#I’ll give them both credit and say that they both loved their kids | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jobean12-blog · 1 year

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Playing for Keeps

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2,634

Summary: You and Eddie are friends but there’s obvious tension between you and when he steps in to save the day it’s too difficult to deny it any longer.

Author’s Note: I’ve missed my sweet Eddie so! And when @the-slumberparty announced their week 4- Across the Universe Challenge it was the perfect opportunity to visit him again! I love AU’s! And this is in a college AU setting! They’ve all graduated HS and are finishing up college, so over 21 at this point. My lovely Eddie darlings also shared this tumblr post with me and it was too good to resist adding a little snippet to the story! Thank you to Navy and Roo for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️The college divider is by my sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics and the bat divider is by my lovely @wannabehamlet thank you both! 🥰

Warnings: lots of flirty and sweet fun, slightly possessive Eddie, good friends, soft touches, fake dating for a hot minute, kisses

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @rosetico thank you lovely🥰

Eddie Munson Masterlist

The light tap on your window makes you smile before you even look up and when you do you’re met with smiling brown eyes and a cute little bat drawn in the morning condensation that frosts the glass.

With a dramatic ‘oof’ Eddie pushes the window open and falls through, landing on your bed.

“Hi babes,” he chimes as he rolls off and stands. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” you say, looking back down at your drawing pad and popping the p. “Lemme just finish this part.”

He skips over to you and settles at your shoulder, peeking at the paper in your hand.

“Oh man,” he cheers. “I love it so far! I’m gonna be covered in tattoos by the time you’re done.”

You grin as you finish the sketch and then close it and drop it in your bag. Eddie holds out his hand and pulls you from the floor.

“Come on,” he says, moving toward the window.

“Eddie,” you deadpan. “We can use the front door.”

“Oh,” he mutters. “Right.”

He spins with a flourish and rushes you out of your room and out of the apartment.

You arrive to class with a few minutes to spare and shuffle into your seats. Eddie sits with a plop and starts wildly patting his jacket and then his pants.

His mouth opens to speak but before he even asks the question you have a pen in your hand and you’re waving it in front of his face.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he winks. “I don’t know where all my pens go!”

“I do,” you mumble.

He looks at you expectantly.

“They’re hidden all over your apartment. You’re always walking around with one in your mouth or behind your ear and then you put them down and boom. GONE! I don’t know where but they have to be somewhere!”

He stares at you unblinking before he shrugs with a quiet, “hmph yeah.”

You playfully roll your eyes and get comfortable, going back to your sketch while you wait for the professor.

Suddenly, Eddie’s hand is between your eyes and the paper, a little smiley face drawn on his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hi, my name’s Eddie,” he says in a silly voice as he opens and closes his hand like it’s talking. “Do you wanna come to my show this weekend?”

You drop your pencil to the pad and grab his hand, kissing the spot where the face is drawn and holding it up in front of your face.

“Of course I’ll come to your show Eddie,” you giggle.

He bumps your shoulder with his and leans in to kiss your cheek just as your professor walks in.

“Alright, break it up kids. You can flirt later. Time to learn Astronomy,” he reprimands as he strides down the steps.

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink and he pulls away, dropping his head.

You stifle a giggle and bend down close to him, brushing his hair away so you can see his face.

“Busted,” you tease.

He gives you the side eye but even so his lips turn up into a mischievous smile.

‘Tap, tap, tap.’

Eddie peers into your room through the window, pressing his face closer and fogging up the glass. He rubs it with his hand and tries again.

You walk in just as he gives the glass a harder tap and you scream, startled from the noise and the silhouette of Eddie’s dark curls against the window.

Your fingers tighten on the towel and you rush over just as he gives you a sheepish look, mouthing sorry.

Before you help him inside, you make sure your towel is secure, then lift the window.

“You scared me to death!” you shout as you stomp away and he falls through the opening, bouncing on your bed. “You’re lucky you didn’t fall!”

“Sorry princess,” he croons as he hops up behind you, swallowing hard when his eyes sweep over your bare skin.

He grabs one of his curls and mindlessly chews on it, his eyes following you as you move around the room.

At his unusual silence you turn and narrow yours eyes suspiciously. He jumps and averts his stare.

“You ok?” you ask him as you close the distance between you.

“I’m feeling a bit…,” and he sort of wiggles and dances in front of you like he’s a ball of energy, “excited for tonight.”

You can’t stop your smile as you rest a calming hand on his chest and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“You’re always excited,” you joke. “But don’t worry you’re gonna kill it,” you assure him.

When you turn away he presses his fingers to his cheek and closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your lips lingering on his skin.

“What should I wear?” you ask him as you search your closet. “Is it cold out?”

No answer.

“Eddie,” you call, half buried in clothes.

“Huh? What was that babe?”

“Any suggestions on what I should wear?” you ask again.

“Um…everything you wear is nice. You always look amazing.”

You give him a soft smile of thanks.

“You’re the sweetest but that’s no help.”

Sighing lightly you look back into your closet and grab your favorite little black dress then head to your drawers for undergarments.

With your matching bra and panties in hand you give Eddie an excited smile and exclaim, “I’m just gonna get dressed and do my face then we can leave.”

He nods, his gaze focused on the lace dangling from your fingers.

“Can you turn around?” you ask with a smirk.

“Who? Me?” he says dragging his eyes up to yours.

You twirl your finger around and tap your foot, trying to hide your smile.

He holds his hand over his heart as if you’ve wounded him and then relents with an exaggerated spin before throwing himself on your bed face first.

“Tell me when you’re dressed,” he says, his words muffled by your blanket.

You start to hum the melody to one of your favorite Corroded Coffin songs and you can hear him start to sing along with you, his butt shaking on the bed.

When you stop singing and start grunting in frustration, he perks up and peeks out through his hair, holding the curls open like a curtain.

“You ok over there?” he asks.

“I can’t…” you grumble, “I can’t zip my dress up! UGH!”

Your hands fall to your sides and you huff and when you turn to ask Eddie for help he’s already there standing right in front of you.

There’s very little space between you and his chest nearly brushes yours with his sharp intake of breath when you ask, “would you?”

You give him your back and wait, your eyes trained on the reflection of the two of you in the mirror that hangs above your dresser.

With shaky hands he reaches for the zipper, pinching it between his fingers and resting his other hand on your lower back. He slowly pulls it up, his knuckles brushing your skin with the motion.

You tremble at his touch and his eyes widen and focus on yours in the mirror’s reflection.

“Thanks,” you breathe out, toying with your necklace and lowering your lashes.

Keeping his eyes on you he fingers the strap of your dress before pressing his lips to your shoulder.

“Any time princess.”

The bar is already busy by the time you arrive and the noise of the crowd mixed with the sounds of Corroded Coffin tuning up creates a din that leaves your ears ringing.

You rest against the bar and idly sip your drink. Steve and Robin are next to you arguing about their love lives.

There are several girls swarming the stage but Eddie doesn’t even seem to notice them, his sole focus on his guitar…and you. You give him a little wave, twinkling your fingers as you gaze back at him over the rim of your glass.

“So,” Steve drawls, bumping your shoulder.

You meet Steve’s eyes and raise your eyebrows in question.

Steve looks between you and Eddie several times before he scoffs.

“You and Eddie…” he states.

“Me and Eddie what?” you ask, cocking a hip.

“You’ve been hanging out a lot this semester,” Steve adds.

“I’m designing a new tattoo for him and we’re in three classes together,” you explain.

“And?” Steve waits.

“And I like hanging out with him. We’re friends.”

“Mm hm…I don’t look at my friends like that,” Steve teases.

“Like what?” you hiss.

Steve dips his head to whisper in your ear, “like I wanna drag ‘em into the bathroom to fuck.”

Your mouth falls open and you give him a hard shove.

“Ugh Harrington!” you groan.

Steve just smiles knowingly and waves to Eddie when he’s sees that he’s watching the whole interaction.

After Corroded Coffin places their first set you move back to the bar to grab Eddie a beer. You’re standing and waiting for the bartender when you hear a familiar voice call your name.

You turn to see your ex-boyfriend, Scott, smiling at you.

“Hey,” he says, sliding past Steve to get next to you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You blankly stare at him for a moment before saying, “I’m really surprised to see you. Shouldn’t you be across the country right now at school?”

“Yea…well actually I transferred. I’m back in Indiana,” Scott says.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before downing half your drink.

“That’s it?” he laughs dryly. “I thought you’d be more excited to have me back.”

He says the last sentence with a hint of flirtation and you cringe.

“Why?” you answer. “We broke up because you’re a cheater and a liar.”

He has the audacity to look shocked. Thankfully, before Scott can say something else stupid, Eddie walks up behind you and slides his arms around your neck in a hug.

“Who’s this beautiful?” he asks, his tone slightly possessive as he moves next to you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“This is Scott,” you tell Eddie, giving him a look.

You can see Eddie’s jaw clench and feel his fingers tighten on your waist.

“Scott,” Eddie says with a curt nod. “What are you doin’ here?”

Scott straightens up and puffs out his chest. “Not that it’s any of your business but I moved back to Indiana.”

“Who is this guy?” Scott asks you, pointing a finger at Eddie.

“Her boyfriend,” Eddie fibs before you can reply. “Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t offer his hand and instead tucks you into his side and kisses the top of your head.

You lean into Eddie and smile before handing him his beer.

He thanks you quietly and takes a swig, pinning Scott with a glare.

The awkward moment with Scott gets broken when Jeff calls Eddie back to the stage.

“You gonna be ok princess?” Eddie asks as his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“I’m good,” you assure him, hoping your voice doesn’t waiver from feel of his lips on your skin. “Thanks.”

He looks skeptical and reluctantly let’s you go but not before he leans down close and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“See you after the show,” he whispers with a wink.

You press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself and trying not to think about how good he feels beneath them.

He walks off backward, his eyes never leaving yours until he turns to hop onto the stage and then they connect with you again, his expression heated.

“Sooooo…you and that guy?” Scott asks, effectively ruining the moment.

“What do you mean that guy?” you grit out. “His name is Eddie and he’s my boyfriend.”

“I just didn’t realize that was your type,” Scott shrugs, taking no note of the venom in your tone.

“Oh really? Do you think cheating liars are my type then?” you say derisively.

Scott’s upper lip curls in disgust and he steps closer to you, invading your space. You try to move back but there’s too many people and even though the noise level is high you can still hear his whispered insult.

“When did you become such a raging bitch?”

Your head jerks back and your eyes water, your mouth moving but the words lost. Just when you find your voice you feel the hard press of leather at your back and the scent of Eddie envelopes you in safe comfort.

“What did you say to her?” Eddie seethes. “What the fuck did you say?”

Eddie skirts around you and pushes you protectively behind him, his finger now in Scott’s face.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, tugging on his jacket. “It’s ok.”

“No it’s not sweetheart,” Eddie answers softly before pushing farther into Scott’s space.

“What. Did. You. Say?” Eddie asks again, curling his hand into a fist.

“He called her a raging bitch!” Robin growls from beside you.

You didn’t even know she was nearby and she gives you a reassuring smile, grabbing your hand to squeeze it.

Steve slides up next to Eddie, hands crossed over his chest and his expression hard.

“Are we about to kick some preppy ass Munson?” Steve asks, widening his stance.

“It’s either that or this piece of shit gets the fuck out of my bar,” Eddie says.

Scott looks between Eddie and Steve before he glances behind them and at you. He throws you one last disgusted glare and then quickly turns on his heels and brushes past the now staring crowd and walks out the door.

Everyone erupts into cheers.

You spin around and into Eddie’s arms.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, burying your face in his chest.

Eddie gently rubs your back and pulls you closer.

“You ok?” he asks softly, sliding his fingers between your bodies and tucking them under your chin to lift your face.

“You’re already the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and you’ve only been my fake boyfriend for ten minutes,” you say with a wry smile.

His eyes light up and he brushes his fingers across your cheek.

“That’s because all your other boyfriends were total assholes,” he states.

“Pretty much,” you agree.

“EDDIE LET’S GO! WE’RE ON IN FIVE!” Jeff shouts from the stage.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mutters, holding on to you tighter.

“No, it’s ok. You have to go play,” you tell him with a shake of your head and a small shove.

He grabs your wrists and instead drags you closer, pressing you against him.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you…” he murmurs as his head dips just enough so you can feel his warm breath caress your cheek, “since the moment I saw you.”

A breathy “oh,” is all you get out, your shoulders drawing inward with a tremble as he moves closer. His fingertips skim along your skin and trace the neckline of your dress then move to your shoulder to fix the fallen strap.

“Think I can be your boyfriend for real?” he asks, his eyes dropping to your lips as he inches closer.

You slowly exhale a “yes,” as your head moves up and down in agreement.

His nose bumps yours with the lightest touch before he whispers, “thank fuck,” and the corner of his mouth turns up into a boyish but smug smirk.

His hands move to your face, cradling your cheeks, and you feel the brush of his rings against your heated skin, the sensation making your eyelashes flutter.

He kisses you gently, carefully, but it isn’t gentleness you want, not now, not after all that’s happened, and you fist your hands into his leather jacket, tugging him harder against you.

And then he’s kissing you harder, the intensity stealing your breath until you realize you’ve had a taste and you’ll never have enough.

@buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @ysmmsy @goldylions @dreamlessinparis @seitmai @peaches1958 @munsonsduchess @hiddles-rose

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #college!eddie munson #college au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #navy and roo’s sleepover

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lovebaela · 1 month

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THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 1: A New Life

masterlist l next

(a/n) hello! I decided to restart my “Ice and Fire” fanfaction because I have so much more ideas for a better story :) even though it’s discontinued, if you would like to check it out here’s the masterlist! I hope you guys will enjoy this one 🤍 I’m working on the masterlist for this series right now!

Divider credit: @dingusfreakhxrrington @valeskafics

°❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･ CW: fem!oc, betrothal (forced marriage), topics of abuse and racism, angst, a lot of fluff, smut (I’ll try lol), and murder.꙳·��°*˖ Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.

Why must the gods be so cruel to me? What could I have possibly done to deserve this life? To be sold off like a slave by my own flesh and blood…I’ll never forgive Viserys. Without Dany, I am alone. Without love. I want to go home. But…where do I belong? The summer isles? No, that can’t be my true home, I never had the chance to live there. Do I belong anywhere?

Daughter of the mad king’s younger brother. Rhaella never knew her mother. She died after giving birth in the Summer Isles, killed by assassins under the command of the new king, Robert Baratheon. When he found out Rhaella’s mother was pregnant, he wanted both of them dead. Rhaella was smuggled out of the isles and sent to her cousins, the last Targaryens.

“I know you’re upset,” Lord Eddard Stark said, placing his hand on top of hers.“But please, believe me when I say this. I will never let anyone harm you. You are under my protection now.”

Rhaella gave him a weak smile back. Rhaella, the same name as the Mad King’s sister and wife. Daenerys gave her the name. Viserys despised the idea of his mother’s name given to the likes of a foreign girl. Even though she was still a Targaryen, he only considered her half and not pure. She took after her mother, with more summer isle features. Her skin wasn’t pale, instead, a light amber and tan that would get even darker in the sun. She had long silver curly hair, unlike her cousins who had straight silver blonde hair. The thing Rhaella hated the most was her eyes. Instead of being a pretty violet color, she had dark purple eyes that almost looked black.

Rhaella looked away from the carriage window to make eye contact with Lord Stark, “My Lord?” She asked, “Why did you accept my cousin’s offer to take me?”

“Well, you see,” he explained, “The rebellion caused great loss for everyone. So many people, loved ones, dead. Especially your family, unfortunately. I’ll never forgive him for his order of murder. When the king found out 3 Targaryens were still out in the world, he wanted you all dead. I wanted to prove to him that even though Areys was mad, that doesn’t mean you all don’t deserve to live. By taking you in and marrying one of my sons, we can show him that you are not our enemies. It took him a while to be fully convinced, but he agreed to let you live.”

”But, my eldest cousin,” Rhaella said. “He…he wants to take the seven kingdoms. I’m not sure how, but that is his plan.”

”I highly doubt he is a true threat,” Lord Stark said.

”you’re right,” she admitted. “He can be a big coward at times.”

That comment made him chuckle.

He has a nice smile, very warm and welcoming. Even though he did come off as cold before.

“Will I have to marry now?” Rhaella asked.

“Oh gods no!” He chuckled, “you are far too young, my son as well.”

“Will he like me?”

“I believe so, you have nothing to worry about. Bran is a good kid. He will treat you right.”

Once they made it through the gates, the carriage stopped. Lord Stark exited first so he could get the door for Rhaella. He gently held her hand as she took her steps down. Once Rhaella looked up from the steps, she saw the Stark family before her. Not letting go of her hand, Lord Stark approached his family to introduce their special guest.

“This is Rhaella Targaryen. As you all know, she will be with us now. Treat her as you would treat each other. If anyone disrespects her, let me know.”

They all nodded. A very handsome older boy approached her, “Hello, my lady, I am Robb,” he told her, “I hope you enjoy Winterfell and welcome!” Before walking away, he kissed her hand. That made Rhaella blush, “T-Thank you.” He had blue eyes and dark auburn hair. It was so dark you could barely tell if it was red. He had to have been the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.

An older girl walked up to her gracefully, “Hello,” she smiled, “my name is Sansa. I hope we can grow to be like sisters! Maybe even brush each other’s hair, make dresses together, and so much more!” Rhaella gave a slight smile back, “I would love that!” Then a girl, who looked not too older than her, approached saying, “My name is Arya! Don’t worry, we don’t have to do girly stuff together. There are other ways to have fun!”

Then, she met Rickon, the youngest in the family, and their mother Lady Stark. “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, “aren't you just a lovely thing? Such a beauty.” Rhaella blushed at the compliment, thanking her.

She must be lying to me. I mean, just look at me! The journey to Westeros was so long that hair became wild and poofy.

”You must be frightened,” Lady Stark said. “Trust me, I never favored the cold myself. I still don’t, but you grow to appreciate it.”

Rhaella couldn’t keep her eyes off Lady Catelyn Stark’s features. Like Robb and Sansa, she had long auburn hair and pretty blue eyes. Her gown was also blue, making her eyes stand out even more.

“Where is Bran?” Lord Stark asked his wife.

“I told that boy to stop climbing,” she explained. “Brandon!”

“Sorry mother!” A voice yelled from above, “I’m coming down!”

When Rhaella looked up, she examined him. He looked to be the same age as her. He had dark brown hair and eyes with freckles on his face. He approached her and bowed, “Welcome to Winterfell, I hope you will take a liking to it.” “Thank you,” she replied.

The atmosphere quickly grew awkward. The two children didn’t know what to say to each other.

Lady Stark took Rhaella’s hand, “You must be exhausted, here, come with me.” She guided Rhaella to her bed chamber and had the handmaidens start a bath. After the bath, she laid on her bed for a quick nap.

After waking up, the handmaidens helped her get into a gown for dinner. The dress was purple with roses embroidered across the neckline. Then, they helped her with her hair. They clearly did not know what they were doing. They aren’t used to doing curly hair like Rhaella’s, but they managed to make something of it. They brushed out her curls, putting them in a half-up-half-down style. The ponytail was braided and put into a bun. After the handmaidens left the room, she looked at herself in the mirror.

I don’t even look like myself anymore.

Tears began to fill her eyes, I just want to go home.

She bolted out of the room, not knowing where she was going. She ran outside the big castle but didn’t dare to leave outside the castle walls. She eventually found an area that stood out to her. The whole vibe was strange as if something or someone was watching her. It was nothing but an old forest with no snow. In the middle of it, was a pool and a tree. A tree she’d never seen before. The huge tree was white with red leaves and a face carved into it. She stared deeply into the tree’s eyes for a while.

Is it staring back at me?

She snapped out of it, shaking her head, and climbed up the tree to sit on a huge branch.

Without Daenerys, I am lost. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying in the tree for, but she didn’t care. Winterfell wasn’t her home.

“Rhaella?” She heard a voice ask.

When she looked up, she saw Bran with a concerned look on his face, “w-why are you crying?”

She wiped her tears. “Sorry, I just miss my sister…how did you know I’d be here?”

“I like to go to the godswood, and climb up this tree,” he said. “Whenever I like to be alone and think. I’m sorry you had to leave your sister.”

