcher and pour your cup some weird blend, like galaxy like sparkling juice.

"it's made of blue turnips, lemon, edible glitter for presentation." He seems to notice your gaze.

" There's chocolate cookies and lava cake stuffed with overloaded of chocolate. " He put the freshly bake desert right beside your plate.

"....I..." You normally don't eat human food as you don't need too.

But damn, the scent is tempting you and a demon, your prone to temptation. You soon took a bite of the cookies and the flavor of chocolate explode in your mouth.

You start to put your guard down and eat the other meal he serve. Smiling as you taste the new dish and nomming the next.

"Uwaaaahh! It's so good! Servant! I want you to be my chief!" You can't help but says with your in your happy mood, like a young lil devil who have their first candy.

"Ahaha~ Chief? Ok~ I'm willing to cook for you, master!" He seems quite happy to see someone enjoy the food he made. As so far, he only made meal for himself. His unable to share his creation as he fear his own nature will get the best of him. But seeing you enjoying it. Maybe its not so bad to have Rinne find him a roomie after being a hassle to his life for hundred of years.

"Shiina Niki." He introduced himself. "What's your name sis?"

"Sis? Gasp how dare you define my gender! :/" You muffle as you stuff your mouth with cookies. "I'm the great MC! I will become the lord one day! So you better remember it servant!"

"Ahaha~ ok~ MC~" your sort of weird but he too is a strange one. But as Niki thought of that. The smile on his face won't leave. His really happy today, to meet you.

Hopefully you two get along or else he have to result to eating you so you won't tell any authority about the crime he did against the idealogy of humans.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

A Long December

This piece was originally written about my character, Deanna Berger, from my novels The Transition Piece, and its sequel, Hard Science and Modern Art. (There might be some minor spoilers for blog readers who haven’t read these books.) And it’s also about a few songs that aren’t really about Christmas/the holiday season, and holiday stress, and the ever-changing nature of life…the waves of positive and negative…of good and bad…of regret and gratitude. But re-reading this piece this year hit me differently, because...well...this has been a tough year. And this HAS been a long December. Hell, it's been a long 3-6 years; let's be real.

I know, right? Can’t we just do Holly Jolly Christmas things? You’re a self-professed sap, Jen. Your December is packed full of romantic sentimentality. You make up hopeful fictional love stories and even when it’s not Christmas, you’re kind of annoyingly preachy about peace on Earth and goodwill toward men (and WOMEN TOO dammit!). So like…do we need to be all deep and philosophical and arguably dark right now?

Well…yeah.

See, I love December. It’s full of memories about when I met J. It’s the month our son was born in. Those are unquestioningly the two best things that have ever happened to me, the two biggest pieces of my soul, the two most important people in my life, who both came to me in December. But I know not everyone loves it, and even in my own spectacular Decembers, there have been some shitty parts. I like to focus on the positives in life, because that’s how I operate the best and healthiest. But I haven’t forgotten about the problems. And I know for many people (sometimes my own self included), December can be hard. (It was hard this year).

We’ve all lost someone we miss and think about them in December because of holidays centered around people we love, or sometimes actual grief anniversaries, and shortening winter days, and the year coming to an end. Many people (myself included) have strained or difficult or even abusive or non-existent relationships with their families. Being around them out of obligation causes a lot of stress; nearly inevitable hostile confrontation causes stress; feeling judged or ignored or lonely causes sadness…and ramps up anxiety.

Deanna’s December is hard. She’s had some unequivocally good things happen for her in December. But she’s also had some terrible things happen to her. And she definitely feels that holiday strain, dealing with her family. For Deanna, it’s decidedly NOT The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

She normally focused on what she’d lost in December, and I know there are many people who do this. And she felt extra obligation to spend time with her parents, who were not the most supportive people to her, even through the hardest parts of her life (which happened in December). So even the parts of her life that were good and that she was immensely grateful for felt overshadowed by sadness and anxiety and doubt. She felt weighed down by feelings of inadequacy and regret. I’ve been there. I know a lot of people have been there and ARE there, right now. I know a lot of people who get down every year in December. I had a friend of mine tell me once that her father, for every year of his life that she could remember, cried each New Year’s Eve. And he had a great life, and he was normally a cheerful, grateful, positive and optimistic man. December just has that effect on a lot of people. It makes people think about endings and mortality, because it’s the end of the year, and we remember people we once spent holidays with that are no longer there, or relationships that are difficult that we wish were loving and full of ease and contentment instead. Social obligation forces these things into the light in December. And that’s not even mentioning financial and diet/health pressures and management. (Oh just eat the fudge…the cookies…have another helping of the…it’s CHRISTMAS…Oh we have to get a gift for the teacher/mailman/your Aunt Barbara/but so-and-so is a vegan and this other person has a peanut allergy and we have to accommodate all of that into the holiday meals and we can’t leave out X if we got a gift for Y and…)

