#remember how i said there were a few matches that were going to hurt me deeply?
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Hottest JoJo Character Bracket - Match 2-2
#remember how i said there were a few matches that were going to hurt me deeply?#yeah this was the one i was thinking about#HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE BETWEEN MY LOVELIES#my trans children#my loves#i love them so much i cant do this#narancia ghirga#giorno giovanna#vento aureo#golden wind#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo's bizarre adventure#jjba#who's hotter jjba#hottest jjba character bracket#jjba minor
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Head in the Clouds IV
Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader
Summary: Your first few months in Barcelona
On the second to last match of the season at Chelsea, you get hurt.
You go to ground instantly and clutch at your leg, shrieking and rolling around on the floor. Your girlfriend is at your side instantly, holding your hand and whispering in your ear.
You tear your hamstring on the second to last match.
Alexia, Marta and Patri watch the replay of it happening a week later after they're told that Barcelona are signing you.
"Is it going to be healed in time?" Patri asks," It looked bad."
"She didn't need surgery and the doctors have given her around ten weeks. She'll be ready in time for the first match of the season."
"She's kind of young," Marta voices her thoughts next.
"So are a lot of our players."
"But they're from La Masia. They've been playing our style of football since they were kids. How do you know she'll do well?"
"We know," The staff respond," She's a great player and Lyon wanted her too. Be happy we snapped her up first."
Alexia sighs. "And what about schoolwork? She's English, right? Is she sticking with an English school or one of ours?"
"Her dad's Spanish," The staff member says," She speaks Spanish too."
Alexia, Marta and Patri frown as Paños walks in nearly ten minutes late.
"What did I miss?"
You don't feature much in their minds until your arrival in Barcelona months later.
A lot of the team are still riding the high of being World Cup winners so you largely go unnoticed for the first few days.
Alexia watches you from a distance though.
The staff said your father was Spanish yet she doesn't recognise you in the slightest. Clearly, you haven't been called up for the Spain youth teams yet so maybe you aren't quite as talented as the club seems to think you are.
You're on the tail end of your rehab so you're not in full training yet and no one's quite seen your skills.
You're not the only new member of the team and with everyone else in training, you fade into the background a bit.
"She looks familiar," Irene notes one day as she watches you pass slowly with one of the trainers.
"Does she? I don't recognise her," Alexia replies.
"No. I'm sure that I know her from somewhere."
It's not until weeks later that Irene knows how she recognises you.
She knows your father is Spanish, most of the team know by now but, like everyone else, she'd assumed that he was Catalan.
So, when Aitana addresses you in Catalan one day and you don't respond, it piques interest.
"You don't speak Catalan?"
"Why would I speak Catalan?"
"Because of your dad?"
"Oh! Papa is Basque so we speak that!"
"L/n?" Irene repeats your last name and you turn to look at her. "Your father doesn't happen to be one of the L/n's from Legazpi?"
"He is! How did you know that?"
A little bubble of laughter escapes Irene. "They used to live next door to me when I was a kid."
"Wow! That's so cool!"
It's another week or so before you join everyone else in training and that's when you make your mark.
You're a natural on the ball, easily cutting through everyone to bury it in the net. You receive passes expertly, bringing the ball down and turning to shoot in the next moment.
Most of all, you look like you're having fun. You look like the kids on the schoolyard do. You look like Alexia felt the first time she watched the men play at Camp Nou with her father.
You have talent, that much is certain.
But talent in training is different to talent in a match.
Since the revelation that you're Basque like her, Irene sticks close to you.
You enjoy her company. With your grandparents across the country, it's nice to speak Basque with someone and Irene's wife and son are so nice and sweet and you find yourself over at her place all the time.
It's at the same time, that Lucy and Keira seem to remember that you're English. It's fun to speak to people in English that understand your slang and Lucy in particular seems to light up when you mention that you've played for the England youth team a few times.
With you fully healed from your injury and the first match of the season coming up, you find yourself subbed on at the same time as Alexia.
She doesn't have high hopes with this being the first match of the season and the team getting back into the rhythm but she can't help but watch as you receive the ball in the midfield.
She expects you to be shut down quickly and pass it off but you avoid everyone that tries to take you down, even neatly leaping over a slide tackle.
You go one on one with the goalkeeper before chipping it over.
Alexia has never quite seen something like that before, especially from one so young.
You get another goal a moment later, nutmegging the keeper on your way and then complete your hattrick with ease with a worldie from outside the box.
A game that would have ordinarily ended 2-1 to Barcelona ends 5-1 because of three perfect goals from you.
You're a talent, Alexia thinks as you rock happily back and forth on your feet as you wait for your Nana and Granddad to come down from the stands.
You're better than a talent and Alexia can see you easily skipping the rest of the youth teams to make it into the senior teams.
She can imagine how easy it would be to link up with you for Spain, delivering pass after pass so you can kick it in easily.
She makes eye contact with Lucy across the pitch and the smirk tells Alexia everything she needs to know.
Lucy wants you for England.
"This is my granddad!" You tell Alexia, holding the hands of an older man with a receding hairline but a face marked with a life well lived and an older woman with a stern look and a walking stick," And my Nana!"
Your Nana says something but it's not the English that Alexia expects.
Her stomach sinks.
"Was that Swedish I heard?" Frido asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
"Yes!" You say, gesturing to your Nana," She's from Sweden! We speak it at home together."
A thoughtful look appears on Frido's face and Alexia's eyes narrow.
No.
This can't be happening.
The most promising youngster Alexia has seen in years, can't be eligible to play for three different countries.
It's just not possible yet it's the position Alexia finds herself in now.
It's hours later that Olga wakes up to the sound of drilling in the middle of the night. She's got an early morning train to Madrid for work and groans as she's woken up, dragging herself out of bed and wandering down to the basement where the sound is coming from.
Alexia looks manic and Olga's mouth hangs open.
A conspiracy theory style board is screwed into the wall with pieces of string connecting pictures to you in the very centre.
"Ale?" She asks, not willing to believe her eyes," What is this?"
"A family tree!" Alexia replies almost too happily to not be tinged with the edge of sleep deprivation.
"Okay. Why do you have it?"
"I told you about that kid, right? Y/n L/N? Well turns out if she doesn't want to play for Spain then she's got two more countries she can play for! I'm just checking that she's not eligible for anyone else!"
"Alexia...What the hell?! Go to bed!"
"In a minute," Alexia says dismissively," I'm just working out whether any of her parents were adopted or not."
#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#barca femeni#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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Plenty Implied
Written for @steddiesongfics and @steddiebingo Song: Baby, It's Cold Outside Prompts: Under the influence (R1), winter (R1 and 12 days of Christmas) Rating: E | WC: 2,343 | Tags: Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, getting together, first kiss, snowed in For full list of tags see ao3 | Divider credit
This wasn't how Steve had expected his night to go. He'd expected the blind date his mother had set him up on to suck (it had). He'd expected there to be a kerfuffle over the bill, no matter which of them paid (his date had). He'd expected the night to end with him and Robin cuddled on the couch, eating cookies and ice cream while they talked about how bad his mother's taste in dates for him was.
The getting home part was where everything had gone wonky. Even if he hadn't locked the keys in his car, the snow had piled up so fast that he wouldn't have been able to make it out of the parking lot.
Maybe if he'd left at the same time as his date then he would've been able to get out. But he hadn't, he'd stayed behind and finished the wine he'd ordered while watching the Alpha behind the bar.
Now here he was, sitting in the corner of said Alpha's couch while Eddie puttered around the kitchen. He hadn't yet decided whether Eddie living above the restaurant was good luck or not. It would depend on if Steve's mother found out he'd started the evening with one Alpha and ended it with another.
"Marshmallows or no marshmallows?"
Eddie's voice pulled Steve back to the moment. "Marshmallows," he said, looking towards the kitchen.
When Eddie joined him again he was holding two mugs piled high with whipped cream, marshmallows, and… chocolate shavings? As if the cocoa wasn't surprising enough, it was brought out in matching Garfield mugs.
"I sort of thought you were joking about making cocoa." Steve took his mug and held it close. The warm scent of chocolate and cinnamon wrapped around him. It mixed surprisingly well with the scent of Eddie — tobacco and leather.
"Stevie. I would never joke about hot cocoa." Eddie didn't sit down beside him right away and instead crossed to a table pushed against the wall. Steve watched nimble fingers flip through the vinyls until he'd found what he wanted.
"…Really?" Steve laughed as the voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room. "Isn't this a little on the nose?"
"Maybe that's why I picked it." Eddie grinned as he took his seat. "Did you get ahold of your friend?" He gestured to the cordless he'd given Steve before stepping into the kitchen.
"No. She didn't answer, I figured I would try again in a few minutes." Steve flicked his tongue out to try and clear a spot for himself to drink out of through the whipped cream. Rich chocolate flavor exploded on his tongue, followed by the subtle burn of alcohol.
"I think Ella was on to something, there's definitely more than chocolate in this," he teased.
Eddie's rumbling laugh made Steve shiver. "I just figured it would help warm you up," he said. His nose wrinkled in a way that made Steve want to lean in and kiss the tip of it. "…Was that creepy? I can make you some without, I just remembered you having wine earlier, didn't think it would hurt—"
"You were watching me?" Steve asked.
"I didn't say that." Eddie arched one brow as he took a long drink. He licked the whipped cream mustache away before Steve could offer to do it. "But yeah, I was. It's always fun to be an innocent bystander for the trainwreck dates."
"Trainwreck!" Steve barked out in a laugh. "You could not tell it was a trainwreck from all the way over by the bar."
"Trust me, you work with people as long as I have, you learn to pick up on things." Eddie settled in against the couch with one arm stretched out along the back of it. "If that's what you count as a good date, I would hate to see what counts as bad."
Steve settled back, too, with his hands around his mug and his body facing Eddie's. "It wasn't the worst date I've ever had. Just… awkward."
"What is the worst date you've ever had?"
Another laugh bubbled up as Steve drained half of his mug. "It'll take more than one mug of hard cocoa to get that out of me."
"You're not serious." Eddie watched Steve with wide eyes.
"I fucking wish I was joking!"
It had taken more than one hard cocoa, but just barely. Steve had managed to get through to Robin (who, to her credit, only panicked a little at the idea of Steve being with a guy neither of them knew, and she only demanded his full name, address, a physical description, and his license plate number in case Steve didn't show up again once the weather had cleared up). Once the cocoa was gone and Robin knew Steve was somewhere safe for the night, they had switched to a bottle of bourbon Eddie had brought home from work.
There was something about Eddie that Steve found comforting in a way he hadn't found with anyone but Robin in a very long time. Maybe it was because Eddie hadn't even blinked when Robin had demanded to speak to him, too. Maybe it was because he looked tough and rugged, with his ripped jeans and his motorcycle boots and the tattoos covering his arms, but he had at least two Garfield mugs in his kitchen and he listened to Ella Fitzgerald on snowy nights.
Eddie's laugh was big and bright and Steve found that he wanted to wrap himself up in it because it warmed him even more than their drinks had. He was just warm, and Steve found himself slowly gravitating closer and closer to Eddie's end of the couch.
If Robin was here, she would be telling him that he needed to be careful. He fell too hard too fast and he always got hurt for it. This night, though, Eddie, it all felt different. This wasn't even a date, Eddie had just been nice enough to offer Steve somewhere to warm himself up for the night.
Now Steve wanted to offer Eddie somewhere warm, too.
It was a stupid line brought on by a horny thought, and Steve nearly spat out his drink.
"You good, man?" Eddie asked as he reached over to lightly clap Steve on the back. His scent was even stronger when he was this close.
"I'm good." Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. "Just— stupid thought. I think I need to take that as my sign to head to bed."
"Okay." Eddie tossed back the rest of his drink and started cleaning their dishes up. Steve reached out to help and Eddie stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Stay there, I've got this."
"I can help," Steve insisted. He stood up and grabbed their empty mugs. "Besides, I'm, uh… going to need some pajamas, if you have anything I can borrow?"
"Oh fuck, right!" Eddie put the bottle of bourbon back down on the coffee table and hurried down a short hallway to what Steve assumed was his bedroom.
While Eddie was gone Steve carried their dishes to the kitchen. He rinsed them out and left them to be washed in the morning. Eddie could still be heard rummaging in his room, so Steve took a moment to be a little nosy. He let his fingertip curl around the cabinet door.
Eddie didn't just have a Garfield mug. There were juice glasses with the fat orange cat on them, and were those dinner plates? Steve lifted one up carefully to get a closer look— Garfield in a night dress and cap, beside Odie in a rocking chair.
"Not what you expected, huh?"
Caught, Steve put the plate back and turned to Eddie with pink cheeks. "I was just wondering, after I saw the mugs. I would say I'm not usually that nosy, but…" He shrugged. "I would be lying."
Eddie grinned wide and Steve once more found himself watching the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.
"It's something I got into with my uncle," he explained. "We watched the cartoons together. It's something we bonded over when I moved in with him." He held something out to Steve. "I don't actually have any clean pajama pants…"
Steve unfolded the shirt. It was soft and worn, with a few tiny holes around the neck. Clearly this was a shirt that Eddie had had for a while, one he loved. And he was offering it up to Steve to use for the night.
Whatever resolve or sense of propriety Steve had left flew out the window. He'd wondered earlier what his mother would think about him having dinner with one Alpha and then going home with another one entirely.
Finding out her son not only went home with a stranger, but that he was the one who made the first move, might've sent her to an early grave.
Steve didn't let that stop him as he closed the distance between them. His hand cupped Eddie's cheek, thumb stroking his jaw, and then their lips were pressed together.
Eddie's lips were soft and warm. He tasted like chocolate and alcohol and Steve would never get enough.
"Look, I know it might be forward," he murmured. "But you smell so good, and you're so nice, and I would kick myself if I didn't shoot my shot."
Warm air brushed Steve's mouth as Eddie laughed again. Steve was becoming addicted to that, too.
"I got you tipsy and didn't give you pants to sleep in, and you think you're being forward?"
"Giving me pants would've just made it that much harder for you to get into them, wouldn't it?"
Eddie actually groaned, but then his mouth was on Steve's again and Steve's back was pressed against the lip of the counter. "Fuck, that was cheesy."
"Says the man with the Garfield collec— hey!" Steve yelped as he was lifted up onto the counter. Eddie was slim, lean, but there was a strength in his arms that was surprising.
Eddie's lips trailed over his jaw and up towards his ear. "Don't pretend the Garfield collection isn't what won you over."
"Was I that transparent?" Steve murmured. His legs came up to wrap around Eddie's waist, his arms draped around those wide shoulders.
"'Fraid so." Eddie pressed a kiss to the moles on the underside of Steve's jaw. "You know… if seeing my dinnerware made you want to jump into bed with me, I can't wait until you see my pajamas."
Steve threaded a hand into Eddie's soft hair and stole another kiss that was almost teasing. "Oh, baby. I don't think either of us could handle that."
Neither of them stopped smiling as Eddie lifted him off of the counter, as they bumped their way down the hallway.
Steve was far from a blushing virgin, had been around the block more than few times. None of his partners had been like Eddie, though.
Eddie's mouth left a trail of fire as he played connect the dots with Steve's moles. His fingers stoked Steve's pleasure higher and higher, until his thighs shook and there was a patch of slick on the bed beneath them, until he'd fallen apart not once but twice.