“Well, she isn’t my sister, not really,” she admitted, wiping her face. “We are actually cousins. We just call each other sisters.”

He sat next to her, “my family was worried about you. They thought you might have ran away.” He nervously chuckled. “I…I know that we are to be married one day. The idea of marriage scares me.”

She doesn’t respond, only looking down at her hands as she fidgets with them. “I have something for you,” Bran showed her a beautiful blue flower. “That was the reason I was climbing.” He told her. “I wanted to give you something as a gift. I was going to give it to you at the dinner table but here. If I hurt your feelings not being there to greet you, I’m so sorry.” Rhaella took the flower and sniffed it.

“It’s called the winter rose,” he continued. “A rare flower that can grow around the castle.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

”You know, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean we have to be in love right now or anything,” he said. “Let’s just be friends!”

”Yeah I’d like that!” She said.

”And just so you know,” he whispered. “I liked your hair better before. Your curly hair is much better.”

She laughed, “You and me both.”

”You’re laughing!”

”So?”

”This is your first time laughing here,” he said. “You have a nice smile.”

”Thanks, Bran,” she said. “You know, my eldest cousin ,Viserys, told me and Dany that you guys were evil monsters. But, you guys aren’t monstrous at all!”

Before Bran could respond, they both hear a voice from down below calling for Bran. An older boy who looked the same age as Robb. He was very handsome with black curls and dark eyes. “I found her Jon!” Bran shouted.

”Well, what are you sitting around for? They are all waiting for you two!” The two of them climbed down from the tree and walked with Jon.

“Forgive me, my name is Jon Snow,” he told Rhaella. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

”I never heard of the last name ‘snow’ before,” she confessed.

Bran began to explain, ”That last name actually means he’s a…well—”

”Bastard.” Jon said. His voice was cold and somber.

”I don’t know what that means,” Rhaella said. “But Viserys called me that sometimes, I assumed as an insult.”

”It means that my father, Lord Stark, had me with another woman. I wanted to meet you when you arrived, but Lady Stark thought it would be disrespectful.”

Rhaella couldn’t help but feel awful for him. There was something about Jon Snow that made him stand out. As if they had a connection. She wondered if Jon felt it too.

“You said that Viserys called us evil,” Bran said. “Then why did he want to send you away to us?”

“He hates me,” she answered. “He saw you guys as an opportunity to get rid of me…”

Once they all made it to the dining hall, all eyes were on Rhaella and Bran. “Well, aren’t you just beautiful?” Catelyn smiled. “Please, have a seat.” Bran escorted her to her chair and went back to his. Before Jon could leave the Hall, Rhaella asked, “Can Jon eat with us please?”

”Ah, I see you met him while you were gone,” Lord Stark said, amused. “Would him eating with us please you?”

Rhaella looked over at Jon, whose eyes lightened up. She looked back at Lord Stark and gave a nod. He looked over at Lady Stark, “What do you say?”

She looked into Rhaella’s sparkling eyes and sighed, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

Rhaella gave a big smile. Jon pulled a chair next to her whispering, “Thank you Rhaella.”

“I hope you like the dress,” Sansa said. “I made it myself! I wanted to test my embroidery skills and decided to make you one!”

“It’s beautiful,” Rhaella told her. “You should teach me!” Sansa nodded gleefully.

“You know, we all thought you ran off and escaped!” Arya laughed.

“I…I didn’t mean any trouble or offense, I apologize.” Rhaella announced, standing up from her chair and bowing her head. “It was rude of me.”

“No,” Lord Stark said. “You have every right to feel the way you do. Your life changed right before your eyes. But please, believe me when I say this, we are here for you.”

“Aye.” Robb agreed. “If you are having trouble with anyone or anything let us know.” She thanked the both of them for their kindness.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like outside of Westeros?” Catelyn asked.

Rhaella told them everything. Even about the abuse Viserys had done to her. He always yelled at her for the littlest things. The worst thing he ever did was sneak into her bedchamber with a knife. He threatened to cut out her insides if she didn’t cooperate with his plan to send her to the North.

They all had concerned looks on their faces. The abuse never got to her until explaining it out loud. She really did have it rough.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Arya said. “You are with us now!”

“Safe and sound,” Sansa added.

Rhaella didn’t realize she was smiling.

”So, Rhaella…you said you were from the Summer Isles right?” Theon asked.

“Yes, why you ask?”

He smirked at Robb before asking, “I heard the women there are quite breathtakingly beautiful?” She could have sworn she heard him whisper “and have nice bodies.”

”Well, I’ve never actually stayed there, I had to flee because of the King,” she explained. “But from the books I’ve read and from what I heard from some servants in Pentos, yes, the women there are quite beautiful.”

”I also heard that they have a passion for love making,” he said. “Maybe I gotta visit there sometime-.”

”Theon!” Lady Stark snapped. “Don’t be disrespectful-.”

”Oh that’s okay!” Rhaella reassured her. “You’re right, Theon! They do have a passion for it. If I were to stay in the Isles, I would have been a prostitute myself!”

Sansa and Lady Stark almost choked on their food, as Robb, Theon, and Jon bursted out laughing at the table. She didn’t understand what was so funny, but she laughed along with them.

”What’s a prostitute?” Rickon asked, innocently. That made the boys start crying from laughter. Theon even fell out of his chair.

”Y-You’ll know when you’re older!” Lady Stark said.

”You’ll fit in with us just fine, child,” Lord Stark said. “Welcome to the family!”

°❀⋆Daenerys.ೃ࿔*:･

Daenerys never felt more lonely. She missed Rhaella, her real family. She’d never forgive her brother for what he did.

“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted.

He entered her bed chamber, “do not tell me you’re still upset about that savage.”

She felt rage enter her body as he said those words. “She is not a savage, she’s my sister,” she replied softly. “And I don’t understand why you sent her to our enemies.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “We both know that’s not true. She’s our cousin. Daughter of our uncle and whatever foreign whore he married. She’s not a pure Targaryen like us, Dany. And she never will be. I gave her away because we need allies, even if they are enemies. The Starks are a strong house, and I knew that Lord Stark would gladly take her in. The fool won’t even know of my plans to destroy him and his dear friend Robert.”

Daenerys always considered Rhaella her sister, even if it wasn’t true. They spent all of their time together, never leaving one’s side. It felt like it was yesterday, the day Rhaella arrived in Braavos as a baby. Viserys wanted nothing to do with her while Daenerys cherished her. She had no idea why Viserys was so upset about naming their cousin after their mother. It was only a name after all. She always thought it was much deeper than Rhaella being a “savage.” She never dared to ask him though.

“I have good news.” He announced. She examined his face, his grin looked devious. Truly it wasn’t good news. “I found you a husband,” he said. “His name is Khal Drogo, Magister Illyrio said. A Dothraki savage. When you two wed, I’ll have his army. We can finally go home, sweet sister.”

Home.

All she ever wanted was a home. A home with Rhaella, where they could finally be happy together. With her gone, Daenerys wasn’t sure if it would be home without her.

“And what about her?” She asked him.

“The savage?” He scoffed. “Those Starks have her now. I don’t care what they do to her. As long as we have our alliance with the North.”

Daenerys wanted to cry, but she stayed strong. I will meet her again, one day.

°❆⋆Bran ೃ࿔*:･

It had only been a couple of months, but for Bran, it felt like he had known Rhaella his whole life. Rhaella also grew close to his sisters but mostly Arya. The three of them were inseparable. Rhaella even taught them some of the Valyrian language. Some nights, the three of them would stay up and read history books about Targaryen history until they got caught by the Septa. For fun, they liked to go sledding and have snowball fights. The older Stark boys and Rickon joined them sometimes, but never Sansa. Ever since Rhaella arrived, Sansa and Arya fought less. It’s like wherever she went, she spread joy. That’s one of the traits Bran liked about her.

Now, everyone is preparing for the arrival of the King.

He overheard his father saying that the King was almost there. Bran felt sorry for Rhaella because she was so stressed out. “What will he do to me?” She asked. He always reassured her, “You are under our protection now, the King approved of you. Don’t worry about a thing.”

At that moment, it was time for Bran to practice his archery. He hasn’t been getting any better. He wanted to show his family he could hit the bull’s eye. First, only Robb was watching him. Then, came Jon and Rickon. Before he knew it, his parents came to watch as well.

“Keep practicing, Bran,” Lord Stark insisted. “Go on.”

Jon leaned in towards Bran, placing his hand on his shoulder, “Alright, father is watching.”

Jon looks over and sees Rhaella and Arya watching as well, “and her…” he whispered.

Bran took a deep gulp. He didn’t like to get teased about Rhaella. They only do it because we are to be married. We are just friends, good friends.

Bran nodded and started to aim his bow and arrow at his target.

“Relax your bow arm…” Robb commented.

Just before Bran could release the arrow, someone else’s hits the target and another shoots right through it.

All of the boys turned their heads to see Rhaella and Arya giggling. “Hey!” Bran yelled. The girls both curtseyed but quickly took off once they saw Bran chasing them. The kids kept on playing until their father took all of the boys to see an execution. Bran was finally old enough to see one.

“Are you scared?” Rhaella asked him as he was mounting his pony.

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly.

But I can’t be afraid. My father told me I won’t be a boy forever. I’ll be a man-grown soon. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be brave. Like Robb and Jon. Wolves are never afraid.

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

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ofstoriesandstardust · 11 months

Text

changes (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is the first part of my college!AU. not much happens yet, but things are only just beginning with these two! let me know you're thoughts so far!

part of second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: college!AU, javynat/icemav, swearing

word count: 2.7k

You slip into the classroom, smiling at Pete as he logs in to the computer. “Hey Pete.”

He glances up at you from the screen, returning your smile as you saddle up into the first row of seats in the lecture hall. “Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. How was the last bit of your summer?”

You shrug, tugging your bag off into the chair next to you. “Pretty good. Quiet. How was your trip to Italy with Tom?”

“Pretty good. Nice to get away from the work and hustle-bustle of his job. Definitely don’t miss the paperwork, that’s for sure.” You both laugh lightly, as the door to the classroom open again, a few boys you recognize from the football team filtering in. “I was surprised to see you on my roster for this class. Didn’t you already fulfill the requirements for this?”

You shrug, pulling your laptop out as you finally sit down. “Yeah, but I need a couple more extra credits to stay a full-time student to keep my scholarship and you know I love taking your classes as it is. Might be one of my last chances to do so.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgement as the door opens again. “Remind me after class that I wanted to talk to you about what you’re planning for post-grad.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why?”

He huffs out a laugh, collecting his papers. “I might have something for you.” The room has slowly begun to fill up as the two of you have chatted, meaning class is just about ready to start. Pete hangs by the front podium, letting everyone get settled.

Your eyes glance over your computer screen at the non-existent Canvas page, meaning Pete has yet to publish it. The papers in his hands are what you suspect are copies of the syllabus he probably finished over breakfast with Tom this morning. Typical.

“...dude, this is going to be such an easy credit, I’m telling you.” One of the men behind you says. “He’s just Bradshaw’s quirky godfather. You just gotta say something nice about the Navy and he’ll give you an A.”

You snort, shaking your head at Bradley feeding his athlete friends with lies about his godfather’s class. You had taken enough of Pete’s classes to know that retired decorated Naval aviator or not, Admiral husband or not, Pete welcomed critical and open discussion of the United States military’s global engagement. Encouraged it, even.

One of the men behind you sighs and you hear him lean back in his chair. “All I need is an easy A. Gonna skate through this class no problem.”

“Shit, I forgot my pen. Jake, do you have one?”

“Javy, I don’t even have a notebook. What makes you think I have a pen?”

“Reuben?”

“Sorry Javy, you’re straight shit outta luck. I only have one for myself.”

The man, Javy, groans. “Fuck me.”

“Pretty sure Natasha did just that last night based on the- ow.”

“Hey, psst. You, girl in the front.” You startle, turning around to face the boys. “You got a pen for my friend Javy here?” Reuben asks.

You nod, digging through your bag for your pencil case. “Pencil or pen?”

“Whatever you got’s fine, sugar. Right Javy?” The blond says, nudging his friend. You roll your eyes to yourself, unimpressed.

“Here.” You say, leaning up to hand the black pen to Javy.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back to you at the end of class.” Javy says with a warm smile as he takes it from you.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got plenty.” You say with a wave of your hand, already turning back around. Pete clear shis throat just as you do, catching the attention of the students in the room. He offers them a warm smile.

“Well, let’s get started shall we? I’m Pete. You can call me Pete or Mr. Mitchell, whatever suits you. I’m a retired Naval aviator, served for nearly twenty years. I’m an adjunct here at San Diego State, have been for about the last six or seven years. I teach international relations and military history classes mostly. If you’re here, you should be here for History 2060, Global Military Conflicts Post-1945. If that doesn’t sound correct, you’re most likely in the wrong classroom. Don’t blame you, I got lost this morning on my way in from the parking lot.” That earns Mav a laugh from the classroom as you shake your head. He’s told the same joke on the first day of every class you’ve ever had with him. “I’m going to go around and pass out the syllabus. We can read through it and discuss it. The biggest takeaway is that, unlike some of the other History courses on this campus, I care less about your memorization of dates and people on a test. I want you to take something meaningful away from this class and that’s going to come from the papers you write, the readings you do, and the discussions you’ll have in this class. Let’s begin.”

“Easy A, here we come.” Jake mutters behind you as the stack of syllabus gets plopped in front of you.

He’s in for a rude awkaening, you think to yourself as you take a syllabus, passing it back to the boys.

“Don’t forget. Your first response paper is due tonight at midnight. I want well-thought out papers, with clear arguments and evidence. Feel free to be critical of the text, but you must respond to it and the more you can incorporate the discussion we had in here over the past few classes, the better. Shows me you’re listening and engaged.” Pete calls out as the class packs up.

Two weeks into the semester and you had all just finished reading Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Pete had said he’d chosen the book so you could all understand how these global conflicts could be captured in a fictional manner, asking you to focus on how it communicated a very real history of the event. The book had been supplemented by lectures and class discussion and you felt yourself falling in love with the class everytime you showed up.

“Have you started that paper?” Reuben asks, sliding his bag over his shoulder.

Jake snorts. “Hell no. It’s only what, three pages? I’m gonna start writing it after practice tonight.”

“Javy?”

“Finished it last night.”

“Fucking nerd.” Jake says as Pete calls out your name, motioning you up to the front of the room. It catches the boys attention as you walk around the front row, meeting Pete halfway. The boys are lingering and watching, something you’re painfully aware of.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but are you thinking about grad school?”

You nod. “Yeah, I am, but I think I’m going to take a year off first.”

“Have you thought about SDSU’s program at all?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Kind of-”

“-Who willingly puts themselves through more school?”

You turn catching both Reuben and Javy nudging Jake. You sigh, uncrossing your arms, looking to the ground.

“We can talk more about this at a later date.” Pete says. “I’ll let you go, I know you have to get to work. Good job on the paper, by the way.”

“You read it already?”

He nods, walking back to the table at the front fo the room. “Thought I’d get a head start on grading the ones that got turned in early last night. You never fail to impress me, kid.”

You can't help the grin spreading across your face, even as Jake coughs words that sound oddly like teacher’s pet into his fist.

“Thanks Pete. See you on Friday.”

Jake swallows, staring the 12 out of 100 blinking back at him on the screen.

“Did you get your grade back for that response paper we wrote last week?” He hears himself, asking.

“Yeah, I got an 86. Why?”

“Dude, Pete graded those response papers harder than I thought he would. I scraped by with a 73.” Reuben says, sliding in the booth next to him. “How’d you do Jake?”

He shakes his head, unable to say anything as he stares at the screen.

Reuben leans over his shoulder, looking at the screen before letting out a low whistle. “Shit Jake.”

“What? What’d he get?” Javy asks, craning to see the screen. Jake turns the laptop to Javy, earning him a wince.

“Yikes dude.”

“What am I gonna do?” He mumbles.

He pauses, waving his friends on as you chat with Pete. He fiddles with his phone, trying not to look nervous as he hears you and Pete discuss research you’d done from this summer.

“...I really think you should try to get that published, kid.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know, do you think it could?”

“Oh absolutely. Here, why don’t you hang on for a second and let me talk to Jake and we can discuss it more?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” You give him a nervous smile, stepping a little ways away to give them some privacy.

“What’s up Jake?”

He sighs. “Sir, I was wondering if you could maybe give me some insight to the grade I got on my paper.”

Pete frowns. “Did you not read the feedback I left on Canvas? I’m never sure if my comments save properly.”

“No, I did. I guess- I guess I’m just kind of confused as to why I got that grade.”

“Well, you lacked a clear argument and the paper was riddled with typos. The assignment was only three pages and you turned in a page and a half. You only used one quote, from the first chapter of the book, telling me you didn’t read any further. You didn’t incorporate any class discussion and you’ve only been here once since the semester started. Now, I know I said I didn’t have an attendance policy but if you aren’t here, you’re not participating in the group discussion and that’s a huge chunk of your grade, Jake.”

“Is there any way I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade? I’m on the football team and we have to maintain a 2.8 to stay. It’s my last season, Mr. Mitchell, and I’d really like to keep my starting position.”

Pete sighs. “Tell you what. I’ll let you re-submit the paper for a higher grade if you go to the Writing Center and work with one of their consultants on the feedback I left for you.”

“Sir-”

“Those are my conditions, Jake. For any one, not just you. I want to see that you’re actually working on improving.”

“Well, isn’t it just that… isn’t that place for all the bad writers?”

Pete’s frown deepens. “There’s no shame in asking for help if you need it, Jake. It’s important to me that you know that.”

Jake just shrugs.

“You know, she comes as a very highly rated consultant from some of your athlete friends.” Pete says with a nod of his head over to you. You’re looking at your phone, clearly trying to look busy.

“Yeah, yeah, I think Garcia worked with her last spring.”

Mickey Garcia was Reuben’s room mate, another athlete but on the baseball team. He’d raved about this girl he’d worked with at the Writing Center last spring, helping him get a 93 on a notoriously difficult final for an International Relations class.

“She’s one of the best students I’ve seen in my time at San Diego State. You don’t have to work with her, but it might be nice to have a familiar face and someone who knows the class material. If you do decide to re-submit the paper, just ask the tutor to let me know you were there, yeah? You’ve got a week to get the new one back to me.”

Jake pokes his head through the door, eyeing the room nervously. “This the Writing Center?” Your co-worker Mia pops her head up from the computer at the front desk, nodding.

“Yes, it is! How can I help you?”

Jake looks around nervously. “I have an appointment.”

“Okay…” Mia trails off. “Do you remember with who?”

You shut the room to the storage closet. “Hi Jake.” You say warmly, lugging the Costco-sized bag of candy out to the front table. “I’m just finish refilling the candy bowls if you wanna sit down at one of those tables over there?”

He nods, walking around the front desk to one of the tables, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“Isn’t that Jake Seresin?” Mia whispers, eyes wide. “From the football team?”

You shrug. “I think so. He’s in one of my classes.”

She nods. “Want me to finish doing that?”

You sigh, handing her the bag. “That’d be great. Are you still leaving early tonight?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind locking up the Center.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem!”

You turn back to Jake, whose knee is bouncing as he takes in the space.

He’s nervous, you realize, a stark contrast from the cocky boy you’d known in class.

You grab your laptop, sitting down across from Jake. “Alright Jake, do you just wanna share the document with me so we can get started?”

He wipes his hands on his basketball shorts, nodding as he opens the computer screen before pausing.

“Can I ask how you did on the response paper for class?”

You duck your head, biting your lip. “It wasn’t my best one.”

“What’d did you get?”

“A 94. You?”

Jake swallows, eyes flitting around the Center.

“12.” He whispers.

Your eyes grow wide. “Wait, shit, are you serious?”

Jake nods. “‘S kinda why I’m here. Pete said if I came here, I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade.”

You nod. “Well, what do you want to focus on then?”

Jake shrugs.

“Well, what would be most helpful for you?”

“Could we start by just looking at his feedback and talking about it? I admittedly didn’t understand some of it.”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

The next hour flies by as you work through Jake’s paper, identifying places for him to expand and ways he could utilize evidence. You both worked through Pete’s feedback as you worked to build a better argument based off of it.

Finally, you sit back and sigh. “Well, we’re just at about time. You got any last questions for me?”

Jake shakes his head, shutting his laptop. “Thanks for all your help on this.”

