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corroded-hellfire · 2 months

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The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved

Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”

Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly.

The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture.

“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole.

Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time.

She is getting officially fed up now.

“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”

If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people.

“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter.

“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.

“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”

Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls.

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—

Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit.

Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke.

It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense.

“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form.

Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing.

Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.

“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”

“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words.

You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.

“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”

“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers.

“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh.

Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots.

Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.

Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”

Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.

“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”

“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls.

Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.

Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.

“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.

Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek

“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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elvestoneanzelote1 · 6 months

Note

Hello may I request a Platonic! Dazai x Mother! Reader.

Basically, Reader is Dazai’s biological mother, but of course he doesn’t know and grew up thinking he had no mother for the majority of his life, and Reader watched over him during his Mafia days, watching and protecting him in the shadows while putting up a front and working besides Hirotsu, who along with Mori knew they were related. So before and during the Dark Era, reader and Mori made a deal that if Dazai left the Mafia, she would be forced into isolation with no contact with the outside world, but if Dazai stayed, the reader would finally be able to speak with her son as a mother instead of a stranger. Obviously, Dazai left, and it wasn’t until the whole fiasco with Fyodor and the vampire outbreak that during the scene with Chuuya “shooting” Dazai in the head, he finally heard his mother’s voice of sorrow and anger shouting to Fyodor, “What have you done to my son?!”

(The ending is up to you and how Dazai reacts and if you write this as Yandere or not. P.S. I love your works and I am an absolute fan of your Zhongli/Albedo! Reader, Yandere BSD fic❤️)

𝙰:𝚗- 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝... 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝.

𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢.

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒. (𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌).

𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚒 𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚒

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚎𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙵𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚣𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚈𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚑i

Part 2

What was a mother like for him...? Dazai does not know.

He doesn't remember his parents much either... Perhaps abandoned him? Perhaps he is worth nothing in the eyes of his parents... Even his mother must be ashamed to birth him... Right?

Dazai always felt incomplete as he Stared the happy families which he... Wish he had too.

That was until, Mori brought him to Port mafia.

Perhaps he truly belongs to... Bloodshed?

Perhaps not...

But his heart melt when you came to his life.

You were apart of Black Lizards... Well not that much but some... Connected mission you does so.

You were about 35 or perhaps more then that?.

To be honest... You yourself was shocked to see your son in port mafia.

Even if you want to approach him... Ask how the father was... You knew somehow he... The father must have past away leaving... Dazai alone.

Don't get y/n wrong... She was a victim of Teenage pregnancy... The father offered her money to birth a boy for him to inherit his property as a refine man

As your parents left a huge debt onto your life you agreed.

But somehow... Dangle yourself with Hirotsu your... Friend... Perhaps? You can say that way even If he is older then you but.

He was the one offered you to join Port mafia.

Unaware of the fact Dazai have no one with him... To call a family...

Only through Him appeared with Mori had you realise your guilt.

You blame yourself not trying to find the fact if your son was okay.

Perhaps money does blinded your motherly nature.

But... All you can do was smile warmly at him.

Despite Kouyou who take upon you too... She respect you like an older sister and watch over Dazai for you too when you are out.

But... Perhaps that was a fault on your part to be attach with your son... Who doesn't realise your his mother.

Honestly you were very much concern when he ask you to suicide with him.

It was... Heartwrenching on your part.

But slow it was yet, you stay with Dazai... Like a mother... No to ease your guilt for leaving him almost 13 years of his life.

He was an just a baby a year old when you left him... You can't blame him if he forget you... As you are the fault here.

"L/n-san! Did you know what happen today?" Asked Dazai who happily sat beside you and side hug you as you gently smile at him.

"What happen today? Dazai?"

"Today I burn a farm! It was accident but thankfully those people which we need to kill are dead now"

"So you completed your mission?"

"Yep! And I eventually hurt my head!"

"Are you fine now? Shall we go to Boss?"

"Nope! Just kiss my forehead and it will be better!" Said Dazai as you chuckle slightly yet does so.

He oftens stays beside you laying his head on your lap as you let him sleep.

He felt close to you... Perhaps if he had a mother... If she is alive maybe... Will she care like you do? He often thought that way while letting himself cuddle to you.

As much as he hate sharing your warmness you also care for Akutgawa... Well leading him to take some... Steps which concern you.

Akutagawa start avoiding you afraid he will disappoint Dazai.

Your ability was not for fighting more likely telepathy. You can talk to people afar through telepathy if you wanted to and... The fact you read mind because of it.

𝙿𝚢𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗: your ability name.

Perhaps that is the reason why 𝙼ori was fond of you... Short of way.

He knows Dazai is your son and you care a lot.

Despite him should not value much but for an tiny bit he kind of find peace been with you.

"Did you know, Y/n-chan"

"Hmm?" Your gentle e/c eyes side glance at Mori who hold onto Elise hands who on the other hand holds yours.

Afar it might look like a family but you aren't far from that thought.

"Some colleagues were wondering if we were married of sort before I... even became the boss you often stay around for me" said Mori as your gentle smile never wavered.

"Oh? But I do say, Boss you should get married unless you plan on dying single"

"Your indeed correct but I cannot find a women who is kind or tolerable for me"

"Are you searching for one?"

"Not really... Perhaps I already have someone on my mind" said Mori who stopped and faced you.

You blink slightly confused as Mori gently hold your left hand.

"There are women's that come and go even if I trust my ability as a sole... You have also become an important piece on my life, Y/n"

"...what... are-" his other hand gently stroke your face as your eyes widen staring up at him.

'I know you will read my thoughts... But I guess it will better this way...' Thought Mori to you as your eyes widen by his confession.

'Will you marry me y/n? And solely be apart of my life?'

"...but what if, I betray you?"

"Will you?" Said Mori who let out a chuckle as he stepped away abit as your mind race with thought of confusion as the only word came to your mind.

'Reject him'

"Well I will give you time to think..." Said Mori leaving with Elise who chuckle and walk away with your mind been blank of what to think.

Your heart was forever close for anyone except your son whom you love dearly as a mother should.

But... Loving another man? Yes Mori have been kind to you and you knew him when he was just an underground doctor.

You even met Fukuzawa too who told you to leave Mafia.

But you couldn't.

You can't leave your son.

And before that you couldn't.

You cared about Hirotsu.

Who is only friend of yours that was with you when your parents sucided themself.

Time past by as you were more likely ignore the question of that day.

As One day Dazai left.

He left without a word.

As much as it hurted you.

You knew it was better perhaps that friend of his have really change Dazai for better.

You could only wish to see your son been in good well.

Even if Akutagawa was hesistant he still stay with you as you cared for him as he was indeed your son student.

Both the siblings admit your like a mother for them and you even encouraged them to call you their mother of sort.

But...

When Dazai left you knew your fate was sealed.

"What do you think, Y/n-chan? Do you like white or red dress as a wedding dress?" Asked Mori while selecting dresses with Elise looking in choosing some accessories.

"Anything... Will be fine Mori-san..."

"Now now, You should call Ougai now no?" Said Mori who smile and gently hold your face sway away strand of hairs of yours from your face.

"After all, We will be together and you will be my wife soon, Isn't it lovely and honour for you to be my wife?"

"..."

He squeeze your face tighter as you try your best to smile a bit.

"Ye-yeah... Ougai-san..."

"Good very good... It is a shame Dazai will be unaware that I will be his soon step dad... Ah the irony but don't worry Y/n-chan I really like you... But more likely your ability is something which I cannot let you leave Mafia again" as Mori lean to your ear as you could feel his warm breath to yours.

"Never are you... Going to leave me, understood?"

"Y-yes Ougai-san"

But perhaps fate will bring the truth to your son... Well... More likely Ada told him the truth.

"...what do you mean?" Muttered Dazai as he side glance at Ranpo who told him the truth with Fukuzawa nodding with a frown present.

"Y/n l/n... Is your biological mother"

"...why did she left me then? And why did she come to my life again instead... Why?" Asked Dazai as he couldn't care if he is over showing his emotions.

As gentle as you are Fukuzawa frown that not a bit of Dazai resemble you perhaps the father infected him more.

Though some part he is slightly glad you never married anyone else after The birth of Dazai.

Either way, Dazai was asking what they meant truly.

"Your mother gave birth to you when she was only... 16 perhaps yeah... Been force to pay debt of her late parents she was offered money to birth a son by your father... Your mother was tossed away and given money when you were just a year old. Unaware of your life that your father passed away soon after and... Your Uncle took away your inheritance leaving you... Somewhere either way... Yeah it is y/n l/n your mother"

"...all this time... She was so close to me... Yet I never knew... I have to meet her and ask her about it.. If she know it too or even-"

"That's not the reason why we told you" said Ranpo as Dazai was abit confused as he quickly composed himself with a stiff smile.