Deanna spent a lot of Decembers feeling alone and hardening herself to all of the emotional up and down and the connections…the obligatory ones that wore her down and the real ones she lost and feared losing. But when she met Jake…and later…even more so…when she met Bobby…her outlook on December brightened up.

This has been one of my favorite songs since the first time I heard it. It’s kinda like me. It’s melancholy and sentimental and full of nostalgia and memory and wistful lyricism (that’s what Counting Crows are all about…it’s why I love them and have since I was in high school). But as gray and somber as it is, it’s also stubbornly optimistic. And I think that’s not only me, that’s Deanna too. That’s how that particular one of my characters is like me. She’s been through some shit. She remembers all of it. But ‘there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.’ This is one of her favorite songs too. And the connections she’s made give her that hope that things will always improve…the gray won’t last forever…December may be long, but it always rolls around to January. Deanna knows endings lead to new beginnings. So do I.

[fivsecondsflat]

28/12/22: JORDAN, YOU MADE ME CRYYYYYY WITH THIS ONE!!! GOD!!! i read it on christmas but have only been able to highlight my favorite parts now, it’s so long i basically just copy and paste the whole thing i’m SORRY but every line you write is BEAUTIFUL and i can’t help myself. it was such an angsty and cozy read for the end of my christmas night. just very perfect in every sense. smart alecks emotions are so real and palpable, you really take us there with her!!! and sweet bradley, no words for him. he deserves all the happiness in the world and i hope the navy never takes him away again during christmas. joe biden you will pay for your crimes.

“and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings.” AH YES BRADLEY COOKING. MY FAVORITE LITERARY GENRE.

“and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.” this little detail made me 🥹

"Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was.” oh 😭 way to break my heart.

“You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms.” smart aleck beloved :(

"You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October" THIS GALA KEEPS HAUNTING ME I CAN’T WAIT TO READ IT!!!

and then she starts spiraling again question if bradley loves her or not :(

“Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face.”

“Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist.” i love the way you make him ground her to reality again by wrapping his arms around her.

“Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left.” the intimacy of knowing each other so well that you can buy each other clothes. ALSO THE TRACEL SIZED BOTTLE OF HIS COLOGNE STOP ITS SICKENING SWEET

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired.” THE WAY YOU THROW IN LINES LIKE THIS SO SEAMLESSLY I CAN’T YOU’RE TOO GOOD AT THIS

“He wouldn’t be with you again until March.” STOP I’M GOING TO CRY

“Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant.” a perfect paragraph!!! it reveals so much about how anxious she feels about him being deployed. AND THE PREGNANT PART AT THE END I SEE YOU JORDAN

“And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.” 🥺🫶

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” I AM GOING TO K/LL MYSELF!!!!!! FAVORITE LINE!!!!!!

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been.” BELOVEDS!!!

“Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific.” i also adore this common agreement that bradley absolutely does surf. i saw a fanart of this months ago and i’ve never been the same.

“Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.” pls i adore this

“You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.” MY HEARTTTT

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.” YEAH ❤️‍🩹

“Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…” i’m reading this a second time and oh the foreshadowing i love it

“You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home.

And you wanted to be home all the time.” AND YOU WANTED TO BE HOME ALL THE TIME!!!!!!! GOD!!!!!! OK MAYBE THIS IS MY FAVORITE LINE!!!!!

“Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.” this was hilarious. comedy gold.

“You got it, rocketman.” THIS NICKNAME IS SO CUTE FOR HIM AND THERE’S THE WHOLE ELTON JOHN THING I AM UNWELL

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god.” OH GOD INDEED. JUST SO VERY PERFECT.

“But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.” WE ARE ALL ALLOWED TO BE A LITTLE SLUTTY SOMETIMES AND IT’S OKAY

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?” 😮‍💨

“Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.” GOOD FOR THEM!!!