“Yeah, of course. It’s my job.”

“This… this all seems to come so naturally to you.”

You shrug, closing your own laptop. “Yeah, yeah, I mean I’m a senior so I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a lot harder when you’re first starting out.”

“I couldn’t imagine just writing all the time.”

You give Jake a bashful smile. “I’m writing a 30 page paper for my senior capstone.”

Jake cringes at your words. “I couldn’t do that.” He says, rubbing his forehead.

“Hey, you’re already improving. It just takes time to learn how to write in a style like this.”

“I much prefer my Business classes. At least there, it’s a cake-walk to scrap by with a B average.”

“Well, you’re already doing better than me there. I failed Math in high school.”

Jake chuckles, packing up his things. “Hey, uh, Pete told me I needed you guys to tell him I came here?”

You nod. “Yeah, we just send them an email with your appointment form, discussing what we did in the appointment.”

Jake sighs, shoulders slumping. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Feel free to make another appointment if you have any more questions.”

Jake gives an aborted nod, slipping his backpack over shoulder and standing up. “Thanks again.”

He blinks, looking at the grade in Canvas.

70/100

Javy leans over his shoulder at his phone as their coach talks. “Is that the revised grade?” He whispers, Jake nods, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, trying not to think about the comment Pete had left just below the grade.

There was significant improvement here Jake. Please see my comments in the document and on the rubric for further feedback. I highly encourage you to continue visiting the Writing Center throughout the semester. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.

“How you do that, Jakey?” Javy whispers.

He shrugs as Coach Simpson dismisses them. “Does it matter?”

Javy lets out an incredulous chuckle. “I mean, if you went from a 12 to a 70, I’d kinda think you sucked Mitchell’s dick or something.”

Jake middle finger doesn’t stop Javy’s chortle as he leaves the locker room.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #second star to the right (and straight on ‘til morning)

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silvershiningtarot · 1 year

Text

🥲PAC18+ Your FS Wedding Vows🧁🧁

* Take a deep breath. Inhale and Exhale. These are Five Pile! This reading is about your Husband's wedding Vows to you on y'all Wedding day.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥but this is also a channeled message from them as well. Enjoy them! Reblog and Comment.❤️‍🔥🔥💋🍒👅 This is a general Reading.

(Clear Throat)

“Where do I begin, sorry I'm a little nervous. Okay, my sweet darling wife. I'm happy that I'm marrying you today. After everything we have been through the ups and downs. Going back and forth. Even when we broke up we still came back to each other. I'm happy to call you my wife. Haha! I'm not laughing because you are my wife, I'm laughing because I remembered a conversation that we had saying you didn't want to get married but look at you now, with your beautiful white dress. I'm so happy for this day today. I know I am a lot but you always say I am worth it. You always give me the courage to stand up for myself. Even when had bad friends in my life, you still stood by my side. However, you can be a bit of a control freak but so am I. I feel that we are meant to be, I mean Duh that's why we are here. It broke my heart when you left me. I never thought you would come back home to me. But I'm glad you did! I know I get on your nerves, and I'm still going to get on your nerve. But that's just me. Haha 😂 you met me this way. I accept you for who you are. I love you so much. You don't even know how much I do. Thank you so much for being honest with me from the beginning we met. I remembered the first time we met, we were working in the studio together. I love how you rap. That shit is Fire 🔥, just like that pussy you be giving. Hahaha! I'm sorry LANGUAGE!! 😂 I'm fucking having a ball right now. I hope I'm making you laugh too. I remember all the stories you shared with me. I'm happy that I can create more memories with you as husband and Wife. May I say… I DO! Let’s go on and forgive the past, old memories, and all the mistakes we had done before we met each other. That was the old me. Here's the new me. We can fly away for our honeymoon together. I know I keep saying thank you but you are the most precious woman/Man in the world to me. I never thought in my life I can say I had found you. After all these years of bullshit with my ex-girlfriend, friends, and the other outsiders, I can say baby we got our victory. I'm about to cry right now. I was in a dark place before meeting you, I'm glad you didn't. I am in love with you. Since the moment I saw you, I guess you can say it was love at first sight. We are match-made in heaven. Allah had blessed me with a gift like you. Because you are the greatest gift that any man could ask for. Our souls together are free. You & I are free! I'm happy to say that we are. Because I never thought in my life I am free. Whenever I'm next to you, I feel the oxygen in my body. I can finally breathe again. As spouses, the universe is with us forever. You open up my chakras. I've become more self-awareness of the people around me and myself. I know you tell me always give myself credit but I had to thank you. Shine your light on me. Now we both can shine our light together. Everyone will need to put on their shades. You're my best friend, my family, and my wife now. I wanna renew our vows until we are in the grave together or flowing in the ocean. Wherever you go, I go too. Hold my hand forever my wife, until death due to our part, I am forever your husband however, I come down here in 3D dimension. I am your husband or wife whatever gender we decide to be in our next life. I am forever yours. (Clear throat) these are my Vows to you. And My kids love you too. I know you had problems of your own but at the end of the day, I will fight for you. My fighting for you will never stop ever. I don't care if I'm an old man I’ll still knock someone tf out period. You are part of my family. Honestly, I don't give a fuck about anyone else besides you and my kids

“ I'm a little nervous, When I first met you it was my greatest blessing from the sky. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend in past years at that time but I promise you I’ll be the best husband, I can ever be. My sweet darling, your face lights up my world all the time. You are such a beautiful soul. You know what when I ask where did you can from? Not literally like a place I mean from the galaxy. You have such an amazing soul. You are a soul. You made me believe in fairytales because at first, I didn't. I never thought in my life my wish had come true💋. You are my true love. I don't care about what's going to happen in the future. Whatever happens, Happens! I love you so much I'm so deeply proud to call you my wife💋🧸. Man, you are so little. You are short but that's okay. I'm your bodyguard, anybody who messed with you, they'll have to go through me. I'll take a bullet for you. I'll die for you no matter what.💋💋🥲. My prayers have been answered. When I bump into you. I felt my heart drop to the floor. I mean seriously it did. When I first lay my eyes on you, I fell deeply in love with you immediately🙈✨💥. I felt an instant connection with you. I couldn't stop for the life of me, get your face out of my head. You are so special to me. When you walk down the aisle, I fucking gasp babe. Gasp 😱. Wearing that cute pink T-shirt and blue jeans short pair pants. You had me turned on. I mean, secretly whispering this shit to you so. I masturbate when I got home by you. 🤤🤤🍑. I’m sorry, I had to tell you that quietly. I know you laughing right now. When I was a child, I wish upon a star for you, like a woman like you. Now here you are. I want to be your superhero. I wanna save your day, every day. If that makes sense. I know you are such a free-spirited person. It took me a minute to catch you but I’m glad you did. You are my home. Welcome home, baby. I know you didn't want a traditional wedding, but I'm glad we can compromise. I truly want to be yours forever. I am meant to be your husband. I wanted to tell you that you are my soulmate. You are my other half, my forever. You are part of my soul tribe. Right? My soul tribe. Haha 😂. You are my soul family. I wanna take pictures with you, give you babies. Keep renewing our vows in 50 years of our marriage 💍. I wanna dance until the sun comes up. I wanna cuddle next to you forever. I don't want anybody else but you. Kissing my chest, touching me, saying grand rising to me. Cooking me breakfast. Even arguing with you. I just want that with you. My Goddess, I fucking worship you. Tell me something, my dear, would you still be here with me today? I know we have other soul contracts with other people. But your problem is my problem. My demons are your demons. I wanna face them with you. I wanna have a new life with you. Like a child, and teenager, all up to my adult old life. Haha 😂 I know I sound hilarious but this day standing with you, I can never forget it. This memory with you is forever in my soul. I'll remember you again, even in our next life I'll remember you. I believe that even in my next life with you, I'll remember our wedding day. The memories we shared when were dating, relationship, and up until now. I want our kids to carry our legacy. My sweet 🧁 how can I ever forget that face of yours? I cried because I was this close to giving up on us. You are still my starlight. I can't wait to grow old with you, even if you outlast me, or I outlast you. I cannot forget this life with you. You are my dream girl. My wife Mrs. I'm happy to call you that. You gave me a whole new perspective on marriage, life, and loving myself. You bring me so much joy and happiness. However, I do want to say Thank you! For Accepting my flaws. Dealing with my life drama, the media, and my past. Some people couldn't handle any reputation but you did. I love you so much, I am going to continue loving you for the rest of my entire life. My favorite hero. Do you know why you are my hero? Is it because you are safe my life? I don't know how you did it but you did it. I love it.”

“You still gave me butterflies in my stomach. I wish that I met you earlier. I know it was divine timing. But you are my blossom🌸 🍒. I'm so dedicated to you.”

“Baby, pick up your glass and say We DID IT! Baby, we fucking made it through. I'm super happy and excited to learn every lesson with you. Even when we have our kids. I faced a lot of battles with you, we went through a lot of ups and down together. I was depressed before I met you. When I saw you I looked at you, I was so happy and excited to be with you. When I saw you. But my chicken ass was scared as fuck. But I love the way you laugh, smile and make fun of each other. When I first kiss you, it was a match made from heaven for you. My god, I wanted to scream out to the world and say MY WIFE KISS ME!! (laugh) I know right. Laugh it's okay. I love you. Make me feel so godamn special. How you are not amazing. I mean when I see you that day sipping that coffee. In my mind, I was like I gotta talk to you before I missed my chance. I'm glad I did talk to you. Because you're my wife now. Even before you say I Do you were still my wife. I recognize your face before. It was like damn did you incarnate yourself for me? Like just for me! I am the luckiest man/woman on this earth. My greatest gift was you being my wife. On our wedding day. I remember when I was overly possessive over you. Still am! Don't you forget it? I wanna keep getting you pregnant over, and over again. Maybe about 4 or 7 kids I wanna have with you. If that's okay with you my love. You help me through my nightmares. I used to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. You kiss my forehead telling me it's okay. I felt super safe. You are my Safe-haven. God! I'm just so excited. I’m crying right now. I'm sorry💦, for getting emotional. You make me cry all the time. In a good way, you do. Wow, you gave me your virginity. I felt like the proudest man/woman. You know all of my secrets, secrets I haven't told anyone about. Only you. You're my cupid. My darling, you help me forgive my family, my friends, and shit even my coworkers you did that. I don't care if it sounds like I'm giving you way much credit. But yes! I am. I am your husband. I have always been your husband. No matter what. ❤️💋🫦For some reason I wanna go between your legs and start. (clear throat) I'll say that on the honeymoon. You make me feel so special. I can't describe or explain how special you make me feel. I don't feel like a superhero but I feel like a villain that wants to do the right thing but still fucked shit up. 🤣 I remembered the argument we had you had called out my bullshit. I mean fuck! At first of course, I was very defensive. You are strong. I mean you are a strong-head woman/man. I never thought that anyone could accept me for who I am. I've grown up to be the man I want to be for you. My precious star ✨✨✨. You shine so brightly with me. I like that. That doesn't mean you can't shine on your own. I love it when we shine together. I love that you keep your individuality. You are so original. God! You are so fucking smart. I mean you are such a fucking genius. Look how incredible you are. When you walk down this aisle, I was like yes! My perfect match is here with me. I know you were scared 😱to marry me. But I'm glad I change your mind. I was wondering if you are interested in renewing our vows again. About 40 years or 10 years into our marriage. I know you always say future changes but I don't care, I honestly feel like I've been married to you. When you told me you were in a relationship with someone else I was pissed off. I was like who tf is this dude/ girl touching my wife/husband? I'll knock his fucking head on his body. But I kept it together. I did it, in a gentlemanly way by being polite. So I'm proud of myself. Will you still give me more than one kid? I love seeing you pregnant. Even now I do. I got your name tatted on me. Do you know what's so crazy, the funny thing is people always talk shit about us. But LOOK AT US!! Hahaha!! My baby or should I say, my babies. I'll always protect you. Always and forever. You are my champion. I'll never forget that. NEVER! I love you. I wanna build a whole life with you. My baby 👶🏾, it is like you are my first kiss.”

(Chuckle 🤭)

“Wow, you still make me blush 🤭☺️. I'm blushing right now. It's like I'm back in high school. Staring at my crush. My hero. You complete me from the moment you came into my life It was like a breath of fresh air for me💨. I mean do you get that? I'm not trying to be disrespectful. You see how much you mean to me. You change my world upside down. It was like a big whole transformation you did for me.💥it was like a big earthquake🙀you shock my world up. Should I say you shake my world🌍. I'm glad you did. I saw people fall off like fucking flies baby. Wow, thank you for giving me clarity. ☺️You had opened my eyes 👀. I had a spiritual awakening. I never thought I had known so much of the truth about my life. I had a major breakdown, crying in the middle of the night. You were there holding me. Telling me to purge my tears. For days I was in a dark place but you help me. I just want to say thank you. I know we going to trigger each other, even now we do. But I'm not worrying about that. I feel like I am the happiest man on earth. Fuck yeah, I am. I told you that you complete me. I've prayed for you, even when I didn't know you. I still prayed for you. I know you say that I helped open up more but the truth is we helped each other. (crying) I'm so fucking happy that you are my partner. Not like partners in crime. Like my actual partner. You standing beside me. I know that you're my ride or die. Look at your belly. It getting big that's the family that we created together. I wanna design our baby's bedroom together. I wanna design our bedroom together. I feel so happy. I know that this might sound like a fucking dickhead move but I don't care. You are better than all the past exes that were in my life. What I mean by that is I wished I didn't learn from them. Because I had got hurt. I had awakened you and you had awakened me. I was very scared for a second, I had run away from you. Again I won't do that anymore. I know I did that before when were dating and I made some mistakes in the past. I'm glad you forgive me for them. So do I. You told me not to feel guilty about it. Look how amazing you look. My zing! I know I feel like Johnny from Hotel Transylvania. Other people were like Dracula trying to separate us. But I’m glad we don't have to worry about other people's problems anymore. I won't go any further than this but I wanna say. I hope in the next life together you're my wife there. We meet quicker this time (laugh) 😂. Plenty of people call me delusional and fake and fucking disgusting names but I didn't believe them. Because who the fuck is they. I'm glad you told me nobody else runs my life but me. I know I get down hard on myself. Because I forget sometimes for being human. But I have you bring me back down to reality. You are the most important part of my life. You are the most important part of my kid's life. My nieces are my kids. You are welcome to my life. That's crazy that you had welcome me into your life. It was amazing🌍. I had manifested you, it was like bam💥 I had wished upon a star 💫💫 then a shooting star flew across the moon. I saw that it was you. You Flew across the moon. My angel. My precious angel 😇. You are an angel who fell from heaven, come to save me. Emotionally, mentally and spiritually. You are very special to me. You are so loving. I learned how to balance my emotions and my business life. Sometimes I get too personal. But you are here to help me and keep me on track. Thank you so much. My hero. MY FUCKING HERO! You save me, baby. I wished that you came earlier but I know wasn't in the right head at that time. You probably would've left me. In the beginning, I would've been a dickhead about it but in reality, I would've understood. Anyways sorry for this long ass speech but my baby thank you for saving me. Again you complete me. My hero, my special hero I'll be your hero and your magician. I'll cast some spells on you. I love you, my wife. I'm hearing a song in my head I would like to sing to you real quick.” (Clear Throat)

“I told you when I met girl, I would need patience, you said you understood so I thought you could take it. We have a really good thing, nothing should come between us. I'm not telling you to wait, I'm not telling you to wait on me.”

“That's a song I wanna sing to you. I love you. I'm not telling you to wait but I'm glad you waited for me. Took me a minute but I got it haha 😂. You are my hero, my star shines on you. I looked up at the sky and go on my knees and pray for you. You are such a heaven of above. Again my nieces love you so much. You help me so much. You are my good luck charm. I wanna sing another song to you again. May I?”

“I got so much love for you in these arms, don’t you know your my good luck charm. You and me forever girl in these arms. Don't know you are my good luck charm.”

“ My diamond 💎💍, you fix my broken heart💔. You did. I'm glad for your help. I love your energy, smile, and your aura I know that sounds the same but you know me I like to be colorful with my shit. Haha 😂 my wife. Our day is very important to me. I'm glad there's no other man other than you but me. There's no other woman than you. You are the only one for me. Me only. I don't care if that sounds selfish, possessive, or clingy I don't care, you had met me this way. 💋 You amazed me every time I looked at you I feel free. I feel like a new me again. I wanna sing a song to you. “When I look at you, I see forgiveness. I see the truth, you loved me for who I am Like the stars hold the moon. Right here we belong and I know I'm not alone.” That's the song I wanna sing to you on our wedding day. I know it was embarrassing. I know I'm not much of a singer but hey I hope you still like it. I will always try to impress you. I've always tried to impress you. I mean come on you’re my favorite person in the more. You are my twin flame I never knew what that means until I felt you before in my dreams. I kiss you in my dreams and almost had sex with you in my dreams. I mean I do have sex with you but then after that, It disappears. I have a breeding kink. I wanna keep getting you pregnant over and over again. I feel so amazing. I want you to carry my son. I wanna have a lot of boys with you. I know I have other kids on the side. Woah, that sounded dickheadish but that's not my intention. But I want a boy so I can take them everywhere and fucking check on his attitude and wear matching outfits with him. Listening to music in the car. I know our son isn't here yet but I still want to make him inside of you. You are my wish fulfillment. I know people think that you are a dominant woman but that's okay I like it when you dominate me. But anyways I don't wanna get too sexual. I fall so deeply when you walk down the aisle. In that beautiful white dress. You are so pure, and innocent. Like my angel. All I saw was you. Nobody else in the room but you. For sure I was nervous asking you to marry me. When I first propose to you, I was yikes maybe I should put the ring back but fuck it I already bought it. Haha. You know what I mean. Anyways for all the past pain we had gone through. I fuck babe it was hell. All the inference was just a fucking headache. I mean GODDAMN!! I was like can we catch a fucking break! Geez! But sorry no need to go down memory lane real quick. I love you so much, baby. You are my favorite person in the world to me. You made me feel what happiness feels like. Give you all the kisses in the world. Your soul and mines are the same. You and I are Twin Flames. I know keep saying that but we are. As your husband, I married my soulmate and my other half. My precious diamond 💎💎🌍. You were so hard to find but I'm glad that I found you, took me a long time to search for you but I did. I fucking did. Again we came a long way but I'm glad we went through the ups and down together. Everybody was saying too clingy to you, possessive, and overly protective but I don't care you are my diamond. My cupcake. I never felt this happy. Of course, my kids make me happy but you as my romantic partner make me so happy and fulfilled like wow my special queen. My angel blesses me every time. I have a song for you. I wanna sing it to you so May I?

“My whole life has changed since you came in. You were that special one, I'm so in love so deep in love. You made my life complete. You are so sweet.”

“That's my song to you. I know we pick our song together. But I just wanted to sing to you. I love you so much. I know I keep going on and on with the speech but I'm glad you are here with me today as my wife. You are the best person in the world to me. Thank you for opening me up. 💋💋💋”

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

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My Future In You | 1.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, angst, drama etc etc, enemies to lovers if you wanna call it that, no major warnings in this chapter

…

“No, I dated someone with that name.” Bradley decides, shaking his head as he sips on his Diet Coke. You narrow your eyes at him.

“If we’re going to rule out names because of your love life, our kid is going to end up with a name from the seventeenth century.” You complain, grabbing some fries as you look over the girl’s side of your list.

Bradley chuckles softly, amused by your comment. He squeezes your ankle.

“Fine. Let’s talk boy names first because I have one that I really would like.” He tells you, stroking his thumb tenderly along your calf. You’re both sitting on your bed, you by the headboard and him with his back to the wall, your feet in his lap.

“Okay.” You nod your head at him.

“Nick.” He decides.

You scoff as you grab your drink and sip from the straw, “Sure, if I’m giving birth to a middle aged man with credit card debt and a wife he hates.

Bradley stares at you.

“I mean — that’s an old man name. Baby Nick? — It sounds like he’s balding already.” You reason with him. Bradley’s lips quirk, amused by you trashing the name so much. He knows something you don’t. You stare at him, trying to figure out why he’s looking at you like that.

It hits you.

“Oh shit, is that your dead dad’s name?” You gasp.