"What do you mean?"

Fukuzawa handed Dazai a card who was confused with Fukuzawa frown present on his lips.

"Y/n was a close one even for me too... But perhaps in time she choose.... The port mafia boss Mori"

"...what kind of joke is this" muttered dazai as Fukuzawa nod.

"Either she is forc-"

"She have to be forced! Y/n- no mother never love Mori-san... And Mori-san value her for her ability.... We have to save Mother!" Said Dazai as he glance at Ranpo then Fukuzawa.

"Please... Since mother was close to you too, Save her from the marriage!"

"..." Fukuzawa let out a sighed as Ranpo side glance at the president and let out a chuckle.

"Seems... Like president gonna get another son beside me and I am getting a mother!" said Ranpo leading Fukuzawa to side glare at Ranpo with slightly flustered face as Dazai blink twice as his eyes widen in realisation.

"Even if... we save mother that doesn't mean I'm letting mother marry you!"

"...shut it concentrate on saving her from marriage first"

"Listen to your father, Dazai! And even Your older brother, me!"

"Ranpo/- San shut it"

"Now... you both are aiming me for nothing!"

𝙰:𝚗- 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢/𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕! 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢/𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕!

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togenabi · 8 months

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the language of flowers

gojo satoru x reader (royalty au)

♡—All your life, you have been training for the role of Empress... But nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.

word count♡— 4.7k (I came back swinging y'all)

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— arranged marriage, romance, crown prince (maybe ooc) gojo, flowers, no use of y/n, afab!reader, ur a princess we're all princesses, minor chara oc's, mentions of my other au's, reader's father is a jerk, reader is tough but falls hard, not fully proofread

author's note♡— this took a while! september was ridiculously busy for me but I did my best with this to compensate! this is also very self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it! xoxo, belle

As a child, you found out of your engagement to the Crown Prince by accident.

On a chilly winter's evening, you had been chasing the Royal Secretary's cat around the palace. Your father, the King, would frown upon you playing games at this hour. You should be writing essays, learning dance or banquet etiquette.

But all that can wait, you think. You've just spotted the end of a fluffy tail dart around the next corner.

When you catch up to it, the orange tabby is curiously peering into a room—whose grand double doors are slightly ajar. Eyes widening, you quicken your steps but make sure to minimize any sound. The last thing you needed was to be spotted skirting your duties right in front of the King's study.

You let out a huff of relief once you've gently picked up the cat, your arms hugging it to your chest.

Just as you're about to sneak away, however, you hear your name.

From the gap in the door, streams of golden light pour out; contrasting with the darkness of the hallway. The silhouettes of your father and his Secretary leave shadowed patterns on the floor.

You listen, as these silhouettes plan your future without you.

“Ha!” The King bellows. “My daughter. Empress. I never thought I'd see the day.”

Your heart stutters. What?

“When will you inform her, Your Majesty?”

The shadow on the painted tiles waves a hand dismissively as your father does.

“I'll leave that to you, Montgomery. Tell her that she should be honored.”

Heavy footsteps sound as he paces. “It was concerning to have a daughter as a firstborn. I knew she couldn't be made to rule what I've built, but I'll finally have a steady pawn in The Empire once she's sent away.”

Pain shoots into you. Your eyes begin to sting. You had always known your brother was the favorite despite all the hard work you've put in, but to be spoken of as a pawn... Could it be that you have not worked hard enough?

You suddenly remember where you are. Remember how slacking off brought you here. Heartbroken, you hug the cat tighter.

The words your father speak as you walk away deepens the dagger in your chest.

“Do not settle for anything less than perfect for her coursework. She's to be Empress, after all.”

On that chilly winter's evening, your heart froze over like the snow-covered branches looming outside.

...

Several years later.

The carriage goes over a bump in the road, but you do not show discomfort or act without grace. Your expression is controlled and your posture is correct as you balance yourself.

Across from you, Secretary Mont holds a newspaper up, the front page faces you as he reads. Large bold letters take up the entire upper half of the paper:

‘CITIZENS QUESTION IF EMPRESS-TO-BE IS WORTHY OF THE CROWN PRINCE’

You scoff. It makes Mont meet your gaze over the paper before flipping it; he frowns disapprovingly at the front-most article.

“Do not mind them, Your Highness.” He folds the paper and sets it aside—as if it would help prove his point. “The people are not used to your presence yet, but they will be. They will see how you are the perfect choice for Empress.”

The Princess is power hungry, someone who was interviewed had said. You wanted the Empire for yourself, apparently.

Jealous. Vain. Possessive. Dramatic.

Shifting your gaze to the window, you contemplate what you had done to garner such a negative image. Could you have done anything differently?

Your father's face appears in your mind's eye. That same ever-present scowl on his face as he says you should do better. You should be grateful. You should be nothing less than what you've been preparing all these years for. Everything must be perfect.

The Imperial Palace comes into view. It stands high and grand, shining under the bright midday sun. The cloudless blue sky above it makes the scene picturesque.

After the wedding in four months, it is to be your new home.

The Imperial Princess, your betrothed's younger sister, greets you when you arrive. You curtsy to each other, and she surprises you by reaching out to take your hands in hers. She gives them a firm yet friendly squeeze.

“I'm pleased to welcome you, my sister-to-be.” She beams, and you return the look with your own small, composed smile.

“I am honored to be here. Thank you for taking the time to receive me personally.” You gently lower your hands, letting her go.

She leads you inside, passing lines of palace staff as you enter.

“Congratulations on your own engagement, by the way.” You say honestly. After assessing her for a moment, you carefully remark, “I hear you and Prince Toge are quite happy.”

“We are.” She nods, smile glowing even more at the mention of her beloved. “Please allow me to say that I hope you and my brother find your own happiness, despite the ‘political arrangement’ of it all.”

“I thank you for your well-wishes.”

“Would you like an escort to your chambers?” The Princess offers once you reach a grand curving staircase.

“If you have other duties, I will not keep you.” You give her a bow, the ends of your dress brushing the polished marble flooring.

“Very well.” She nods. “A servant will inform you when dinner is ready.”

Gathering your skirt, you make your way up the steps to the east wing, where the guest chambers are.

Your eyes find the path to the west wing, where the royal families' rooms can be found. Soon enough, you would be heading there instead of east. Hopefully, the Prince will be amicable to live with.

The chambers reserved for you are exactly how you remember them. It's spotless and feels homey despite you only visiting a few times a year.

This is the only place you can be truly alone. Your father, try as he might, has no power here.

You step towards the balcony, opening the glass doors that lead outside. The wind caresses your skin like a soft kiss to your cheek, and you take a deep breath to savor it.

Four months.

That's all you have left. Four months of freedom here.

Another breeze passes. It carries with it a tiny dandelion wisp. Catching it almost feels like holding onto air, and yet it is there between your fingers. Small and weighing nothing, but there nonetheless.

For such a small thing, it strengthens your resolve.

You're not here for freedom. You're here to be Empress. And that's all that matters. You will not let anything get under your skin and interfere with your responsibilities.

...

So you said, only to find yourself in a very unexpected situation.

Dinner was uneventful, your only gripe was that your betrothed was not present. You had hoped to show everyone that you got along well... Even if you've only really spoken a handful of times.

However, once you returned to your chambers, you spot the balcony door open once more. Beyond it, looking out at the view of the city, was the Crown Prince himself.

You try not to let your unpreparedness get to you. Bowing respectfully, you greet him. “Good evening, Your Highness. May I ask what brings you here?”

The Prince turns to you, crossing one ankle over the other as he casually leans on the balcony.

“There you are.” Satoru says, his head tilting as he observes you.

You eye him warily, trying to decipher his intentions. If he wanted to see you, he could have simply shown up to dinner. “What are you doing?”

He steps forward. You step back. “Is it a crime to want time alone with my—”

Sighing, you should have expected him to want more time with the future—

“—wife?”

The word knocks the wind out of you.

Of all the names you have been called, ‘wife’ is a new addition to the list.

You are your parents' daughter, your country's princess, and are to be the Empire's most powerful woman.

And yet, to one person... to Satoru, you are to be his wife.

It's almost strange to think about. Your earliest memory of your betrothed is back when he was small and scrawny. It was difficult to take him seriously back then.

Now, something has changed in him. Or it could also be that he's always been like this, and this is a side to him he doesn't show to others that often.

Satoru watches you process the word, seeming to have something to say, but decides against it. You half expected him to tease you for being flabbergasted, but he patiently waits for you to speak first.