"You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing." THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE WHEN HE BLUSHES!!!! THE PINK EARS ❤️❤️‍🩹🥹😭🫶🥲

"He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him." HE WANTED EVERYTHINGGGGGGG

“You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?” WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME!!!!!!!!

“Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.” ok i adore and live for little details like this, a glimpse into his personality that we don’t get unless you write it and it fits him so well!!! just perfect, jordan!!!

“Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.” we are NOT giving up on the bradley astronaut agenda anytime soon and i love that

“But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him.” stop this actually made me cry, i was sobbing during christmas night because of her breakdown

“Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THIS ONE BROKE MEEEEEE

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.” STOP

“He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased.

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass.” they are everything to me!!!

“Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

“No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight.” REAL AND GOOD AND YOURS!!!!

“Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you." SO MANY FAVORITE LINES I MEAN HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK JUST ONE?

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours.” PLS AS IF I HAVEN’T CRIED ENOUGH-

“Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

not the it’s a wonderful life comparisons are you trying to kill us????

“He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit.” HE FITTTTTTTTTTTT I CAN NO LONGER DO THIS-

AND THEY EMAIL EACH OTHER????? JORDANNNNNNNNNNN

this was perfect. as always. no words. thank you for this beautiful christmas gift ❤️🥲

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

[lilyandthetulips]

December

It is December and we must be brave - Natalie Diaz

It’s the 1st and brave is easier said than done, so you have to sit in the sun and pull in a breath and hold it there because that’s all you can really do right now (doesn’t it feel so good? That air? I forgot I could do this) And you need to explain, again, to someone else that it didn’t work out and yes it was their loss and yes the right person will come when you least expect it and yes I am so young and hot and everything will be okay. So I write that on a sticky note and tape it on my mirror in the hopes it will stick (ha!) and it does for the times I’m yelling Bikini kill in my car, but not for the times that Bob Dylan comes on shuffle and I remember a certain way their shoulders slumped when they sat on the edge of the bed. 

Summer comes hot and heavy and thick, sliding down my back, the grass feels too warm between my toes, too green, too squishy. Remember spring? Remember how you named it after them? But it’s December Lil, not spring, and you must be brave. Tread lightly in the yard, deathly afraid of Christmas beetles and dog shit bombs, throw a slobbery tennis ball and ask Maple what she’s doing over and over and over even though you know she can’t answer because she’s a dog. Escape to the valley, find comfort at night, let the TV static bug noises hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm let the fence out back give way to the tangled trail between Queensland and New South Wales. Nothing but bush and mountain ranges and tall, stiff grass and snakes and rabbits and kookaburras and yowies and moths that think it’s funny to fly at your face. The dogs tap tap tap behind you as you go to make tea. You stand in the door frame and sigh and sip and yell oi! When someone pipes up behind you. Imagine ducking under the barbed wire with Cella and Maple in tow and running through the dry bushes and making friends with a yowie, tall and hairy and shy, and making feral howling noises and never thinking about spring again. I bet yowies don’t care about Bob Dylan.

I fear my phone that disgusting little brick of cells and wires and fingerprints full of things I don’t want to see or hear, hateful brick! I saw something just now in its evil little face and I don’t want to eat anymore. I should anyway. Can I please have a six-inch white with classic chicken not toasted thanks no cheese thankyou can I please have lettuce spinach carrot and onion just mayo please yeah salt and pepper thanks yes please I will take my free cookie yeah it’s been a busy shift lots of messy cunts leaving clothes in the fitting rooms what about you? Did you know that 37 of Bob Dylan’s songs have a woman’s name in the title?

I am unmoored. Intellectualise the need for attachment all you want but it will still be there, a tiny stone at the bottom of your stomach, rattling around with the lunch you forgot to eat. There is too much nuance in the grief of it to be explained in simple, scientific terms. Anxious attachment, avoidant, secure. It’s more abstract than those. The need to find someone else’s hair on your pillowcase when you strip the bed, the need to sit quietly together and talk about playing crack the egg when you were a kid. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t feel like this. But it’s December now! Come on! I will swim in the pool and crochet till my fingers are stiff. I will loop fuzzy yarn around and around and around my hand until the blood is constricted, my fingers red and puffy. I will scan bar codes and have sex and poke dog antibiotics into tiny chunks of beef mince. I miss my Yowie friend when I come back home, down from the mountain. I slam into the back of someone’s Hilux, I sweat on the curb in my crocs as translucent green radiator fluid slowly spreads along the bitumen. I sweat and I cry I apologise I call my dad. My tears are big and fat and I drop them everywhere and I don’t care (I do).