Eddie was right there after, too, kissing Steve's shattered edges and melting them until they were fitted together and he was whole again.
When Eddie finally settled over him, when they were finally joined as one, it was with their hands threaded together on either side of Steve's head.
It wasn't rushed. It was slow and languid, with kisses to eyelids and cheeks and chins, with Eddie sucking marks into Steve's skin and Steve urging Eddie on with his heels.
They came together with a cry from Steve and Eddie panting Steve's name into the hollow of his throat.
Afterward there was an ease with Eddie that Steve hadn't gotten from other partners. There was no hasty cleanup, no scrambling for clothes. Eddie just rolled them away from the wet spot. He kissed Steve gently, then slipped out of bed to get a wet washcloth to wipe them both off.
Steve slipped into the shirt Eddie had brought to him. It was even softer when it was on. Eddie's scent was there beneath the laundry detergent scent, too.
Eddie wrapped around him when he got back into bed. He tucked the blankets around them and buried his face in Steve's neck in a way that showed Steve wasn't the only one feeling a little scent addicted.
Sleep was just taking over when Eddie's voice roused him again.
"You think roses would be appropriate?"
"Hmm?" Steve cracked one eye open. "For what?"
"Feel like I owe your date a thank you after this."
Steve lightly smacked Eddie's hip. "You don't think there's someone else you should be thanking?"
"Oh, right." Eddie nuzzled down against the top of Steve's head and held him that much tighter. "I'll have to get some for your mom, too."
"Eddie!" Steve dissolved into sleepy giggles that he tried to stifle against Eddie's shoulder. "That's still not who I was talking about!"
"I know." Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth and gathered him impossibly closer. "Thought you might like breakfast more than flowers. Figured I would save flowers for our first date."
"This wasn't a date?" Steve asked. "What would you call it?"
Eddie took so long to answer that Steve was almost sure he'd fallen asleep, too. "Our meet cute. But we should probably leave out the sex when we tell our future grandpups."
Steve couldn't stop the purr that started in his chest.
Even if there was talk tomorrow about what he'd done, and if it made its way back to his parents, he'd met the Alpha of his dreams, someone who collected Garfield memorbilia and talked about pups before they'd even technically been on a date.
They fell asleep wrapped up together, with Steve's purr still rumbling on and the snow falling down around them.
#steddiesongfics#steddiebingo2025#steddiebingo12daysofchristmas#Steddie#Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson#Omegaverse#kintsugi_kid ao3
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pls write some fluff w dani and gn!reader
12:00AM ‹𝟹
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ; daniela avanzini x gn reader.
summary ::: you and dani have been in the talking stage for a couple weeks now, but new years might be the final push you two need.
warnings ::: reader gets a little overstimulated, but that's it !!
note... a week late for new years bc im a slow writer.. and the intro reads a tad rushed bc i had a rough time figuring out how to make the transition smooth :[ im very sorry!! (also i am in fact working on some other requests rn! ty guys sm for your patience ^.^)
dani smiled, greeting everyone excitedly whilst they cheered over her arrival. you stood behind her nervously, yours hands intertwined, giving a meek smile along with small waves to the few people who noticed and welcomed you in.
you were dani's plus one to a new years gathering, and to say you were anxious was an understatement; this was the first time you were meeting any of her friends in person. you'd talked to a few of them interchangeably a couple times, when they'd burst into her room while the two of you were calling or texting. you'd talked the most to manon, seeing as she's dani's roomate, and often entertained you whenever dani stepped away for a little during one of your calls.
it wasn't long before two of you were pulled away into watching an on-going uno match, as it was the crowd's current main focus.
eventually, that game ended, and a second one started—but unfortunately, you had been eliminated pretty early on, and since everyone else was busy continuing on with the game, you'd figured it'd be okay to step out onto the balcony for a few as it had gotten a little rowdy due to all the +2s.
what you didn't realize, was that dani had gotten eliminated as well, and noticed you leaving. she frowned, wondering if something happened that upset you. to not draw any attention to you or her, she stood up quietly, following you out onto the balcony.
“yn?” she called out, softly shutting the balcony door behind her. you greeted her, smiling sheepishly as she stood next to you. “are you alright?”
“yeah. it was just kind of.. loud.”
she inched closer to you, taking your hands in hers. “we can leave if you want.”
you shook your head profusely, “no, i'm okay. really.” you gave her hands a light squeeze as affirmation, your heart warming up at the fact that she seemed so genuinely concerned.
she opened her mouth to say something else, immediately being cut off by ruckus from within the house; everyone had paused the game and begun counting down. “it's 12:00 already?” she muttered, unconsiously fiddling with your hands.
as soon as the countdown got to one, your eyes were fixated on the sky, cheerfully watching all the different fireworks go off. dani, on the other hand, had her gaze fixated on you; admiring how pretty you looked with all the firework colors lighting up your face.
“can i kiss you?” her voice was barely over a whisper, as if it was a thought that wasn't meant to be said aloud.
you whipped your head to look at her, immediately being met with her gaze; the sweetest, love-filled doe eyes you'd ever seen staring back at you. she was a lot closer than you remembered, yet you were unsure if you had even heard her correctly.
“please?” hearing her plea made your stomach flip, and you couldn't help but nod giddily.
you couldn't even get a second nod in before her lips were on yours, her hand traveling up to caress your cheek while the other tugged you closer by the hem of your shirt. the kiss was slow, her lips moving against yours passionately, though delicately, as if she were afraid to hurt you or possibly scare you away.
she let go of your shirt, bringing her other hand up to hold your face fully. your knees wobbled, feeling her smile into the kiss. “already falling for me?”
you barely had the chance to respond before a knock on the balcony door startled you two apart.
“we're.. starting uno round three.. or are you guys too busy?” manon smiled innocently at the two of you, clearly planning all the different ways she'd tease dani about this later.
dani bashfully muttered a response, entwining your hands again and following manon back inside, bringing you along with her.
── 𖹭 ──
for the rest of the night, dani hovered around you; her hand never left yours and the smile on her face never faded once. the kiss had seemingly boosted her confidence, as she'd started openly using pet names for you. she'd also gotten a lot more touchy; currently, she had her arms wrapped around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder while she hugged you from behind.
“babe, play that one.” dani perked up, using her head to point to a card in your hand.
“hold on. how is it fair that these two are teaming??” megan called out, pointing at you and dani, since you guys had decided to mix your cards and just play as one.
“leave them alone megan, you know dani will explode if she's away from yn for five minutes.” sophia remarked, nudging dani with her shoulder playfully.
dani's cheeks heated up and she hid her face in the crook of your neck, hugging you a little tighter.
you finally placed down a card, “okay, okay. lara, your turn.” unable to hold back your smile, you turned to dani, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before turning your attention back to the game.
#i LOVE spreading the clingy dani agenda#₊˚⊹☆ – 851 words#₊˚⊹☆ – divider creds; cafekitsune#daniela avanzini x reader#daniela x reader#dani x reader#daniela avanzini#katseye#katseye x reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#x reader#kpop#katseye imagines#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#₊˚⊹☾ – works#₊˚⊹☾ – requests
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Aim for the Sky Part 24 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Spoiled beyond his wildest dreams, Bradley tries to take some time to appreciate everything he has on his birthday, but it can be hard to contain his excitement.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, anal sex, DILF Roo
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Bradley was eager. He didn't want you to know how eager, but he was sure it was obvious by now.
"Your cheeks are pink," you whispered, cupping them in both of your hands as he buckled you in. "Did all the dancing and hot sauce get to you?"
"Something like that," he murmured, kissing you so thoroughly, you gasped when he pulled away. The look you gave him beneath the dome light was indecent as he dragged his hand up your body and between your breasts so he could stroke your chin and your perfect cheek. Oh, you absolutely knew why his face was flushed and his hands were so grabby. But it was your fault anyway.
"Should we head home for the night?" you asked innocently.
As if you hadn't been talking about how your ass was all his since this morning.
Fuck. Every year, you gave him the most perfect birthday. When he turned thirty-six, you took him to La Jolla, and he couldn't wait to take you back there next week when your parents came out to watch Rose. Last year when he turned thirty-seven, he fucked you so hard in the backseat of your wretched little Honda Civic, he totaled the thing. At least you got pregnant with Rose that night.
And this year, he got to spend the evening reminiscing and enjoying the company of his wife and his daughter. He couldn't even remember how fucking bad every other birthday was between the year he lost his mom and when he turned thirty-five right before he met you. Since then, he'd been treated like a king. Today was no different. Tonight would follow suit.
"Yeah," he grunted, "let's go home."
The drive back to Coronado was mostly quiet while Rose slept. You had your hand on Bradley's thigh, and he had his hand on top of yours.
"You're excited," you whispered into the darkness. "I can practically feel your anticipation, Roo."
"Oh, fuck," he groaned. He was a complete mess for you tonight, and you knew it. He might as well just say it, but he didn't want you to think you didn't satisfy him all the time. He ran his left hand over his face when he stopped at a red light. "I'm really horny, Sweetheart. Somehow you know just what to do that's going to make me go wild. You've always known."
He could feel you preening next to him as the light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. "I like making you excited on your birthday."
"You do this to me every day," he insisted.
A few minutes later, he was rushing Rose inside in her car seat, and you were locking the door behind him. "I'll put her down in her crib if you put Tramp outside?"
You were already heading for the sliding glass door as you said, "I'll meet you in our bedroom."
He grunted in response, unclipping Rose from her carrier and depositing her gently in her crib. "I'll come back to change your diaper," he promised, straightening out her outfit.
He needed to calm the fuck down, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. But when he walked into the bedroom, you made eye contact before pulling your dress over your head and tossing it onto the floor.
"You're killing me," he groaned, already working at his shirt buttons as you climbed into bed in your matching red lace bra and thong. He wrenched the fabric over his head and nearly fell down as he tried to take his shoes and jeans off at the same time.
Just as he was about to dive in bed after you, he watched you hold up your hand and whisper, "Go get the lube from the bathroom drawer, birthday boy."
Bradley felt dizzy as he turned toward the open doorway and dug around inside your drawer until he was rewarded with exactly what he needed. Armed with the water based lube and a massive boner, this time he did dive into bed with you. The bottle came to rest next to your head, and you giggled as he dipped down into a push up to kiss you.
"You are eager."
"There's no point in lying, Sweetheart. I am fucking eager."
It was almost better that this was a rare occurrence for him, because he just knew how good it was going to be as you tilted your chin up to kiss him. He could feel your hands on his abs before they slid inside his underwear. His eyes fluttered closed against the feel of your fingers teasing him, and he whispered, "I'm already turned on. Let me turn you on, too."
As he worked his way down your body, he felt your hands on his face. "Don't look at my belly," you whispered, pushing him further down toward your pussy.
"I like your belly," he grunted, pulling your underwear down so he could get to your tattoo and kiss you everywhere. "I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?"
"Because you're about to have anal sex."
"With my wife." Bradley's lips skimmed your pussy as he spoke. "I'm turned on, because I've been thinking about you. And how fucking hot you are. And about the fact that you trust me not to hurt you. And how you let know every intimate inch of your body."
"Roo," you whimpered as he licked your pussy before kissing you there.
"I don't really care if we have anal sex tonight or never again," he said, looking up your body and meeting your gaze as your fingers gripped his hair. "But don't act like the mere notion of me getting to explore and enjoy your body isn't going to drive me wild. You know me. You know what you do to me."
He watched your lace covered chest rise and fall as you sighed deeply. Bradley took your thighs in his hands as you spread your legs wider for him. "I want you to enjoy every inch of me."
He ran his nose through your slick warmth, kissing you everywhere while he said, "You're absolutely fucking perfect, Baby Girl."
-----------------------------
You weren't expecting to feel emotional tonight, but while your husband ate your pussy, leaving you a squirming, writhing mess in the middle of the bed, your heart skipped a beat as you replayed his words.
I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?
He told you so frequently that he thought you were perfect, and you kind of felt perfect as you sucked in deep breaths in nothing but your red bra while he gave you an absolutely killer orgasm.
"Oh god," you whined, your right heel digging into his back as he sucked on your clit and hit that mind-blowing spot inside you with two firm fingers. Bradley knew just what to do because you'd willingly let him explore your body to his heart's content for years. And you wanted him to have more, because you knew he'd give you more in return.
When your back arched off the bed and you came for him, you saw colorful stars at the edge of your vision. It was just that damn good. It took you a few seconds to catch your breath, but when you did, you rolled onto your stomach and looked back at him.
"It's your birthday, not mine," you whispered, and he raised one eyebrow before crawling until his body was covering yours. "Why am I the one getting all the orgasms?"
"Because I love you," he replied, kissing your cheek. You could feel his erection against the back of your thigh, and you wiggled your rear end against him until he groaned. "If you keep teasing me with that thing, I'm going to make a mess all over you."
You didn't try to hide your smile as you said, "Go ahead and make a mess inside me. Just go slow so it doesn't hurt."
His dark eyes widened a bit. "In your ass?" When you nodded, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm absolutely sure, birthday boy."
But he didn't jump right to it. He carefully unhooked your bra and slid it down your shoulders so he could kiss the full expanse of your back. "You're so fucking soft," he whispered. His lips and mustache left your skin extra sensitive as he sucked along the back of your neck until you were moaning his name. "That sounds so pretty." Then you felt his hands rough against your ass and your thighs before he made himself at home, lapping at your pussy from behind. You knew you were still wet, and he used your slick to coat up your asshole with his tongue, big hands gripping you.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, and you groaned a garbled answer letting him know that yes, it did. "Want me to keep going?"
You could feel his finger at your opening, and you whimpered. "As long as you use the lube."
He did, and he worked at you for a while, never rushing you to the next stage before you were comfortable. His fingers were thick, but you knew how big his cock was, and you balled your fists up in the sheets and got onto your knees when you were ready for him.
The stretch felt good. Bradley's body behind yours was like a dream, and his voice in your ear as he pushed himself incrementally deeper made you relax. "Jesus Christ," he rasped. "My god, Sweetheart. Oh, fuck." His lips were on your shoulder, and then his face was tucked against your neck as he whined softly, chest heaving against your back. You felt almost too full as his hips met your ass. "Am I hurting you?"
When you wiggled in response, Bradley's nose dug into the side of your neck, a string of expletives flowing from his lips. "It feels almost good," you promised. "Like I couldn't be more full."
"If I move, I'll cum," he groaned. "But I really, really fucking want to move."
You rolled your hips against him, and it didn't hurt, but now his forearms were shaking, and his knuckles were white, and you knew how hard he was trying to keep himself still. "You can thrust slowly."
He did. He gave you three long, languid thrusts where you felt every bit of him, and then you knew by the sounds he was making that he was almost there. One more wiggle from you, and he was up on his knees with his hands gripping your hips, filling your ass with his cum.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he crooned, withdrawing himself inch by inch until you heard him say, "that's so goddamn pretty." His fingers were smoothing along your pussy up to where you could feel the mess he made on your skin. "What a perfect ass."
Then he was a fatigued mess, sprawled out on his back on the bed, pulling you closer to him. "Happy birthday," you whispered, and he looked up at you with pink cheeks and wide eyes.
"I am so spoiled by my wife."
"You are, Roo. It's insane."