“Why are you here at this hour?”

He grins, eyes bringing shame to those distant stars hanging in the sky behind him.

“I didn't want our first meeting in ages to have so many spectators." Satoru explains. “If I had shown up earlier, the scribes would have taken note of how many times I blinked or how fast I chewed."

His jesting does not put you at ease at all. “I have a feeling you have something to say that should not be recorded or overheard.”

“That's true. However,” Satoru says pointedly, “The hour is far too late for all that I wish to say, so I will simply bid you goodnight with this...”

Out of nowhere, he pulls out a red flower with curling petals.

You keep your eyes on his as you reach for the flower's stem. Satoru watches you back, smiling softly. He's backing away before you can thank him, but he doesn't look like he minds. He seems to be happy you didn't reject it.

“Goodnight, my dear.” He bows, and makes his exit.

...Through the balcony. Again.

You step out and try to find where he disappeared to, but he's gone.

The moonlight out here allows you to get a better look at the flower. How curious. Usually, people in the Empire give roses, don't they?

The red carnation twirls between your fingers, and you think of how much more grand and tangible it is compared to the dandelion wisp that found you before dinner.

...

Carnations mean many different things, according to this book on the language of flowers you picked up. It all depends on the color.

Pink carnations symbolize fondness and remembrance. Some also consider it to mean not being able to forget someone.

White carnations mean purity, good luck, and new beginnings. It's a common way of wishing someone safe travels.

Yellow carnations have varying meanings. Sometimes, they are used for apologies. But most often they are given to express disdain, symbolizing a hopeless state of mind. You stare at the illustration next to the passage. The yellow watercolor is so bright and vibrant, it makes you wonder what it did to deserve such sad connotations.

Setting the book down for a moment, you rest your eyes by scanning the library. Countless shelves with even more countless books. A golden candlestick here. A priceless painting there. A stack of yesterday's newspaper lying a few tables away.

Something unpleasant settles in your chest. You ignore it and resume reading.

Naturally, as is the case for most red flowers, the red carnation means love. True, passionate love and affection.

You shut the book softly, tracing the embossed petals on the cover while thinking of the red carnation sitting on your bedside table.

Things could have gone worse, you suppose. At least Satoru didn't give you a striped carnation, which has no other meaning than rejection.

Secretary Mont enters the library before you could dwell more on that thought. He's arrived with several palace staff for additional wedding plans.

“Your Highness,” Only Mont greets you, but they all bow in unison.

You nod, and gesture to the table. “Be seated. Let's begin with the urgent concerns first.”

Apparently, the most urgent problem was that Satoru had not approved any of the table dressing color schemes. When you review the options, you think you can assume why. There can only be so many shades of white and cream and pearl.

“What shall we do, Your Highness?” One of the butlers ask.

“Give me a few samples, I'll talk to the Crown Prince myself.”

You almost regret saying that, because once you did, several staff began tripping over themselves, requesting you bring up other preparations with Satoru.

Secretary Mont asks if he should schedule an appointment with your betrothed, but you decline. Something tells you that he will show up again tonight.

And so, here you were after dinner in your chambers. A box of wedding planning materials rests next to you on the bed. You left the balcony doors open this time, and he shows up just as you predicted.

“Aw, were you expecting me?” He's smiling at you as he approaches, but it falters once he sees the box.

He lets out a loud breath before settling on your bed too, the box sits between you. “Alright, let's do this.”

“Start with these.” You hand him some fabric swatches, he looks at them in disdain.

“Pearl, then.” He says, barely even looking through all the options.

“Don't decide hastily.” You can't help but reprimand. “It's not just the color you have to consider, but the material as well.”

Satoru blinks, but presses his fingers to feel the texture of the fabric at your suggestion. “Is pearl not good then?”

“It's pretty, but it's too shiny.” You explain. “The sheen doesn't make it soft or comfortable to use.”

“Ah.” He breathes out, understanding what you mean.

You tell yourself your heart doesn't beat louder when he picks the one you had your eye on. Satoru holds the sample fabric up, the label attached reads ‘Snow’.

A clean, classic sort of white. Soft to the touch, almost fluffy. You don't have to tell him that you agree, he can already guess from the way you glance at him.

He doesn't need to know that your eyes strayed to his hair. Soft. Fluffy.

Clearing your throat, you change the subject by bringing out some tableware samples. “Shall we discuss these, next?”

An hour and thirty kinds of invitation cards later, a short break is due. You're writing down your decisions when Satoru calls your name.

You've moved to your desk by now, since your bed has become some sort of wedding moodboard. Something clinking together reaches your ears, and you turn to find that Satoru had tea brought up. He pours you a cup and carefully hands it to you.

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, taking a sip before turning back to the lists in front of you.

“Aren't you tired?” Satoru asks, reading your writing over your shoulder.

“This is actually quite easy for me.” You admit. “Wedding planning is unexpectedly... Pleasant.”

Satoru laughs softly. “You're probably the only one in this palace who thinks it's pleasant to work with me.”

After a moment, he continues. “I suppose... That's a good thing, if we're to be wed.”

His words make you pause writing. You suddenly feel shy, warmth spreading on your cheeks. The kind you're sure isn't from the flame crackling in the fireplace.

How silly that you're becoming bashful after being engaged to him since you were children. The thundering of your heart can wait.

“I agree.” You respond, not turning to face him. You will not allow him to see you uncomposed like you did the previous night. “I wasn't sure what to expect from our marriage, but I would appreciate it if we were companionable.”

The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly, though you do notice Satoru becoming more silent as the night goes on.

The next day, you spot Satoru speaking to foreign delegates. Something is different in the way he carries himself in front of them. His posture is that of a proper Emperor, not a cheeky prince that sneaks into your room at night.

... It's probably best that no one finds out about that, lest a scandal breaks before you even get married.

When the delegates leave, you're about to approach and greet Satoru when he, unmistakably meets your eyes, then walks in the opposite direction.

You're left there, confused and perhaps even a little hurt. But you stone your expression and carry on as if nothing has happened. Your lessons taught you to be graceful, even in times you feel anything but.

By late afternoon, it's painfully obvious that Satoru is ignoring you. When he rushes through his lunch and gets up right when you take your seat, you try your best to look unaffected.

Hopefully, you're the only one who's noticed so far. If word reaches Secretary Mont, word will reach your father... That troubles you more than you can put to words.

Satoru doesn't show up for your scheduled wedding planning session with the rest of the staff. You're careful not to say that you'll speak with your betrothed, and thankfully no one mentions it even if it shows they wish you did. You're not even sure if he'll show up at your balcony tonight.

When the hour turns ten, the time he's usually here, he isn't. You sigh and can't help feeling a little disappointed.

Perhaps you said something wrong last night. Maybe you should apologize for something. Or he could just be busy, you tell yourself. You can't expect the Crown Prince to always have time to sneak away to you, can't you?

Something taps against the glass of the balcony doors. It breaks your train of thought, and causes your heart to leap just a bit.

But when you go to check, no one's there. You open the doors to find a single red carnation, just like the one he gave the first night.

You're only barely successful at hiding your relief. You reach for it and glance around once more, just to make sure if he left any other trace of him. There are none, but after you lock the doors and turn in for the night, two carnations in a glass vase calm you in a way you hadn't let yourself feel in a long time.

...

A maid knocks at your door a tad earlier than you're used to. When you ask about what's going on, she says she has to prepare you for the Crown Prince's departure.

“He's leaving?” You ask as you rise from bed, already headed for the bathroom to clean up.

“Yes, Your Highness.” She sifts through your wardrobe for your clothes. “He is to go on a business trip to settle trade agreements.”

“How long will he be gone for?”

“I cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”

Pausing in thought, you look to the balcony doors.

A rush of determination fills you as you ask the maid, “Could you prepare something for me?”

The head butler said that he could be gone for two or three weeks. Weeks before you see that face of his, which has a surprisingly forlorn expression on it.

“Thank you for seeing me off.” Satoru acknowledges you with a smile, but his eyes reveal how tired and troubled he truly is.

You say nothing at first, silently taking steps closer to him. You could practically feel the air freeze over as everyone watching holds their breath. This is the closest the two of you have appeared in public.

You reveal a white carnation held in the hand you hid behind you. The stem is cut short, just enough so that it fits into the pocket on his coat.

“I will take care of things here while you're gone.” You assure him, taking a step back to admire how the white flower suits him.

Satoru seems to be at a loss for words, but his eyes regain their usual spark when he addresses you again. “It seems I have nothing to worry about, then.”