Oh, root rot! All my roots turn brown and slimy and I don’t know why. I pull them off and poke them down the drain. Now all my pothos stems are turning black and all my nails are growing long and I don’t know what to do about anything anymore. I place the pot in the sun on my deck and sit next to it like an old friend, this plant who has grown for years off my shelf, watching me work and squirm in bed, watching me read and pace and play the harmonica and crack open fortune cookies and take the fortunes way too seriously and do anything but write. Steadily pushing out a chain of waxy leaves, splitting the surface of its stems over and over and over. If it could speak it would probably laugh in my face and say something cryptic like One should feel freedom of the mind. And oh! What’s this? This tiny spec! It couldn’t be, could it? It is! Contentedness in the sun, my nose turns up, an earnest face, to the simplicity of the light. Ah, how quickly it can change my thoughts. It’s almost embarrassing.

God, here we are, we’re almost there, the edge of the cliff, hug yourself tightly now. December the 25th. Panic! I don’t want to be here anymore, I don’t want this body, I don’t want this heart. I don’t want these memories. I can’t just up and leave my bones, my skin, my muscle. I have to be here and play it out, I have to keep going knowing what I do about my past. I’m trying to say that sometimes it’s just too much. I’m trying to say that I have to carry the weight of everything I’ve ever felt, everything that everyone says I’m supposed to feel. Can’t I trade it in? These experiences? I don’t think I want them right now. Can’t I dump this sandbag of feelings slung over my shoulder on the concrete with a huh like the sound of being punched in the stomach? December is a black hole. Tie up your loose ends, throw away the receipts and 7/11 sandwich wrappers catching under your driver’s seat.

December’s language is imprecise grief - Nelly Sachs

“It’s basically medical at this point.” The grief. I say this to Zan in the Falcon. We are talking about the fear, the black hole. Fear of what? We don’t know. We are talking about how everything is going really well but I am still terrified. Terrified of everything that has ever happened and everything that will ever happen, it’s the 31st. An earnest conversation in running water. We are in the valley again, I am crouched at the mouth of a rockpool, water swells my bikini bottoms. I am shivering, I am small, I am humming It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue. Zan says this is their favourite place and I tell them that’s a bold statement for someone so young. I make paint by scraping wet rocks together, something I did when I was a kid. The grass is hot again and the blades are too wild and fat out here in the rainforest. Teens in a car are snickering at us as we grab our towels from the car park, I forget I’m not one of them anymore. When you’re sixteen everything feels like the end of the world. I’ve had so many end-of-the-worlds, I guess I could say the same for 21.

[lovely--lover]

Little things when you are Alex Jones Caretaker

💚After leaving the hospital you became Alex’s live in caretaker and he didn't want to leave your side too scared of what would happen if you were too far away. He cant remember ever feeling safe but he feels safe with you. What if someone took you? What if someone took him again? He would never see you again. 

💚When you’re watching tv he would sit right next to you with an inch between even with plenty of space on the couch. When you showered he would sit outside the door playing with toy cars until you were done and you would do the same when he took his bath. Every once in a while he would call out for you “Y/N” you would gently knock on the door “I’m right here Alex” 

💚Alex would sleep outside your door at night curled up with his blanket and puppy plushie. You didn't even know until one night you got up for a glass of water and almost tripped over him. End up sleeping in his room until he was able to sleep on his own without being scared. (every once in a while he’ll have a nightmare or a storm will scare him and you’ll wake up with him sleeping outside your door once again)

💚You would have to implement a ‘no toys at the dinner time’ rule because Alex would bring his toy cars to dinner and drive them around his plate and off the table too distracted to eat and his food would get cold (baby deserves a warm meal)

💚Sometimes while he’s eating he will reach into his pocket and slowly pull out his favorite car holding it under the table rolling it on his leg because he thinks you can’t see it (and you pretend you don't)

💚Alex has a tendency to eat too fast and take big bites when you make a homemade meal. He’s so used to frozen food or no food at all and food taste so much better when you make it! (I feel like he would really like pasta dishes and doesn't want to eat much else)

💚You buy food magazines for Alex to look through and tell him to circle anything that looks tasty. Almost everything is circled and the various cookie and dessert recipes are circled twice.