---------------------------------
After a quick trip to the nursery to change Rose into a sleeper, Bradley coaxed you into the shower with him where he took the time to clean both of you up. "It's almost midnight, Daddy. Did you enjoy your day?"
"You know I did. It was absolutely perfect."
"There's cake for you in the kitchen."
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you still talking about your ass, or..."
"Actual cake," you told him with a laugh. "I baked it the other day and then hid it." He honestly didn't know how he deserved to be treated this well, but he always tried his best to do the same for you. He was too in love not to.
You definitely seemed to be less self conscious now as he ran his hand down your belly before using it to give you a soft smack on the ass. "I would love to have any and all of your various types of cake." He leaned down to kiss the tops of your breasts. "Rosie will probably wake up soon wanting to eat. That's literally the only thing holding me back from going to town on these bad boys."
Your laughter filled the room. "I think you've just about reached your treat limit for the day. But the cake in the kitchen is lemon."
"My favorite," he whispered, kissing your lips. "You're the best."
Once you were both towel dried and dressed for bed, Bradley scooped you up and carried you into the kitchen. "A year ago, I was fucking a baby into you."
"You fucked a baby into me, and you fucked up my car beyond repair. That was a big night for you, Bradley." When he set you down on the counter, you yelped.
"What?" he asked as you cling onto him instead.
"My asshole is sore," you whispered, eyes wide.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
You smiled which made him smile. "I just wasn't expecting it," you said with a laugh as you slid down his body until you were standing. "It's not terrible. Kind of a nice reminder of your birthday present." You reached for the lemon cake which had apparently been hiding with the pots and pans for days when you gasped. "I forgot! I got you another present."
Bradley watched you run into the spare room at the bottom of the stairs, and a moment later, you returned with a gift wrapped in red paper with a silver bow on it.
"Before you open it, please remember that you did ask for this."
Curiosity got the best of him. The day was already too good to be true, but when he tore into the paper, he knew what it was almost immediately. "Another sexy calendar," he moaned, and then his eyes bugged out. "A pregnant, sexy calendar."
"That's what you wanted," you repeated when he looked at you. "I had the photographer take them before you met me at the beach for maternity photos."
He absolutely did remember asking for it, but he couldn't believe you actually did it for him. January was a photo of you in your red bikini, pregnant with Rosie, hand resting on your belly. February was you wearing some kind of flowy dress that left nothing to the imagination. March was you in your unbuttoned jean shorts with your hands over your breasts, adorable bump front and center. April had you in a top with your tits practically spilling out of it.
"Incredible," he murmured, mesmerized by May where you were playing in the water in a wet, white tee shirt.
"You like it?" you asked as you sliced up some birthday cake.
"It's fantastic," he groaned when he got to June. It was a close up of your face and tits in that same wet shirt. "Holy hell." You were holding out a forkful of cake to him. "Are you going to make me a sexy calendar every year for my birthday?" he asked before taking the bite which melted on his tongue.
"Only if you're very well behaved. Those things require me to muster up every fiber of my courage, and I swear the photographer works some sort of magic to make me look so good."
"You always look that good, Sweetheart. If you check the photo gallery in my phone, you look just as hot in every photo in there as you do in the calendar pictures. You look that good right now. And you looked that good at the hot sauce restaurant. And you looked that good with my cock in your ass an hour ago."
Once again, he had you preening before him as you fed him more cake. "If you insist, Roo."
"I insist. I look at you more than anyone else does. I've got to be some sort of expert." He took another bite from the fork. "This is incredible. Thank you for everything today." He propped his new calendar up against the backsplash, open to June.
"Just make sure you put that away before my parents get here on Sunday," you said, tossing the fork into the sink and wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Right," he replied. You had him so excited about Father's Day and his birthday, he almost forgot they were flying in. "I'll put it out with all my workout gear tomorrow," he promised. "And you better start packing for La Jolla."
"I'll just throw some stuff in a bag before we leave on Thursday," you told him with a shrug.
"But I want you to make sure you pack all of your sexiest outfits. You always look good no matter what, but I love peeling that stuff off you."
You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "Okay." He could tell you were smiling just as Rose started crying.
"Midnight. On the dot," Bradley groaned, leading you backwards through the kitchen. "That kid is punctual."
You leaned up and kissed him, "I love you, birthday boy."
"I love you, too," he said over the sound of his daughter wailing to be fed. His past three birthdays were each more exciting than the last. He had no idea what else could be in store for him, but he wanted all of it.
---------------------------
On Sunday, you sat down very gingerly to enjoy brunch with Maria and Cam. You were still sore from Friday, and then last night, Bradley spanked you for being sassy. It wasn't entirely your fault you accidentally called him Daddy while you were FaceTiming your parents. He was using his commanding voice, going over the schedule for the upcoming week. You didn't think your parents even heard you say it, but you happily accepted your 'punishment' in the form of Bradley's hand on your ass and his cock in your pussy as soon as the call was over.
"Your parents are coming out today?" Cam asked, snapping your attention back to the last bit of your avocado toast and mimosa.
"Yeah. They're staying with Rose for a few nights while Bradley and I drive up to La Jolla. I won't be at work on Thursday."
"Bob and I are going away for Independence Day, too," Maria said dreamily. "He's taking me to Santa Barbara."
"Fuck you both," Cam grumbled, biting into some cinnamon toast. He chewed obnoxiously as he said, "I wish I had a hot aviator. I'll just be at home alone, watching Marvel shows and trying to feel something."
"I'll send you a postcard," you told him, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.
"How's Rose?" Maria asked, ignoring Cam's comments completely.
"Adorable," you sighed. "You'll get to see her when Bradley picks me up to head to the airport."
No sooner did you mention your husband and daughter, and then they appeared.
"Hey," Bradley greeted your friends, leaning down to kiss you with Rose in his arms. He was wearing his aviators low on his nose, and he looked so good.
"Hi," Cam mumbled, and you could tell how badly he wanted to call your husband Lieutenant Commander Mustache. Maria on the other hand popped out of her seat to get to the baby.
"She got big," she said, scooping her out of Bradley's arms. "Such a big girl now."
Bradley eyed you over his sunglasses, and his smirk reminded you of last night. "We need to leave soon. They land in less than an hour."
"It's my turn to pay anyway," you said, digging in your wallet for some cash before Bradley handed you his credit card.
"I really hate you at times," Cam murmured, and you had to stifle your laughter.
"I only have love in my heart for you."
He rolled his eyes, but both of you were stifling your laughter now as Maria continued to bounce around with Rose. Eventually you signed the slip and handed it back to Bradley along with his credit card. "I'll see you both at work tomorrow," you promised, picking up your bag as Bradley took Rose back from Maria.
When you walked out of the restaurant, you saw several heads turn in your direction as women stared. "Everyone is looking at the DILF," you whispered.
"Where?" Bradley asked in confusion, looking around with his brow furrowed.
"I'm referring to you," you replied with a laugh as you walked out toward the red Bronco. He rolled his eyes but put a firm hand on your waist.
"Hang on. I want to buckle you in after I put her in her car seat."
So you waited until he was ready before climbing in the passenger seat, and then he pulled the seatbelt across your body before giving you a kiss. "Thanks, Roo."
He kissed your lips and the tip of your nose. "Let's get to the airport. Last time, their flight was early."
It was smooth sailing down the highway, and Rose was asleep by the time the Bronco was parked in the garage where she was conceived. Of course Bradley made a comment about it as he very carefully scooped her up again.
"Do you want to use the stroller?" you asked, but he immediately shook his head.
"I like carrying her like this."
"I know you do," you said, heart melting as you watched him kiss the top of her head. "I just thought I'd ask."
He carried her with both hands, and you tucked your arm around his waist as you headed inside and looked for their baggage carousel number. "This way," he rasped, and you followed him to the far end of the area. You snuggled in against him while you waited, and Bradley kissed the top of your head this time. "I cannot wait to get you in that fancy hotel room and have you all to myself."
You tilted your face up toward his and kissed the corner of his mustache. "Just so you know, my asshole still hurts."
"Fuck, Baby Girl," he grunted. "You always do this to me. You always say or do something to get me all stirred up right before your parents arrive."
You were about to tell him you had no idea what he was talking about, but you heard your mom calling your name. And when you turned, she was rushing toward you with your dad in her wake. "There they are! Oh, and look how sweet Rose looks!"
Bradley glared down at you, and you bit your lip and smiled up at him. "I'll make it up to you in La Jolla."
------------------------------
Happy birthday, DILF Roo. If you have an idea for something BG can do in La Jolla to "make it up to him", I would love to hear it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 25
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bad days— lamine yamal [ l.y ]
you drew stars around my scars [cardigan– taylor swift]
pairing: lamine yamal x fem!reader
summary: after being subbed off during a match, lamine needs nothing more than to go home and lay in your arms
genre(s): fluff and comfort
[w.c: 1k] masterlist
notes: hiiii <33 how's everyone doing?? I'm sorry that I've been gone, I just started writing my finals so I've been a little pit of touch! and probably will be for a few weeks... but it's okay!!
lamine’s eyebrows knitted together in minor shock and confusion at the touchline. the substitution board was up— his number 19 clearly displayed in red to indicate that he was coming off. at the 66th minute.
there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he trudged off the pitch, his head hung low as he took his ansu’s hand since he was coming on in his place. he made sure to send his coach a blank glance before taking his spot on the bench with hector.
it wasn't long before he tossed his water bottle at the cooler in front of him. a frustrated groan left his lips, startling hector beside him who watched with sympathy as his friend sat with his hands covering his face.
with a lopsided smile, his friend lightly tapped his knee in reassurance, but that didn't simmer down the boy's bubbling negativity and hurt.
“I just need this match to end so that I can go home,” he said softly, more to himself as a reminder to pull through the next 30 minutes and sunk deeper into his seat.
as he trudged towards his house, his shoes scraped against the pavement, a rhythmic reminder of his disappointment. the city lights blurred together, a kaleidoscope of anger and frustration.
he burst through the door to his empty home, a sigh leaving his lips as he remembered that his parents were gone for the weekend. but the passage light was on, the same for upstairs which meant that someone was home.
lamine's heart pounded, a painful sting in his eyes but he hurriedly discarded his jacket and shoes to head upstairs. as he reached the top of the staircase, he heard the faint sound of laughter coming from his bedroom.
he opened the door hesitantly, but his tension dissipated immediately at the sight of you lounging casually with your laptop in front of you, your cellphone in your other hand. you were dressed in your sleepwear, indicating that you were staying the evening.
“hey, champ,” you said with a smile and discarded your phone to the side. “tough game?”
lamine's gaze lingered on yours, frustration melting at your gentle tone. “I got subbed off. again,” he replied, his voice softer than before.
your face lit up with empathy at your boyfriend's reply. this wasn't the first time that he came home upset about getting subbed off, he was even worse when they decided to rest him for a match. he went on about how there was no reason to, and that he was fine but you knew better than that.
you spread your arms and without saying anything lamine happily came to lay in between your legs, his head resting on your chest as you placed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“talk to me.”
as lamine settled into the warmth of your embrace, his tension began to unravel, thread by thread. your gentle kiss on his forehead sparked a sense of calm, like a soothing balm spreading through his frazzled nerves.
“flick says that I need rest,” he muttered, his voice vibrating against your chest. “but I'm fine. I can keep going.”
your fingers danced through his hair, a reassuring touch. “you're not a machine, lamine. you need time to breathe, and if taking you off with 30 minutes left is the solution that so be it.”
lamine's eyes drifted shut, his breathing slowing as he absorbed your words. he knew you were right, but the frustration still simmered, a stubborn flame refusing to be extinguished.
you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you possibly could. “you're important to the team, we know this. but you're young, and they can't risk losing you. it happens too often.”
his face contorted at the remembrance of pablo, ansu and balde who were out for an entire season, their form slowly returning after their traumatic injuries. but he couldn't help it. he needed to be on that pitch for 90 minutes. he wanted to do everything that he could to help his club succeed.
“I hate feeling like I'm letting everyone down.”
your grip tightened. “you're not letting anyone down, baby. you're taking care of yourself and that takes strength.”
as your words seeped into his mind, lamine felt the weight of his emotions shift. his anger and frustration began to give way to a deeper sadness. a feeling of hopelessness and self doubt.
“I just feel like I'm losing my edge,” he whispered, his voice cracking. his grip around your waist tightened and you took it as a sign to attempt to brighten the mood a little.
you mocked a gasp with a small smile. “what? lamine yamal losing his edge?” your nose scrunched. “impossible.”
your boyfriend’s face contorted in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. “shut up,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of laughter. “you're not helping.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “oh, I'm not?” you poked his side with your index finger and he squirmed a bit. “just know that when you're with me your edge is quite literally non-existent.”
lamine's face turned bright red and he tried to look away to try and hide his smile. “you're enjoying this aren't you?”
you nodded enthusiastically. “I mean it's not everyday that I get to see you this vulnerable right? I'm witnessing history.”
his eyes sparkled eyes sparkled with amusement, and he pulled you closer, flipping you onto your side so that you were looking at him from your side— his face inches from yours. “you're going to pay for this,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he placed a kiss on your temple.
you playfully gasped, your heart pounding in your eyes. “I'm terrified. shaking in my boots actually,” you giggled, squirming out of his hold but he managed to pull you closer.
for a moment the room went silent, lamine's fingers gently tracing underneath your shirt. “I'm sorry for coming home in a bad mood.”
your heart swelled at his apology, saying nothing more and just pulling him closer as a reminder that it wasn't an issue. “it's okay, baby. I've got you.”
lamine's eyes, usually bright and bold, were vulnerable, like a window open to his soul. you could see the pain and doubt lingering in the depths, but also a spark of hope that flickered ever so lightly with every beat of his heart with yours.
you felt like you were drowning in his gaze, but in a good way, like you were floating on a sea of emotions, with lamine as your anchor. the air was thick with tension, but not the kind that made you uncomfortable. it was the kind that made you feel alive, like every cell in your body was vibrating.
his face was inches from yours, his breath whispering against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a rhythmic beat that echoed your own.
and then, like a whisper of reality, lamine's lips brushed against your ear. “I love you.”
your heart skipped a beat and you smiled, your voice barely audible. “I love you too.”
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Beg You to Love Me
"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.
"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.
The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"
Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."
"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."
Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.
He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"
"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"
Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"
"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.
"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-
"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."
"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"
"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"
"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"
"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"
"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"
"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"
"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"
"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"
"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.
"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.
Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"
"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"
Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"
Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."
Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.
"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.
Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"
Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.
"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."
Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"
Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.
He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.
He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.
He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"
He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."
"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.
"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."
Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."
"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.
Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."
"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.
Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."
They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.
Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"
"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."
The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.
A goddamn miracle.
Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.
They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.
They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.
But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
#steddie#my fic#this is just Miscommunication The Fic#hurt/comfort#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie#shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk#and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket
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Reign Down on Me - Part 11
Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes
A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with me 💕
-🐺-
“So, Pup, now that we’re acquainted I want to start the session by doing a quick check in to see how you’re feeling. For the first few visits with my clients, I usually like to provide a sheet just to help you express yourself properly. So I’m gonna give you this and then once you’ve made your selections we can talk about them and I can answer any questions you have. Don’t be afraid to pick as many as you need to!”