You feel stares at your back as the carriage departs, but pay them no mind. You intend to keep your word and perform your duties while the prince is gone.

On your way to the library, you overhear the Imperial Princess and Sir Nanami speaking to each other.

They're in the next hallway, and you were just about to turn to it when you hear your name spoken. You press your back to the wall and listen.

“I'm glad Her Highness seems to have liked my brother.” The princess says. “And of course, I know Satoru would have been over the moon because of that flower.”

Sir Nanami hums. “His concerns were nothing to be worried about after all.”

The princess laughs. “Oh, what was it again that he said? That she friendzoned him?”

“It was that she companion-zoned him.”

You huff quietly. So that's why Satoru had been ignoring you yesterday.

“I look forward to their blooming relationship. I'm sure Her Highness will come around.” Is the last you hear of their conversation as they continue on their way, their footsteps fading further into the hall.

Come around? To what?

A grandfather clock chimes to signal the change of the hour, and you realize you've dilly-dallied for long enough. The rest of your way to the library has no people whispering about you and your betrothed or the flower you sent him off with.

But you would be lying if you said you'd forgotten about what the princess said.

...

Ever since Satoru left, he's been writing you letters. He said his sister gave him the idea.

You've given up on replying on every letter he sends. It seems as though he writes to you daily, and you simply can't keep up. He insists on writing no matter how busy he gets.

His fifth letter is so short that it should be called a note:

‘The flowers here are lovely. I had a bookmark made for you.’

That same bookmark, a dried pink carnation, sits between the pages of the novel you're currently reading. It makes you consider pressing the red carnations Satoru had given you so that they're not just left to wilt.

You write back once a week. But what you lack in quantity of letters you make up with the number of pages you write, and you tell Satoru as such. There are many things you want to report, so you don't hold back on anything.

Well, perhaps you don't quite tell him that you can't fall asleep until you spot the moon through the balcony glass. Or that you think of him whenever you're not distracted enough.

In Satoru's fifteenth letter, he brings the unfortunate news that his return will be delayed. He will have been gone for four weeks before he comes home, and the journey back will take three days at the latest.

Unable to express your disappointment outright, you instead imply that he should make haste for the wedding preparations. That he shouldn't miss the food tasting or the floral arrangements.

‘I trust my wife to make all the right decisions. Even if you don't, I'll consider them right anyway.’

There he goes again, calling you wife when you haven't married yet. It also dawns on you that Satoru has only ever called you by name, or addressed you as his wife. He's probably the only person who hasn't referred to you as Empress-to-be.

You're quickly learning that with Satoru, you're finding yourself again. It's rare for you to feel more than just a princess or Empress in training, but he makes it effortless with just a few words.

...

You begin counting down the days when Satoru writes that trade negotiations have finally concluded. He should be home in four days, and you can hardly wait to see his face again.

But of course, Satoru finds a way to bewilder you by arriving home early. In the middle of the night, no less. And naturally, through the balcony.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you try to decipher if his visage is a dream or a trick or the light. But when he laughs, and tells you he missed you dearly, you need no further proof.

Satoru clasps your hands with his, running his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles. Your eyes travel down to his boots, which are filthy with dirt and grass. His hair is ruffled and windswept.

“Did you,” The word settles on your tongue when you pause. “...Rush here on horseback?” You ask incredulously.

Satoru laughs again, and wraps his arms around you. “Are you complaining?”

You blink, and tentatively wrap your arms around his middle. “No. I'm glad you're home.”

Satoru is so warm compared to the night air that surrounds you. You almost complain when he pulls back, but the serious look in his eye makes you keep your mouth shut.

He clears his throat and rubs your shoulders before taking your hands again. You're completely shocked when he sinks to one knee.

“I know that we're already engaged.” Satoru begins. “I know that we've been preparing for this for years, but I just wanted to ask you properly. Because you deserve it.”

He pulls out a ring, a diamond shines at its center.

“Marry me, and I shall spend every moment of my life proving my love for you.”

“Yes. I will.” You respond, and he slips the ring onto your finger. How does he keep getting more and more lovely?

You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up to you. You kiss him, and the air ignites like a spark brought to life.

It's tender, and careful, and carries all the things you wish to say to him. How you missed him. How you love the flowers he gives you. How excited you are to have him by your side for forever.

When you break apart, he seems surprised to find you reflecting his happiness back at him. He's about to speak, but not before he can resist the urge to kisses you again.

You smile into the kiss, but place a hand on his chest, pushing him to ask, “You were about to say?”

“...I've always known I would treat you right when we got engaged. That was always a given.” Satoru cradles your face gently, making you feel like the most precious in the world to him. “You were chosen because you're smart, and you worked harder than anyone else.”

“...But I saw you one day, when we were kids.” He speaks carefully. “You were trying your best to impress your father, but not at all happy...”

“From then on, I decided to make it my mission to make you smile.” To prove his point, he places his thumbs at the corners of your mouth to drag them up playfully. You laugh and swat his hands away.

“A real smile, just like that! None of those diplomatic half-smiles you always throw out to please people. That won't work on me.”

“Before you are the Empress, you are my wife. And I will love and treasure you as such.”

...

He says those same words at the wedding. You jest that he has no originality, but it brings you to tears just the same.

The wedding happens in the palace gardens, surrounded by countless beautiful flowers that dance and sway under the sun when the wind blows. Everything is, in every sense of the word, perfect.

For this moment, you are not the Empress. Not yet. The world can wait a day, you decide. Everything else can wait while you bask in the glowing warmth this man offers you.

As you leave the ceremony behind with your arms linked together, Satoru leans into your ear so you can hear him over the cheering crowd. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Petals shower you both on your way, and you can't help but smile. “Just that we're perfect together.”

Satoru laughs in agreement. “Damn right we are.”

Several staff are positioned at the exit of the gardens, ready to escort you both to the carriages that will take you through the Empire to greet your subjects... But something makes you pause at the end of the aisle.

You pluck a red carnation from one of the floral displays before turning to your husband. You tuck the flower into the chest pocket of his suit, snug in front of his pocket square.

When you glance up to see his reaction, he's already beaming at you, looking indescribably happy.

“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand and pressing the softest of kisses on top of your wedding ring.

When you sent him away back then, you remember thinking how the white carnation matched well with him. Looking at him now, however, the red flower over his heart seems to overflow with all the love and all the words that need not be spoken. You like this one much better.

He leans down to pluck another identical flower, and gently tucks it behind your ear.

Satisfied, he holds your hand tight, leading you to the rest of your lives with the assurance that he will never let go.

taglist♡— @flowerjun @mellozhi

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vague-humanoid · 1 year

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Increasingly, it is not safe to be in public, to be human, to be fallible. I’m not quoting breathless journalism about rising crime or conservative talking points about America falling into ruin. The ruin I’m thinking of isn’t in San Francisco or Chicago or at the southern border. The ruin is woven into the fabric of America. It’s seeping into all of us. All across the country, supposedly good, upstanding citizens are often fatally enforcing ever-changing, arbitrary and personal norms for how we conduct ourselves.

In Kansas City, Mo., Ralph Yarl, a Black 16-year-old, rang the wrong doorbell. He was trying to pick up his younger brothers and was simply on the wrong street, Northeast 115th Street instead of Northeast 115th Terrace, a harmless mistake. Andrew Lester, 84 and white, shot him twice and said, according to Ralph, “Don’t come around here.” Bleeding and injured, Ralph went to three different houses, according to a family member, before those good neighbors in a good, middle-class neighborhood helped him.

In upstate New York, a 20-year-old woman, Kaylin Gillis, was looking for a friend’s house in a rural area. The driver of the car she was in turned into a driveway and the homeowner, Kevin Monahan, 65, is accused of firing twice at the car and killing Ms. Gillis.

In Illinois, William Martys was using a leaf blower in his yard. A neighbor, Ettore Lacchei, allegedly started an argument with Mr. Martys and, the police say, killed him.

Two cheerleaders were shot in a Texas parking lot after one, Heather Roth, got into the wrong car. One of her teammates, Payton Washington, was also shot. Both girls survived, with injuries.

In Cleveland, Texas, a father asked his neighbor Francisco Oropesa to stop shooting his gun on his porch because his baby was trying to sleep. Mr. Oropesa walked over to the father’s house and has been charged with killing five people, including an 8-year-old boy, with an AR-15-style rifle. Two of the slain adults were found covering children, who survived.

At a Walgreens in Nashville, Mitarius Boyd suspected that Travonsha Ferguson, who was seven months pregnant, was shoplifting. Instead of calling the police, he followed Ms. Ferguson and her friend into the parking lot and, after one of the women sprayed mace in his face, according to Mr. Boyd, began firing. Ms. Ferguson was rushed to the hospital, where she had an emergency C-section and her baby was born two months early.