💚Alex always wears socks because he likes to cover his body as much as possible and doesn't like how cold the floor so you surprise him with hot wheel slippers that look like cars and he puts them on the second he wakes up and doesn't understand why you won’t let him wear them to the store 🤭

💚 The AC is always on since Alex likes wears multiple layers (it makes him feel safe) so you bought a green jacket that matched his and wear it around the house since it is sooo cold! When you're not wearing it Alex goes to find it because you're not wearing your matching jacket?? You must have lost it!

💚Afterwards he loves to have matching things whenever he sees a shirt or socks he likes he would grab a second set when you ask about it he just mumbles “matching” before putting it in the cart

💚 Alex always brings you a drink when you're sitting on the couch or working. Gently walking over holding the glass with both hands trying not to spill it because he always fills it too close to the top. Its a concoction he made just for you “Oh so this is orange and apple juice? Thank you” you drink it anyways because Alex said he knows you “like both” and smiles when you drink it all

💚Only lets you cut his hair so once a month Alex sits in a kitchen chair with a green towel wrapped around his shoulders as you trim his hair. Stares at you the entire time and when you glance down making eye contact his lips turn up into a small smile (every time)

💚Over time Alex would open up; speaking a sentence here or there, making eye contact with you, and every once in a while his lips would curl up in a rare smile. Having your safety and care allows him to grow and become his own person!

Masterlist

[mischiefmanaged71]

The Love Hypothesis (21/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X FEM! Reader

Word Count: 1K

Series Masterlist

Listening to the dramatized anecdotes from Stephen’s childhood via Hayden, Y/N had an inkling the stories were a culmination of years works to annoy the man to no end. 

“Guess there isn’t an age limit for embarrassment.” Hayden said, “Be glad I didn’t delve into the camp stories.” he laughed, shaking his head “I’ve got a few great ones.”

The unimpressed look on Stephen’s face shut Hayden down as he shuffled to the front of the restaurant. She laughed, picking a fortune cookie from the bowl at the front. 

“Don’t tell me, you hate these too?”

“I don’t, actually.” Stephen replied, “They just taste like Styrofoam.”

“Probably have similar nutritional values too.” Sam muttered, grabbing one from the bowl.

The rain had stopped, a shiny street under the streetlights. A cool breeze brushing stray leaves around them. The air was refreshing, a contrast to the warmth of the restaurant after many hours indoors.  

“ ‘He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at’ “ Hayden read, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Did this cookie just throw shade at me?”

“I believe so.” Sam replied, “What does yours say, Y/N?” 

“It’s fine, actually.” 

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.” Nat replied.

“ ‘It’s never too late to tell the truth.’ “ she hummed, tucking the paper in her pocket. 

Hayden fixed onto Stephen, “Stephen, open yours.”

He tilted his head to the side, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m not going to eat cardboard because you’re offended by the cookie.”

“You’re a shit friend.”

He tutted, “According to the fortune cookie industry, you’re-”

Y/N tugged his arm, “Hand it over. I’ll read it. And eat the cardboard.”

“Stephen is giving you a ride, right?” Sam asked.

“I should be fine, it’s only a ten minute walk back.” 

“What about your suitcase?”

“It’s not that heavy.” she dismissed, although glancing back at him, she corrected herself. “Stephen will walk me home, yeah?”

“Course.” he tugged her duffel bag off her shoulder, throwing it over his own.

Once Sam was no longer within earshot, she turned to Stephen.

“Are you sure you want to carry all that weight, you might throw your back out. I hear its common after a certain age.”

“You’re such a comedian, you know that?” he glared at her, following Hayden along to his car while Sam and Nat followed, grabbing a ride with him back to their respective apartments.

“Hey,” Hayden caught her attention, “What did Stephen’s fortune cookie say?”

“Oh, nothing.” she shrugged, looking down “Just ‘Hayden Reyes Ph.D is a loser’ “ 

Hayden laughed, throwing up his middle finger before they all left in his car. 

“What does it really say?” 

‘You can fall in love. Someone will catch you.’

“Is it alright if we talk about it? I think it’s only right that we do.”

“We can. We should-” he breathed, “Harvard is going to fire him. Other disciplinary measures are still being decided. There were meetings until late last night. That’s why I didn’t call you earlier. Harvard’s Title IX coordinator will be in touch with you soon.”

“What about your grant?”

He shook his head, “I’m not sure. I don’t particularly care about my grant right now.”