You stared dead eyed at Dr. Beale, already plotting a bloody murder attempt on Price; one befitting of the betrayal that you felt by being subjected to a therapist with all her gentle tones and well meaning smiles. She appeared nice enough, dark coils of hair twisted into a bun, a bright watercolour patterned dress, a small pair of black rimmed glasses; she could’ve passed for a school teacher honestly.
You decided you wouldn’t be fooled by her outward appearance though, plenty of people could put on a good front afterall. She was probably going to play mind tricks on you. That’s what everyone said about therapists, right? She was going to find out about the things you resolved to tell no one about…
Besides, It wasn’t fair! Surely everyone in the team had their shit to deal with. Why were they allowed to romp around and continue with normal training while you’d been dumped into the quacks office? An office beckoning secrets to march out in the dreary reality of it all.
The room itself was painted a now worn yellow with a bobbly carpet across the expanse of it that looked like it was about to match the walls with just a little more foot traffic. Despite that, Dr.Beale had clearly tried to make her best effort to cheer the place up. A string of fairy lights glowed behind her across the wall, illuminating the colourful art that was pinned up all over the place. She’d stuffed a few pot plants by the one window that did its best to shine a little light into the room, and from your puffy old armchair, you could just see a ‘plant mother’ mug sat at her desk to the left of her.
Plants and fairy lights or not, you still felt like you were in hell. Waiting to be condescended to, waiting to be told what your feelings are and how to deal with them as if you hadn’t been managing yourself your whole life. Not to mention be shaken down for that one thing you said you purposefully wouldn’t discuss with her.
“Here you go! Circle the ones you think fit best right now.”
Dr. Beale finished shuffling through the papers in her hands and reached over to give you the floppy laminated sheet she selected. After that you were handed a whiteboard marker and given an expectant smile.
You sighed and looked down at the assignment, almost groaning out loud when you saw what was on it. A few rows of cartoon faces greeted you and underneath each was an emotion. At the top of the sheet was a big thick fonted title that read ‘today I feel…’
Today I feel like I’m gonna puke up breakfast, you thought.
For a moment you considered walking out and begging Price to give you one more chance, to drop the whole therapy thing. However once you remembered back to Ghost dropping you off, you let your ears sag against your head and dismissed the idea. The last thing you needed was Ghost marching into the room and getting in the middle of it all.
Besides everyone had their work cut out for them. That’s what you told yourself. Soap and Gaz had to train, Ghost was at a meeting about the parade and Price was busy fuming over dead end leads and uncooperative guests.
With that in mind you circled the orange grumpy face that said annoyed, the grey neutral face and at the last minute, also circled the light blue embarrassed face. After your selections were made you handed the sheet back to Dr.Beale and watched as she studied it. Of course when she looked back up at you she greeted you with that same neutral little smile.
“Ok, thank you so much for sharing that with me. Now why don’t we talk about this a little. Would you like to tell me why you’re annoyed?”
You bit your lip, undecided if you’d be honest or if you’d try to brush her off. Once you looked into her steely eyes though, you knew she didn’t look like a woman that was going to be easily fooled. Besides, over the time you’d been with him, Ghost had hammered the need to be honest into you till you felt sore at the idea of deflecting anymore. Well, deflecting about most things anyway.
“I don’t think I need therapy,” you shrugged. “I could be doing something worthwhile right now, training with my team, or helping Ghost, even the gym seems more productive. No one’s ever stopped to talk about my emotions before and I don’t get what use that’s gonna be now. It’s not like any of the others have to take time out to talk about their feelings, why should I be any different?”
“I see,” she nodded. “And is that why you’re embarrassed? You think that being away from your team and talking with me is something to feel ashamed of?”
You nodded.
“Well, I can see why you feel that way, it’s valid from your perspective, but i think it’s worthwhile remembering that your team have different needs than you.”
“What, you think all hybrids need therapy?” You frowned.
She laughed a little at that and shook her head. The silence of her pause rang out, prompting you to look away from her and focus on a leaf on one of the plants. You watched it bounce and sway with the slight draft that swept in through the window.
“I meant that as an individual we have different needs, is all,” she finally said. “We all struggle with different issues, need a little help with things now and then. Can you think of a reason why your captain signed you up for your sessions with me? Is there something you need to work through that you need help with?”
“I uh…” you paused this time, recognising that her tone conveyed that she knew exactly what you were supposed to say, Price had already told her of course. “I…black out sometimes when I’m put to work. I give into my instincts and I stop- stop being myself.”
She nodded, giving you space to add anything else with a gentle smile. It unnerved you. Never in your long career had you ever been given the space to sit and tell someone all your problems before, and only in that moment did you realise how much you could actually talk about if you let the dam break.
Everything rushed through your head at once, the pressure bursting through your skull and reverberating across your clenched teeth. Your parents leaving you, Maddox torturing you, moments where you had no one to talk to, no one to comfort you, getting practically thrown out of helicopters and Jeeps and sent into the line of fire, sweating for hours in hot climates and assisting aid workers till you passed out, shivering and breathing out fading pillars of steam in the Norwegian mountains because your clothing was in such poor condition, starving in the kennels, begging for medical attention-
“Are you alright? Would you like a cup of tea or some water or something?”
You blinked over at Dr. Beale. Suddenly you were back in your body and you realised you’d been clenching the arms of your chair so hard that your claws had stuck themselves into the puffy lining.
You apologised and asked for some tea in as even a tone as you could muster.
“When Price reached out, he told me about the instinct driven black outs- said Ghost had been managing you mostly, but that in a recent mission you wouldn’t listen and you almost died,” Dr. Beale said, standing by the kettle you hadn’t spotted before as it rumbled to life. “He also said, despite the blackouts, you’d been enjoying your time with your new team, said your relationship with Ghost was solid. Is that how you feel?”
“Yeah.”
“Care to share more on any of that?”
You had to take a second to process what you were going to tell her. Words weren't flooding to you in those moments. Your mind was still busy turning different possibilities over, sifting through possible outcomes of telling her or not telling her certain things. Was Beale to be trusted, would she actually help you? Why would Price make you speak to someone who wasn’t being genuine in their intention to help? But then how well did he know this doctor?
“I dunno, the 141 have been nice to me. They all look after me and I like that I get to feel…like a part of something.”
“That’s great! It’s important to have bonds like that in your line of work. It’s hard when you’re a hybrid though, huh?”
“Mmhm, I didn’t think I’d ever have a handler,” you shrugged. “I’m lucky to have gotten Ghost though. He’s been…really nice to me.”
She stirred the tea bag around in the mug a second, the tinkling sound of the metal against ceramic causing your ears to flick. After quickly asking if you wanted milk and sugar, you were soon handed the warm mug, giving your hands something to clench onto. The steam gave you a sense of clarity, reminded you to breathe more.
“What kinds of nice things does Ghost do then?”
-🐺-
“Get your coat on, we’re heading out.”
You looked up from the colourful pages of your graphic novel and huffed out a sigh as Ghost passed by your room. The day after getting back from Mexico you had been looking forward to catching up on your reading and doing nothing for most of the day. Apparently Ghost had other plans though.
He was already at the door getting his boots on when you emerged, your ears drawn back and mouth set in a firm line. Your fingers curled into the warmth of your jacket sleeves, waiting on Ghost moving out the way so that you could get your own shoes on. The hall was cold since the heating hadn’t been on and the smell of the recent rain fall had managed to permeate around the door all the while. You liked that smell, didn’t mind that Ghost took a few extra seconds.
“Where we going?” You asked, only speaking once you started to do up your laces.
“Out.”
“Why?” You tried again, smiling when you saw his own barely concealed grin in the crinkles of his eyes.
“Because I found somethin’ you’d like.”
“And what is it I like?” You pressed, ears standing fully to attention now.
“Asking too many bloody questions apparently, fuck me,” he chuckled.
He ruffled your hair and was rewarded with a growl for his effort. He didn’t back down though. You playfully went to chomp on the edge of his palm, trying to discourage him from messing up your appearance right before going, but he drew his hand back in time before your teeth could connect. Your fangs biting into air.
“Naughty.”
“You started it,” you said with a smirk.
“And I’ll put an end to it too. Anymore tryin’ to bite me and I’ll bite ya back.”
You folded your ears back in fake alarm, but of course Ghost knew exactly what you were doing and laughed you off. After ordering you to get your boots on it didn’t take long before you were out the door and following him into the car. The destination was still a mystery and Ghost remained stalwart in refusing any clues. It was to be an off base trip, that much was obvious, but to where?
Once Ghost got driving the scenery flashed by like a rolling screen, the barracks houses soon fading to country lanes and then springing back up to houses, then blocks of flats, the familiar route to the city splashing out ahead of you. All the way through the roads, classical music played softly in the background, the dramatic violins willing the road to pass under the wheels faster and faster while the road roared above it all. You liked car rides with Ghost, appreciated that you got to sit in his quiet company while he concentrated on the drive.
After about a half hour, once day had quickly faded into night like a blinking eye, the car rolled up and up until eventually coming to a stop in a tall parking structure. When you got out of the car, the chill of the air bit your cheeks and beckoned you to come closer into its winds. You peeked over the edge of the barrier, staring down over the solid fencing at the city below with a cautious head tilt. You thought of the many vantage points you’d waited at throughout your life and couldn’t help but wait to be told to track a target.
“C’mon, Pup. This way.”
Ghost pulled up his neck gaiter, newly ordered for the parade, and marched off toward the doorway. He knew you’d follow. Both of you milling past cars and toward the doors of the shopping centre beyond. Through the frosted glass you could already see the beginning glow of the lights beyond, smell the scattered scents of different shops teas and perfumes and chocolates among the mingling aromas.
“Gonna take me on another shopping spree?” You enquired.
“Oh yeah, gonna make sure we get you kitted out. Get you all the clothes you’ve been begging me for,” he deadpanned. “Little fashionista.”
His flat voice gave nothing away. Only the crinkle of his eyes indicated to you that he wasn’t serious. It was hard to resist playing along with the bit however.
“You think I’ll finally get that cowboy hat I always wanted?”
“Mm,” he grunted thoughtfully. “Get you the boots to match too.”
“And a whip?”
“Now that’ll do, I’ve only got so much budget.”
Finally you both entered through the double doors, Ghost holding the door open for you and letting you walk into the warmth first. The twinkling lights were easy to see now, all brightly sparkling amongst the banners that rolled down from the ceiling, all advertising great deals to be had and fun places to go to. A couple of the banners even seemed to show a few hybrids. You stood for a second to to take them in, still surprised that hybrids were shown on advertisements now, blinking up for a few moments before you followed Ghost again.
“So where are we actually going?” You huffed, finally falling in line with his huge steps.
“You’ll see soon,” he laughed.
He waved you off with his hand when you tried to whine at him. It didn’t matter what you threw his way, he was quite content to swat you off like a fly. At one point he started digging his hand into your neck just to make you laugh and distract you from asking any more questions.
After some amount of shoving from each of you, you soon ended up in front of a bookstore. It was one of the chains you were used to going to, the fuzzy purple carpet the same as all the others, the tall stacks of colourful shelves gleaming with promise of adventure, romance and cartoon ass kickings.
“You were being all secretive about going to the bookshop, why exactly?” You asked, cocking an ear back in confusion.
Not that you weren’t grateful. However you’d gone to the book shop before with him, it was hardly worthy of being a secret. Ghost was cryptic as ever though. He merely shrugged his shoulders and lead the way inside, already beelining for the graphic novels without any input from you. You followed after him with a shake of your head after.
With the next three books in your favourite series secured, plus another novel ‘without bloody pictures in it’ at Ghost’s insistence, he took you out of the shop and lead you up to the food court afterwards. The ‘adventure’ wasn’t at an end yet. You stood on the escalator and looked out at the people walking around - all to absorbed with themselves to worry about you, you’d now learned. It wasn’t a very busy night either, as stairs flattened at the top, it was revealed the food court was much the same as the rest of the place.
“What do you want then?” He asked, stopping at a pillar and letting you survey the floor while he leaned his back against it.
All the usual offerings filled the place, random Chinese, Italian, and sandwich shops, chains dotted in between them, and of course some random desert stalls. The smells invaded your senses, most tempting you to choose them, until one particular one won out. Pizza.
“I’ll not bother asking what you want on it,” Ghost snorted.
You’d protest if you didn’t know your own predictability. Besides there were more important things at stake than a wrong order. Once you were situated behind a young couple, you couldn’t help diving into your bag of books and pulling out your new book. It’d been a while since you’d read something with full sentences, the graphic novels were too addictive and easy to read after a long day, but this story seemed interesting at least.
“You’re a nonsense, you are.”
“What? You’re the one that was encouraging me to get the thing and now I can’t read it?”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t read it. Most people just wait till they’re sat down to read.”
“I’m not most people,” you shrugged, shooting him a sly smile and a flick of the ears.
He didn’t protest that. In true Ghost fashion, he nodded and made some gruff comment about you being a ‘harmless weirdo’ at least. Which, of course, you wouldn’t let stand. Harmless? It would be an insult to let him call you harmless when he knew exactly what you could do. You gave him a flash of your teeth, but were quickly disarmed when he squeezed the funny spot between your neck and shoulder again.
“Stop doing that!” you whined, slapping his arm.
“But it’s funny,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And you like it when I tease ya.”
“Do not.”
“Yeah you do. Your tail’s wagging.”
“That’s an annoyed wag actually. There’s a big difference,” you said, ensuring you weren’t looking anywhere near his eyes.
If you had made eye contact you would’ve been afraid that Ghost would figure out you just liked it any time he touched you - no matter if it was teasing or not. After so long a time spent isolated and shoved away in kennels or bunks, every casual gesture felt like another drop in the cup that had been empty for so long. Now it felt like that cup was filling up more and more by the day, and you weren’t sure that there was an end, but knew that the bottom was just a bad memory now.
The people ahead of you in the line stood off to the side a moment after, and soon you were snapped out of your thoughts and watching the Lieutenant. Ghost parted from you to get the pizzas and pay, quickly reeling off the order and tapping his card on the machine. He motioned his head for you to follow him to the next nearest pillar. His back once again easing against the solid surface.
“You’re getting better at making shit up. Must be all that reading you’re doing,” Ghost noted, forcing you to remember what you’d just been talking about. “Or too much time with Gaz, cheeky bastard.”
He pulled you into him and mussed your hair, paying special attention to your ears. You whined but it didn’t matter. His knuckles relentlessly went on and built static between his skin and your hair and fur. Even without a mirror you knew that you were going to look a mess. You grabbed onto his hand and tried to separate yourself from the big lump holding you down, but it was no use.
“You’re not funny,” you huffed.
“Now that’s a lie,” Ghost laughed, finally letting you go. “Tails still waggin’ an’ all.”
“What my tail does isn’t any of your business,” you said petulantly.
“Everything you do is my business, Pup.”
“Oh yeah? Why that?”
“Cause you’re mine,” he said, a smile in his eyes while he smoothed the back of his hand across your jaw.
In that moment, you couldn’t be more glad that he was called to go pick up the pizza, otherwise he might’ve caught the way your pupils expanded like a playful cat’s and the obnoxious speed of your tail. With a gulp and ‘get yourself together’, you walked toward a nearby table and waited for him to bring the food. There was no way you could muster looking toward him without crumbling into an overexcited bundle of nerves.
“Excuse me,” called a small voice, capturing your attention.