Bradley shakes his head and strikes a line through the name, “The world has been without a Nick Bradshaw for like eighteen years, I guess it can go a little more.”

“I’m sorry.” You wince.

Bradley shrugs, lifting his napkin to wipe his hands, “Let me hear your names.”

The two of you go back and forth, sharing names and insulting each of them in turn. You throw yourself back against the pillows, draping an arm over your face, groaning in frustration.

“Our kid isn’t going to have a name, they’re going to be baby Seresin for their entire life because we can’t agree on anything!” You growl.

“Baby Bradshaw.” Bradley corrects you, sipping from his straw, still looking down at his own list. A pillow hits the side of his head, almost making him drop his sprite. He turns his head and raises his eyebrow at you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, honey.” He comments, throwing the pillow back, his lips quirking as it hits you in the face. You bolt upright and glare at him.

“Pregnant or not, I’ll kick your ass.”

Bradley’s lips tilt upwards into a grin. He sets his drink down and shrugs his shoulders, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been attacked by a Seresin.”

He’s such a cocky asshole when he wants to be. You set your list down and push up onto your knees, shoving at his chest.

Bradley smiles. He lifts his chin, smirking at you defiantly. There’s a split second where he thinks that you might just take the leap, lean forwards and kiss him.

“Hey…”

Both of you jump apart and turn together. Ryan’s standing in the doorway, one strap from his backpack on his shoulder. He looks between you and Bradley. Both on your bed, notepads pushed to the side. You’re on your knees, your hand is on his shoulder.

A muscle in Ryan’s jaw ticks.

“Am I interrupting?” He says quietly. He’s a pretty patient guy, and he really likes you - he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. But, at some point, he passed the need to jump and has now arrived to the conclusion all by himself.

“No!” You leap up from the bed. Bradley has the sense to grab both notebooks and pull them onto his lap, then close them both.

“Ryan, how’s it going, man?” Bradley starts to push himself up from the bed. You turn quickly and glare at him. He closes his mouth and remains on the edge of your bed.

He sits silently and thinks about how he should have kissed you and taught your boyfriend to take a hint and back off.

“What’s going on, baby?” Ryan’s voice is soft, tender. Bradley stills, realising he wouldn’t have reacted that way. Bradley’s eyes fall down to look at the sweater covering your developing stomach. He looks back up at the Ryan’s softened expressions.

He just came over to find his girl sitting in bed with another guy, and he’s still giving her the benefit of the doubt.

That’s probably the kind of guy that would be a good influence around a baby.

It might not have been Bradley’s first instinct, but Bradley can be like that too. He’s certain of it.

“Bradley needed tutoring, the idiot failed Public Relations twice now.” You tell Ryan. He looks at Bradley. Bradley smiles stiffly and nods his head — the idiot comment is something to address later.

“You’re… tutoring him?” Ryan looks between the two of you, unbelieving. You nod your head quickly.

Solely in the interest of proving that he isn’t an idiot, Bradley flicks back a couple of pages in his notebook and holds up the notes for Ryan to see. They’re from when Bradley was tutoring someone a while ago, but the different pen colours and comments sell the story.

“Oh.” Ryan nods softly as he looks over the page. His gaze flickers back to you. You smile sheepishly at him.

Bradley stands up finally, “Well, I should go. Thanks for the help. I’ll see you on tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Ryan asks, looking at Bradley instead of you.

“Oh, it’s Jake’s birthday — they’re having a thing over at their place.” You explain, watching Bradley step past Ryan and out into the hall.

“You didn’t mention.” Ryan comments. Bradley cocks an eyebrow at you. Kind of odd that you didn’t invite your boyfriend, in his mind.

“Well, you’re invited, obviously. It’ll be fun.” You force yourself to smile at him.

“Guess I’ll see you both there.” Bradley smiles.

The hour drive home gives him time to think. He knows you and Ryan are probably arguing right now, and that it’s somewhat his fault. It’s not his fault that you refuse to tell your boyfriend.

Bradley had a realisation the other day. Ryan has been spending most of his time at your place. Almost every day from what he hears. Sure, there’s a chance that this is because of how much you guys like each other. Bradley thinks otherwise. Your parents still aren’t talking to Jake, which means they absolutely aren’t speaking to you. Bradley hasn’t seen you shed a tear about it since before New Years’.

Ryan’s a distraction.

By the time Bradley’s home, he has a couple of texts waiting to open. Most notably, one from Kenzie - last Bradley heard, she had a boyfriend. Clearly not anymore because twenty minutes later, he’s letting her in and she’s leading the way to his room. She remembers where it is.

Bradley can’t pretend that he hasn’t missed her. Kenzie’s a great friend. But, she and Bradley hook up regularly when they aren’t seeing other people, so she tends to disappear each time she gets a boyfriend.

And each time they reunite, it’s just as good. Bradley groans softly as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to catch his breath. Kenzie pulls open the top drawer to his nightstand and grabs the box of tissues. She wipes her chest off and moves to put the box back.

She frowns slightly.

“Um… Bradley,”

Bradley lets out a heavy breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead, lifting his gaze to look at the girl beside him in his bed.

“What’s this?”

He knows exactly what she’s talking about the moment that she asks the question. He sits upright quickly and glances down, like he doesn’t know.

Truthfully, he had forgotten that it was in there. The spare sonogram photo that he was meant to pass on to Jake. His is safely hidden behind his driver’s license in his wallet.

“I have no idea.” Bradley decides that’s the best answer to go with.

Kenzie turns to look at him and raises her eyebrows in disbelief. He glances down at her bare chest in a moment of weakness and immediately realises that he has just made the incorrect choice twice in a row.

“Oh my god! — What is the matter with you?” She shrieks, leaping up from the bed and grabbing her underwear from the floor.

Bradley takes a moment before he answers this question.

“It’s not what it looks like,” He tells her, shifting to the edge of the bed and standing up. He grabs his boxers and pulls them up his legs as she searches for her jeans.

“It looks like you got someone pregnant!” She bites back.

“Okay, well… I did, but-“

“Oh my god!” She shrieks again. Bradley winces at the sound. She throws her jeans at him, he narrowly dodges and frowns at her.

“I am not a homewrecker, Bradley! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this! — I could kill you right now!”

“I’m not dating her! She has a boyfriend! — I barely know her, she’s just Jake’s little sister.” Bradley realises how bad that sounds as he’s saying it, but he commits to the sentence anyway.

“You got Jake’s little sister pregnant and he let you live?”

She’s a cheerleader, she knows about the team and its intricacies. She’s also a lot smarter than people give her credit for, and she knows Bradley well. She knows that he and Jake barely get along at the best of times.

Truthfully, he might make every bad decision he can, but Kenzie loves Bradley. She gets him. She has sat with him in the library more times than she should have. She’s hurt that this is the first she’s hearing about this.

“Just about.” Bradley chuckles in agreement. He lifts her jeans and extends them towards her as somewhat of a peace offering.

She shakes her head and snatches them out of his hands. Bradley scratches the back of his neck sheepishly as she steps into them, knowing that he’s in trouble. Kenzie zips and buttons her pants, then folds her arms over her chest.

“She’s keeping the baby?” She asks curiously.

“Uh-huh. Due at the beginning of August.” Bradley nods his head.

Kenzie stares at him seriously, then raises an eyebrow, “And… you’re going to be involved?”

“Yeah.” Bradley mumbles.

Kenzie steps forwards and wraps her arms around his waist. He hugs her uncertainly. She pulls back and looks up, then presses her index finger into his chest, her face stern.

“You need to get your shit together.” She tells him seriously.

Bradley frowns slightly.

“I mean it, Bradshaw - if you screw up this kid then I’ll personally hunt you down.”

His face softens as he understands what she’s talking about. He leans his head back and sighs, she steps away from him and pulls one of his t-shirts over her head.

“Her new boyfriend has his shit together,” Bradley mutters, reaching for his shorts and stepping into them. His head hangs low, he’s not meeting her gaze. “He’s a photographer, musician - he’s got a job lined up after graduation, here in the city with her. I’m going to be halfway across the country. Even if I was here… I’m starting to think he’d be a better dad than I would.”

“He probably would be.” Kenzie agrees. Bradley lifts his head and frowns at her. It’s harsh, but it’s what he needs to hear. “Well, I assume he would be. Because he’s with her, and you’re still being a little boy, screwing around.”

His lips part. He scrunches his brows together, hurt, “What am I supposed to do? - I can’t come between them, she would hate me.”

Kenzie sighs.

“I’m not telling you to come between them, idiot - because you’re right, she would hate you,” Kenzie explains herself. Bradley shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “But, she might start to trust you a little more if you grow up and stop hooking up with random girls.”

“You’re not rando-“

“Just prove to her that you can give her some stability. I’ve been saying this for months - you’re holding yourself back. Pull your head out of your ass, grow up.” She says sternly.

Bradley nods uncertainly.

“Okay. Now, don’t you dare text me unless it’s an invitation to the baby shower.”

His lips quirk slightly, he gives her a small nod. Kenzie pushes up onto her tiptoes and kisses her cheek, then leaves him.

Bradley spends all night thinking about what she said. He didn’t want to grow up. He wanted to be selfish. He spent twenty years trying to hold it together and be as good as he could for his mom, he didn’t go to the academy - he went to college, he cared for her when she was sick. Without complaint, and he would happily do it again. That’s why he never felt guilty for his behaviour recently.

He had begun to realise that it’s easy to be selfish.

After everything he had been through, Bradley figured he deserved the easy route.

But then he found out about the pregnancy, and he agreed to step up. It’s just that now, he’s starting to realise what that means.

He leans against the kitchen counter as Jake greets his guests. You arrive with Ryan and it’s clear that something’s wrong. Bradley’s brows furrow, your cheeks are flushed and slightly blotchy - you’ve been crying. You split off from Ryan and corner Jake as soon as you arrive.

Bradley watches. Jake doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He grins at you, hugs you, the two of you talk happily for a few minutes. Then, Jake takes the gift bag from you and you turn off towards the downstairs bathroom. He leaves his drink on the counter and follows after you.

“Slow down, hey - hey,” He calls to you. You groan and lean your head back, resting a hand against your abdomen as you slow down and turn to look at him. Bradley’s eyes fall down to your hand placement, then widen. He reaches out for you, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine! I just need to pee, really bad.” You shift impatiently on your feet, wondering how you’re going to take almost five more months of this.

“Is something up with you and Ryan? - You look upset.” Bradley says softly, stepping closer to you. You sigh.

“He thinks I’m lying to him, and I am, and I just feel like a fucking awful person. I need to tell him and I can’t do it. Okay? - Can I pee now?” You groan out, turning away from him before he gets a chance to answer. You lock the bathroom door behind you.

Bradley glances back over his shoulder, finding your boyfriend making himself a drink in the kitchen. He looks back at the bathroom door, and then makes his decision. All of this stress isn’t good for his baby. He’ll do the hard part for you.

He turns and walks into the kitchen, certain in his decision.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Bradley asks softly.

Ryan rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his drink, “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

As far as he’s concerned, your older brother’s friend has a crush on you and is trying to ruin what you have with him. Ryan doesn’t like Bradley and he isn’t going to pretend that he does.

Bradley narrows his eyes. He doesn’t like your boyfriend’s tone. Nor does he like the look in his eye as he glares at him.

There goes the plan to do this nicely. Bradley changes his mind on how he’s going to deliver this news.

“I was thinking that you and I should probably get to know each other a little bit better,” Bradley explains, leaning his hands against the counter. “Since we’ll probably be spending a lot of time together.”

Ryan scoffs quietly.

“How do you figure that?” He asks. He does not plan on spending any more time than absolutely necessary with Bradley Bradshaw. He’s just here because you asked him to be.

Bradley keeps his gaze on the party.

“Oh, you know — because of the baby.” He explains calmly, clearly. There’s no room for misinterpretation. Bradley makes sure that Ryan hears what he says.

Ryan stills. He pulls back and turns his head towards Bradley, brows scrunching together, in confusion and annoyance. He wants to smack that smug look off of Bradley’s face more than anything and he really isn’t a violent guy.

“What? — What baby?”

Bradley shrugs his shoulders and turns his head, stoic and far too confident for his own good, “Mine and your girlfriend’s.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ryan stands up straighter and squares his shoulders. Even like that, Bradley’s still a head taller than him. Bradley’s ego soars as he stands upright and squares his shoulders in the same way, towering over Ryan.

“Oh no, she didn’t tell you?” Bradley says gently, lips quirking upward into a smirk. Ryan’s brows scrunch together. Bradley shrugs his broad shoulders, “She’s starting to show, man — I dunno how you haven’t noticed.”

Bradley says the last part lowly, stepping slightly closer to Ryan. He gets the reaction he wants, Ryan shoves hard at his chest. Bradley smiles at him, silently daring Ryan to make one wrong move here.

Jake, in the middle of a conversation, does a double take. His eyes widen slightly as he finds Bradley and Ryan in the kitchen, glaring at each other, their shoulders squared and their chests pressed together.

“Fuck, hold this.” Jake shoves his drink into someone else’s hands and rushes for the kitchen.

“You’re lying.” Ryan shakes his head, frowning. Bradley pulls his wallet from his front pocket and opens it. Ryan’s eyes land on the sonogram picture, his lips parting slightly. His heart sinks. His gaze flickers back up to Bradley’s. He sets his drink down on the counter and turns.

“Ryan, wait.” Jake sighs.

“Fuck this.” Ryan’s voice cracks slightly as he waves Jake off and heads for the door. Jake turns to Bradley and narrows his eyes at him seriously.

“We had a deal.” Jake whispers angrily.

Bradley shrugs his shoulders and sips at his beer, “He needed to know.”

…

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut

694 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 7 months

Note

So I just reread the fic about Jules birthday, and I’ve always liked the part where Remus tells Jules that he’ll always be more important than hockey. Could you write a fic about that if you haven’t already? Like Remus leaving in the middle of practice or something like that? Idk it’s up to u:)

Fic O'Ween Day 3: Midnight! Read more amazing works from these prompts at @noots-fic-fests and of course, character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW illness (coughing, mentioned vomiting, fatigue)

Remus leaned against the countertop for support and stared at the floor. “But he’s okay, right?”

“He’s okay,” his mother answered. She sounded beyond exhausted.

Remus nodded and rubbed his fingers under his eye. The night suddenly seemed so much darker. “How’re you and dad? Taking time off?”

“We’re alright.” He knew that low edge to her voice—it was the same one his own took on when he was trying to hide his hurt. Silence fell over the line.

“Mom.”

“Your dad can’t get PTO this week and neither can I.”

She cleared her throat; he closed his eyes. “Can Leanne keep an eye on him?”

“Visiting her daughter in Florida.”

No parents, no neighbors, no way they’re getting a babysitter for a sick kid… “I’ll be on the next flight.”

“Remus, no.”

“There’s nobody else—”

“Honey.” He could see the way her eyebrows drew together in his mind. “Honey, you’re on the road this week.”

“I know.”

“In Montreal.”

“They can handle a couple games without me.”

“You’re practically a rookie, Remus,” his mother insisted. After a pause, she lowered her voice. “You’re not going to damage your career when we can get a babysitter, or—or I can find a couple days off. Hell, your dad’s got a pullout at the office he can rest on.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Remus John, you have a responsibility to your team.”

“Jules comes first.” If there was one thing Remus would stand by no matter the circumstances, it was his family. The Lions would survive a roadie without him. Jules would never be alone and sick on his watch.

His mother was silent for a long time.

Remus picked at a chip in the granite. “There’s no babysitter that will watch him, is there?”

A sigh traveled down the line. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby. Give Sirius my best. Sleep well.”

“I will,” he lied. The call went dead and he turned, bracing both hands against cool stone. Sirius’ footsteps were soft, his hand gentle. Remus sniffled. His chest was a vise. “Mom says hi.”

Slow circles pressed between his shoulder blades. “What happened?”

“Jules got the flu, and they can’t get time off work to stay home with him.” Fucking assholes in fucking corporate. Remus swallowed around the clog in his throat. “Sounds like he’s pretty sick.”

“Does he need to go to the hospital?”

Remus shook his head. The hand on his back slid down and wrapped around his side, guiding him to lean on Sirius’ chest. “Do you want me to book your flight while you call Coach?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He didn’t let go. “God, I hate being so far away.”

Sirius’ other arm came around him and held him tight.

Remus and his father talked the whole ride home from the airport, and said nothing at all.

The house was just as he left it at Christmas. No snow remained, and little frost—crocuses peeked out of the lawn where the squirrels had snatched and buried them.

Apologies for the late notice, but due to a family emergency, I will be in Wisconsin until the 22nd. Thank you for your understanding.

Rapid responses. Cranky responses. Remus had tried to keep a level head, even through the tremor of his hands on the computer keyboard. The organization wasn’t happy with him, but when were they ever?

It didn’t matter either way. Fine or not, suspension or not, they weren’t going to stop him from making chicken soup and raspberry Emergen-C for his sick little brother. He was damn lucky to have Arthur on his side, easing the retribution from men in offices who had hardly bothered to meet him at the start of the season.

“Your mother’s worried.”

Remus glanced up from his hands. His father was facing forward, brow pinched while he pulled into the driveway. “Yeah.”

The engine turned off with a sputter. “Be gentle, okay?”

“It’s not your fault they wouldn’t give you time—”

“Be gentle.”

Remus bit the inside of his lip and nodded. A goldfish cracker peered out at him from the crevice by the door. This passenger seat always made him feel so small. He slung his backpack out of the seat well and stepped out, letting the crisp air nip his face and bring him back. He needed to come back more. The heartache had lessened, and distance was simply exhausting now. Running fast and far to Gryffindor had seemed so smart before.

The front door still squeaked when he turned the doorknob. Remus was glad for that, at least.

His mother smiled when she saw him. “Hi, baby, how was your flight?”

“Hey, mom.” It was good, he started to say, only to have the words fall from his mind the moment she stepped around the kitchen table and wrapped him in her arms. It’s been a lot I love you I missed you how are you where’s Jules—“Uneventful, thankfully.”

“Good, that’s just the way you want it.” She gave a little sway, one hand cradling the back of his neck. He felt a light pulse of pressure. Her back, ever tense, relaxed slightly. “It’s so good to have you home.”

Remus breathed deep. Lemon-scented cleaning spray and drugstore shampoo, laundry detergent and just-sharpened pencils. He pressed his nose tighter to her shoulder and felt her squeeze him, just a little. “Missed you.”

“Oh, Re,” she sighed. A hand rubbed along his spine for a few hard, grounding, wonderful seconds. Warmth seeped in around his edges. The floor was solid beneath him, the walls sturdy. A kiss found his temple. “Baby, we missed you, too.”

A rattling cough made him wince. “Jeez.”

“I know.” Her face crinkled into a grimace when they separated and she looked back down the hall. “That started up two days ago. Poor thing. Keeps him up at night.”

“Aw.” The cough was followed by a rough throat-clear that made Remus frown. “Fever and everything?”

“102, as of this morning.” Hope ran a palm over his shoulder, the way she tended to right after he came home. Remus tried not to think about that too hard, or else he made himself sad. “You’re sure about this? You could get sick. It’s the middle of the season.”

Remus tried for an encouraging smile. “My immune system’s great, mom. I’m in good shape, I take my multivitamins. Eat my Wheaties, and all that.”

“Hmm.” She scrutinized him for a beat. “You better be.”

“I’m basically indestructible.”

Her laugh bounced off the corners of the house like it always had. “Let’s not get hasty, hon.”

“Mom?”

Remus’ heart sank.

“Dad?” Jules croaked, a little louder. “Did the neighbors come over?”

“Hey, J,” Remus called. The floorboards gave a light groan when he set his bag down at the end of the hall. “It’s me, bud.”

Silence followed. The bathroom nightlight was on, casting the hall in gentle blue. His hand drifted toward the first door on reflex (cool metal knob, lock on the inside, jimmy it three times in the winter when the frame sticks), but he managed to step past it and knock lightly below the ‘J LUPIN. DO NOT ENTER.’ sign scotch-taped to the old wood.

“Jules? I’m opening the door.”

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Stale, sweaty, feverish—Remus did a double-take without meaning to.

“Jesus Christ, dude.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” Jules rasped from somewhere to his right. “Hey. Hi, why are you here?”

“You slept too long. It’s June. I’m here for the summer.”

“Hey.”