The comment surprised her, until she remembered the professional impact of Tom’s betrayal as a co-worker and friend. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I know he was your friend, you thought you could trust him-”

“I was wrong to have trusted him with you.” He shut his eyes, “I had no idea what he was truly like and that cost you...”

“He wasn’t my friend. I never knew him, obviously.”

“For a bit, I was worried that I would stop you from moving to Boston and doing the grant.”

“I don’t care-I could care less about any of it.” he ran a hand through his hair.

Her eyes glossed over his face, “I think I may have found a lab to finish my study. It’s closer. Means I won’t have to move next year.”

“Y/N, that’s great.” he smiled.

“You also weren’t the only one.”

His face twisted in confusion.

“The meeting in the bathroom. The one before my interview.”

“Did you remember that?”

A laugh bubbled in her throat, “Of course I did. It took me a while to realise it was you, though. Why did you never say anything?”

“You introduced yourself as if we had never met. So I went along with it.” 

Her face flushed in embarrassment as he continued, “I had been...thinking about you. For years. I didn’t want to...”

“But you didn’t need to lie.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Even by omission?”

He shrugged, a smirk sliding on his face, “Maybe. Are you upset?”

“Not really. It’s not that bad of a lie.” she mused, “I’m more upset at myself for the terrible ones I created. I didn’t bring it up after I figured it out.”

“Still, if you feel-”

She gripped his hand, “I’m not upset, Stephen.”

He glanced at her, “I’m other things...entirely other things. Glad, for one that this is all out in the open. That we can talk about it.”

“I’m also glad you remembered me.”

“You’re very memorable.”

“Am I really?”

“Do you remember your first seminar talk?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Your elevator pitch - the turbolift pitch. You used a picture from the Next Generation on your slides.”

“You’re a Trekkie too?” she laughed, “I had no idea.”

“I had a phase. And that next year’s picnic when we all got rained on. You played freeze tag with someone’s kid for hours.”

“Dr. Moss’s kid.” she stared at him curiously, “I didn’t think you liked kids.”

“I don’t like twenty-five year olds who act like toddlers. I don’t mind if they’re actually four.”

She smiled, “Knowing who I was. Did that have anything to do with your decision to date me?"

Recognising the dozen of scenarios and replies rushing through his eyes, “I wanted to help you.”

“I know. I believe you. But was that it?”

Stephen pressed his lips together, closing his eyes as he sighed. 

“No.” he resigned.

“No.” she repeated, “We’re here.” she looked up at the building.

“Should I carry your bag upstairs?” 

She paused, looking up at him, “Maybe later. There’s something I wanted to tell you. Before.”

“Okay.”

He stopped in front of her and she looked at him. There was only a small distance between them. Y/N felt her heart overflow with everything from the past few months catching up to her as she stared at him.

“Throughout all of this, I was a few things, if not, stubborn, in-denial and stupid. I was wrong. This whole time. It’s like statistical hypothesis testing. Type 1 error, right?”

“Type 1 error?”

“Yeah. A false positive. Thinking that something is happening when it isn’t.”

“I know what a Type 1 error is-”

“Course. The most terrifying thing is realising you misread a situation. That I could convince myself of something that wasn’t true. See something that wasn’t there because I wanted to see something.”

“Right.”

“The thing is, I didn’t account that a type 2 error is also bad.”

“Yes. False negatives are bad too.”

“Not being able to see something that’s right in front of you. Purposefully making yourself blind to the truth because you’re afraid of seeing too much.”

“What are you saying?” he stepped closer.

“There have been so many things that happened before I even met you. They changed me and I...have this fear of being alone. Maybe that is why I fabricated all of these lies instead of accepting the truth. I think...” she paused, looking up at him. She inhaled deeply, “I think I forgot myself.”

“What can I do?” 

“Just let me tell you.” she gripped his hand.

He didn’t find respite for the uneasy feeing in his stomach but he stopped, nonetheless, squeezing her hand.

“I’ve been lying to you. It’s more by omission, but- I need to tell you this now.” his hands gripped her face now, thumbs swiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “What is it?”

“I love you, Stephen.”

A look of surprise crossed his face as he pulled back a breath, searching her face for the truth. And when the realisation flowed through him, Stephen pressed his lips to her’s with the finality of it all reaching them. It was a passionate embrace that stripped the breath from her chest as he breathed her in.

“No idea how long I’ve dreamt of those words.” he exhaled.