You tilted your head and turned, soon finding the source of the sound. A small boy that had somehow materialised next to you on the bench that you’d chosen, his ears folded back and tail in his hand. At first you wondered where his parents were, worrying about what could happen to a hybrid child that found themselves missing, but then you remembered he’d tried to get your attention.
“Are you ok? Do you need help?” You asked, still glancing around for a parent or some other family member who he might belong to.
“No, no I’m fine,” he said, releasing his tail and sitting up tall on his knees. “I wanted to ask you something.”
You tilted your head again and looked him up and down. He was maybe seven or eight, quite tall even while on his knees on the bench, but he was all lanky and fluffy with his small age still. You weren’t much older than him when you’d been sent off to Branhaven. Had you looked so fragile and sweet once?
“What is it?” you finally asked, trying to forget about your own thoughts for the moment.
“Are you a soldier?” he asked, pointing to the collar at your neck.
“I am,” you confirmed, a smile forming. “Why do you wanna know?”
“My daddy’s a soldier,” the boy shrugged, “he has a collar like that, but he only wears it when he has to work. Are you working?”
Now you could only frown. His father was a hybrid? And a soldier? It raised a few different questions for you, namely how could he have had a child with the lifestyle he led, and furthermore how could he be present when he’d be bound to a handler. Had you felt it appropriate, you would’ve thrown a thousand questions at the boy, but instead you answered him.
“I’m not working,” you said. “I just don’t like taking it off.”
“Why?”
“I feel like I’m naked without it,” you shrugged.
The boy giggled at your answer, his bushy black tail wagging with delight. He was thoroughly impressed until Ghost walked over, sticking your pizza down and giving you a questioning look. Then the boy cocked his head, unsure of what to do.
“Did you multiply while I wasn’t looking?” he asked, eyes crinkling.
The boy smiled again and wagged his tail, clearly sensing that Ghost must be safe. When you’d first met him it had taken a while to convince you of that, but then you supposed in his civvy clothes there was more of a softness about him.
“Uh, kinda,” you said sheepishly, again wondering about where the kid’s parents were. “He was asking about my collar. Saying his dad is a hybrid soldier like me.”
“That right?” Ghost asked, taking the chair out across from you both. “What’s your name then?”
“I’m Ben Killroy,” the boy said proudly, puffing his chest up. “And I’m gonna be a soldier just like my dad and your hybrid.”
That made your stomach drop. A weight settling somewhere deep in your bones at the very idea of being driven down and delivered off into the same life you were. How long until that little smile washed off his face? A whole day or maybe just a few hours?
“That so? And your dad wants that for you does he?” Ghost asked.
“Well no,” he huffed, his ears folding back in annoyance. “Him and mum told me I’m not allowed to go, they keep saying I have to keep going to stupid school and get an education. Except they can’t tell me what to do once I’m eighteen, so then I can join!”
“School isn’t stupid, you’ll have a lot more fun there than the army,” you said sternly, firmly agreeing with his parents.
“Ugh, you’re just like my parents,” he groaned, throwing his hands up. “School is crap! You have to sit in a room and pay attention to a stupid blackboard and you only get like… forty minutes outside. Plus there’s bullies that pull your tail and call you big ears in my school. If I went to a hybrid training program then no one would bully me for my tail or ears because everyone would have them! Except my dad says that’s not true and you do get bullied, but then when i ask him to prove it, he doesn’t tell me how its not true! That means he must be lying.”
At that you couldn’t help but snort, wishing you could pat his dad on the back. How right he was. Before you could tell him just how ludicrous the idea of not getting bullied in the army was, Ghost got in before you. Leaving you simmering to yourself.
“You know in the army you have to stay inside all day sometimes, and you have to sit in meetings for hours where you’re not allowed to speak or move?” Ghost said, peering over at you. “Isn’t that right, Pup?”
You nodded at him, watching as Ben narrowed his eyes.
“Why would you have to be in meetings not speaking or moving for hours?”
“Sometimes your handler has to be in them and talk about the mission you were on. You have to be there too, just in case you have to answer questions as well, but most of the time you’re expected to sit quiet and in the same spot without fidgeting- otherwise you get punished,” Ghost explained, nodding toward you. “Pup knows all about that, don’t you?”
“One time I had sit in a ten hour long meeting, and the one time I let out a yawn I got written up for it,” you said, full to bursting with unsavoury experiences you could regale him with.
“But that’s not fair, ten hours is like…its like basically a whole day!”
“Uh huh, and after that I had to sleep outdoors all night,” you shrugged.
“You have to sleep outside? In the cold?” He asked, frowning deeper now and holding his tail again.
“Yup. That’s one of the punishments you get the most when you’re in training.”
The boy didn’t look pleased about that at all. Though before he could question it any more a tall woman in a rain coat came by and snatched him by his hand. Not a hybrid, but still she clutched at him protectively and wore a panicked look in her eyes.
“What has mummy told you about running off in public places, Ben! I went to the play area and got a shock when you weren’t there, that’s not very nice to mummy is it? ” She said sternly, ushering him to her side before addressing you and Ghost. “I’m really sorry about him. He always has to talk to every other hybrid he sees, even when he’s been told not to go wandering off.”
“Muuum,” he whined, ears glued to the side of his head. “You’re embarassing me in front of the soldiers.”
She raised her brows and looked properly at you both, eyes flickering to the collar around your neck and then over at Ghost. Knowing what you were, she seemed to tense a bit more.
“He hasn’t caused any trouble has he?” She asked, wrapping an arm around the huffing boy.
“He's fine,” Ghost said, dipping his head a little. “Was just telling us how he wanted to join up is all. We were saying that there’s no rush, school first.”
“Oh,” she said, relaxing again and smoothing a hand over her son’s head. “Yes, that’s very good advice. Do you hear that, Ben? School first!”
“But dad didn’t have to go to school,” Ben grumbled.
“Well that’s because he didn’t get a choice, did he? C’mon, we’ve been enough of a distraction to these nice people. Let’s get you home, you little rascal,” she said sternly, looking to you for the last time she went on to say, “thanks for looking after him. You're a good soul.”
With that she ushered the protesting boy away and left you and Ghost to your food. At first the silence lingered between you both like a chasm, both of you digging in to your pizza. You staring off into the distance after the woman, while Ghost looked on at you with a calculating gaze.
“You alright?” He finally asked.
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes when he did nothing but raise his brows at you. “I just…I dunno. His mum was scared for him. She cares about him and wants him to go to school…”
Another moment of quiet passed. You chewed thoughtfully on a bit of pizza, barely tasting it, while figuring out what to say. Truthfully you didn’t really know how to put coherent words to what you were thinking beyond, ‘it’s not fair’. The beat of that particular drum almost outweighed all other thought.
“And his dad… is like me. How does a hybrid soldier have a kid he’s raising?”
“Things have gotten a bit better the last few years. If you met someone and had a kid with them, you’d be given time off and be allowed to stay with them outside your work hours,” Ghost shrugged. “Did you not know that?”
“No… I suppose that never really applied to me till now though. Nobody ever took me off base, so it’s not like I would’ve met anyone.”
Ghost reached across the table and settled his warm hand on top of yours, his roughened thumb tracing the outline of yours. Your ears perked up at that.
“Well it’s not like that anymore. You’ve got options, and people that care about you,” he murmured, his hand still caressing yours. “Just don’t go runnin’ off too quick. We’d miss ya.”
You smiled at that, a swish working its way back into your tail. The strange look Ghost wore on his face had a wave of giddiness washing over you. If you weren’t mistaken it was almost like…
“Are you jealous at the idea of me going off to live with someone else, Ghost?” You asked, tone light enough that it could pass for a joke.
He snorted at that and drew back, looking away for a second before returning his eyes to yours. His stare was just as piercing as always. Vats of molten honey.
“I told you in Mexico, I didn’t like it when you were gone. Feels wrong.”
“But you’d let me go if I asked?”
Ghost said yes. Tone clipped, shoulders hunched as he shovelled his way through another slice of pizza. He didn’t know it, but you smiled then and could hardly look at him as you thought about the possibilities that a lifetime with him could entail.
“I don’t think I could imagine living with someone else now,” you said thoughtfully. “Not even the others. Especially not Price.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Too scarred after Mexico, the snore levels that man is capable of. I think health and safety should do a decibel test on him,” you said with a grin, watching on with glee as Ghost’s smile returned.
“It’s funny you say that because Price had similar complaints about you,” he said slyly.
“No he didn’t!”
“Yes he did. Said you were squirmy and all, that you kept trying to shift yourself under his arms till he was cuddling you,” He laughed, pointing his pizza at you.
“No I didn’t, that’s a lie!” you protested, a full whine breaking out into your voice.
Ghost’s dirty laugh came into full affect then, a full body thing that had your cheeks warming with the sound. Despite feeling mortified at the idea of unconsciously making Price spoon you, the fact that you were back on track with Ghost again couldn’t help but derail your shock. It was another moment of feeling normal, feeling almost human. It had you shaking your head at him instead and finishing your pizza with a little sigh of ‘unbelievable’.
“He didn’t actually say that, but you always do that with me.”
And thus the back and forth continued, the two of you fighting good naturedly while putting the pizza boxes in the bin, then still as you walked to the unknown next location and so finally stopping when you reached the cinema. The big dark lobby encased you, the dim lights making Ghost’s eyes sparkle all the more while he still refused to tell you what the big surprise was.
Even when you reached the screen and sat in your big comfy chairs, you still couldn’t get the answer out of him, no more than a ‘wait and see’ was given. Not that it mattered to you of course. It had been many many years since you’d gone to the cinema and truth be told you were happy to watch just about anything. The smell of your popcorn filled your senses, while the low lights and quiet conversations lulled you into a relaxed state, drawing you closer and closer to Ghost’s chair next to you until you were leaning your head against the bulk of his shoulder.
“I forgot how much I loved the cinema,” you sighed. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“S’alright.”
You were quiet a few moments more, watching with rapt attention even at the adverts, noting some of the trailers in your head for later so that you could see those movies later. A comedy that made you full on snort till Ghost was giving you a funny look, and a romance film that you would never confess to Ghost to wanting to see and would find a way to watch yourself, were among the few you’d catalogued away.
Soon the lights blackened almost completely and any hushed conversations then died down. Your ears perked up when the screen went black and you tilted your head, waiting to read the title of the movie. When the screen showed, you blinked a couple times and tilted your head again. It was… the same title as the graphic novels you read. You frowned and turned to Ghost, waiting to see if your assumption was surely wrong, but the smile that inched onto his face told you otherwise.
“No way!” you whispered ecstatically.
“Surprise,” he whispered back, bumping you with his shoulder.
At that point you were sat up straight in your chair, full attention directed onto the screen as the opening music blared on and vibrant colours and shapes that seemed to have been pulled right off the pages of your books were dancing into life on the screen. Characters that you had spent hours thinking about began to appear, lines that you could remember reading and rereading were spoken and it was like magic itself was woven into the world in that moment.
Ghost’s secrecy had paid off. Perhaps it had paid off a little too well - for hours after the film you were going on and on regaleing him about similarities and differences to the graphic novels, making sure he knew that one of the characters was different but so much better, that the ending of that film would lead to the next few comics in the series, that the lore of the world was worked into the film so well while covering the 3 books that it was based off. At times he would sprinkle in some questions here and there, but mostly you hit him with your full analysis until it probably felt like to him that you had seen the movie twice together.
Once you’d gotten home and into the bathroom, delving into your nightly routine, something in your chest simply wouldn’t let you settle into your own bed. Everything in you vibrated like a spring that needed to bounce, so much so that after trying to read the same line of your book five times, you admitted to yourself that you couldn’t get back into your routine after the day you’d had. And so you did the only thing you could think to do.
Creeping into the hallway, you padded downward until you reached Ghost’s room, perking an ear up and listening for any sounds of sleep. Even with your superior hearing you couldn’t really make out much, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t already knocked out.
“Ghost,” you said, hoping your voice would pierce through the door just enough to hear. “Are you asleep yet?”
A moment passed.
“Did you have another bloody thought about that movie?” came his bleary reply.
You grinned to yourself and opened the door, revealing Ghost propped against his pillows and sitting on his phone with the dull lamp on. His hair was fluffy with static, and his eyes betrayed his tiredness. Contrary to you, he looked like he could fall back and rest the second he could.
“It’s not about the movie,” you affirmed, closing the door behind you and settling onto the foot of his bed. “I just wanted a minute.”
He grunted over at you, continuing to finish up whatever he was doing on his phone. You clutched your knees in your hands, in the meantime, looking around at all the familiar cracks in the wall and bits and pieces on the floor. It was warm that night, but even so you curled up into something small.
“Come on up then,” Ghost finally said, chucking his phone to his bedside table before lifting up the sheet. “Might as well get comfy.”
Even worming your way into his sheets felt like a hug, his scent spilling from the cotton as if you were pressed in close to him. However, you remained across from him, propping yourself up on an elbow and looking up at him like a worshipper to a god. His pale chest was revealed now that the covers had shifted, and so while you stared at him your eyes lingered there while your mind whirred, not really sure what to say.
“I wanted to thank you again for today,” you finally said, looking him in the eyes. “And I wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t think I ever would’ve been able to come up with anything like this if you’d have asked me where I’d want to be months ago and I just wanted to say that you’re amazing. I’m not sure what I did to deserve all this, or you, but I’m really glad I got to.”
He blinked syrupy slow and kept looking at you with an easy smile on his face, now turning to meet you in your sideways position. Ghost’s heat now began seeping into you, your heart rate thumping as he pulled you into his orbit. His own pulse danced in your ears and soon you were hypnotised by it, just looking his eyes while he looked into yours.
“You’re too sweet,” he murmured, reaching out and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m glad you had a nice night. Though I’m not someone that you need to worry about deserving, darlin’.”
“Yeah you are,” you said breathily, smile growing.
In a moment of impish fun, you turned your head and pretended to bite his thumb, fastening your two sets of teeth around it and letting the points of your canines graze against his skin. He raised his eyebrows and used his other hand to grab your cheeks, giving you a warning squeeze. You let him go, but his grip still remained on you.
“What’d I say about you biting me, you little shit?” he said, good humour still written on his face.
“You said you’d bite me back,” you shrugged.
“Wouldn’t want that now, would you?” he grunted.
“Maybe I do,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him again. “What then?”
He shook his head, his teeth on full show from his smile. His full face seemed to glow like white gold, the lamplight casting its rays onto him. Things moved slow then, he got closer to you, breaking the space between you until he was pushed right up against you, releasing your face finally, but still keeping you pinned with arm against your back. He watched you carefully, and you stared right back, breathing slow but expression alight.
“Feels to me like you’re after something else now,” he said as fact, you both knew it.
Even if he didn’t need a response, you nodded slowly. Your heart was pounding like a train in your ears, body rattling with stray energy now that you were in a position you’d thought of only in daydreams. For a little second of panic you wondered if this was him about to admonish you of thinking such things. Though he didn’t let you worry long.
“You sure?” he asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t explain.
“Yes,” you whispered.
He bit his lip, the scar there tightening with the action.
“Ask me.”
“What?” you frowned, shifting back and feeling his hand press into your back.
“Ask me for what you want. Go on,” he said, an indescribable look crossing his eyes.