And sometimes there is no gun. On Monday, Jordan Neely, a Michael Jackson impersonator experiencing homelessness, was yelling and, according to some subway riders, acting aggressively on an F train in New York City. “I don’t have food, I don’t have a drink, I’m fed up,” Mr. Neely cried out. “I don’t mind going to jail and getting life in prison. I’m ready to die.” Was he making people uncomfortable? I’m sure he was. But his were the words of a man in pain. He did not physically harm anyone. And the consequence for causing discomfort isn’t death unless, of course, it is. A former Marine held Mr. Neely in a chokehold for several minutes, killing the man. News reports keep saying Mr. Neely died, which is a passive thing. We die of old age. We die in a car accident. We die from disease. When someone holds us in a chokehold for several minutes, something far worse has occurred.

A man actively brought about Mr. Neely’s death. No one appears to have intervened during those minutes to help Mr. Neely, though two men apparently tried to help the former Marine. Did anyone ask the former Marine to release Mr. Neely from his chokehold? The people in that subway car prioritized their own discomfort and anxiety over Mr. Neely’s distress. All of the people in that subway car on Monday will have to live with their apparent inaction and indifference. Now that it’s too late, there are haunting, heartbreaking images of Mr. Neely, helpless and pinned, still being choked. How does something like this happen? How does this senseless, avoidable violence happen? Truly, how? We all need to ask ourselves that question until we come up with an acceptable answer.

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souliebird · 8 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 5]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

words: 4.4k

It has been one week since you saw Matt Murdock on the evening news, and it feels like it has been a complete whirlwind. First, you reintroduced yourself to him and let him know he was a father, then you had a nice little outing, and to tie it all up, a trip to the doctors to confirm what you already knew.

Matthew Murdock is the father of your daughter.

It is nice to have an official statement from a doctor and now you can start the process of changing Minnie's paperwork to include his name. You have to go to the courthouse to file for an updated birth certificate. Matt has very kindly offered to take that task on for you - he goes to the courthouse often for his job and he knows the ins-and-outs of navigating legal paperwork. You just have to go and drop off the right documentation.

You had a brief call last night, after Minnie had been put down, and decided that you would visit his office today to do just that. You are going to kill two birds with one stone - hand over what needs to be filed and give Matt more time with his daughter.

To your great surprise, your timid little Mouse absolutely adores him. She was not happy to have to be at the doctor's office yesterday and was on the verge of tears before he showed up. Her whole mood shifted, and she had spent the brief time you were in the waiting room and exam room telling Matt about different things around them.

You have a feeling, when you sit down and tell her the truth, she is going to be thrilled.

You told her that you are going to visit Matt at work today, and all morning she has been hunched over her sketchbook making pictures for him while you try to get in some hours at work. Try being the key word, as you've been thoroughly distracted by today's news cycle.

You were half listening to a puff piece about something or other when breaking news flashed across the screen. A neighborhood in Connecticut has been leveled by some sort of explosion, killing hundreds. They don't know if it was an accident or some sort of attack - the epicenter of the blast was a school, so it could potentially be either. You pray it was a freak accident, some faulty pipeline or a weird meteor, because the world doesn't need any more horribleness in it.

The idea that it might have been an attack makes you nervous. You've been through two horrible attacks on New York, and you didn't realize another big event so close to home would shake you so hard.

It scares you that you have to raise Minnie in such a harsh world, where monsters of all kinds are very very real and you don't know who you can rely on. The police and government have been shown to be all kinds of corrupt and people who can shoot laser beams fight each other in the skies.

You end up clocking out and going to sit with Minnie to get yourself to stop your doom-listening. She's got a few drawings scattered around the table and you pick up the one closest to you, smiling at her handy work.

You recognize the shapes as her interpretation of people - oblongs with stick arms and noodle legs. Unknowingly, she's made her first new family portrait. There are three blob-people all holding hands: you suspect you're the big orange one with a smile, Minnie is the little pink one in the middle with what you guess are pigtails, and Matt is the black one with red eyes, who is also holding a stick. To confirm, you ask her.

"Is this one Mister Matt?"

Her head shoots up and a big grin spreads across her face, "Yeah! And that's you and that's me and we're gonna go to the zoo!" There is a little flurry of motion and suddenly you are getting a picture show. She holds up the paper she was working on - there's another family drawing, but this time there's green scribbles all around you and a blue square with zig zags all over it. You guess that is some sort of animal.

"You want to go to the zoo with Mister Matt?" You ask, examining her masterpiece.

"Yeah!" She says, pulling over another picture that you know are her versions of flowers, even if they are all different colors. "And the park!"

"And the park? Wow, that's a lot of things to do. Do you want to ask him if he wants to go to the zoo with us when we see him today?" Minnie eagerly nods at the question and that makes you smile. "Okay, we can invite him to the zoo. When are we going to the zoo?"

The question makes her bounce in excitement, "My birthday!"

You laugh at her enthusiasm and give her a little back rub, "Exactly. We're going to go for your birthday. And get a big cake with whatever you want on it." That makes her a giggly mess and you temporarily forget all the bad things in the world.

You hand her back her drawing before kissing the top of her hair, "How about you finish this one up and we get ready to go see Mister Matt? We can only visit for a little bit, because he's working, but I bet he'll love everything you made him."

Greedy little hands take back the paper and instantly Mouse is hunched back over her zoo scene, purple crayon in hand. You get up and go to make sure that you have everything you need to bring to Matt in order. You are extremely lucky that the doctor has the ability to print out things in Braille, so you don't need to make an extra stop to get things translated.

You debate bringing Matt lunch, but ultimately decide against it. You don't want to push too much too fast, and you think it might be a little weird for his coworkers, to see a random person bring him homemade lunch. You know he hasn't told anyone yet about yourself and Minnie - he had shyly admitted it didn't feel real until the test results were given and you completely get it.

You tidy up until you spy Mouse dropping her crayons into her bucket and cleaning up her drawing area. You let her do her thing, then approach, "Let's put your drawings with the other things we need to give Mister Matt. That way they won't get lost or wrinkled."

She nods like you've just said something very wise and gathers up her stack of papers before handing them over. There's five in total; the three she showed you and two more full of colorful lines. You decide you'll listen in on her explanation to Matt on those two, as you're curious as to what goes on in her little mind.

Once everything is safe and ready to go, it's just a matter of getting shoes on. You go with your sensible sneakers while Minnie opts for her frog themed Wellingtons. The plan is for both of you to walk to the office, and after one final wallet-keys-phone check in your purse, you head out hand-in-hand.

It's mid-morning, so foot traffic is decent, but not heavy - nothing that makes Minnie too uncomfortable. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon, and it makes you wonder if the rain that has been promised in the forecast will be coming sooner than expected and you are glad this outing is the only one you have planned. Taking Minnie around in the rain is never fun. It always seems like everything becomes more bustling in the rain and trying to navigate that with a crying toddler just makes you want to cry as well.

But the promise of her new favorite person and mild weather has her walking like the born and bred New Yorker she is - a determined little pout with no nonsense steps. No one will be trying to sell her things on the sidewalks once she gets bigger. If she had a different personality, you'd want to teach her to say "Hey, I'm walking here" just to hear a toddler say it.

As you spy the building Matt's office is in, you realize you should have sent him a text to say you were on your way. You did let him know vaguely what time you planned to stop by and he had assured you that they had no appointments - it was catch up on paperwork day - but that didn't mean walk-in clients hadn't come by. You're so close to already being there that you think the gesture is pointless, so you just keep walking until you get to the building.

"This is where we are going," you tell Minnie as you approach. You scoop her up to show her the business directory on the outside of the building. There aren't very many plaques to begin with, so it's easy to find the Nelson, Murdock, and Page one. "That is where Mister Matt works with his friends."

She leans out and feels over the embossed sign, running her fingers over the different letters. "'M'! For Minnie!" She says, pointing out the letter with a big smile.

"Exactly. Mister Matt's last name starts with M, too. That word is his last name - Murdock."

That gets her to turn back to the sign, fingers dancing over the letters, brows knitting with curiosity, "How is it spelled?"

You spell out Murdock for her and Minnie repeats each letter after you. You do this a few times until she's able to say it out loud on her own. You don't know how long she'll retain the information, as spelling isn't really on the board yet, but you're happy she's interested. You set her back down and she makes a beeline up the steps, grabbing and pulling at the door with all her three-year-old strength.