TAGS

@goldencherriess @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @pasta-warlord @typical-bistander @judig92 @captainbarness @gaitwae​ @sleutherclaw @angstsfordays @mavsketch @mando-is-the-way @samisubi @liar-liar13 @evelynrosestuff @stanny-uwu @colorfuly-blog04 @frostandflamesfanfic @katsuphobic @fiadh-bell @awmysherl @sourgrapes-aa @orighami @apple-and-berry @blue-aconite @kaykay0315 @hunterofshadows04 @ohchoices @empty-canvas @99queenrory99 @savage-rhi @shutupwylow @singhfae @loki-is-loved @jotaros-bara-tiddies @cottagecore-cat @simpforreadheads @levitationcloak @hospitaldaydream​ @elicheel @supervengerslock @clockblobber @multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer @classicrebound @sherlockstrangewolf @veryladyqueen

[drowning-in-deadlines]

TID & TLH Incorrect Quotes

Cordelia: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. Matthew: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. Alastair: Yo Socrates, it’s a fucking cookie

x

*Tessa going to Will for help after Sophie knocks out Jessamine with a mirror in Clockwork Princess*

Tessa: Will, I need some advice. Will: You need advice from ME? Tessa: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

x

Charlotte: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without? Jessamine: Will, probably.

x

Matthew: How would you like your coffee? James: As dark and as bitter as my soul. Matthew, to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar.

x

Will: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Jem's birthday invitations. Tessa: Well, what are they supposed to say? Will: "Jem's birthday". Tessa: So, what do they say instead? Will: "Jem’s bi". Tessa: Tessa: Works out either way.

x

Jem: That's ridiculous, Will doesn't have a crush on me. Tessa: Yes he does. Cecily: Yes he does. Will: Yes I do.

x

James: Matthew, fuck off. James: And by "fuck off" I mean "fuck off right back here and listen", you insufferable prick.

x

Matthew: Alastair, my old friend! Alastair: I think you tried to kill me at some point. Matthew: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

x

Cordelia: Look guys, I need help. Anna: Love help? Matthew: Financial help? James: Emotional help? Lucie: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Lucie* Lucie: What?

x

Jem: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Tessa, blushing: Okay. Jessamine: It's fucking summer.

x

Jem: Will, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean? Will: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later. Jem: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Tessa. Will: Wait- Jem, no-

x

James: Can we go to a haunted house? Lucie: What’s wrong with the one we live in? James: Wh-what? Lucie: Goodnight, Jamie.

x

Lucie: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Grace. Malcolm: Did she get me the stuff? Lucie: Yeah, she says she got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood. Malcolm: Wow! Where’d she find 12 gallons of fake blood? Lucie: You wanted fake blood? Malcolm: Lucie: I’ll go call Grace.

x

Jessamine: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons! Will: Bet you I can! Charlotte: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

x

James: I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here. Lucie: Matthew is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Jamie. Matthew: I feel like James is the more responsible one of us two, though. James: We are both 70% of each others' impulse control. Matthew: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

x

Will: Would you take a bullet for me? Jem: ...yes? *Jessamine angrily burst into the room* Will: *running away* Great, thanks!

x

Jem: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Will: Wow. They sound stupid. Jem: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Will: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Jem: I guess you’re right. Hey Will, I love you. Will: See! Just say that! Jem: Holy fucking shit. Will: If that flies over their head then, sorry Jem, but they're too dumb for you. Jem: Will.

x

Tatiana: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”. Tatiana: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

x

Charlotte: Did you miss me while I was gone? Henry: You were gone?

x

Charlotte: I am in charge of this disaster. Will: I have a name, you know.

x

James, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Lucie: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

x

Matthew: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Christopher: They do. Thomas: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

x

Matthew: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited. Thomas: "If" Alastair: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and he might not even die.

x

Tessa: How do you do that? Will: I'm fearless. Jem: I saw you run from bees ducks yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Will: I'm mostly fearless.

[donutloverxo]

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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

“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

all the concussions gave steve memory problems and migraines bad enough to hospitalize and it gets really rough on him sometimes

Just his fucking luck.

He couldn’t remember if his mother wanted chicken noodle or cream of mushroom soup and he lost the whole slip of paper with the list. Must have thrown it out with the Snickers bar he’d nicked.

He tossed both in the wire shopping cart. Heard a familiar voice from behind and turned to see Billy Hargrove looking at him. A perplexed expression, the barest hint of uncertainty behind the eyes.

Steve asked like he’d missed something, “What?”