“You want me to ask you for…” you trailed, waiting for him to interrupt, but he didn’t. “I want- for… you to kiss me.”
He chuckled at you stumbling on your words.
“You what now?”
You growled out a frustrated sigh and turned your face into his pillow.
“I want you to kiss me, alright?” you snapped, words muffled in the fabric.
At that he ushered you out of the pillow and brought his lips to yours. His mouth hot and firm against yours as every little cell in your body seemed to dance. His hands gripped your waist, making sparking little fires dance across your nerves and his body pushed into yours once again. He allowed you to come back into your body, continuing to kiss you gently, until eventually your lips moved with his and soon enough opened so that your tongues could meet.
A few seconds later and you were parting. Finally catapulting out from a stupor you soon opened your eyes and met his searching ones. Ghost breathed heavily, but then so did you and for a few seconds neither of you said anything. You simply weren’t capable. Your lips felt like they were tingling still.
“You alright?”
-🐺-
“Pup are you alright?” Dr. Beale asked, her worried expression dragging you back into the room.
Only then did you realise your chest was pounding and you accidentally squeaked, feeling as though her gaze was seeking out forbidden information. You cleared your throat, pretending that was all you were doing the whole time, and took a sip of your tea, thinking back to the last thing you’d told her.
Of course you’d regaled her about your trip out, about meeting the boy in the food court and going to your movie, however when it came to going home. You figured you’d skip that part. Instead you looked off into the room and shook your head. Your body dispelling the last paranoid nerves that told you she was psychic and knew your every thought.
“Sorry… I just had a weird dream that night was all. Anyway, basically Ghost is really nice, yeah. What else did you want to know?”
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my number one .ᐟ
Paring; art x reader
Synopsis; You'd always been your own worst enemy. Your anxiety liked to jump out at the worst times yet your ever-doting boyfriend was determined to be there every. single. time.
Even if that meant missing his match.
Requested; anon
Notes; tysm for the request <3 i kinda based this on my own anxiety and the methods I've been taught over the years
Masterlist
“I don’t wanna be annoying.”
“You're not being annoying.”
No matter how many times he says it, you never believe it. How could you not be annoying, especially when you’ve woken him up at 3 a.m. for what must be the third time this week?
Art sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. His hands rubbed over your back in soothing circles as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just follow my breathing, okay?” It was a saying so common that it seemed to fall from his lips without a thought. It was almost like a lifeline of sorts knowing that no matter what you’d always have the steady beat of his heart only a phone call away whenever your own decided to forget how to beat on time and needed reminding.
It was equally a blessing and a curse. A blessing to have someone like Art who would drop everything to come at your beacon call but a curse that you needed him in that way.
Even now when he should be preparing for another tournament - against which school you can’t remember but then again your only thought right now is being able to focus enough to breathe - he’s here with you tucked around a corner from your class as you try to calm your breathing.
The moment he’d gotten your text.
Please come
Need you
He’d left the court without a second thought and made it to the building in record time. “You’re okay.” He soothed running a thumb over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re okay just breathe. In and out.”
He hated seeing you like this. No matter how many times it happened he’d never shake that feeling of nausea that would swim in his stomach whenever your breath seemed to catch and your eyes grew distant. It made him want to just wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything and everything that left you feeling even slightly anxious.
You were his entire world and it hurt him to know you were your own worst enemy.
“C’mon.” His hand intertwined with yours as he grabbed your bag. You both walked quietly back to his dorm your heart rate slowly going back to normal as you both walked.
“Don’t you have practice?” You frowned as he placed your bag on his bed turning to watch as you shut the door. “It’s fine.” He smiled trying to reassure you as he opened his arms. “I can practice later you’re more important right now okay.” He sighed pulling you against his chest.
The practice could wait right now all he cared about was you.
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
Not now, please god not now.
Art had already been so busy the last few days that you’d purposefully tried to leave him alone. He needed to train and you didn’t want to get in the way and worry him more then he already was.
He’d only left his dorm an hour ago to get ready for the match and you’d been fine. Better then fine actually you’d had a great morning and for a moment you’d thought that maybe you’d go three full days without your anxiety rearing its ugly head.
And then it proved you wrong.
“Art I’m fine.” You could hear his concern down the phone as you sat on his bed, mentally counting your breaths to try and keep some semblance of calm. “You sure? I can come back for a-”
“No. No stay there and just relax okay? I’ll come find you before it starts.” You could almost picture the concern in his eyes as he sighed before relenting. If you said you were fine you were fine, pushing you would only make it worse.
“Okay but call me if you need okay? I love you.”
“I love you too.” You smiled slightly tracing shapes over his covers as you ended the call. The room was starting to feel too small as you sat, the air almost stuffy. Nothing had even happened and yet you could already feel the anxiety building.
The pit in your stomach swirled as your hands grew clammy no matter how many times you wiped them on your jeans.
You were fine.
You had to be fine.
Taking a breath you stood pacing the small space as you tried to halt the attack. Breathe in for 10 out for 10.
In for 10 out for 10.
“Fuck.” Your voice shook slightly as tears began to prick at your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to pull in a breath that wasn’t there.
Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for anything to help but came up empty. You couldn’t call him. You knew the minute you did he’d drop everything and you didn’t want that.
No matter how bad this was - and it was bad by your standards - his match was more important.
Wiping the tears you sat back down closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself through it.
You were fine.
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
The breath he’d been holding since you’d spoken on the phone a few hours ago seemed to finally release as he spotted you in the crowd. His eyes lit up and a bright smile pulled at his lips as he made his way through the crowd towards where you stood, your own eyes lighting up when you noticed him.
“Hey.” He grinned pulling you in for a chaste kiss. “You came.”
“Of course I did.” You laughed but it was strained. Your smile slightly too tight as you fixed the cap over his curls. “You ready?” You asked pulling back ever so slightly.
“You're shaking.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are I can see your hands.” Art sighed his smile pulling into a frown as he took your hand in his. “Your freezing as well.”
Your face was still pulled into a tight smile but he saw right through it. The slight draw in your brow and the redness around your eyes gave you away almost immediately. Before you could say anything else he was pulling you through the crowd and behind the bleachers.
You swallowed back the tears which burned at your eyes. It had taken the whole two hours since the phone call for you to calm down even an inch and even now you still felt sluggish in your own body.
“Art m’fine.” Your voice shook as you closed your eyes.
“No your not.” He shook his head pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why didn’t you call me?” You always called! It was bad enough knowing you’d walked from the dorms to the court like this but knowing you’d very possibly been like this since he’d last called you?
His own heart was racing at the thought.
“I didn’t wanna distract you.” His hand was now rubbing over your shoulder as you wiped at your eyes. “I know how much this means to you-”
“The match doesn’t matter.” He shook his head gently, tilting your chin up. Part of you already felt better just being near him, his presence a comfort in itself.
“Nothing matters more than you.” He smiled his eyes filled with warmth as his thumb flicked away a tear. “I’m not playing until I know you're okay. I can’t play knowing you're feeling like this.”
He pulled you closer rubbing a hand over your back. The match would never be more important than you - hell tennis would always come second to you. The fact the thought even crossed your mind was enough to have him debating putting the racket down and pulling you back to his dorm.
“Promise me you're still gonna play.” You whispered tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in the gentle scent of his aftershave for a moment. Your lungs seemed to work again as you pressed closer, sinking into his body.
“We’re not talking about tennis.” He murmured balancing his chin on your head. “You're all that matters.”
He meant his words, every single one of them. Sure he would play in the tournament but only once he knew you were okay, until then it was the last thing on his mind.
Tennis could never hold a torch to his love for you.
#challengers#art donaldson#challengers 2024#challengers movie#art challengers#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fic#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x y/n#art donaldson fanfiction#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson drabble#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers x y/n#challengers fanfiction#challengers fic#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#tashi duncan#.mine#.challengers#.artdonaldson
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May I have some some twisted glisten fluff please? :)
Warnings/Notes: fluff, this can be read like romantic or platonic, autophobia, it's short srry..
"Shh… It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, okay?" You retied the pink cloth around his wrists. He always wore it to keep himself from making sudden movements whenever the ichor made him "lose control" sometimes. You managed to keep it under control, so you trusted that tying the ribbon around his wrists could serve as a makeshift accessory.
He always loved to show off even the smallest thing.
A slow smile tugged at your lips as you remembered how he used to be before the ichor turned him into a bundle of nerves, filled with fears, especially a fear of loneliness. He’d grow terribly paranoid if you moved even a few inches away from him; the idea that you might leave him never left his mind.
At first, it scared you to be with him after he became what he is now, but you decided to give him a chance to control himself and not hurt you. Some toons disagreed, especially Dandy, but you made both a physical and mental effort to reassure them that you’d both be fine—that it would be like caring for a sick Glisten.
Besides, you were lucky that only on very rare occasions did other twisteds wander onto the same floor where you both stayed.
"I don’t want to be alone…"
His small, barely coherent whisper brought you back to reality, grounding you in the fact that you still held his wrists in your hands. You gently rubbed them, a faint attempt to soothe him when his fears took over.
“You’re not alone, I’m here with you. I always will be; I won’t leave your side.” You continued offering small reassurances, a smile on your face.
You could see a noticeable hesitation in his gaze, as if he were searching for the slightest hint of fear or deceit from you. You said nothing about it, simply waiting in silence for his response.
“Thanks.. It’s terrifying to be like this. I don’t want to be left alone, much less push you away because of my condition…” he said, his tone wavering, perhaps from the ichor or simply from the act of confessing something even the most prideful Glisten would never admit, especially to you.
These types of comments reminded you of how, before his corruption, Glisten rarely shared his insecurities, making moments like these surprising. He’d always been confident, never hesitating.
You gave his hands a small squeeze.
“You could never push me away, Glisten. In fact, I should be the one saying thank you, for staying by my side too.” You told him, never letting go of his hands. As cold as his touch felt, it was also comforting.
A faint, weak squeeze was returned to you.
You looked at him more closely and noticed that his eyes weren’t as red as they sometimes were. You felt relieved that the ichor hadn’t completely overtaken him and that he was strong enough, both mentally and physically, to control himself. You hoped that one day he could go back to being the toon he once was, but for now, it was your duty to care for him.
“Let’s see if we can find something we can both wear to match!” you offered, hoping to lift his spirits with something he enjoyed.
No matter how long it took for all your friends to return to how they once were, as long as you had Glisten by your side, with his mind still intact, everything would be okay.
You had each other.
#dandy's world x reader#glisten the mirror x reader#glisten x reader#dandy's world fanfic#twisted glisten x reader#dandys world x reader
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Chasing Time, Finding Us
Alexia Putellas x Reader
It felt like you were living in parallel worlds. Your work projects were relentless, stretching your days into late nights. For Alexia, football consumed her time—matches, training, and travel kept her constantly on the go. The rare moments you shared had become fleeting, filled with rushed conversations and tired smiles. Though you tried not to let it show, a quiet fear gnawed at you. Were you slowly losing each other to the demands of your busy lives?
And, though she never said it outright, you could see it in her eyes that Alexia felt it too.
Then, on a rare afternoon when she wasn’t at practice and you weren’t glued to your laptop, Alexia surprised you.
“Next Saturday,” she said, her voice firm yet tender, “you and I are taking a day for us. No work, no football, no distractions.”
You glanced at her, startled by the sudden declaration. “A whole day?”
“Yes,” she said, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m planning everything. All you have to do is show up.”
The tension in your shoulders eased at her words. You didn’t realize how much you needed this until she offered it. “You’re serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious,” she said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “We need this, cariño. I need this.”
---
The week leading up to Saturday was both a blur and a buzz of anticipation. You tried more than once to get Alexia to reveal her plans, but she was steadfast in her secrecy.
“It’s a surprise,” she’d say with an amused smirk, dodging your questions effortlessly. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
And so, you waited, your excitement building with each passing day.
Finally, Saturday arrived. Alexia picked you up early in the morning, dressed casually in a fitted white tee and light jeans that somehow made her look effortlessly stunning. She had that mischievous glint in her eye, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
“You ready?” she asked as you climbed into the car.
“For whatever you have planned? Always,” you replied, trying to sound confident, though your curiosity was eating at you.
She laughed at your thinly veiled attempts to figure out the destination, brushing off your questions with a shake of her head. “Patience, amor. You’ll see soon enough.”
---
The first stop was a quaint cafe tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place you’d never have found on your own. The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee welcomed you as you walked inside. The two of you picked a cozy corner table, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the weight of your busy lives begin to lift.
Over breakfast, you talked about everything and nothing. Alexia shared stories about her teammates that made you laugh until your stomach hurt, and you told her about your latest work project, her eyes lighting up with pride at your achievements.
“I miss this,” you admitted softly, stirring your coffee.
Alexia reached across the table, her hand covering yours. “I know. That’s why we’re here—to remember how much we mean to each other.”
Her words stayed with you as she led you back to the car, her hand never letting go of yours.
---
The next destination was the beach. As you approached the shoreline, your jaw dropped at the sight of the clear blue waves and the golden sand stretching endlessly before you. Alexia had thought of everything—her car was packed with towels, sunscreen, snacks, and even a volleyball.
“Did you bring the entire apartment?” you joked as she unloaded the supplies.
“Only the essentials,” she quipped, tossing you a bottle of water with a wink.
“You thought of everything,” you said, your voice filled with awe.
“I told you,” she replied with a wink. “I don’t do things halfway.”
The day unfolded like a dream. You played volleyball, your laughter ringing out as you both competed fiercely—though you suspected Alexia let you win a few points.
Next, you switched to football. Watching Alexia with a ball at her feet was mesmerizing—she was in her element, her movements fluid and precise. But even as she showcased her skills, she never stopped teasing you, giving you just enough room to score a goal.
“Not bad,” she said with mock seriousness when you managed to slip the ball past her.
“Not bad? That was a perfect goal!” you shot back, earning a grin from her.
---
When the sun reached its peak, you both retreated to the cool ocean waves. The water was refreshing, and it wasn’t long before you were splashing Alexia, your laughter echoing across the beach.
“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” she said, lunging toward you with a playful grin.
You tried to escape, but she was too quick, wrapping her arms around you and lifting you off your feet.
“Lex!” you squealed, laughing uncontrollably as she spun you around.
She set you down gently, her hands lingering on your waist. Her gaze softened, and in that moment, the world seemed to pause.
“I love you,” she said, her voice steady and full of emotion.
You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. “I love you too.”
---
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourselves lying on a blanket Alexia had spread out on the sand. You leaned against her, her arms securely wrapped around you.
“This is perfect,” you whispered, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
“You deserve perfect,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.
But the day wasn’t over yet. As night fell, Alexia led you to a secluded spot further down the beach. String lights twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow over a small table set with dinner. The sight left you speechless.
“When did you even set this up?” you asked, looking around in awe.
“A magician never reveals her secrets,” she said with a grin, pulling out a chair for you.
Dinner was simple but delicious, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine. Afterward, Alexia took your hand, pulling you to your feet.
“Dance with me?” she asked softly.
There was no music except the gentle sound of the waves, but it didn’t matter. You swayed together under the string lights, her arms holding you close.
“You really thought of everything,” you said, your voice tinged with awe.
“I just wanted to make you happy,” she replied, her eyes locking with yours. “We’ve been so busy, and I needed to remind you that no matter how crazy life gets, you’ll always be my priority.”