“You’re sick, dummy.” Remus tried to be subtle about propping the door open wider with a loose hockey glove. “I’m taking care of you.”

With the new, faint light from the hallway, he could see just how terrible Julian looked. His unconvinced squint didn’t help the sallowness of his skin or the heavy bags carved under his eyes. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh, you have a roadie in—” Another hacking cough interrupted him. It shook his tiny frame hard enough to make his knees bend under the covers. Remus’ heart gave an acid lurch.

Agitated heat radiated off him to the point that Remus could feel it when he perched on the edge of the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess; one blanket half-tucked, the other mostly on the floor. “Deep breaths,” he soothed when the coughing turned to a few aggressive sniffles. “Take it easy.”

“Montreal,” Jules finished in a mutter. He wiped his nose on the edge of his baggy t-shirt (almost certainly their father’s, with the way it dwarfed him) and laid back with a long huff. “You got a roadie in Montreal. Dad ‘n me are gonna watch the game.”

“Dad and I.”

“Shhh.”

He smiled to himself and tugged the top blanket down to shimmy the next one into position. “Well, you and I can watch it. How’s that sound?”

“No, you need to play,” Jules groaned, but even that was weak. He curled onto his side and peeked out of his huddle, dull-eyed and flushed. “How come you’re here anyway?”

“Told you. I’m taking care of you.”

“But hockey.”

“But you.”

“But…hockey.”

“But you.” His stomach gave a little pull. “You’re more important than a couple games, bud.”

Jules didn’t look like he believed him. “…okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re R—”

“Don’t you—” Remus bit back his words (and his grin) and whacked lightly at the outline of Jules’ legs under the blankets, coaxing a crunchy sort of laugh from him. “Watch it. I’m in charge of feeding you for the next few days.”

Jules’ giggling trickled out with a last sniff. “Mom and Dad gotta go to work, huh?”

“Yeah.” The wrinkle of his nose was almost certainly reflected on Remus’ face. “But hey, we’ll have fun.”

“Mmm.”

The air shifted, along with his gut. Jules’ breaths were heavier. His eyes, lidded. His forehead was far too hot against the back of Remus’ hand when he checked it. “Tired?”

“Mhmm.”

Wrapping him in a dozen blankets and cuddling him as tight as possible wouldn’t help. Logically, Remus knew that. The temptation was still there. “Too hot?”

“Warm.”

“Want me to take a blanket?”

Jules shook his head. His eyes were closed fully now. “Weight’s nice.”

Every inhale hitched when Remus rested a hand between his shoulder blades, feeling for his pulse. That, at least, was calm. Jules had sweated through the old grey fabric there. He combed a few strands of hair off his burning brow and swallowed around his dry throat. “Want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“Gonna nap.” Jules’ twitched, as if he was trying to readjust but lacked the energy. “Here when I wake up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

The evening passed without issue. Night rolled in with a gust of wind that hissed across the windowpanes while Remus dried the last of the dishes. Jules had managed to get up and come to the table for dinner, but he had looked even worse in the brighter light and barely ate half a bowl of soup. He could see their mother struggling not to fuss over him, not that Jules had any oomph to give real protest.

What kind of family emergency is this, Lupin?

A family emergency. I can come back the 22nd.

You’re missing two games. Do you understand that? Weasley won’t play you for the third, either.

I understand.

Is this a funeral?

No.

A wedding?

No.

It’s a request for nonvital time off, then. This could very well result in a fine.

I’m aware of that. Time off for a family emergency is covered in my contract. I’m permitted to miss four games.

Are you really going to put in a request for this? For a nonvital midweek trip instead of two NHL games?

That’s precisely what I’m requesting, yes. This is an emergency and therefore it is vital.

Remus had not missed the bureaucracy of the NHL during his time on the ice. There was still administrative irritation, of course, but it had not been nearly long enough since he played email tag with someone determined to make his life harder. ‘Nonvital emergency’. It made him want to laugh and lose it at the same time. What a fucking joke.

A sudden rustle and thud—likely Jules’ elbow hitting the wall between their rooms, ouch—startled him from half-sleep. Clumsy footsteps pattered on the floor; a door creaked and closed, quickly followed by a dry heave. Remus winced in sympathy.

This bedroom felt too small. His feet touched the end of the bed if he stretched out. There were only a few inches’ allowance for his shoulders on either side before he hit a wall or the edge of the mattress. Even his stuff felt smaller, as if the books shrank in his hands and the trophies had been made for someone Jules’ size.

He supposed they had been. Juniors was a world away, these days. He had turned the idea of keeping a potential you-know-what ring here instead of in Gryffindor, but never really committed one way or another. That, too, felt far off. He was stuck in the middle of a spectrum, where nothing felt quite right.

The toilet flushed, but he didn’t hear Jules leave. The low timbre of their father’s voice buzzed in the hall for a second; he didn’t catch Jules’ response. Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed with a huff and stood despite the creaking protests of his knees.

The blue light looked eerie in the cover of real night. He propped Jules’ door open again as he passed. A little ventilation couldn’t hurt. He paused in the doorway of the bathroom and crouched down, lowering himself to the cool linoleum with a soft groan. “Sup?”

“M not gonna throw up again.”

“Okay.” Remus flexed his ankles against the cabinets and tilted his head back. The soft towels buffered him from the wallpaper. Next to him, Jules’ forehead was stubbornly pressed into the crease of his elbow where he rested it on the toilet seat. “Still sick?”

A wordless mumble answered him.

“I’m gonna make chicken and dumplings tomorrow.”

Jules weakly raised his head. “Really?”

“Yup. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch. All that good stuff.”

Quiet fell over them for a long moment. “What are you talking about?”

“What, you don’t want a science lesson?”

“Nerd—”

He knew it was going to happen before Jules’ first jerk forward and caught his side when he wobbled, giving gentle pressure until he was upright. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I got you.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. You’re doing great, J.” It was over as fast as it started. Jules trembled lightly under his touch, sweaty again, all too warm again. His knuckles stood out in harsh midnight shadows where he gripped the porcelain, thin arms shivering.

Jules sniffled. “I wanna go to bed.”

“I bet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Can you stand up?” It took Jules a moment to even start moving; when he did, it was sluggish and unsteady. Remus hovered his hands close and resisted the urge to scoop him right up. Jules wouldn’t like that. He hated being babied. It was still fucking hard to watch him pull himself to his feet.

A rinse-and-spit and a cool washcloth on the back of his neck made Jules sigh. He leaned right into Remus’ hip, head at the base of his ribs, and staggered along on foal legs while Remus guided him back to bed with a lump in the base of his throat. There was no fuss about being tucked in—he simply sighed again, so content it hurt. Remus smoothed out the hem of the comforter by his neck just one more time, once more, just so he could be sure.

Their parents were out by the time Remus woke. He distantly recalled the sound of them leaving, but the plane left him groggy enough not to notice or care. Jules was still snoring loud enough for him to hear it through their shared wall.

Breakfast, then. Something light. Oatmeal or eggs, if he could keep it down. Broth, if not. Remus would have to check the fridge for Gatorade and lemons.

It was strange to be functionally alone in the house. The carpet felt too soft, the curtains too still. A bright pink sticky note was stuck to the table with his name written in big letters at the top. He’d check it later.

Message To: SB <3

Morning :)

Fever’s still going, nasty cough, the works. I’ll keep an eye on him today.

Miss you

He clicked his phone off and set it aside—hopefully, Sirius wouldn’t be awake for some time yet. They didn’t have practice for two more hours in his time zone. He liked to sleep in on days like that. Remus, on the other hand, had work to do.

Quick eggs and bacon for himself took fifteen minutes. He parked himself at his usual seat without really thinking about it, pulling a dish towel and a fork from their drawers with an absent mind. He hadn’t dared to check his email yet and seriously contemplated leaving it alone until he was back in Gryffindor. Time off was time off. Professional hockey wasn’t big on ‘work from home’.

Jules shuffled in half past ten and made a beeline for the couch.

“Good morning.”

A grunt answered.

“Sleep well?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Want oatmeal?”

Jules’ mumble seemed vaguely affirmative. Remus set the kettle on and dug a pot out of the cupboard, then turned to rummage in the pantry. This was setting up to be a silent morning.

Measuring for a sick preteen was almost as strange as picturing his childhood bedroom as a normal size. Remus had only cooked for himself for years, then himself and Sirius, with the occasional potluck dish for a team dinner or holiday party. A single cup of anything was a novelty. “Want sugar?” he checked once the oats and milk were simmering. Jules snuffled in response, dragging one of the knit blankets further over his head. “Lemme check your temperature and then you can tell me, yeah?”

“Mmkay.”

A quick search of the medicine cabinet revealed no thermometer, and the same went for the hall closet. Remus spent a good five minutes riffling through the bathroom drawers and Jules’ desk before he found it propped against the base of his dolphin lamp. It had been left uncapped; gross. He made sure to give it a thorough wash before moving back into the living room.

“Blanket down.”

“No.”

“I can’t see your mouth. C’mon, just for a second.”

“Cold. Bright.”

“Twenty seconds, J. I promise. You can count.”

The blanket lump shifted. “Twenty?”

“Fifteen. Then I’ll bring your oatmeal over and leave you alone.”

A handful of shallow breaths filled the silence before Jules’ forehead poked out, then his glazed eyes, and finally the lower half of his face. Remus grimaced. His nose was red and chapped from tissues, and a faint crack split the side of his lower lip. “Have you been drinking your water?”

“Fifteen seconds,” Jules slurred.

Remus knew he wasn’t getting a better number than yesterday. Not with this vague lucidity, and not when Jules was hardly able to hold a fragment of a conversation. All the same, it made his gut sink when the thermometer beeped.

“Whuzzat?”

“102.5.”

“ ‘S worse?”

“Yep.”

A resigned nod told him Jules expected as much. The blanket swallowed him up again. Remus pulled it down over his feet before heading back to the kitchen.

Three hours passed with all the rush of a snail on codeine. Jules rallied to choke down his oatmeal before going down for a noon nap, let Remus rouse him to gulp down about a gallon of water, and overall remained sedentary while Remus channel-surfed for anything even slightly interesting on daytime TV. They settled on NCIS from one to 2:30, NCIS: Miami from 2:30 to four (with a brief break for sandwiches, or toast, in Jules’ case), and rounded it out with NCIS: LA while Remus tossed some rotisserie chicken and chopped vegetables in a simmering pot of broth.

“Re?”

“Yeah, bud?” Bisquick puffed over the side of the mixing bowl in a soft cloud.

“My stomach hurts.” Jules’ voice wavered. “And my mouth feels weird.”

Fuck. “Bathroom, hustle.”

The glimpse he caught of Jules before he vanished down the hall confirmed it: pallid skin, dilated pupils, sweat gleaming on the back of his neck. Remus rinsed his hands in the sink and dug the box of Pepto Bismol tablets out of his bag, and sent a silent thanks to whatever small mercy it was that left him without a reactive gag reflex.

He spent twenty minutes sitting sideways with water seeping into his pants from the bathmat. “I’m gonna throw up until I die,” Jules whined, pressing his forehead to Remus’ palm.

“You’re not gonna die. Definitely not while I’m here.” He slid his hand around to press against the nape of Jules’ neck and gave a light squeeze. “You’re almost done. Work it out, buddy.”

“Gonna miss the game?”

Despite the sweat, despite the illness, despite it all—Remus smiled. Of course Jules would be thinking about that when he looked like death warmed over. He wouldn’t be a Lupin with anything else on his mind. “We’ve still got half an hour.”

Jules gave a faint push back into his hand. His lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, but it wasn’t even slightly funny. He took a shuddering inhale and sniffled again, harsher. “I don’t want to be sick anymore, I don’t, I’m so done, I don’t like it.”

“Jules…” The redness had flooded his cheeks and ears, inching down his neck with each horribly choked breath. Jules’ eyes were bright, but not like usual. He blinked and a drip tracked down his nose. His exhale wasn’t much of an exhale at all—it wracked him, made him sway. “Oh,” Remus murmured. “Oh, hey, c’mere.”

The edge of thirteen had left Jules gangly, all bones and joints. He still fit just right in the hollow of Remus’ chest and arms. A shivering, overheated mess, but a mess that fit all the same. Fuck it, Remus thought as he tightened his arms around Jules and let him fall apart in the safe dark. He didn’t care if he got sick. This was the most vital emergency he could possibly think of. If the administration had a problem with that, he’d happily turn his gear in before leaving Jules to burn through this alone.

“I’m tired,” Jules whispered through shuddering breaths. “My head hurts ‘n my stomach hurts ‘n everything else, too.”

“I know, bud, you’re being so brave.”

A damp, wounded noise made Remus wince.

“But hey, you haven’t thrown up in, like, five minutes.”

Jules felt around blindly for a tissue and blew his nose several times before answering. “I guess.”

“You ready to get up? Have some dinner and watch the game?”

“Dizzy.”

“Okay.” He pressed the wrinkles out of Jules’ shirt with his palm and felt him go limp. “I brought some super special secret hockey medicine, if that’ll help.”

“…is it Gatorade?”

“No, but we have that, too.” He rattled the box next to Jules’ ear. “Pepto Bismol. My secret weapon.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s the pink sh—stuff.”

“Nice save,” Remus said dryly. “This is the same. It’s easier to keep down, though. And it works faster.”

“Makes my stomach stop hurting?”

“It might help.”

He waited a beat, then two. A clammy palm extended from the tangle of limbs near his middle. He dropped two of the chalky tabs into it and loosened his hold by a degree, enough for Jules to pop them both in his mouth and frown immediately. “Yuck. It’s crunchy.”

“Keep chewing.”

“Why is it coming apart like that?”

“Keep chewing,” Remus repeated through a light laugh. “Doesn’t work if you talk the whole way through.”

Jules tucked his legs closer to himself, pushing him further into Remus’ lap. As horrible as the past twenty minutes had been, he seemed better for it. The fevered sheen to his face wasn’t quite as nuclear. His breathing sounded more even and controlled.

“You finished?”

“Mhmm.”

Jules might have looked better, but Remus didn’t have the energy to fight the coddling urge this time. He slid his free arm across the back of Jules’ knees and hefted him up like a cat gone boneless, and received no protest whatsoever. Instead, Jules curled into him with a long, relieved sigh. Remus’ heart may have shattered a little.

The pregame show was just wrapping up when he set Jules gingerly on the couch and pulled the blanket around him. Half of his waterbottle was gone in a few desperate swallows; Jules wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and all but collapsed onto the throw pillows, a heap of exhaustion. The belltower by the middle school tolled six. His sandy hair was damp at the root when Remus passed a hand through it. They’d fix that eventually. Fluids first (hockey first), then everything else.

New Message From: SB <3

Heading to the rink. Miss you love you : )

Remus smiled down at his phone as he set Jules’ bowl on the coffee table and folded himself into the armchair.

“Tell Sirius I say hi.”

“He’s literally right there,” Remus laughed, gesturing at the TV. “He’s not gonna see it for ages.”

“Still.” Jules poked around with his spoon for a few seconds before attempting a small sip of broth. An approving nod followed. “It’s good.”

“Glad it meets your standards. Eat. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch.”

Jules’ eye roll was weak, but very much present. “I know, I know.”

“You gotta know that stuff.”

“I’m not gonna be a doctor.”

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna be a person.” Remus cut a dumpling in half with the side of his spoon. “If you don’t know how to feed yourself by the time you move out, I’m totally making fun of you.”

“Whatever.”

They both booed when the Habs skated out, and cheered when the Lions appeared soon after. Jules couldn’t muster much more than a rough whisper, but the soup and a bottle of Gatorade seemed to help. Remus made him get up and stretch during the first period intermission (to immense complaints, but eventual acquiescence) before letting him rest while he washed up in the kitchen.

New Message From: SB <3

First period up.

How’s J?

New Message To: SB <3

Haha yeah we’re watching

Temp’s high, still pretty sick. Getting better tho

Made soup

The response was almost immediate. Remus’ heart skipped at the thought of Sirius glued to his phone even after a rough period, just to chat with him.

New Message From: SB <3

Oooo jealous

New Message To: SB <3

Yeah you should be

It’s a real rager up here

Miss you. Go get ‘em.

A simple heart and hockey stick emoji followed. The grey bubble cycled for a moment before disappearing. That would be the midgame meeting. Remus was glad to be home—wouldn’t trade this—but he had to admit the hockey ache was still there. Even easy choices had consequences.

By the time he looked back, Jules was asleep. Remus checked his forehead as delicately as he could and was pleased to find it slightly cooler than that morning, if altogether too warm. The pattern of creaky floorboards laid a map in his bones as he moved through the house: first to open Jules’ window, then to let his blankets air out, and while he was at it, he may as well wash the sheets. The nightstand and bookshelf needed to be wiped down. It wasn’t hard to get that done while the washer rumbled on the other side of the hall. In the meantime, the soup had cooled enough to pack up in Tupperware to stack in the fridge for later. Who knew if Jules would suddenly get his appetite back? The kid was a bear when he was hungry.

He lingered for the end of the second period and swapped the sheets into the dryer at the start of the third with a cookie and a cup of Emergen-C for himself. He damn well better not catch whatever germs Jules had percolated from the hellscape of middle school. Sirius had called him ‘stubbornly healthy’ on too many occasions for it to be disproven. Besides, the administration might actually fire him if he came back from an emergency and was immediately out for three more games.

“Re?”

The sound of a quiet voice took Remus’ off-guard in the last few minutes of the third period. “What’s up?”

Jules shifted around until he could prop his chin on the throw pillow and blink blearily at Remus. “Did we win?”

“Game’s still going. 4-3, Lions.”

“How much time?”

“Just under five.”

Jules attempted a whistle, though it came out as more of a shaky breath. “Almost there.”

“Dad texted. They’ll be home in a few, traffic was rough.”

“Oh, okay.” A small smile lit his face. He burrowed back under the blanket. “That’s good.”

“They’ve been asking about you all day.”

“Did’ja tell them I was fine?”

“Something like that.” Sort of. Maybe. He had been gentle about it, at least. Gory details would only make them panic.

He made sure to poke Jules awake for the last minute of the game before shepherding him down the hall to brush his teeth and shower. It was only 8:30, but Remus felt weary all the way to his core. He made Jules’ bed while the water ran and tried to tuck the sheets in along the wall a little deeper this time, just in case one tried to end up on the floor again. If he had the time, he may as well do it right, pinched fingers notwithstanding.

It was all worth it when Jules trudged back into his bedroom and threw himself into bed, only to gasp aloud. “Aw, man, this is great.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus laughed.

“Oh, wow.” The bumps of Jules’ feet kicked happily under layers of fabric and down. “It’s all warm, and cozy…”

“Get some sleep,” he reminded him, and turned out the big light. “If you need anything, I’m right next door.”

He made it halfway across Jules’ carpet.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You—” The faint outline of Jules’ head was backlit by his lamp. Remus could see the shadows of his hands fidgeting with the top blanket. “Will you…can you tell me about the soup stuff? The proteins and all that.”

Remus hesitated. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Jules said with a surprisingly enthusiastic nod. “It sounds cool.”

“I mean—yeah, sure. Uh…” Jules’ desk chair looked wildly uncomfortable for this time of night, so edge of the bed it was, he supposed. The sheets provided a nice cushion when he sat. “Okay, have you ever heard of macromolecules?”

“That’s a made-up word.”

“It’s what you’re made up of, actually. How about DNA? You know that one?”

Lyall opened the front door with a muttered curse for the bitter wind and the worse traffic. It was brutally unfair that the one day he tried to come home early, everything went to hell and kept him an age and a half longer. What kind of karma came after a father trying to get home to his sick kid?

“It’s awfully quiet,” Hope remarked behind him. The door opened at last; warm air rushed over them. “Boys? Are you up?”

The NHL postgame show was playing at a low volume, next to a plate with crumbs on it and a mug so old the pattern had washed off it. One of Hope’s blankets from her knitting phase was haphazardly piled on the couch. The evidence of both of them there, present and accounted for and safe, plucked at his heartstrings. “Why do I feel like this is exactly where they sat for the entire day?”

She shook her head. “Good for them. I’m jealous. Remus? Julian? Are you home?”

Remus’ bedroom door was closed. The bathroom fan was still on, and steam clung to the corners of the mirror next to a still-damp towel. It couldn’t have been long since they went to bed, then. Lyall pushed Julian’s bedroom door open wider and covered his mouth with his palm.