The lobby to the building is sparse, with basically only an elevator and staircase, with a door to what you suspect is a supply closet. "We're going up two staircases," you tell your daughter.

"Two!" She confirms before taking off towards the stairs. You have a brief moment of panic that she's going to zip up both sets faster than you can catch her, but to your great amusement, she grabs a hold of the banister with both hands and pretends to use it like a mountaineering rope to climb the stairs. She even adds little fake huffs and puffs. You follow behind her, ready to catch her if she slips. She doesn't, and when you get to the floor Matt's office is on, she turns to beam at you, clearly proud of herself, "We did it!"

"We did it," you parrot, offering out your hand again. She takes it and you lead her to the correct door. The same plaque that was on the exterior of the building also hangs beside their door and Minnie astutely points to it.

"Murdock!"

"That's right, it says Nelson, Murdock, and Page."

"Can I knock?" Mouse asks, raising her fist to do just that.

You hum, then gently explain, "This is business, which means work. For work, we don't have to knock. We can go in if it is open."

As soon as you say that she's opening the door and marching inside and you quickly follow her.

Matt's law partners, Foggy and Karen, are in the reception area with a man you assume is a client of theirs, talking in hushed annoyed sounding whispers. He radiates intimidation, with a huge black eye and what looks to be a makeshift cast made of duct tape around his right wrist. The three of them turn to look at you and you get the sense Minnie had the right idea in asking if she should knock first.

Your little one quickly latches onto your leg, turning timid in the space of a second and you can't really blame her. Part of you wants to turn and run.

Karen recovers first, breaking away from the two exasperated men to step towards you and going into receptionist mode, "Hi. You were here last week to meet with Matt, right?"

"Uh, yes, that's right. Is he, uh, available?" You ask, feeling like you no longer know how to speak English. The energy in the room is not a pleasant one and you very much feel like you've interrupted something important.

"He's on a call currently but I'll let him know you are here," Karen replies in a voice far kinder than what she uses to address the men behind her a beat later. She turns to them and points to the office you know is not Matt's. "In there. Now."

Foggy throws up his hands, like he's frustrated with whatever is going on and disappears into the other room. The man you don't know doesn't follow, eyes on you and your daughter as Karen crosses the room to knock on Matt's door before opening it and slipping into the office. You quickly decide you are not going to make eye contact with him, instead ducking your head and putting a comforting hand on Minnie's head. She's practically hidden herself behind your legs, clinging to your pants so tightly you fear they might rip.

"I like your boots," the man says into the quietness. You expect him to sound like gravel, but his gruff voice is rather soft, and you get the feeling he understands how to talk to children "My daughter used to have boots like those."

Part of you wants to tell the man to not talk to your daughter, but that would be rude and just because he looks like he's been through the ringer doesn't mean he's a bad man. You decide to let her determine how she wants to proceed.

You feel Minnie poke her head out from where she's hidden herself. At first, you don't think she's going to reply, as you know how she is, but she surprises you yet again by mumbling out, "They're froggies."

"Yeah? You like frogs?"

Mouse somehow tightens her grip, "I like animals." She presses her face against your leg, then admits, a little louder, "we're gonna to the zoo for my birthday."

That makes the man smile, and that changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly he looks friendly and kind and not like he's likely to stab you, "That's a good place to go for your birthday. How old are you gonna be?"

Before she can respond, the door to Matt's office swings open and Karen stalks out, followed by Matt, who seems much less agitated than everyone else. The blonde points to the unknown man, a little scowl on her face, "What did I say?"

The man holds up his hands defensively, stepping away from Karen and towards the office he was previously told to go in, "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'm going." That doesn't seem to help soothe her at all, as she grabs the man by the bicep and frog-marches him to join Foggy, closing the door behind them.

"They didn't make you wait long, did they?" Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him. There is a cut on his lip that wasn't there the last time you saw him, and your instinct is to ask if he is okay, but you don't know if you are at that level with him yet.

So instead, you address his question, "No, no, we just got here."

He motions back to his office, a smile spreading across his face, and you almost forget about the cut, "Come on back and we can review everything."

Minnie lets go of your pants only to take your hand again and you lead her into the other room. As you pass Matt, she looks up at him and gives a tiny wave.

"Hi, Mister Matt."

Matt's shoulders visibly relax at her greeting, and you can't help but start to smile, "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"

"Good! I maded you pictures," she says proudly. That causes him to pause as he starts to follow you into his office. You can tell he is surprised by the news - his voice gets a little choked up when he responds.

"You made me some pictures?"

"They are very good pictures," you advise, squeezing Minnie's hand slightly before letting go, "Do you want to tell Mister Matt what you drew for him?" She nods eagerly, so you point to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Go sit like a big girl and you can tell him."

She makes a dash for the chair, and you take the time to address Matt, "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead."

He shakes his head, and as he walks past you to go behind the desk, he reaches out and brushes his hand along your arm. A little shiver runs up your spine at the touch and you tell yourself the action was so he could orient himself. "Not a problem, I knew you were coming. How is everything?"

"Everything is good," you reply, a little shyer than you intend to. "I, uh, have everything for you. Is there anything else I need to fill out?"

Matt shakes his head, "Just a signature and date. You've done all the work for me already. I don't think I've ever had to file where I don't need to actually do anything but sign the document. It's a refreshing change."

"Do you know how long it will take to process?" You ask as you move to join Minnie in sitting. "The website gave multiple timelines and I just want to be realistic."

Matt takes his seat with a cocky grin, "Not long at all, I know a few judges I can ask to push it through."

You flush at the idea of him asking a favor to a judge on your account, "That's not necessary, Matt, I don't mind waiting."

He shakes his head, getting that soft look again, "I don't want to wait. I want it to be official in the eyes of the government."

His words make you feel even warmer, and you distract yourself by pulling the file with all the paperwork out of your purse and pass it over to him. "Minnie's additions are at the bottom of the stack. The last five pages"

His fingers twitch slightly, and you wonder if he wants to flip right to those. You get your answer quickly.

"Minnie, is it okay if I go over the paperwork with your mom before you tell me about your pictures?"

"It's okay!" She replies, her voice much more cheerful now that you are alone with Matt. "Do you needs help?"

Her sweetness makes Matt smile more and he shakes his head, "Not right now, sweetheart. I need to read, and I can do that with my fingers, but after that you can help with some other things."

"Okay," she says happily, kicking her feet a little bit.

You catch her attention and motion to your purse, "Do you want a toy while you wait?"

She shakes her head and beams up at you, "No thank you, I'm a big girl!"

Both you and Matt chuckle at her declaration and he moves to open the file.

"There's multiple copies of everything," you tell him as you move onto business, "One printed text and one in Braille for the courts and the same for you. I have the same at home, as well. They are bundled in packets. The court papers are on top, Braille first."

He thanks you then begins to read the forms. Mouse sits up straighter in her chair to try and see what he is doing. She can just peek over the edge, and she watches in fascination as his fingers move over the pages. You wait quietly, not wanting to distract in any way.

"Everything appears to be in order. We will just need a signature," Matt says after a minute.

"Should I do that now?" You ask. The response is him offering you a pen, so you lean in to sign the various forms. As you set each document aside, Matt adds his own signature. It is silly how giddy you feel just having the forms finally completed. You don't know how long you've had just blank copies, waiting to be filed.

"And done," Matt says with a final flick of his pen on the last page. "I'm going to the courthouse on Tuesday, so I'll get it processed then. I'll push to get an updated certificate as quickly as possible."

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling like a crazy person. This isn't some dream or far off fantasy. Matt isn't just saying he wants to be Minnie's father. He is following through, with urgency. This is something he wants and it's almost surreal for you - you are so used to promises being broken and no one being on the same page as you in your desires. Even if this is all for Minnie and not for you, it is still on the edge of overwhelming for you.

You never thought you'd be so happy over paperwork.

"Thank you, Matt," you whisper, leaning back into your seat to sit properly.

Immediately, Minnie parrots you, thanking Matt even though she has no idea what is going on.

"No, thank you. Thank you both," he says, and you wonder if he is also holding back from smiling. He gathers the papers and sets them aside before running his fingers over the folder you gave him and addressing his daughter. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you want to come tell me what you drew?"

You expect Minnie to stand on the chair and even prepare yourself to balance her, but that does not happen. She hops down and scurries around the desk to be at Matt's side and a moment later, he is pushing his chair back and she is climbing up into his lap. Embarrassment rushes through you - she's only ever behaved like this with you. She actually used to fuss and cry if anyone else tried to hold her. You haven't seen her sit in anyone else's lap since she had a say in who gets to hold her.