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy. You leaned up to kiss her, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into the gesture.
---
As the night wore on, you lay together under the stars, her arms wrapped securely around you. The day had been everything you needed and more—a reminder of the bond that held you together, even when life tried to pull you apart.
In the quiet of the night, with Alexia’s steady heartbeat beneath your ear, you felt a deep sense of peace. This was love, you realized—not just the grand gestures, but the quiet, unwavering commitment to making time for each other, no matter what.
And as you drifted off to sleep in her arms, you knew one thing for certain: no matter how busy life got, you and Alexia would always find your way back to each other.
#alexia putellas x reader#woso community#woso#woso fics#barca femeni#woso x reader#alexia putellas fanfic#alexia x reader
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MY CHAEBOL BULLY, IS CRAZY OVER ME
YANDERE SOHYUN X MALE READER
The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day. Students poured out of classrooms, chatting and laughing as they made their way home. Sohyun, the queen bee of the school, leaned against her locker, surrounded by her usual entourage of admirers. Her designer bag hung casually on her shoulder, a testament to her family's wealth and influence.
"Yah, new kid!" she called out, her sharp voice cutting through the chatter.
Y/n froze mid-step, his heart sinking. He had been hoping to avoid her today, but it seemed fate had other plans.
"Yes, you!" Sohyun smirked, walking toward him with a confident swagger. Her friends giggled behind her, eager to see what she had planned.
"What do you want, Sohyun?" Y/n asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Sohyun tilted her head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let's see... I just remembered how funny it was when you tripped over your own feet during gym class. What was that about, huh?"
The group burst into laughter, and Y/n clenched his fists, biting back a retort.
"You're pathetic," she sneered, flicking his forehead. "Try not to embarrass yourself tomorrow, okay?"
Satisfied, she turned and sauntered off, her laughter echoing through the hallway.
Later that evening, as Sohyun walked toward her family's sleek black car parked in an empty lot, she felt a chill run down her spine. The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, too many to belong to just one person.
"Hey, princess," a rough voice called out.
Sohyun spun around, her heart racing. A group of older boys stood behind her, their expressions leering.
"What do you want?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
"You've been flaunting that pretty little face around for too long," one of them said, stepping closer. "Thought we'd give you a reality check."
Panic gripped Sohyun as they surrounded her. She tried to scream, but one of them clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Let her go!"
The voice was unfamiliar yet firm. The group turned to see Y/n standing a few feet away, his fists clenched and determination blazing in his eyes.
"Oh, look who it is," one of the boys sneered. "The little hero."
"Leave her alone," Y/n growled, stepping closer.
"And what are you gonna do about it?"
Before Y/n could respond, one of the boys lunged at him. The fight was brutal and one-sided. Y/n swung wildly, managing to land a few hits, but he was no match for the group.
Sohyun watched in horror as they punched and kicked him, his blood staining the pavement.
"Stop it!" she screamed, but her voice was drowned out by the chaos.
The fight only ended when the sound of a police siren cut through the air. The boys scattered, leaving Y/n crumpled on the ground. Sohyun ran to his side, her heart pounding as she knelt next to him.
"Y/n?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
His face was battered, his lip split, and his breathing labored, but his eyes fluttered open. "You... okay?" he rasped.
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. "Why did you do that? Why did you risk yourself for me?"
He gave her a weak smile. "Didn't want to see you get hurt."
At the hospital, Sohyun sat beside Y/n's stretcher in the ambulance, her usual confident demeanor shattered. Her hands trembled as she reached out to his, hesitating before finally resting her fingers on his bruised knuckles.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Y/n, too weak to respond, closed his eyes.
As the siren wailed and the city lights blurred past, Sohyun found herself staring at him, her mind racing. This was the boy she had mocked, tormented, and humiliated. And yet, he had protected her without hesitation, sacrificing his own safety.
Her heart ached in a way she didn't understand. For the first time, Sohyun felt something other than contempt toward someone.
She tightened her grip on his hand, her voice shaking as she murmured, "I'll make this up to you. I swear."
The days that followed were different. Sohyun found herself replaying the moment Y/n had stepped in to save her. She remembered his bloodied face, his quiet strength, and the way he had smiled at her even in his pain.
It was maddening.
And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him. The boy she once saw as beneath her was now the center of her world.
"I'll protect you now," she whispered to herself, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Her lips curled into a smile. Y/n didn't realize it yet, but he belonged to her now.
Y/n groaned softly, the throbbing pain in his body dragging him out of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, the bright white of the hospital ceiling blinding him for a moment. Slowly, the room came into focus—the steady beeping of a heart monitor, the faint smell of antiseptic, and...
Sohyun?
He blinked again, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized her. She was slumped in a chair beside his bed, her arms crossed and her head resting against them. Her usually perfect hair was disheveled, her expression peaceful in sleep.
LWhy is she here?
Y/n shifted slightly, the movement making his sore muscles protest. The slight sound of the bedsheets rustling was enough to wake her. Sohyun stirred, blinking groggily as she lifted her head.
“Y/n?” she mumbled, her voice soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable.
He didn’t respond immediately, too stunned to say anything.
As she fully woke up, her eyes softened, and a small smile spread across her face. “You’re awake.”
Y/n nodded weakly, unsure of how to process this version of Sohyun. She seemed different—gone was the sharp, mocking edge he had grown accustomed to.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly.
“For what?” he croaked, his throat dry.
“For saving me,” she replied, her gaze dropping to her hands. “If it weren’t for you...”
She trailed off, her words hanging heavy in the air.
“I-i-it's... fine,” Y/n said hesitantly, forcing a small smile despite the lingering fear in his chest.
But Sohyun wasn’t done. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing against his bruised cheek. Y/n stiffened at her touch, his instincts screaming at him to pull away, but his body refused to move.
“You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a strange mix of regret and amusement.
He didn’t answer, his silence confirming her suspicion.
“That’s okay,” she murmured, her fingers lingering on his face. “I don’t blame you. I haven’t exactly been kind to you, have I?”
Y/n’s heart raced as her gaze locked onto his. Her usual fiery confidence had shifted into something softer, yet infinitely more dangerous.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “About what happened. About you.”
“Sohyun, I—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted gently but firmly. “That night... seeing you like that, seeing what you were willing to do for me... I realized something.”
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Y/n’s eyes widened, panic bubbling in his chest.
“I want you to be mine,” she said, her voice steady but filled with an intensity that made his stomach twist. “And there’s nothing that will stop me from making that happen.”
He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “Sohyun, you don’t mean that. You’re just—”
“Don’t,” she said sharply, cutting him off. Her fingers trailed down to his jaw, holding him in place as her eyes bored into his. “Don’t try to tell me how I feel. I know what I want, Y/n. And what I want... is *you.*”
He stared at her, his mind racing. The girl who had tormented him, humiliated him, was now confessing her feelings with an intensity that left him speechless.
“You saved me,” she continued, her voice softening again. “No one’s ever done that for me before. And now that I’ve seen what you’re willing to do for me... I can’t let you go.”
“Sohyun, this isn’t—”
“Fair?” she finished for him, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Maybe not. But I don’t care. I’ve already made up my mind.”
Her hand lingered on his face for a moment longer before she pulled back, her expression softening.
“You’ll understand eventually,” she said, her tone almost soothing. “You’ll see that this is what’s best for both of us.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against his forehead.
“Rest for now,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of everything.”
As she sat back down, her eyes never leaving him, Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He had saved Sohyun that night, but now he wondered if he had doomed himself in the process.
Y/n finally returned home after being discharged from the hospital. His body ached with every movement, but the relief of being in the safety of his own space soothed him. He dropped his bag by the door and shuffled toward his room, muttering a soft greeting to his parents before collapsing onto his bed.
But his peace didn’t last long.
The doorbell rang sharply, echoing through the house. Y/n’s parents exchanged a confused look before his father opened the door. Standing there, smiling as though she owned the place, was Sohyun.
“Good evening,” she said sweetly, bowing slightly. “I’m Sohyun. I wanted to properly introduce myself.”
Y/n’s mother appeared at the door, her eyes widening as she recognized the name. “Sohyun... You’re not the daughter of *that* chaebol family, are you?”
Sohyun smiled politely but with an edge. “Yes, my parents own the Daehan Group.”
Y/n’s parents froze. Their mouths opened, then shut, their expressions flickering between shock and forced cheerfulness.
“Oh, what an... honor,” Y/n’s father stammered. “To what do we owe this visit?”
Sohyun’s smile widened, and her voice turned honeyed yet possessive. “I’m here to let you know that Y/n and I are dating now.”
The announcement hung in the air, shocking everyone but Sohyun.
“D-d-dating?” Y/n’s mother repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“Yes,” Sohyun said firmly, stepping into the house without waiting for an invitation. “I care deeply for him, and I wanted to make sure you knew how important he is to me.”
Y/n’s parents exchanged a glance. It was clear they were unnerved, but the weight of Sohyun’s family name pressed heavily on their shoulders.
“Well,” Y/n’s father said after a tense moment. “That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, wonderful,” Y/n’s mother echoed, her smile forced. “Please, come in. Can we get you anything?”
Sohyun shook her head politely. “No, thank you. I just wanted to check on Y/n. Is he home?”
“Oh, he’s resting,” his mother said quickly, but Sohyun’s determined expression left no room for argument.
“Good,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “I’ll just check on him myself.”
---
Y/n was half-asleep when his bedroom door creaked open. He stirred slightly, his body too exhausted to react. He assumed it was his mother checking on him, so he mumbled a faint, “I’m fine.”
But then he felt a hand brush against his cheek.
His eyes fluttered open, and he froze when he saw Sohyun leaning over him, her face mere inches from his.
“S-Sohyun?” he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and panic.
“Shh,” she cooed, her fingers trailing down his jawline. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just couldn’t leave without seeing you.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his heart pounding.
She smiled, her eyes soft but glinting with something far darker. “I told your parents about us. They were so supportive. Isn’t that nice?”
Y/n’s mind raced. “You... what?”
Sohyun leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I couldn’t wait any longer, Y/n. I needed to be near you.”
Before he could protest, she cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was deep and lingering, a mixture of passion and possessiveness that made Y/n’s head spin.
He tried to pull away, but her grip on him was firm, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him in place.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were filled with a terrifying intensity.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. “And nothing will ever change that.”
Y/n stared at her, his body frozen in shock and fear.
Sohyun smiled sweetly, brushing his hair back like he was the most precious thing in the world. “Rest well, my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she stood and left his room, Y/n’s heart raced, the weight of her words sinking in. He was trapped in her web now, and no matter how much he wanted to escape, he knew there was no way out.
Sohyun’s devotion was absolute. And in her mind, they were destined to be together—no matter the cost.
The halls of the school were eerily quiet as Sohyun strode through them, her hand gripping Y/n’s wrist like a vice. Students parted like the Red Sea, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and awe. Sohyun’s aura, already commanding, now radiated something far darker—an unspoken threat that no one dared to challenge.
“Move,” she barked at a group of underclassmen blocking her path. They scrambled aside without hesitation, their heads bowed.
Y/n trailed behind her, his expression blank but his eyes betraying his unease. Every so often, he glanced at the people staring at them, but he knew better than to resist.
Sohyun stopped abruptly, causing Y/n to stumble slightly. She turned to him, her expression softening only for him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice dripping with concern.
“I-i-i'm fine,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Her grip on his wrist loosened slightly, but she didn’t let go. “Good. You need to eat. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, his voice barely audible.
Sohyun frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Y/n,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to take care of yourself. For me.”
Y/n sighed and nodded, knowing there was no use fighting her.
As they entered the cafeteria, the atmosphere was electric. Whispers spread like wildfire, students craning their necks to watch the school’s queen bee and her new “boyfriend.” But the curiosity was laced with fear, especially after the recent news.
The criminals who had attacked Sohyun that night had been found dead, their bodies dumped near a ferry harbor. The police called it a "gang dispute," but the rumors swirling through the school told a different story.
“She had something to do with it,” one student whispered.
“Of course she did. Did you see how protective she’s been of him?”
“Don’t mess with her, or you’ll end up like them.”
Sohyun ignored the whispers, her focus entirely on Y/n. She led him to a table near the corner, where they could sit in relative privacy.
“Eat,” she said, placing a tray of food in front of him.
Y/n hesitated, but her expectant gaze forced him to comply. As he took small bites, Sohyun leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his arm.
“You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive. “No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Y/n didn’t respond, but his silence didn’t bother her. She smiled, satisfied, and leaned back in her chair, surveying the room like a queen overlooking her kingdom.
Later that day, Sohyun stood by the window of an empty classroom, her phone pressed to her ear.
“Is everything handled?�� she asked, her voice calm but cold.
“Yes, Miss Sohyun,” the voice on the other end replied. “There won’t be any loose ends.”
“Good,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’ve done well. Keep the rest of the team on standby. I’ll have more tasks for you soon.”
She ended the call and turned to see Y/n standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“Come here,” she said, her tone softening instantly.
He approached cautiously, his shoulders tense.
Sohyun reached out and took his hand, pulling him close. “You’ve given me purpose, Y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with a dangerous mix of love and obsession. “Together, we’re going to build something incredible. This is just the beginning.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.
“You’re mine, Y/n,” she whispered. “Forever.”
As the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Sohyun tightened her grip on his hand and led him out of the room. The whispers followed them, but Sohyun didn’t care.
This was her empire, and Y/n was the center of it. Nothing—and no one—would ever take him away from her.
- The End -
#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#x male reader#beautiful#yandere#yandere stories#sohyun triples#triples sohyun#triples#park sohyun#sohyun x reader#yandere blog#yandere girl#yandere x reader#update
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let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav
This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted
Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.
Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.
ao3 link
The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,
The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.
You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.
Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.
‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.
There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.
‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’
‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.
Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.
The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.
Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.
As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.
Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.
‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.
You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.
Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.
The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.
Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.
Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.
‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’
That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.
‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.
‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.
Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.
He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.
After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.
Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.
After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.
‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.
‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.
‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.
The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.
‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’
You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.
He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’
He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.
You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.
Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.
#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#gn!reader#gn!tav#unnamed tav#fluff#domestic fluff#hurt/comfort#fluff and angst#bg3#astarion#my writing#bg3 astarion#bg3 x tav#bg3 x reader#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 astarion#second person pov
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˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙➛ I am right here!
Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader
Summary: Physically seen but never romantically.
Genre: Highschool!Au, a bit angsty
Note: There are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread.. Finally back to writing!! Hope you guys like and enjoy this. Got Caught up in my work that i forgot to write and was mentally drained to even do so. But now i am back at it again and be sure to read all of the updates I'll be uploading!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚─ ───────
It was your free period so you've decided to go to the library and catch up on your other lessons. You were the only person there, so everything was perfect; it was quiet and the atmosphere was just right. The peacefulness surrounded you like a warm embrace─ it was relaxing and comforting.
Suddenly a loud bang from the doors and paddles of feet could be heard from across the room.
Well, so much for peace and quiet.
You didn't even have to check who it was that made the noise. You already knew who it was, correction who he was.
"Guess what y/n/n~" Oscar beamed─ Jumping at the seat next to you.
You flickered your eyes from your book to his. Slowly examining his whole figure.
He had this goofy grin plastered across his face and his smile widens even more as he speaks, you can practically hear the joy radiating from his voice.