Billy’s eyes rolled up, “I said, where’ve you been, Harrington? You’ve missed the last four days of school.” He took in the mass already forming in the cart, “Some people are getting worried— What the hell are you doing?”

Steve glanced from Hargrove, to the basket, and back to Billy again, “Uhm….” Billy raised both his eyebrows, Steve thought they looked kind of like those fuzzy caterpillars his mother always yelled at him for trying to touch.

“It’s just,” Hargrove gestured to Steve, “You don’t look like the typical skipping school guy. You’re buying—” he squinted and Steve stepped out of the way for him, “—Relish, whole grain bread, and pre-made cookie dough? Shouldn’t you be sneaking some beer, or frozen pizzas?”

Steve pursed his lips and turned back to assess his lot, “That’s a lot of questions for someone holding bubblegum toothpaste.”

He heard Billy snort, kinda bemused, “It’s for Max.”

Steve’s ears started pinging when a wheel began squeaking, “Whatever floats your boat, Buddy.” His skull felt like he’d gone through a car wash. Not as bad as the rest of the week, but it was getting there. He vaguely remembered hearing something about a purple nail polish, although he hoped his mother would understand. “Sorry to cut this short,” he wasn’t even sure if Billy was still there, “I have to get home.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, gentle but heavy, “You’re lookin’ a little red, Harrington.” Something smooth pressed against this forehead, his vision a little too blurry and unfocused to really see what Billy was doing exactly. “You’re warm.” The silence wasn’t heavy, and when Billy let him ease a bit of his own weight against him, Steve didn’t feel as much in a rush as before anyway. Billy’s finger brushed his jaw, tried not to think to much about it. “If you pay for the toothpaste, I’ll drive you home.”

“Deal.” Steve let Billy take the cart, “The doctors said I shouldn’t drive when it gets like this anyway.” Billy’s arm wrapped around his waist and then moved up to his upper back.

“Oh yeah?”

Steve glared at the soup cans, “The cafeteria lights trigger them the most.” He turned his head towards Billy once they reached the end of a line. “I have a study hall fifth period, the sunlight when they open the windows reflects off of the tables and walls. I have light sensitive eyes now. I had to get more pain relief.”

Billy looked over hastily, eyes slightly bigger, “Now?”

Steve looked away from the magazine display, “Now, what?”

Billy had a reflection of fear along his brow, “When did they start, Steve?”

Oh.

“It’s been a while,” he answered. The hand on his shoulder moved around, spread its warmth and made it so they were closer together. The pain subsided, if only a smidge.

“I’m sorry.”

He stepped on Billy’s foot purposefully, “We’ve done this already, Hargrove.”

“But—”

“You are not the sole reason—”

“You were at the hospital, weren’t you? Wheeler and Byers ment—”

Steve stepped on his foot again, harsh enough that Billy sucked in a breath, “Don’t interrupt me.”

Billy gaped, Steve become sidetracked with his freckles. “You started it!”

Before he could lift his foot again for another attack, the line moved forward.

—

Billy had one hand on the wheel and the other around Steve’s wrist, feeling out the pulse.

“I’m fine, William.”

“Stephen.”

He closed his eyes, discontent, “You did my yard work for a week.”

Billy leaned more towards the steering wheel, “So?”

“You gave the kids free swim passes. And. You’re still helping me with, like, more than half of my classes. For free.”

Billy nodded, “Monday’s and Thursday’s.” He nodded, “Which you missed this week, because of me.”

“No—”

“You were never hospitalized for you headaches before that night, Harrington.”

Steve slid his arm and gripped Billy’s hand in order to do the same with his attention, “My head started getting fucked up the day a got a beating from Jonathan Byers.” Billy scowled. “And you know what?” just a hint of a smile peaked through Steve’s lips. Billy glanced over with distaste. “I deserved it and I don’t blame him for it.” Billy’s hand went limp in his own. Heavier. “And I don’t blame you anymore. You help me remember my schedule and locker combination. You let me have your orange slices at lunch because you know they’re the only fruit I’ll eat besides strawberries.” Billy’s eyes were glassy as he pulled into the driveway. “And guess what?”

Billy wouldn’t look at him, “What?”

“It’s panini night, Mom got the prosciutto and salami.”

Billy considered it and then started hurriedly out of the car “You can carry one bag, Harrington, any more and I’ll kiss you.”

“What kind of threat is that?”

—

It had been tomato soup, by the way.