"Minnie!" You scold but Matt quickly shakes his head as he helps her up.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he tells you even though he looks completely shocked. If he wasn't her father, you wouldn't allow this, especially with someone so new to her, but he is her father, even if she doesn't know, so you don't tell her to get down.

Instead, you give a stern frown, "Minnie, you still need to ask before climbing on anyone, okay? Can you apologize?"

Your little girl nods, then looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Mister Matt."

"It's okay, sweetheart. Like I said, I don't mind, but your Mommy is right, and you should ask so I know you are there. Next time, you'll know. Now, your Mommy said there were five pictures. Which do you want to start with?" He asks, scooting his chair back to the desk while wrapping one arm around Minnie's waist to keep her secure.

Once she's able to, she leans in and picks up the first drawing in the stack. It is the family portrait, and you quickly get your phone out so you can record this interaction as Minnie lays out the picture. She then takes Matt's free hand and guides it to the paper before letting go to point at the circle that represents him.

"This is you," she tells him. He quickly finds where she is pointing and begins to trace the figure.

"That's me?" And there is definitely more than a little bit of emotion in his voice.

"Uh-huh, and that is me and Mommy and we're gonna go to see the duckies. Mommy said we can go again. But we're gonna get ice cream too. And a balloon," she says, moving her little finger all over the page.

You watch Matt's finger follow hers - first over the doodle of himself, then Minnie's, and finally yours. Then, he traces back to the center figure. "We're holding hands?" He asks tentatively.

"Yup!" She answers, popping the p. "Mommy says we gotta hold hands if we go outside."

Matt licks his lips a little and you see his muscles flex under his jacket as he holds Minnie a little more firmly to his chest, like he doesn't want to let go of her. "That's a good rule."

"Mommy makes good rules," your little one replies wisely. That makes your ego sing a little. Mouse has always been good at doing what she's told, and you are proud that she understands your rules keep her safe.

Before she moves onto the next picture, you gently prompt her. "Sweetie, was there something you wanted to ask Mister Matt?"

Matt's head jerks up at that, looking right to you with brows slightly knit. Minnie bounces in his lap just a little, squirming so she can turn to look up at him, "I'm gonna go to the zoo! For my birthday! Do you wanna go?"

His lips part in surprise at the question and before you know it, he has both his arms wrapped around Mouse, hugging her to him. She instantly responds, looping her little arms around his neck and squeezing back. He rests his cheek against her head, and you see him slightly rock her from side to side. "I would love to go with you to the zoo, sweetheart."

Minnie giggles into his neck and you one hundred percent know that the transition to suddenly having two parents is not going to be hard for her at all. It might be confusing because Matt won't be living with you, but you have never seen her so comfortable with someone who isn't you. You know it's not just because he gave her a toy. They just click together so well.

You switch from video to your camera so you can sneak as many pictures as you can of Matt and Minnie hugging. They've completely forgotten about you and that is a-okay.

In this moment, nothing else matters to you - not the strange man in the other office or the devastation a few states over or all the other trivial things that nag you and make your stomach turn.

Your world is right in front of you and for the first time in a very, very long time, you really, truly believe everything is going to be just fine.

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you #theres plot hints

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i-hate-accidents · 1 month

Note

Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?

the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3

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i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: brief description of grief from losing a parent

word count: 623

author’s note: the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~

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anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.

"brother," begins benedict, "i—"

"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.

"if you just let me explain—"

"have you compromised y/n?"

"what!"

"i said! have you compromised y/n!"

"how can you even insinuate that! of course i have not!"

"and why should i trust what you say?"

"because i am your brother!"

"precisely! you are my brother! you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"

that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.

"well! i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.

"and you expect me to believe that? when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"

lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory. the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—

"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say. are you finally admitting to your guilt?"

"we were discussing my art! that is all!"

"i am not a fool, benedict!"

"you look like one!"

"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady! our friend! how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"

"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"

anthony shakes his head.

"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"

it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.

benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.

"benedict, please. your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope. good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."

"i have not said anything of the sort!"

"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"

benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.

of course i do. of course i love y/n.

he swallows.

"it matters not what i feel. it matters what she deserves."

y/n deserves someone good. someone who will not hurt her. someone who is not me.

anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity. still, it reassures him. anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had. it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives. whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.

anthony sighs.

"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"

benedict rolls his eyes.

"this is where all my art is! but it shan't happen again."

"oh, that i will make certain."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion? you have completely disgraced y/n!"

"nothing! happened!"

"bedchamber! together! ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure. "i am done with this conversation. we have kept y/n waiting long enough. we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event. we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."

benedict puts his hands over his face. of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Acceptance

Sometimes, accepting that your past is yours is the hardest thing to do.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, this one's a little heavy, Hurt and comfort

Length: uuuuh 3k-ish.

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Considering he knew that you'd figure it out sooner rather than later, he's honestly a little surprised how much this is bothering him. Even years after everything happened, after all the work he's put into becoming more than just his past, it's still haunting him everywhere he goes.

Jungkook wanted to stay alone by pure choice. He doesn't want to give into some primal urges and get lost in it, to the point of morals and worth being thrown out the window. He knows that his kind- or at least, the kind his father cursed upon him with his partial genes- doesn't value emotional connections as much as other beings of the galaxy do. But still.

What that man did was unforgivable.

Jungkook doesn't remember his mother. He's sure he never met her- or maybe only as an infant, making him forget what she looked like. What he does know is that feeling of coldness he always received from his father- someone who should've raised him, or at least let the rest of the crew raise him. But that man would not let anyone care for him- Jungkook had to basically fight for his place, a place that wasn't even existing in the first place.

Nothing he could do would ever prove his worth to that man, because that man saw him as nothing but an accident. Something that should not have happened.

She was a great mother. Still is, even if Jungkook doesn't visit her much. She respects him, and his personal decisions- and that's more than he could ever ask for.

So, at the age of barely fourteen, he left the ship- with a bag of clothes and a bit of money from a crewmember, left alone on a planet near Cryon, where he met Seokjin and his mother. The young hybrid had instantly taken a liking to him, and after his mother learned of Jungkook's situation, she took him in- and willingly took on the role of a parental figure, no matter how much people looked at her oddly for her now two children that looked nothing like her.

But she cared for him.

For a long time, Jungkook had found comfort in his lifestyle. He wouldn't hurt anyone ever like he'd been hurt before, because he never attached himself to anyone or anything past friendliness. Jimin was an exception- but even he doesn't really get past his shell, never able to catch a glimpse of his heart.

And then came you.

You're nothing special. Just like his mother, you're a simple human being, cast aside with nowhere to go. And maybe that's why he wanted to shoot you so badly when he first saw you- because he took so much pity on you, that he felt like he'd be a worse person to let you live instead of giving you an end to your suffering. Humans are seen as nothing but greedy little parasites- they take and take and take and fight for nothing but their own self-worth.

And then you opened up. Every day you spent with him seemed to fuel your soul once more, charging up your will to live as you stopped trying to make him discard you at any given chance. And suddenly, he no longer saw the same victim as his mother once was in you- he saw someone. You're no longer just a being worth pity- you're you.

And he started to actually enjoy your company.

Especially after doing something like you did back with the vendor- you've proven yourself as someone that can and will decide what she wants to do. You didn't have to do this for him, and you know it, he knows that you know it. And he also knows that you didn't do it for him anyways, even if you think you did. Because you're basically defending your place in his life- on his ship.

And that's what scares him. That's what made him react like he did, yesterday.

You're not so easy to push around any longer. You're no longer someone who will just do as he says, and he wants that for you- you deserve your autonomy, you deserve to be able to make these decisions. But those things always come with a price.

And yes- maybe he's scared of you.

Because the longer you stay, the closer you get, the more it'll bug him or even hurt when you decide to move on from him. For years, Jungkook has feared hurting others- when in reality, he just got tired of being the one getting hurt. And now, with you in his life, it's already happening- because just sneaking a small glimpse at the security camera of your room shows you just quietly sitting on your bed, hugging your knees, waiting, thinking. And it hurts. He doesn't want you to be locked up like that. He wants you here, where he can see you, where you can talk, and where he can watch you knit your stupid little ball-shaped animals that you've hung everywhere at this point.

He likes them. Because they prove that you're actually here, that you're alive with him, and that you're not just wishful thinking.

His thumb runs over the little crooked horn of the goat you've knitted, that he's taken for himself now as it's attached to his keychain. He's been unkind and most of all unreasonable- but he doesn't know what to do now. You clearly want to stay, and it's also pretty obvious that you've found somewhat of an interest in him- and that terrifies him.

Because what if he does end up like him? What if he does fall into the same habits and behaviors as he did?