God that smile is just so contagious, it matches so well with his angelic tone.
The look that you gave him definitely screams 'uninterested' but of course that's only the expression you show him.
Unbeknownst to Oscar all the deep feelings you want to further express to him.
You softly put down your book to the side and diverted all your attention at the man sitting beside you.
"What? Is there a reason why you look awfully like an idiot right now?" You answered, acting all cold and mundane as possible.
Oscar rolled his eyes and gently nudged your shoulders. "Why do you always frown like that, you know, you're way prettier when you smile."
And why do you always make my heart go crazy with those words??
You shrugged nonchalantly, "it's because you're super annoying and not very smile worthy."
"Ha Ha, real funny y/n, you crack me up" Oscar said sarcastically making you giggle softly. "Anyways, i have good news."
You stopped and raised your brows─ signaling for him to continue.
He took the hint and continued what he was going to say, "You know how I've been courting lily for the past few months now?"
Your smile soon fades and your demeanor quickly shifts as you try your best not to falter.
The reality was quick to weigh down on you. Crushing and crumbling your heart with each truthfulness.
From out of sight, you were gripping your thighs to stop the tears from going down, so much that it will probably bruise later.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, "I remember, only because you wouldn't stop talking about her, you lover boy" you spoke weakly─ punching his shoulders playfully to make it seem that it hadn't affected you.
"what about it?" You asked, even though you know where this conversation was heading.
Oscar couldn't contain his excitement and happily blurted out his words, "SHE FINALLY SAID YES."
Your lips subtly quiver and your eyes start to gloss. You knew where this was going so why does it hurt so bad?
"Wow uhm..i am so happy for you osc" you croaked, feeling your voice crack a little.
"I just feel so lucky to have her" Oscar sighed─ the smile on his face says it all.
He then went on and on about how she said yes and what he felt at the time. He was so busy talking about his feelings that he couldn't see yours.
You were smiling, yet your eyes tells another story.
He kept on talking, saying just how happy he was. "And then when she said yes, my heart just stopped beating and everything was in slow motion"
That's what i feel everyday with you.
His voice seemed to blend in the background and all you could hear was the ringing silence of loneliness.
You nod your head every now and then to what he was saying, despite not listening to what he was actually rambling on about.
You then abruptly cut him off and stood up, "uh i am sorry Osc but, i forgot that me and alex have this thing."
"What is it? Maybe i can help?" He offered, his eyes softening at your sudden reaction.
God, don't look at me with those eyes.
You shook your head and averted your eyes, ignoring his looks of concern. You didn't want him to see you like that. Not like this.
Don't fall for it y/n, he's just concerned as a Friend.
Without saying a word you quickly grabbed your things and scurried away from him. Leaving Oscar confused and dumbfounded.
...
You hurriedly ran to the nearest rest room─avoiding all the people that were in the way. Not wanting them to take a glance at your now tear eyed face.
As soon as you close the cubicle door, your whole body just went limp. Not having any energy anymore.
And you were now balling your eyes out on the ground─ bitting your lips, to stifle the cries that were escaping from your trembling mouth.
You were stupid enough to think that there was something going to happen between you and Oscar. It's your fault, for falling at his rosy sweet words, even though you knew deep down inside that he only meant that as a friend.
...
Short cause it got deleted ON MY FIRST DRAFT. Hope u enjoyed tho
#imagine#fanfic#oneshot#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one#red bull f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar x reader
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So what do we think about that draft where jean kill himself on the phone with kevin ? Or an au where kevin off himself because he couldn’t handle riko’s and jean’s death?
(coming back from my mini mental health break to drop... this. uuhhh cw for jean kills himself on the phone with Kevin sorry)
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It was late when Kevin's phone rang, loud enough to startle him from a light sleep, a half enjoyed Exy match still playing on his laptop.
Jean
Kevin paused the video.
Why was Jean calling him at this time of night? He should've been sleeping - No, at practice. Maybe he had just finished. Which schedule was he even on, now?
He pressed the green button to answer, but the feeling of something off came much quicker than any voice that would have followed. Dead air, for a moment too long, an electronic hiss, and Jean didn't speak.
"Hello?" Kevin answered, hearing a movement as he held the phone to his ear. "Jean, did you mean to call me?"
Jean laughed, a weak laugh, short and muffled. "I didn't think you'd actually pick up. That makes this all worse, doesn't it?"
His words were not English, instead French, spoken too loudly to be a secret. Kevin sat up and looked at the time again to make sure it was really as late as he thought it was. Maybe it's nothing, he comforted himself with a lie, a way of ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach that something wasn't quite right.
Jean's breathing was heavy, accompanied with a hum every few seconds, less of a happy sound, more of a struggle to keep quiet in whatever pain he was feeling.
"Why are you calling me?" Kevin whispered, like he might be heard if he didn't speak quietly. "Where is he?"
Jean laughed again, taking an inhale into the deepest parts of his lungs, before he said, "It doesn't matter."
"It does," Jean's uncharacteristic lack of care as to the king's whereabouts worried Kevin - If Riko wasn't with him... Kevin looked at the time again and again, trying to remember Riko's schedule. Why couldn't he remember?
Where was he, and why was Jean alone?
His question came out cautious. "What's going on?"
"Nothing that you can change," Jean's sigh was tired, a dismissal mixed with pessimism and hopelessness. "It's already done."
"What is?"
His heart started to pound in his chest, pushed by the tone of Jean voice, speaking french out loud without a care, no fear in his voice, but something different taking its place; Kevin was afraid, scared of the truth. Jean would never be so careless - so reckless and nonchalant. Something was wrong, so very wrong, and putting two and two together only left Kevin with too many questions and a rope around his chest.
"I hoped you wouldn't answer." Jean's voice cracked as he spoke, and Kevin shut his eyes at the sound. "I'm not even sure why I called in the first place, but ah. Here we are."
"Stop that. Where the fuck are you?"
"Only where i was always going to end up." He laughed, but instead of an awful, awkward sound, behind the laugh was thinly veiled pain. Something hurt. Jean was in pain, and Riko wasn't around, and Kevin started to pace, like he would find the answer somewhere else around the room.
Jean swallowed hard before continuing, "I would ask you how to say goodbye but you're not known to afford such courtesies, are you?"
Kevin stopped. "Goodbye?"
"Ah, so you do know how to say it," The sigh that followed had something behind it, something wistful, something painful, something... final. "Goodbye," he spoke in english, before a shaky inhale brought him back into French. "Are you happy?"
"With what?"
"Everything." His breath blew loudly through the mic of his phone. "With who you are, away from this place. In general, Kevin, are you happy now?"
Kevin hesitated. "Sometimes."
Jean hummed. "Better than never."
"What did you do?"
Jean doesn't respond immediately, and Kevin knew then what he hadn't wanted to know at all. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to assume, but then the sound of a sniffle and a low cry followed, and Kevin felt his heart start to break.
"What did you do, Jean?" He asked again, no louder than a whisper this time, quiet enough that he could hear Jean's whimper as he started to gently cry.
"Will you stay with me?" Jean replied, a swallow in his throat, the phone being placed down somewhere. "I don't want to die alone."
"Let me call someone," Kevin begged. "Why? Why would you- Why? You promised. You promised."
"Be quiet." He pleaded, and Kevin covered his mouth with his free hand. Was this happening? Jean's words were not as angry as his tone would have suggested, instead a soft quiver in his voice, as he tried to hold back the tears that Kevin pictured rolling down his face. "Just stay with me or fuck off and don't let my last thought of you be that you're an insufferable bitch."
Kevin almost laughed.
He almost laughed, knowing what was happening, knowing Jean was fading away on the other line, as he cried, dealing with whatever he'd done to himself, however it was happening.
"Tell me something I don't know," His accented voice was getting weaker with every agonising second that passed. "Talk to me."
Jean knew everything about him, almost everything, so much so that he couldn't think of something new, something that he didn't know. This was his only light in a dungeon of darkness, and that light was fading quicker than he'd left him alone all those months ago. It was not comfort Jean was looking for, but perhaps company, or a presence, just to believe that someone cared, to feel like someone was there at the end of it all. He didn't really want to know Kevin's trivia and fun facts; He said it himself - he didn't want to die alone.
"Don't do this to me," It was all that he could say, a desperate, despaired attempt, no other words meaningful enough to get him to change his mind. "Let me help you."
"You can't," Jean responded. "Not this time."
And Kevin knew that it was the truth.
He thought for a moment. What was he even supposed to do? He thought about calling for help anyway - on the one hand desperate to keep him alive, while on the other hand knowing what would be waiting for him on the other side of survival. There were no scenarios in which Jean would prosper. If Kevin called for help, it would have caused a scene, and he swore he could already hear the cracking of bones under the Master's cane, and the muffled screams that would follow.
Kevin pictured a fate almost worse than death in every attempt to end that night differently; Jean's choice had been made - this was it, and this was his goodbye.
The understanding did not make the reality any easier to digest, though. Instead it sat heavy in his stomach, weighing him down, into the fabric of the sheets he sank back down into.
"I'm sorry," He said. "I've never said that to you before. I wish i never left you."
"I don't," Jean had started to slur his words. "You deserve to be happy. Even just sometimes."
"You do too."
Jean clicked his tongue, but he didn't comment.
Perhaps he knew it was what he deserved, but it had always been more of a mythical concept than anything achievable. He knew what that darkness felt like, the familiar sound of those swirling spirals, the thoughts of can I live like this forever? that fueled the fire to bring him to this point.
The silence on the phone line lasted for an uncomfortable moment too long.
“Jean?”
Jean mumbled his response after another long pause. “Mmm?”
“Tell me something,” Kevin turned his question back on him. “Something that nobody knows about you.”
Jean’s laugh was so weak it could barely be considered a laugh anymore; more an exhale of air with something behind it. “I wanted to be a writer. Before all of this.”
“What would you write?”
Jean thought for a moment. “Poems. Things nobody would ever read. Sometimes…”
Kevin’s heart started thumping again as Jean trailed off into a mumbling silence. “Sometimes..?” He prompted him.
“Hmm?”
“What would you write other than poems?”
“Something for the theatre,” His words were slow and tired. “Something to be… performed.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Ah.” Jean sucked in a long, laboured breath. “Dramas. Something to leave… Mmm-” There’s a dull thud on the other end of the line. He couldn't hold back his quiet groan. “Something…”
“Jean.” Kevin wanted to tell him to be quiet, to wake up, to perk up. He wanted to tell Jean that his joke wasn’t funny and he was waiting for the punchline to come.
“Kevin.” He said, long and drawn out, twice the length it needs to be.
“Did you ever show anyone? Your stories?”
“Only Elodie.” His sisters name rolled off his tongue with a wet, gentle cry. “My actress.”
Kevin thought about her then, not knowing where her brother is, not knowing that he was dying on the other end of the phone.
“Did she like them?” When Jean didn't respond, Kevin raised his voice. “Jean.”
“Mmhmm,” He answered, not much of an answer at all. More of an acknowledgment of his quickly dimming consciousness, a murmur of life to prove he was still there. “Can’t talk much longer.”
“I know.” The painful acceptance left his mouth with a bitterness Kevin couldn't quite describe. “Tell me about her. Elodie.”
“I wish…” Jean spoke through almost shut lips, and Kevin winced at the sound of sleepiness as it started to consume him. “All alone.” He finished a thought he never spoke out loud. “I think… I'm tired.”
“I know.” Kevin said again. “Are you going to sleep?”
There was a struggle in his inhale as he answered, "I think so.”
Fuck. “Are you sure?”
“Mmhmm.”
There's a moment of silence.
“Jean.” Kevin calls. He could still hear his hollow breathing on the other line, but he called his name again when all that followed was silence, “Jean?”
“Mmm?” His breath slowed down to nothing, and Kevin was certain he could hear the slow and irregular ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum of his friends struggling heart.
“I love you.” Kevin said, but he felt sick as the words left his mouth. It felt worthless to him then, an empty promise. Words that should've been said far too long ago. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“Mmhmhm,” Jean hummed in three syllables. "Safe."
And Kevin waited as the silence drew on. He heard it, the final breath that left his lips, the rattle of his breath through lungs too weak to take it.
One second, he counted, and another.
Another, and another, and another, and a million moments passed with nothing but silence and the knowledge of Jean's soul hopefully finding solace in another, brighter place.
He put his phone down, too scared to hang up, and waited for a sign that this wasn't final - waiting for a sign that said this would simply result in a punishment taken too far, that in a months time when Jean's wounds healed he would call Kevin again and apologise for breaking his promise.
Kevin tried not to care about the promise, to not watch the duration of the call going up and up and up with not so much as a peep from the other end of the phone. He tried not to wonder what would happen next - would his parents be informed, would they care? Would they send his body back to France, or would he die, anonymous and insignificant, buried in some American plot of land somewhere, that nobody cared enough about to put a bunch of flowers on top of?
Would the Master call Kevin, would anyone let him know, when they didn't know Kevin had taken another breath after Jean had taken his last?
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ!" The voice on the other end of the phone scared Kevin out of the depth of his thoughts. Was it Zane? He wondered, his finger hovering over the button to end the call, or was it just another voice of a nameless Raven who would forget about this all once the sun rose? "Get the King, tell him it's-"
Kevin hung up before he could hear any more.
The panic attack that followed was not a friendly one - It started slow, but before long, his chest was stuck in a vice, and his heart was prepared to take off. Kevin couldn't hold it in anymore - he cried, choking on the breaths that left his hands numb.
Kevin didn't hear Andrew coming in, but he stood by the door frame, watching, hardly visible through the blurry haze of tears in his eyes. Andrew glanced at the still-lit-up phone screen on the bed beside Kevin, and shut the door gently behind him.
No words were enough.
There's nothing that could be done to make everything okay again, nothing he could hear that that would stop the guilt, and the sadness, and the hurt, that all-consuming hurt.
All Kevin had to offer then, was pain, and bottomless grief, as he held his racing heart while it broke into a million, tiny pieces.
#not a fantastic place to start after my four days of self care to stop myself feeling like dookie#but here u go im sorry#it isn't written great#its a bit stale#but its the thought that counts? right?#mine#ask#kevin day#jean moreau
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Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.
Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.
"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.
"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."
Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."
You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."
He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."
You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.
His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."
"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.
You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"
Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."
He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."
"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"
"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."
"A cake?" you gasped.
Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."
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The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.
"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.
"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."
You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."
"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.
"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.
You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."
Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."
"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.
"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement.
"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.
Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."
For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.
"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.
"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.
"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."
"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.
"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"
He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.
"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.
"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."
"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.
"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."
Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"
She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.
"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"
Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.
"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."
You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."
-----------------------------
It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked.
"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.
"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.
"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."
Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.
"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."
He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.
He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."
Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.
"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."
When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.
"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.
You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.
"Roo."
Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.
----------------------------
Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.
Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."
"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."
"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.
You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.
"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"
You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.
"Did you finish eating dinner?"
"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."
Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.
"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."
"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."
He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"
You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."
"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."
You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.
----------------------------
You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."
His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."
Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"
You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."
Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."
It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you.
As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.
"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."
As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.
"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."
Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.
After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.
"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.
"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.
"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.
"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.
Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.
-----------------------------
Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.
"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.
"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.
Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet.
"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.
But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."
A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"
Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.
"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.
--------------------------------
Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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