They had nearly rendered each other invisible, save for Remus’ legs stretched over the side of the bed and Julian’s arm resting atop his pile of blankets. Julian’s congested snoring drowned out the heavy, even rhythm of Remus’ breathing. As far as he could tell, only one of them had actually been prepared for bed.

“Oh my goodness,” Hope whispered at his shoulder. Her grin was radiant, even half-covered by her palm. “I don’t want to move them.”

“Re’s going to wake up with one hell of a side cramp if we let him sleep like that.”

“You do it, then.”

“…no.”

Hope scoffed fondly and tossed her hands in the air, then kissed him on the jaw as she stepped deeper into the bedroom. The whole place felt lighter, Lyall noticed. Julian had been holed up in here for two days, refusing to come out for anything but necessities. Whatever Remus had done, it worked wonders.

“Remus,” Hope singsonged in her quietest voice. She shook his shoulder, soft enough that for a moment, Lyall forgot Remus wasn’t a toddler anymore. “Baby, you need to wake up. It’s bedtime.”

“ ‘M asleep,” Remus mumbled without opening his eyes. “In my bed.”

“This isn’t your bed, lovey,” she laughed. “Come on, up you go.”

“Goin’ to sleep, promise.” His eyelashes fluttered, nose crinkling. “Talking ‘bout—‘bout proteins. Jules wanted to know.”

At the head of the bed, Julian didn’t show so much as a hint of waking. Lyall stepped forward and braced his hands under Remus’ arms, then hoisted him into a sitting position as gently as he could manage with the unexpected weight of an athlete to counterbalance him.

Remus jolted, startling into consciousness. “Woah—”

“Shh, shh.” Lyall helped him stand on clumsy legs and guided him to the door with a last playful glance at Hope. “I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Fell asleep.” Remus blinked hard. “Jules’ bed. Wanted me to stay. Time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Oh, god, ‘s early.” A yawn overtook him, spilling more of his weight into Lyall. He didn’t seem to know where his own feet were, but he went easily into the room next door.

“Alright,” Lyall huffed as he helped Remus stumble toward the bed and splay over the mattress. That old thing was definitely too small for him these days. Funny, how times changed so rapidly. That same bed used to make Remus look like nothing more than a pile of sheets. “Brush your teeth?”

A drawn-out snore answered him.

Lyall smiled to himself in the darkness and ruffled the back of Remus’ hair. “Night, Re.”

A single socked foot twitched in response. That was good enough for him.

(Jules’ fever broke the next morning. By the end of the day, he was well enough to go with them to the airport and give Remus the fiercest goodbye hug either of them had experienced, with a pinky-promise that the Lions would win the next game he played.)

#remus lupin #julian lupin #sirius black #lyall lupin #hope lupin #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o’ween 2023 #illness #sickfic #lupin bros #hurt/ comfort

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babecoups · 2 years

Text

friends & lovers || j. wonwoo

Happy Birthday Summer !!

↠ title: friends & lovers ↠ pairing: jeon wonwoo x female reader ↠ genre: fluff | smut | best friends to lovers | idiots to lovers ↠ summary: Sometimes the love you’re searching for has been right beside you all along. Patience is the key…the right moment will present itself eventually. ↠ rating: 18+ ↠ word count: 2.2k ↠ warnings: swearing | unprotected sex (reader is on the pill) | restraints (wrist pinning) | grinding/dry humping | clit stimulation | slight orgasm control | cumshots | crying | begging | love making | soft sex | pet names | nipple play | cum play | aftercare ↠ a/n: Happy birthday Summer @yutasthetic !!!! I hope you enjoy this small gift. I tried my best so I hope you like it lol. Thank you for putting up with me for a year and some change lol. Also, a huge thanks to Beezy @hobeemin for reading and cleaning this up for me. She helped me with all this and kept the secret so half of the credit does go to her. I love you both so much !! Summer, enjoy your day, love !! ↠ playlist: My Boo by Usher ft. Alicia Keys | Focus by NCT 127 | ‘bout you by Seventeen | Let Me Hold You by Bow Wow ft. Omarion | Tonight I Celebrate My Love by Peabo Bryson & Roberta Flack | Candy by Baekhyun | By My Side by JUNNY | Boo’d Up by Ella Mai | Like You by Ciara & Bow Wow

“People are staring at us.”

You both giggle as the carousel makes its final round, shyly peeking over your shoulders at the crowd of people watching you. Somehow, Wonwoo managed to get the ride operator to start it up with just you two on.

Both of you hopped from seat to seat like you used to do when you were kids, and your parents had to threaten to take you home if you didn’t remain seated. Although you’re adults now, you’re still fond of the old habit.

“So, let them,” you shrug. “Maybe they’ve got eyes for the cutie on the horse.”

“Can you stop?”

Wonwoo throws his head back when he laughs and clutches his stomach, giving you a glimpse of the smile you haven’t seen in months.

Ever since he and his girlfriend broke things off, he’s been cooped up in his apartment, feeling down and not wanting to be bothered. You’re glad he accepted your offer to go to the fair and take his mind off things. He says he’s fine and looks better than he did five months ago, but you know that something’s still bothering him, and you hope that tonight you can dig deep enough to find it.

“Why would I? This is fun.” You both step off as the ride stops, feeling high off of adrenaline and bliss. Suddenly, you feel his fingertips at your sides, and he playfully tickles you, making you shriek and squirm. “Wonwoo!”

On-lookers coo and clutch their chest, mainly older couples and romantics. Neither of you even notices the admiration they have in their eyes until someone grabs your attention.

“You two are such a beautiful couple. May my husband and I have a picture with you? You just remind us of our younger selves,” a lady in her golden years asks with a genuine smile.

Immediately, you begin to break the news to her, but Wonwoo interferes.

“Oh, ma’am, we’re not—”

“Sure! I’ll take it. I have long arms,” he insists, taking her phone when she hands it to him. Wonwoo throws his arm over your shoulder and holds it high enough to capture all four of you. He takes the picture but doesn’t stop there. “Now one for us.”

After returning the woman’s phone to her and her husband, he pulls his device from his pocket and takes another, but this time he brings you in a bit closer. He wraps his arm around you a little tighter and whispers in your ear as he snaps the picture.

“For new memories,” he says to you.

You release a shaky breath when you disperse, and you can’t do anything but smile and wave as the couple bids their farewells.

You never could explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever Wonwoo would be so close to you in that way. It always seems so intimate, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. You know it’s only those buried feelings that are causing you to react this way and nothing you should feed into.

When you’re finally alone, you turn to him and ask, “So, what now? Are you ready to go?”

“A little bit,” he answers.

“Well, don’t let me hold you up. I’m probably just gonna go grab something to eat until my roommate’s done fucking her boyfriend. I had fun, so thanks for coming—”

You pause when Wonwoo shakes his head.

“I said I was ready to leave here, not leave you,” he informs.

“Oh, okay. So umm, where do you wanna go?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he quizzes. “We can go grab something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he continues.

“Or…we can meet at my place, and we can order something. You can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I don’t mind,” he assures.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you—”

Your mouth closes when he gives you a look, but your smile grows when he turns away and starts walking towards the parking lot.

Both of you get in your vehicles and drive towards his apartment, the tingling sensation still coursing through your veins. You try your best to calm yourself before you get there, but as you get out of your car, your legs are wobbly and shaky, indicating that you are far from okay.

Wonwoo turns to you as his door opens.

“Wanna shower?”

You sigh and accept gratefully. “Yes, please.”

After a shower, slices of pizza, and movies, you and Wonwoo lay awkwardly in his bed. Both of you scroll through your phones, trying to ignore the thick tension in the air. There’s something on his tongue; you can hear it. You want to ask him, but you don’t know how.

Eventually, you start to believe it’s just your nerves. You haven’t hung out like this since before his two-year-long relationship, so you figure you just need some re-adjusting. You wiggle your way towards him so you can familiarize yourself with the feeling of being so close to him.

It isn’t long before his fingers start playing in your hair, making your eyes slightly heavy. You roll over on your back so you can look at him and try to stop yourself from falling asleep so quickly.

His smile greets you and leaves you slightly curious.

“What?” you giggle.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighs. “I missed you. That’s all.”

When his eyes begin to wander aimlessly, you follow them once they’ve set on a particular sight. It just happens to be your thighs, and you start tugging down your borrowed shirt upon the discovery.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, more to himself than anything.

You clear your throat. “Wonwoo, I’m glad you’re feeling like yourself again, but I don’t think I can be your rebound. I’m not—”

“What? No, love. It’s definitely not like that. It’s just…Fuck it.” He shifts in his spot so he can speak to you face to face, leaving you no option but to look at him, even though you’ve been avoiding eye contact since you got here. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s about the breakup…why it happened,” he explains.

You blink a few times. You never knew the reason behind the split or how it happened; it wasn’t your place to ask. Now that he’s finally telling you, there’s an uneasy feeling growing inside of you.

“We broke up because we liked other people. She wasn’t over her ex, and I…”

“And you?...”

He takes a deep breath as if he’s about to lay it all on the table.

“I had to be honest with myself and admit that I’m really in love with my best friend,” he confesses.

Your eyes widen, lips ready to run a mile a minute, but he speaks before you do.

“I thought about this before, but the timing was just never right. And now…” he sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like we’re on the same page, but then again, you’re looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Wonwoo, I—”

“I know. You don’t feel the same.”

The disappointment in his voice gives you all the courage you need to come clean, and you do so before you can change your mind.

“I do feel the same,” you admit. “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers. I just never knew how to tell you.”

He seems a little shocked after hearing this.

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

“Yeah.”

Your best friend just stares at you, not saying anything. You hold his gaze and never break eye contact. Moments go by like this, until eventually, his lips begin to hover over yours. They become more inviting the longer you lay there waiting for something to happen.

However, Wonwoo toughens up and makes the first move on your behalf. His mouth presses against yours delicately, and he lowers his body so that you can run your hands through his hair.

You envelop each other and get lost within the first shared kiss between two best friends that have been denying their love for one another for over a decade. The pit of your stomach goes into a frenzy as the butterflies rise and flutter wildly.

Dizziness clouds your mind as you’re swept away by the feeling. You’re light as a feather, so high that coming down seems impossible.

It doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s lips have become greedier, and his desire is growing by the seconds. Your legs part to allow him in the space, and he takes the opportunity instantly. Your wrists get pinned above your head while he slowly begins to grind his crotch against yours.

A moan slips out, and he takes the chance to invade your mouth with his thick muscle. Your tongues begin exploring each other’s crevice, and you become drunk off his taste. You can’t get enough of him but the need for oxygen exceeds your lust-driven fantasies.

“I want you,” you say without much thought. Your breathing is labored and rough, but you still try to speak. “I need you.”

“Fuck, same. But…”

“But what?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No condoms.”

His voice oozes with need, and his bulge is straining against his shorts. He’s as desperate as you are, but he’s trying to hold back.

“We’re good on this end. It’s okay,” you assure him. “Are you?...”

He nods. “Yes, of course. I haven’t since…”

“Well, can we?” you try again. “Please?”

“Okay, baby.”

Wonwoo lets go of your wrists and pulls down his shorts, letting his dick spring out freely. A small gasp escapes you when his length slaps your thigh. You lift your head to see it and instantly become mesmerized by its girth. You crave it and want it to fill every inch of you just like you’ve always fantasized about in your room alone.

“Like what you see?” He smirks when you nod and starts to run the tip up and down your slit, coating it with your arousal and secretly stimulating your throbbing clit. “Let’s see if you can take it.”

When he slowly enters you, your mind goes completely blank. You arch into him as he bottoms out, and he holds you and places kisses up your neck.

“Wonwoo,” you call, and he smiles against your skin.

“Ready for me?”

“Yes, please. I want to feel you.”

Wonwoo’s movements start off strong, and he makes sure to hold you in place while he thrusts into you, preventing you from flying off the bed. You cry his name over and over with each powerful snap of his hips.

He lifts your shirt and exposes your breasts to his greedy mouth, taking his time with each stiffened peak and making your eyes roll back from the multiple sources of pleasure you’re receiving.

The coil inside you tightens until it can no longer stand the pressure, and you blurt out a warning to inform Wonwoo of your orgasm.

“Wonwoo, I’m so close!”

“Me too, baby,” he moans in your ear. You run your nails down his sweaty back to ground yourself because it feels like your soul will leave your body any minute. Wonwoo goes deeper and deeper until you can no longer stand the build-up growing inside of you. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And on his command, your body gives in, and the pleasure takes over you. Tears roll down your cheeks, but Wonwoo kisses you before the salty droplets can reach your trembling lips. Your entire body is set aflame by the heat coursing through you. The intense feeling leaves you a panting mess beneath Wonwoo, and you just lay there as he fucks you through the rest of your orgasm until he finally reaches his release.

“Fuck, where can I?”

“Anywhere you want,” you answer. “I don’t mind.”

He can only nod as he pulls out and paints your stomach with his warm cum. Wonwoo uses the tip to smear his arousal and spell his name on your skin, making you giggle and slap his arm.

“You’re nasty,” you tell him.

“Anywhere you want… I don’t mind,” he mocks but still leans down to kiss you.

You pout when he pulls away and disappears into his bathroom for about a minute. When he returns, you’re grateful to see him with a warm washcloth and a new shirt for you. He cleans you up and helps you change before he turns out the lights and joins you in bed. Neither of you say anything at first, but eventually, he can’t hold his tongue anymore.

“I really am in love with you. I would have never done this had you not asked. You’re more than a rebound—”

“I know that, Wonwoo. We’re good, okay?”

You turn on your side so you can hug him, and he nestles in your embrace.

“So, are we keeping this a secret or…?”

You release a breath before you answer, absentmindedly playing in his brown locks. You think about your answer for a moment, and then you reply.

“As much as I want to keep you all to myself… I’ve waited all my life to call you my boyfriend.”

“So what does that mean?” he asks shyly.

“It means…” You tilt his head so he can look at you. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them the truth.”

Wonwoo smirks at you and returns to his position buried in your chest. He whispers as he drifts into his slumber.

“That’s my girl.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #kvanity #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfics #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfics #seventeen fluff #fromthebabe

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septembersums · 2 years

Text

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑫𝒂𝒚 11 | 𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

summary: you’re learning the well-deserved aches and pains of moving in with gojo satoru. he’s learning that he likes your domesticity, maybe a little too much.

an:: i haven’t written a domestic or nice gojo in agessssss but today is the day to start apparently! also dear god all of my fics are going to have a breeding kink thing please just accept that for what it is

House hunting with anyone is difficult, but house hunting with Gojo Satoru was an entirely different beast that you never realized you'd have to deal with. A six eyed one, who is hellbent on spending a small fortune on a house for two people.

"What about this one?" He asks, turning his phone screen over to you.

On the screen is a listing for a goddamn mansion. 8,000 square feet, three stories, eleven bathrooms, a movie theater, an arcade, the list goes on. It looks like a celebrity home for a family of about... fifteen people.

You give him a concerned glance, "Satoru, that house has thirteen bedrooms."

"Yeah," he answers, confirming it enthusiastically, "and a pool."

You resist the urge to laugh, "Let me rephrase... Why would we, as two people, need a house with thirteen bedrooms? Babe, that's basically a hotel."

"What if we have twelve kids?" He asks, giving you a serious expression, even though a smirk threatens to tug at the corners of his lips.

"We are not."

He continues, cutting you off, "God forbid Satoru the eleventh and Satoru the twelfth have to share a bedroom. They'll kill each other."

"No. Okay," you sigh closing your eyes, "I love your enthusiasm, but I'm not playing the hypothetical game with you because it never ends, and--"

He cuts you off with a kiss, chuckling against your lips. His arms encircle your waist, pushing you down onto the couch beneath him as he shifts himself on top of you.

"I don't know why you wanna raise our fourteen kids in a shoebox--" he says, kissing your neck between his words.

"Fourteen now?" You ask with a gasp.

"Fifteen. But okay, I'll look at regular houses, too," he concedes, running his hands up underneath your shirt, "not tonight, though. God, scaring you gets me hard."

"What a concerning thing to say-- ah!"

He's already snuck his hand into your pants before you can argue, and as per usual, neither of you picked a house that night.

Eventually, you were able to talk him down to something slightly more modest, more fit for the two of you (and just the two of you, not the fourteen or fifteen babies he proposed you have).

It’s not that you hated any of the mansions that he offered to buy, it’s just that you’d like your home to feel a little more homey, a little less easy to get lost in.

When you bought your house in the city (still extravagant, of course), and wanted to repaint a couple of the rooms, Satoru already had professional painters on speed dial. When you suggested that the two of you do some of the renovations yourself, he looked at you like you’d shot him in the chest.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” you say, “this place needs some character, and I’d be embarrassed if a bunch of strangers saw the sex swing.”

It does need character. Right now, it looks like you bought it right out of a better homes magazine. You feel weird when things are too pristine and too manicured, like you’re living in a model home.

Having a team of professional renovators moving in and out of the house for the next few weeks seems less than ideal, too, considering that you and Satoru tend to fuck like rabbits day and night.

“I can’t think of anything less fun than manual labor,” Satoru argues, wrapping his arms around your waist, “and if they ask about the sex swing, I’ll just tell them you put me in it when I’m getting on your nerves.”

“Oh, really? Why don’t you go get in it now then?”

His grin widens, “You mean it?”

You elbow him gently, furrowing your brows before continuing what you were doing before he intervened to bug you. You’re holding up two different paint swatches against the wall of your bedroom, unable to decide which looks better.

“Which one do you like more?” You ask Satoru, whose chin is propped on your shoulder.

He hesitates for a second, “... Those are exactly the same color.”

“Huh?” You gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What do you mean? They’re, like, two shades different.”

They’re both close to white, but slightly different shades of white. One is more cool toned, the other is slightly warmer. You picked them out at the store earlier, so you’re sure that they aren’t the same.

“Baby,” he hums, wrapping his hands over yours, “not to pull rank here, but one of us has the best eyes in the world,” he pries your thumbs away from the bottoms of the slips of colored paper, “and the other one has been trying to choose between moonlight white and moonlight white for half an hour.”

You audibly gasp when you realize that he’s right. Printed at the bottom of the slips of paper is exactly the same name, twice. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, because you could’ve sworn you were looking at two different shades this entire time.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You rasp, dumbfounded, “and... how did I not notice?”

“I thought you just needed to see it twice for some reason,” he replies with a shrug, laughing, “it’s been a long day, let’s just go to bed.”

You concede after that, seeing as it’s already past midnight, and standing here clearly isn’t doing you anymore favors than riding him in your new bed would.

The next day, you start painting a couple of the rooms together. And while Satoru eventually agreed that he was willing it give it a try, that never meant that he wouldn’t whine the entire time. Which he does, because of course he does.

Satoru is many things: he’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, he’s the (self-proclaimed) best teacher in the world, he’s also hilariously fucking bad at housework.

It makes sense that he wouldn’t really know how to fix a sink, or paint a wall, or hook up a t.v. His childhood was spent surrounded by servants, while he spent his time outside training, and fighting, and training, and fighting.

Put him in the ring with the greatest martial artist of all time, he’d win. Put a paint roller in his hand, and he just squints at it for a good thirty seconds before handing it back to you.

He doesn’t know how to be domestic, and at this point, he’s afraid to learn. But he’ll do it for you-- at the very least, he’ll give it a try for you.

Letting you call the shots right now is the least he could do, after making you wait ages for real commitment from him, after getting panicky and distant when you spent the night for the first time, after you’ve loved and taken care of all of the jagged parts of him that are so incredibly, irreparably broken.

Maybe it’s out of some fear that he’ll eventually lose you, too. Maybe that’s why he tries all these normal, domestic things with you that would never cross his mind if you were anyone else. Maybe that’s why he wanted to buy you a fucking mansion in the hills, or a castle with a moat in Scotland.

If it would make you happy, he’d do it. Anything and everything, all for you.

But painting a wall that’s already off-white to moonlight white? It’s so insufferably boring that he contemplates tearing all of his hair out and mixing it into the paint, so that he’d at least have something stimulating to do.

The only thing he likes about this task is that he can hear you humming to yourself in the other room, some song that he barely recognizes. You’ve played it in the car before, but he can’t remember the name.

Frankly, that’s where the majority of his mental energy is going right now, not towards these tedious up and down strokes, because you said that side to side strokes were wrong for some reason.

He floats down from the corner of the room where he’s been levitating for the past twenty minutes, finishing up a corner, and when he looks at the little tray on the ground, he gets an idea that you’ll (probably) hate.

You’re lost in thought, daydreaming about how the kitchen would look with new countertops, when Satoru seems to appear out of nowhere, looming over your shoulder and blocking the light from above.

“Fuck! Oh my god, you walk so quietly,” you hiss, after looking over your shoulder and noticing him.

“You missed a few spots,” he hums thoughtfully, looking over your work.

Your eyes shift back toward the wall, now searching desperately for missed sections. Certainly, he can see them better than you can, but you don’t recall missing anything yet.

“Where-- Oh, what the fuck!” You hiss, as his big hands grip your asscheeks underneath your shorts while you were focused elsewhere.

That wouldn’t normally be a problem, because of course Gojo cannot keep his hands to himself, but they’re wet and cold.

He laughs at your screech, you whip around to look at him, “is that paint? Why?!”

“Painting is so fucking boring,” he complains, smirking at your protest, “getting to put handprints on your ass is my reparation.”

And then he takes his (indeed, paint-covered) hands, and pulls you against his chest, again holding your ass as he does so.

“Gojo, you have some paint on you,” you murmur, trying to hold back a grin, as you swipe your own painted thumb along his cheek.

“Oh, really? Do I?” He asks sarcastically, smirking as he backs you up until your back hits the wet wall that you were just working on.

You gasp, as the cold liquid seeps through your shirt and gets into your hair, and he only leans down to kiss you smoothly. In spite of yourself, you kiss him back, not fighting as much as you should when he hoists you up by the backs of your thighs, wrapping them around his waist.

“I just-- ah-- finished that wall,” you breathe between frenzied kisses.

He’s grinding his hardening length against your core, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth, “Do you wanna finish on it, too?”

“Shower-- oh, god, fuck--” you hiss, as he takes to sucking at the skin of your throat and pulling your shirt up and over your head, “so you can touch me without getting paint in my--”

“Say less,” he rasps, before warping rather than walking to the master bathroom.

He sits your ass on the sink, using his infinity to turn the water on while he undresses the both of you hastily, still kissing you with desperate need to be inside of you.

When his cock springs free from his briefs and slaps against his abs, you start stroking him in your palm, listening to the stuttering gasp that escapes his lips when you run your thumb over the sensitive tip.

You lean down to kiss his neck, his clavicles, his chest, as you leisurely stroke him in your palm, and he kneads the fat of your ass. Your run the flat side of your tongue over the scar that extends down the center of his chest-- it always makes him shiver when you do that.

He’s picking you back up before you can make it to his cock, practically throwing you into the shower with anticipation.

There’s a bench in the shower, big enough for you to comfortably sit on, and Satoru all but pushes you down onto it, “Open,” he demands, tapping his cock against your lips once.

“Are you desperate today, Satoru-- oh--”

You try to tease him, but as an opportunist, he just takes the momentary openness of your mouth as a chance to slip inside of it, moaning with relief when you run your tongue along the underside of the head.

“Just fucking suck it for a second, baby,” he rasps, threading one hand into your hair as the other is pressed flat against the wall where he braces himself, “just suck it-- just like that, just like that-- god, you’re so good.”

The muscles of his thighs twitch, betraying his desire to thrust his hips forward and make you take the rest of it down your throat. He’s so long that it’s difficult-- if not impossible-- to do so. Especially on a day like today where he’s so obviously need and excited, and he’s harder and thicker than usual.

You swallow around his length, looking up at him sweetly as you bob your head up and down him.

“Let me fuck your face,” he asks hoarsely, looking down at you for permission as his hips involuntarily flex forward, “just for a second, you can do it for a second. You can take it, baby, you can take it.”

You aren’t so sure, as tears are already welling up in your eyes, but you do as he asks anyway, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat as much as possible. He starts thrusting, really thrusting, and holding your head down until it’s at the base of his cock, while he fucks into your throat and moans wantonly.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me-- god, you’re gonna make me cum,” he warns, before pulling out of your mouth abruptly.

You close your eyes and open your mouth, you stick your tongue out and wait for the couple of seconds that it takes, because you know Satoru, and you know that there’s almost nothing he loves more than cumming all over your face.

“Oh--oh--ooh,” he moans, holding your tongue out of your mouth even further with his thumb, as he cums onto it, “oh, good girl, good girl.”

He hits your face, too, before eventually just grinding the underside of his tongue through the puddle of cum in your mouth. He feeds it back to you slowly, murmuring praises as he watches you swallow it all down.

“Pretty baby,” he purrs, as he cleans your face off before kneeling down to kiss you and taste himself, “now let me clean you up and make you cum really hard, yeah?”

He kisses the entirety of your face, from your forehead to your cheeks to your chin, as though he’s saying thank you for letting him wreck your throat. And he does exactly as promised.

He cleans every part of your body slowly and reverently, partly because he wants to show his appreciation for you, and mostly because he can see the way your thighs are squeezing together, and you’re dying for him to just lick you already.

He licks you, though not in the spot that you need him to. No, he licks and kisses your earlobes, your neck, the inside of your mouth, your shoulders and arms and hands. he kisses your chest, between your tits, the underside of your breasts-- he kisses a line down the center of your stomach, even though it tickles.

When he reaches the bottom, your legs spread involuntarily, and you push your hips outwards. Satoru smiles up at you wickedly-- he knows you need it, that’s why he’s making you wait.

That’s why he sucks your nipple into his mouth and massages your other breast, before switching sides and doing it all over again. Before long, you’re moaning whenever his hand brushes your thigh, he doesn’t even have to get near your pussy.

“Please, need-- please, I need you to--”

“I know what you need,” he hums, as he lifts you up and kisses your lips languorously again, turning you away from him, “and you can have it, baby.”

He bends you over at the waist, making you place your hands on the bench you were just sitting on, as he kneels between your legs. He runs a slow finger along your slit, noticing that the wetness there is different than the water. It’s thicker, creamier, tastes like you when he presses his finger into his mouth.

Satoru kisses your asscheeks, before dipping down between your legs to where you really need him to be. His tongue is slow and lazy, as he licks between your folds and across your clit, dipping inside of you experimentally.

You moan and struggle to hold yourself up already, as he sucks and kisses your clit lovingly, presses two fingers inside of your needy hole. If there’s one thing Satoru is good at, it’s eating your pussy.

As in, the first time he fucked you, he licked and kissed every inch of you until he figured out precisely which spots made you cum the hardest, which ones made you cum the fastest, which ones made you squirt, and then he never forgot the key that he made for your body.

Satoru can drag an orgasm out of you when you don’t want one, but when you do... You’re crying and clenching around his fingers, you’re rocking your hips back onto his face as he tongue-fucks that one spot that gets you there so well.

The way he licks your pussy is worship for Satoru, it’s love and dedication and adoration, because he’ll please you until the end of the world if you want him to. Maybe he’ll even do it if you don’t want him to.

You’re spasming and creaming on his tongue once, and then he doesn’t stop, he overstimulates you until it happens again, and then again, and then when he’s almost finished playing your body like a virtuoso would a piano-- he makes you squirt, just to prove that he can.

He stops after you’ve fallen apart so many times that you’ve lost count, and your knees buckle. Of course he catches you, chuckling as he holds your spent body up with his muscular arms.

“Think you can still ride me, baby?” He asks to tease you, knowing fully well that you can’t even stand up right now without some assistance.

“No, nonono, need a break,” you respond, laying your lax body against his hard one.

In the end, he dries you off and takes you to bed, he lays you down on your stomach. And then he massages your spent body for a long while, rubbing your arms, your shoulders, your back, your thighs, your ass...

A good long while, it is, before he stops resisting the urge to run his fingers along the slick surface of your cunt and notice that a string of cum connects the two.

He’s hard again, just like that, so fucking hard that he can’t stand it.

“Baby,” he purrs, asking your permission as he slides his cock between your asscheeks, desiring the friction, “you’re dripping again, like you want me to put my cock in you.”

“Please,” You ask, somehow still so aroused after every other orgasm he’s given you, “Mm, want you to make me cum again-- please, please-- oooohhh, fuck.”

He’s already sighing in relief as he slips his length into you. Satoru loves it when he has plenty of time to warm you up for his cock, because you’re so smooth and pliant and accepting of it afterwards, and even after a good four or five orgasms, you still clench and whine and shake, because your pussy is so, so sensitive.

So sensitive, and so wet, and sucking him in so fucking good, and you’re so fucking hot-- and, god, he loves your ass.

Satoru slaps it once, watching the fat of it jiggle as he fucks into you. He grips your waist, leaning down so that his forehead is pressed pressed between your shoulder blades. You’re keening and whining, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he rolls his hips into yours again and again.

“’M gonna-- Gonna cum-- Satoru, can I-- Please--”

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me-- wanna feel it, wanna hear it, wanna see it-- cum on my cock-- yes, fuck, there you go-- that’s it, that’s it-- let me hear it.”

You do let him hear it, and see it, and feel it, and he can practically taste it when he’s buried so deeply inside of you. Your muscles constrict, your breaths stagger, and you bite down on the pillowcase to muffle the cry that you let out.

Satoru loves the feral side of you that he sees when he’s fucking you from behind, and you can barely take it. He loves it so fucking much, he loves you so fucking much-- sososososo fucking much.

So much that he needs to show it to you, needs to give you his love with his body and let you accept it and carry it and bring it to life.

For the first time in your relationship, Satoru can’t find it in himself to pull out of you before he cums. No, not today, not right now. You’re practically begging to have his fucking babies, loving him like you do.

Your body needs his babies-- with your wide hips, and your soft smile, and your pillowy tits. He needs to fuck a baby into you, and he doesn’t know why the thought’s just now occurred to him when he’s balls deep, buried inside your cunt.

Like a man gone mad, he rambles, “Baby, I need to—need to— fuck, I need you. C‘mere— Come here. I’m gonna—“

He grabs your ass and hoists your hips upwards, his own hipbones slam against your lower half, and he moans out every syllable of your name as he fills you up with his seed, fucking every last drop of his cum into your cunt, a sign of adoration, a sign of love.

As soon as he loosens his death grip on your hips, your knees buckle, and his cum spills out of your pretty pussy. Satoru pushes it back into you with his fingers, eyes transfixed on the sight of moonlight white cum dripping out of your pussy.

“Did you cum inside me?” You ask, hoarse, out of breath, and likely confused, considering that he’s always been on top of his pullout game.

“I said sixteen kids, didn’t I?”

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hotchs-bitch · 1 year

Text

4 AM

Credits: prompt idea from @foxy-eva Criminal Minds Writing Challenge! Hurt/Comfort prompt: Nowhere else to go: Person A didn't know where else to go in a time of need, so they ring B's doorbell. Betaing credits to @doctorstethoscope and @greg-montgomery- I would never post anything if you guys didn't tell me to <3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner (post-slash?), Aaron Hotchner & blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n) (platonic-ish)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Unrequited love, discussions of divorce and parenting, Hotch's take on Haley leaving him, big sexy man cries a little, mentions of cases, angsty

A/N: I'm back with a song fic about Hotch's marriage crumbling, because apparently that's the only thing that can drag me out of my burnout era. Inspo song is 4 AM by Cate, and I highly recommend giving it a listen!!

Yes, this is angstier than I meant for it to be. Yes, I'm already working on a part 2 :)

Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut. Happy reading <3

Next part | Series masterlist | My masterlist

Why don’t you come over?

It’s only friendship we’ll risk

You can cry on my shoulder

If it’s her that you miss

Are you thinking of me

In a new light?

‘Cause if not wе could pretend for the night, for thе night

“Why don’t you come over for a little bit tonight?”

“It… it doesn’t even matter–”

“How long is your drive?”

Aaron’s sigh into the phone receiver is audible. You can almost picture him right now, his face screwed up in frustration and two fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’m… not far. I’m at a motel twenty minutes from Quantico. She offered to stay at Jessica’s house, but… I don’t want Jack to know what’s going on.”

This certainly wasn’t the conversation you were expecting to have when you phoned your boss in the evening, intending to apologize for the late hour and let him know that you would be sending a file to him that would need to be reviewed first thing in the morning. You were expecting a brief, rushed call. You weren’t expecting him to pocket-answer the phone so that you had an accidental front-row seat to the sound of your boss checking into a motel room for one guest.

When he finally heard your voice calling out, “Aaron!” from his pocket and realized what was going on, he had bashfully explained; another fight with Haley, a bad one. You know that they’re all bad these days, but his admittance meant that it was worse than usual. It had ended with both of them packing bags, insisting that the other stay at their house, and Hotch driving off before she could.

You can’t pretend that you aren’t a little surprised that he shared all of this without much prompting. But now, you just want to see him and know that he’s okay. You just want to make this better… but how can you do that?

Maybe it’s not your place to get involved at all. You would be the first to admit that, sure, you have a minor crush on your very married colleague, and maybe that means that you should be staying away from his marital problems with a twenty-foot pole. But if he needs help, you’re certainly going to offer it.

“I don’t want to say it, but… do you really think Jack doesn’t know? You two have been having a lot of problems, and he’s a smart kid.”

“I know. I know. But it’s not… we can work it out. We can figure something out. There’s no need to stress him out or make him think that we’re going to get a divorce. I don’t want him put through all of that, for something that won’t happen.” The pain in Aaron’s voice is as audible as his words, and the sheer emotion behind it… it just breaks your heart.

It’s your turn to sigh now, letting your head tip back and rest on the back of your couch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over? It’s really no trouble, I promise. I’ve got a guest room; you can stay as long as you need.”

Now, there’s a familiar firmness in his tone. It’s that decisive I-know-best voice he uses when he really believes in what he’s saying. “I’m sure. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be home by tomorrow. We’ll work this out. I… appreciate you speaking to me about this. I’m sure it’s not why you called.”

If he could see you, you would wave a hand in the air as if to say, ‘Don’t worry about it’. “Anytime, Aaron. And that offer stands, you hear me?”

This standing offer of yours might be a bad idea. What if he takes you up on it? What if he comes over, seeking your company? Your conflicting feelings for him are easy enough to set aside at work, but if he’s coming over because of his rocky marriage that’s a whole other battlefield you don’t have a clue how to navigate.

Aaron loves his wife. You know that he does. He adores her and their son, right down to his nightly phone calls with them on cases and the picture of the two that he keeps in his go bag. But sometimes, on the occasional event that he relaxes around you, you can’t help wondering if he could ever think of you the same way he thinks of Haley.

He could, you’re sure of that. He’s a red-blooded man, and even though that’s a little cliche of you, you can’t help but wish he would think of you as more than a colleague. You’re a woman who sees him more often than his own wife does, and that’s got to count for something. Does he really just view you as a colleague and friend, or… does he ever view you as something more?

Sometimes, you think maybe he does. During your last case – an abduction in South Dakota – the two of you had been canvassing together down a busy street when a biker rode past. Aaron had noticed in the nick of time, pulling you in towards him and out of the way of harm. He loves his wife more than anything, and you know that he was just keeping you from getting hurt. But for a moment, for just a split second, you had let yourself imagine that it was a gesture of more-than-friends, that he was pulling you in because he wanted to be closer to you.

So maybe this offer is a terrible, awful idea. You can admit that it probably is, but at least he doesn’t seem to be taking you up on it.

“I hear you.” There’s a bit of a smile in his voice now, as though he knows how serious you’re being and he finds it amusing. “Thank you, again. Have a nice night.”

Before you can respond, he hangs up. With a sigh, you set down the phone. It’s starting to get late now; you might as well go to sleep if he’s not coming over.

–

When you wake up, your bedroom is completely dark. Your alarm isn’t ringing on the nightstand, and when you roll over in bed you read the time on the digital clock. 3:46 AM.

So what the hell woke you up?

Your answer comes in the form of a knocking sound, loud enough to get your attention without being an obnoxious pounding sound. The noise is coming from… somewhere, so you get out of bed and slip on a robe over your pajamas to find the source of the noise.

The hunt leads you to your front door, where that steady knocking is coming from the other side. Someone is knocking on your door, at the late hour, and in a haze of grogginess and confusion, you wrench the door open.

“What is- Aaron?”

He’s standing on your step, his hand raised like he’s ready to knock again. His face… god. His face is full of pain, unimaginably pure pain, and he nods at you. “Hi. I’m sorry, I… you were sleeping. I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

His voice breaks a little, and that’s when you reach out. With one hand on his shoulder, you steer him into the house and close the door. “Are you okay? You didn’t… what?”

When you guide Aaron to the couch, he sits down without hesitation. His voice is drenched with despair when he says, “I didn’t… know where else to go. You said that the, er, offer was standing, right?”

“What? Yes, of course, it is. Aaron, what’s going on?” You sink down onto the couch next to him, watching him inhale deeply like he’s trying to ground himself. The tiny part of you that preens when he says that he didn’t know where else to go… well, you try to fight that part back. Right now, the priority is Aaron. The priority is not your ridiculous, unrealistic crush on him. “I thought you were staying at the motel tonight and going home tomorrow.”

“I did, too. Haley texted me a little while ago. She… she told me that she wants to figure out a… custody agreement that recognizes her as Jack’s primary parent. She wants to… work that out before she gets her lawyer involved.” He gives you a sardonic little smile, one that fills you to the brim with empathy as he continues to speak. “Apparently, when she said she would stay at her sister’s house, she meant indefinitely. I can expect to be served the… papers in the next week.”

He says ‘papers’ in a bitter tone, like the very sound of the word puts a bad taste in his mouth. It’s not hard to piece two and two together, and you slowly reach for his hand. He lets you take it, and you give him a moment before you ask the question.

“You and Haley are divorcing?” Compartmentalizing this has to be one of the most strong-willed things you’ve ever done. This isn’t the time for your feelings and emotions to be anywhere near the surface; not when Aaron needs you like this.

At the d-word, he flinches a little like he’s been wounded. He obviously hasn’t come to terms with the idea of it yet, and you wonder how long it’s been since she texted him. “We aren’t divorcing. She’s divorcing me.” His correction is swift, and his voice is brittle; it feels like he’s close to shattering. Seeing him like this – so vulnerable, so broken – is completely alien to you.

“Aaron…” You don’t know what to say, so you squeeze his hand. In lieu of any other words, you ask the stupidest possible question. “How do you feel?”

He laughs a little, at that. It isn’t genuine, but it’s not a cruel laugh either. It’s a little bit cynical, a little disbelieving. “I just found out that my wife is leaving me. It’s 4 AM, and I’m tired, and I can’t go home. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. It was dumb of me to ask.” You move a little closer to him, the couch cushions shifting under you until you’re almost pressed against him. “You can talk about it, if you want to. You can tell me everything that’s going through your head.”

Aaron takes another deep breath at that, and his hold on your hand tightens a little. “She isn’t happy. She hasn’t been happy, and we both knew it. I just… I didn’t think this would happen. I know she wants me around more- wanted me around, I suppose. Lately, most of our fights have been about work. Haley wanted me to leave the BAU, the Bureau if it came down to it, and I refused. And I can’t blame her for wanting a normal life, or wanting me to work at a 9 to 5, but… I can’t do that.”

His monologue has shaken every remaining ounce of grogginess out of your system. Aaron so rarely opens up, especially about personal matters. Listening to him talk like this, you could go all night long without a cup of coffee.

Come to think of it, coffee is a really good idea. Standing up, you give him a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m just going to make us some coffee. You look like you need it.”

The open-concept design means that you only move a few feet away to get to the coffeemaker in the kitchen, and you look over at Aaron as you scoop grounds into the basket. “Why can’t you leave the BAU?” Your question is soft, not accusatory.

He hears your tone, the general curiosity, and sighs. “When I was a lawyer, I prosecuted dozens of murder cases. By the time they reached my desk, it always felt like it was too late. And I wanted to, uh… stop them, before they got to my desk. We see a lot of things, you know? Jack… I don’t want him growing up in a world like this, with serial killers around every corner. I want to make the world a safer place for him. I suppose I thought that… I thought that because I’m doing it for my family, that would make it… easier for her to deal with.”

By the time Aaron finishes speaking, you’re handing him a cup of coffee. It’s sweetened with a bit of sugar and some cream; he usually drinks it black, but you know he considers any other kind of coffee to be a treat. If there’s ever been a time for him to deserve a treat, it’s now.

“You’re a good dad,” you tell him as you sink back down onto the couch with a mug of your own. “I know that you and Haley might have different ideas about what parenting should look like, but… you’re doing this because you love him. You want to protect him, and keep him safe and innocent. That doesn’t make you a monster for missing bedtime.”

It’s silent for a long moment; the only sound is both of you sipping your coffees, and then Aaron hums quietly. “I just… I never want him to know what kind of people are out there. He’s a little kid. I’m supposed to be there to tell him that there isn’t a monster under his bed. Instead, I spent his birthday in Mississippi looking for a guy who hunts his victims by actually hiding under their beds. I can’t blame Haley for being upset with me.”

You’re still trying to think of a response to that when he speaks again. His voice softens now, and when you glance over he looks away quickly. It’s not quick enough, and you still make note of the tears in his eyes that he’s obviously trying to hide. “We’ve been together since high school, you know. Graduation, college, law school… all of it.”

“I had no idea,” you murmur. You knew that Aaron and his wife were together for a long time, obviously. But to be together since high school? That’s a hefty chunk of time; it’s more than half as long as he’s been alive. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I… I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“If it helps, neither can I. I don’t… I have no clue how I feel,” he admits, setting down the coffee cup. His gaze is still averted, but you can see the tears shining in his eyes. “Things haven’t been great for a while, and I know that. I’m not an idiot. But she’s always been there by my side, always. And now… she won’t be there, anymore.” His voice breaks a little on the last word, and it just… breaks your heart, all over again.

When you speak, it’s a little more tentative. Between his strict professionalism in the office and the reason for this impromptu 4 AM visit, you’re worried that you might be crossing some sort of line here. He’s got a wife at home; technically, he’s still married. That, and the reason for your offer is more selfish than you care to admit. But you don’t mind that as much as you probably should. After a pause, you say it.

“You can say no, but… do you want a hug?” Even as you ask the question, you start to get to your feet. Maybe to give him easy access, or maybe just so you can busy yourself with the coffee mugs if he says no.

A soft ‘oof’ escapes you when Aaron gets to his feet and hugs you tightly, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask. His arms wrap around your waist while your own come up to reach around him, rubbing his back gently in as reassuring of a manner as you can. Yes, your reason for this hug is selfish… It's selfish to take pride in the fact that you’re the one comforting him, reassuring him, and hopefully making him feel better.

You’re just about to let go – the guilt-ridden confliction of your emotions is almost too much to handle – when you feel and hear a sharp intake of breath against your shoulder, under your hand. It’s paired with the softest, most broken-sounding sob you can imagine. Aaron is trying to hold back that flood of emotion, that heartbreak that seems to surround him like it’s stuck alongside him inside an impenetrable bubble, and you tighten your grip on him a little.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, and you hope that you sound soothing. You hope that you can calm him, help him in some way. “You can let go, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron doesn’t respond. He’s silent against you as his face presses into your shoulder, but his back moves under your hand when he takes in another deep, shuddering breath. It isn’t until he pulls away and lowers his head that you realize that the shoulder of your robe is soaked with tears that you couldn’t feel through the layers of fabric.

His head is still down, and he wipes at his face like he can’t stand to have tears running down it. “I’m sorry,” he says after a long moment, and he turns away altogether while he presumably collects himself.

You allow him this privacy, this pseudo-solitude to wipe his face and straighten his posture and do whatever else he can to recover from his moment of sheer, sheer vulnerability. He’s starting to turn back by the time you say, “Don’t be. You’re hurting, Aaron. I want to be here for you, however I can be. If you want to talk about how much you miss her, and cry on my shoulder…” you shrug one of the aforementioned shoulders, a gesture meant to play off the tension of the moment, “Well, I’ve got two of them, so feel free. Whatever you need, okay? That’s a promise.”

With a little nod, Aaron wipes a hand under both eyes again. “I understand. I really appreciate it… I appreciate you. Just having you here, with me… it’s helped more than you know.”

A tight smile graces your face, and you pat his forearm as you step back. The coffee is starting to wear off, and you can feel the exhaustion down to your bones. It’s on his face too, in his eyes and the way they’re growing heavy with the need to sleep. “Of course. We can talk more in the morning, but I think for now you should try to get some sleep. Okay?”

Aaron straightens up, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes as he tries to suppress a yawn. “I think you’re right. Thank you, again.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” you promise, leading him down the hall towards the guest bedroom right next door to yours. “Just get some rest, and… tomorrow can wait. Everything else can wait, for now.”

“It can wait,” Aaron agrees with a solemn nod, his voice quiet. He thanks you once again before you step away from the door, listening to it shut before you turn off all the lights and return to your own bedroom.

By the time you slip under your blankets, you can hear soft snores floating through the shared wall. It’s still hard to tell if you’ve overstepped, or if you’ve crossed some sort of line tonight. But for now… Aaron might have Haley in his head, but he’s fast asleep in your guest bedroom. You’re going to support him through this next stage of his life. Whatever the next few weeks or months may bring, you’ll be there.

You aren’t going to change his mind on anything. If he wants to contest the divorce, you’ll be there for him. If he wants to do it amicably, you’ll ask how you can help. If he realizes somewhere along the way that you could be the one for him, you certainly won’t argue.

You’ve already waited without hope for years. If he winds up single then maybe, just maybe, he’ll think of you in a new light one day. And if not… maybe you can just pretend he will, for tonight.

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skellymom · 2 months

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"UNFORTUNATE TURN OF EVENTS"

Hunter, Wrecker, Fennec Shand One Shot Alt Universe Fic

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3, EP 8-YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Word Count: 537

Background: Hunter and Wrecker take a job with Fennec Shand in exchange for Intel on the Empire...with an unfortunate turn of events. For whom?

Warning: Swearing, canon-typical violence. SPOILERS S3!

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

From the very beginning Hunter and Wrecker had misgivings about working with Fennec Shand.

Aside from her trying to maim or kill Hunter she took off with Omega, a terrified child.

He never knew where her loyalties lay. And she didn’t believe in even a smidgen of selflessness.

Now being rudely ordered around by this cold woman on some swampy ass crack of a planet for intel...that he wasn’t sure they’d ever see.

But he and Wrecker really had nothing to bargain with.

Now she was giving them both crap about losing Omega.

Honey, you don't know shit about where we’ve been or what we’ve experienced to protect our family.

Plus, she was willing to kidnap A KID for MONEY.

Fennec claimed to stop going after the bounty when whomever hired Fennec thought Omega would be safer with them. And she refused to tell them who that was.

Mighty nice of you, sweetheart.

“Guess they were wrong about that.” She taunted them.

Wrecker shot back “Guess you’ll work for anybody, as long as you get paid.”

Hunter was starting to lose his patience...and a bit of his empathy. At least for sketchy characters who dangled important info that would help a cause or an innocent person’s quality of life, just out of reach.

He knew he was becoming bitter. Compassion Fatigue.

“Good guys or bad guys, their money is all the same.” She trotted out THAT platitude.

“Well, money isn’t everything.” Hunter countered.

“Spoken by someone who doesn't have any.” Fennec sneered.

Under the helmet Hunter ground his teeth. She had no right to judge him and his brothers this way. Surely, she started from nothing? Didn’t most of the galaxy?

The bounty was bagged and brought back into Fennec’s ship.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Hang on. You promised information.” Hunter angrily demanded.

“I didn’t say I had it with me. But I’ll get it.” Fennec stared down at them. “After I deliver Sylar to my client."

“That’s NOT what we agreed on.” Hunter and Wrecker were PISSED, it showed on their faces.

“You can either fight me or trust me. Take your pick.”

Hunter and Wrecker glanced at one another stone faced.

She’s fucking with us.

“Good choice. I’ll be in touch.”

Then the confident, cold-blooded Fennec Shand made a HUGE mistake.

She turned her back on Hunter.

He shot her, his blaster was NOT set to stun.

She fell onto the gangplank, still somewhat alive. Instantly regretting that she mistook both clones for harmless fools.

Hunter stepped up and leaned down to face Fennec.

“You’re right, we’re credit-less. That’ll change when we turn in your bounty and scrap your ship. We also have your contacts and intel now, too.”

Fennec gasped, clinging onto the last shred of life.

“Too late for YOU to learn a valuable lesson: Don’t FUCK with people who have loved ones...cause we’ll do ANYTHING to secure their safety.”

Wrecker yanked up Fennecs dying body from the gangplank so he could pilot her ship. “Heh, didn’t she say something earlier about eventually everyone’s luck runs out?”

“Guess she thought it didn’t apply to HER.” Hunter walked off to pilot the Marauder.

Maker help ANYONE standing in the way of Clone Force-99.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

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snippy-tano · 8 months

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hi! ^.^ i love ur writing and i was hoping to make a request for an echo x reader story where reader is rly close with hunter bc they both look after/care about omega and so echo thinks there's something romantic between them bc of that but reader actually likes echo too? and maybe the other batchers know the truth but dont say anything out of respect but omega ends up confessing on behalf of reader and echo like "why havent u guys admitted you're in love w each other its so obvious" or something lol im a sucker for mutual pining hehe. thanks in advance if u do write it! xoxo <3

Ope.

I said I was back, but even I didn’t expect to post another one tonight. But I am on a freaking roll and I will keep on going until I run out of steam.

So here you are babes! I had a lot of fun writing this. I fucking love pining. Good god I love it. So this was a total treat for me. It’s a bit angsty, but with mutual pining, there is going to be some angst. Hope you love it anon! :))))

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———————————————————

Take My Hands Now

“Omega! Please slow down!” You called as the small blonde ran ahead of you and the rest of the Batch through the crowded market.

She stopped with a huff, bouncing up and down on her feet, restless. “Come on! Hurry up!

You smiled at her excitement, moving forward a little quicker and taking her outstretched hand. She immediately turned on her heels and began dragging you at a much faster pace through the dense crowd. You urged her to slow down, but the slight laugh in your voice didn’t deter her in the slightest.

Behind you, the Batch all watched fondly, following at a much more acceptable pace.

They caught up to the two of you outside of a booth with a local street food. You passed over a few credits before taking the outstretched food from the vendor and passing it to Omega who was beaming.

“Hunter look!” Omega called when she saw the group approaching. “Doesn’t it look delicious?”

“Yeah kid. Did you say thank you yet?” He said, giving her head a gentle pat.

“Thank you!” Omega beamed up at you and you smiled, crouching down to be at her level.

“You are very welcome. Now eat up. We’ve got a little further to go still.” You said and she nodded enthusiastically, jogging off to catch up with Wrecker who lifted her above his head and placed her on his shoulders with a laugh from both of them.

You stood up, watching as they walked into the crowd, Tech and Echo trailing behind. Hunter began walking beside you.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said and you shrugged.

“Her eyes lit up when she saw it. I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” You replied, watching as she broke off a piece of the fried bread and gave a piece to Wrecker.

“I know I say it a lot, but thank you for helping take care of her. I’m not sure we’d be able to do it alone.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that.” You cut in, giving Hunter’s shoulder a slight push. “I think you were doing a fine job on your own. But I’ll accept the compliment, thank you.”

He laughed lightly. “Come on, it’s like you said, we still have more to do here.”

You gave him another smile before picking up the pace to join the rest of the group. As you approached, you watched as Omega passed a piece of the food to Tech. He studied it curiously, sniffing it once before taking a small bite of it. He seemed to like it because his next bite was not as cautious. She then passed a piece to Echo.

You watched, chest warming as he thanked her with a genuine smile on his face. He too seemed a little hesitant, but took a much bigger bite than Tech. You smiled when his eyes also lit up, happily eating the rest.

He must have felt your gaze, because he turned back and made eye contact with you. You felt your heart thump loudly in your chest. And then it faded when his eyes dropped and he looked away, face falling.

You felt your own expression falter, feeling a familiar pain in your chest.

It was hard not to be disappointed. It has been happening a lot recently, Echo avoiding your gaze, keeping conversations short, and seemingly avoiding you.

It didn’t used to be like that. In fact, when you first started working with the Batch, besides Omega, you were probably the closest with Echo. He was a bit standoffish with you at first, but you figured it was him trying to protect his family. Eventually, like the rest of the Batch, he had warmed up to you. You used to take watches together when traveling and spent a lot of time talking, about anything and everything.

It wasn’t hard to fall for him.

In fact, it was probably the easiest thing you had ever done.

You knew that he was hesitant to get close with anyone, likely because of the “enhancements” done to him at the hands of the Techno Union. But that has never bothered you. Echo was Echo. The pieces of metal and technology were a part of him and it was because of those pieces that he was able to be here. And for that you would always be incredibly thankful.

But something had changed.

You’re not sure if it was something you had done, or if he was realizing how close you had become and was pushing you away, but no matter what it was, gone were the days where you would stay up talking for hours. You hardly ever saw him smile in your direction anymore, in fact, when he did happen to look at you, he just looked upset. Which was the last thing you wanted to see.

You didn’t know what was going on, but you’re pretty sure your heart was breaking.

You couldn’t really dwell on that though. The Batch needed you to be focused, so you needed to get over this quickly. Or at least get a handle on your feelings so you stop having the pain deep in your chest whenever Echo avoids your gaze.

Even if the lingering feelings never faded, your attachment to the Batch meant that you needed to get a grip. And fast.

Your trip to the market was largely uneventful.

Tech was able to get the parts he needed, you picked up some extra food rations and medical supplies you had been running low on, and Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo were able to pick up the information Cid had originally sent you for. Out of all the jobs they had been on for Cid, this was by far the easiest one yet. Which you were thankful for.

You had begun the long walk back through the market for the Marauder.

Your bag was full of supplies and was significantly heavier than it was when you originally arrived. That however didn’t stop Omega from bumping into you, eyes droopy and expression sleepy.

You smiled at her softly, bending down and opening your arms. She willingly embraced you and you gripped her tightly before standing up, bringing her with you. Hunter appeared at your side, placing his hand on Omega’s back.

“You got this?” He whispered and you nodded with a small smile.

He gave you a nod and walked ahead. You were fine for now, but knew that if you needed a break, Hunter would be willing to take over. Which you appreciated because unlike the rest of the Batch, you were not enhanced in any way and you would definitely tire much sooner than they would.

“You okay with carrying her?” Came a voice at your side and you turned to see Echo walking beside you. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze instead locked forward. Your heart thumped in your chest and your stomach felt a little queasy as it fluttered.

Your throat was dry when you spoke. “Yeah. She’s not that heavy. But thank you for checking.”

He didn’t reply and you risked another glance over at him. He was still looking forward, but you could see in the way his jaw was clenched that he felt uncomfortable. The queasy feeling in your stomach only grew and a lump formed in your throat.

How had things changed so much for him? Was he always this uncomfortable around you? Had you pushed him too far? Was this your fault?

Omega mumbled against your shoulder and you couldn’t decipher it.

“Omega? Are you okay?” You whispered, rubbing her back.

Her arms tightened around your neck and she turned her head to face out towards Echo.

“Are you two not talking?”

Your stomach dropped down to your feet at her words and you inhaled sharply, steps faltering. Your eyes automatically flipped to Echo who seemed just as surprised, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out.

“No.” You choked out, feeling sick that you were lying to her. “We’re fine.”

She hummed. “But you’re not happy.”

You really didn’t know what to say to that.

“I don’t understand.” She said and you shifted her, tightening your grip as your arms began to ache.

“Don’t understand what, starlight?” You asked, nudging her head with your own.

Echo was still walking beside you, which was a surprise. But you needed to focus on Omega right now. You could deal with what was going on with Echo after.

“Why haven’t you admitted you love each other yet. It’s really obvious.”

You thought what had said earlier was surprising, this completely blew everything out of the water. Your feet stumbled and it was only Echo’s hand gripping your arm that kept you from sending both you and Omega onto the ground. Instinctively, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze.

But this time, instead of looking away, he held your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm. This was the longest you’d been able to maintain eye contact with him for the last few standard months. You had just noticed a faint darkening of his own face when you felt a tap on your other shoulder.

You jumped and turned, seeing Hunter standing beside you.

He didn’t say anything, only gestured to Omega who had fallen asleep in your arms after her last bombshell. You didn’t fight it, quickly transferring the sleeping girl from your arms and into Hunters. Once she was settled, he gave you both a look before turning on his heel and walking away. When he reached Tech and Wrecker (who were watching from a distance), all three of them turned and continued walking.

But you couldn’t move.

You took a shaky breath, mind still reeling from what Omega said.

It was probably not true right? Just the wish of a girl who didn’t understand. It didn’t mean anything.

You felt a hand rest on your arm, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

It was Echo.

He looked uncomfortable, much like before, but it almost felt different. He looked down at his feet and cleared his throat.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

You blinked. “What?”

He sighed before lifting his gaze and meeting yours. “I’m sorry for avoiding you and pushing you away. I got too in my head about everything and I thought it would be easier to just avoid talking about it. It’s because you’re so good with Omega.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about? What does Omega have to do with this?” You asked, feeling terribly confused by this turn of events.

Nothing was making sense at the moment and you were practically begging Echo to fill you in.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not Omega necessarily. It’s just you’re so good with her and you work really well with Hunter. I thought that maybe - maybe you and him - just-“

It dawned on you all at once.

Oh.

He thought…

You reached forward and grabbed Echo’s hand. His gaze snapped to yours and you refused to look away this time. He was going to look and listen to you.

“I do care about Hunter.” You tightened your grip on his hand when you felt him recoil slightly. “But not in the way I care about you.”

You let out a sigh, looking down at your clasped hands before looking back up at Echo who had yet to look away. “I care about the rest of the Batch like you’re my family, because you are. And that’s all Hunter is to me, family. Or like an annoying brother. But you? Maker, Echo, I love you so much. You don’t have to reciprocate anything, but I’m tired of pretending that the past few months haven’t been brutal. I’ve missed you. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, just don’t push me away. I can deal with my feelings, but I can’t survive if you’re not in my life.”

You were slightly out of breath when you finished, more out of anxiety of finally confessing what you had kept to yourself for so long and absolute terror of rejection. But like you had said, you couldn’t live another day without Echo being in your life the way he used to be. Even if it meant you went back to managing your feelings. That was fine, you just needed him.

Echo didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you.

The longer he waited, the more anxious you became.

You really karked this up. You ruined it all.

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, Echo moved. He yanked his hand out of yours and crashed into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders and a hand braced against the back of your head. You froze at first, not really sure what was happening.

But then his head thumped against yours and you felt the tension in his body leave. It was then that you let out a breath, wrapping your arms around his waist to return his hug.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I put you through that. I misunderstood everything. Please forgive me.” Echo whispered and you squeezed him tighter.

“You don’t need to apologize, but of course I forgive you.” You said. “Just don’t do it again, please.”

“I can’t make any promises, but you have my word that I will do my best to never do that again.”

You smiled against his chest plate, letting your eyes close as you felt the most relaxed you had in months. And Echo seemed perfectly happy to stay there as well. So you did.

Until you heard the chirp of Echo’s comm that is.

Nothing was said, but it was a reminder that you did have others waiting on you. You let out a sigh, not wanting to part, but knowing that you had to.

You started to pull away, but Echo held fast. You looked up at him and found him already looking at you. A smile spread across your face and he returned it. He leaned down and your eyes closed involuntarily. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and your toes curled in your boots as the knot in your stomach dissolved and the warmth began to spread again.

He lingered for a moment, but eventually pulled away. When you separated, you felt colder than moments before, but infinitely better than you had in so long.

You held out your hand towards him, just waiting. Echo looked down at your hand, before looking up at you. You offered him a smile and he returned it before gripping your hand in his own.

Both of you began walking in the direction everyone else had already gone, only this time things were different. This time, thanks to Omega, you and Echo were stronger than ever.

You still had some things to talk out, but knowing that it was only a misunderstanding that had caused so much discomfort was a huge relief. Now you could focus on him and the both of you together. He gave your hand a squeeze and you smiled up at him.

Maker, you loved this man.

You gave his hand a squeeze back before looking ahead at your path back to the ship.

Yeah, things were going to be just fine.

#lets keep it going babes #hopefully see you again soon!#asks #askBri #the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #clone x reader #tcw #tbb #echo x reader

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