And how can he not, when you're already infesting his mind, without even doing anything at all?

He's forever branded as the 'accidental' son of a slave trader, a mistake that shouldn't have happened to begin with, and cost someone their life. He's no one you should associate with, let alone get involved with. You don't know who he is, what he is, and what kind of stigma he carries around. You've got no idea who you're currently traveling with, and maybe he needs to force you to face it.

Maybe if he shows you who he really is, you'll finally let him go.

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You're not too sure why you're so unable to just wait things out. He's clearly gotten upset yesterday, after you mentioned that you knew that he was partially human- but why?

There's no way he despises the entire human race- because he has been quite kind to you, even though he didn't have to be. Even his proposal of letting you stay with Seokjin instead of having to 'wait out' his whole… situation, was one of kindness. He could've just told you to stay in your room, but instead, he thought of a more comfortable alternative for you, despite the trouble of traveling and time cost.

So why did that rub him so wrongly when you mentioned it?

There's not much time to think about that however, as the door hisses open- causing you to hide under the blanket you previously had over your shoulders in a panic, the reaction almost instinctual. You can only feel the bed dip a little under his weight as he sits down on the edge of it, and when you peek out, you can see that he's not even looking at you. Instead, his hands are holding his keychain with your knitted little goat attached- fingers playing around with it in a nervous manner.

"My mother was a prostitute." He starts, voice low and without much emotion to it. "My father… enjoyed her services so much, that he bought her." He explains, and you slowly sit up, blanket falling from your head to rest on your shoulders instead. "Chances of.. pregnancy were low- considering she was human, and my father was not." Jungkook says, while you just watch him, not moving much.

"But it happened anyways."

You're watching him, staying right where you are- his back still turned towards you, while he continues to occupy himself with the little yarn toy you made. "I don't remember her. I only know that she died, at some point." He shrugs to himself. "Not like it matters. Neither of them thought of me as something other than an accident." He scoffs, and you feel the need to comfort him-

but you don't know how.

"So.. that's why you hate your human side?" You wonder, but he shakes his head.

"I don't hate it." He denies. "I just.. hate being reminded of what I am, I guess." Jungkook tries to explain. "I'm known as the son of a guy who knocked up a human prostitute. I'm a bastard who never lived up to his father's expectations." He growls mostly. "I'm nothing but a joke to most people who know my father. And you'll be nothing but a joke either, if you continue to travel with me." He turns towards you, looking over his shoulder at your knees- unable to quite face you fully.

"You're Jungkook." You say, and he freezes- before he slowly let's his eyes travel upwards to your face, eyes swirling colors, emotions unsure.

"..what?" He breathes out, genuinely unsure. He knows who he is. What the hell do you mean by that?

"You're Jungkook." You repeat, shrugging. "You're a shipcaptain. A vendor. Traveler." You start to count, and his irises start to change- slowly seemingly settling into a soft, warm hazel- timid, but appreciative almost.

Looking up the meanings of colors in your free time is really starting to pay off.

"You're not your father. Or your mother." You shake your head. "Neither will you be like your children, if you ever have some. I'm not like my parents either, and neither is anyone else." You explain. "We're all just in control of ourselves. The only life I have any control over is my own, and the only life you have control over is yours." You tell him, slowly moving a bit closer as he leans his head down to look at the floor again. "You can't change your past. You can't erase it either."

"So I'm just cursed with it." He scoffs at no one.

"Just as long as you don't accept it." You shrug next to him, your legs now dangling off the edge of the bed, bare feet swinging back and forth next to his boots which are firmly planted on the floor. "The moment you accept that that's a part of you, you can move on. Because you maybe can't change your past-" You say, bumping your shoulder into his side to lift the mood a little. "-but you can control your future."

"What's the point if no one cares about anything but that?" He argues, eyes a grim grey color. "It doesn't matter. I don't want you to be stuck with.. a label like that too." He shakes his head.

"I'm not like you though." You huff, crossing your arms, making him look at you. "I don't care."

"You don't care that people will think I'm just doing the same thing he did?" He challenges, looking at you with a fiery gaze. This is not going according to his plan. "You're telling me you don't give a shit about the fact that everyone who knows him, will see you and immediately think of you as nothing but a sex slave?" he argues, standing up to instead stand in front of you, hands pushing into the mattress right next to your thighs, face only inches from yours. "You don't get to lie to me and say that you don't care about that." He growls. "I don't accept you sitting here, trying to convince me that you won't mind being known as the human plaything of the bastard who couldn't even earn his spot in the crew of a slave trader." He growls.

"I don't mind." You answer, summoning all of your confidence not to flinch, even with his angry red gaze on you, noses almost touching.

"Why." He quietly sneers, clearly agitated. "How can you not care?!" He barks at you, and you do lean back a tiny bit at that- heart beating a bit faster from the sheer force of his emotions.

"If a tree falls down in the woods and no one's around to hear it, does it make a sound?" you ask, and it's almost comical how his eyes flash a surprised white, entire body flinching back in confusion. "It's a saying on earth." You explain. "If you don't take a picture of a sunset, was it really as pretty as you remember?" You ask, and he seems entirely caught off guard.

"I don't.. understand." He admits. You giggle.

"Me calling you a bird doesn't make you one." You explain with a smile. And that, seems to click with him, as he looks at you with what you can only describe as genuine surprise. As if he's never really.. thought about it like that.

And then, you lean forward- arms pulling him closer, as you rest your head against his shoulder, holding him for a good moment.

Something he simply lets happen, because you're right.

He is in control of his life.

"I'm scared of you." He confesses, and you're a bit surprised, letting go of him as he stands upright again, arms crossed, eyes a pinkish hue.

"huh?" You ask, unsure what he's talking about.

"I.. enjoy your company." He admits. "I want you to stay. But at the same time, I want you to stay away from me." He tells you.

"..why?" You wonder, his words not making any sense.

"Because you can hurt me." He explains. "Maybe not physically- but emotionally."

"…oh." You realize what he's talking about, and now it's you who's looking away. "I mean.. uh.. I mean you're really handsome, don't get me wrong! But-" You stammer, a little bashful now. And the worst thing is that now, he seems oddly confident again- as if that was all he needed to connect the dots that you're not the only one developing deeper interest in the other.

"Handsome, huh?" He comments, arms crossed, gaze playfully pink.

"I uh- yeah? But uhm.. I mean, you know.. we're kind of just starting to really talk, so.." You mumble, looking away now. What the hell? Since when are you this shy? And how have you not noticed him not even wearing his usual uniform jacket? Those tattoos fill up his entire arm-

"That we do." He nods, feeling oddly light now that he's.. talked about this, to anyone. "And I'd.. like to continue to talk to you." He offers, making you look up at him again.

And somehow, you can read the message he's actually trying to tell you, between the lines of those words.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

You're putting a bag on the free spot near his control station, causing him to look at you with a questioning gaze.

You've both agreed on a few rules now that you're staying during his.. well, mating season issue. One of them is to keep physical contact to a minimum, and other general rules are to leave him alone if he asks you to, or to take some time to wake up before walking into the command central- though you're not sure what that one's about. It's all stuff you can follow easily though- especially if it makes him more comfortable being around you. "what's this?" He wonders, opening the bag, finding multiple, small yarn animals inside.

"I'm being productive!" You exclaim proudly. "Maybe we could sell them at our next stop? I'm sure someone has like.. maybe a currency or two left over to pay for one of them." You propose, but much to your surprise, he seems rather conflicted over it, pulling one out to inspect. It's a mouse, black bead eyes staring at him. "You don't think so?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"No, it's not that.." He mumbles. "But.. you don't have to earn money." He tells you.

"I know. But I want to." You explain yourself. "And, the ship is already full of them. We can sell those too-" You say, reaching for a short snake hanging from a screw slightly poking out the metal casing of the control screen, when he reaches out first, snatching it almost protectively away from you first.

"No-!" He barks, looking around with a sharp, cautiously yellow gaze. "…those can stay." He clears his throat, hanging the little knitted animal back where it was, adjusting it's position so it faces him. "We're not going to land anywhere within the next few weeks anyways. We'll fuel at outposts instead." He tries to justify.

"Jungkook.. we can't hoard all of them here." You giggle, and he looks to the side at that, clearly feeling called out.

"..I'm not hoarding them. I'm just saying you don't have to.. work, or anything like that." He argues back, trying to occupy himself with the control panel.

"I know. But, with the money I get from maybe selling them, I could buy more yarn or something." You shrug, sitting on one of the nearby server boxes.

"..what's wrong with me buying it for you?" He growls a bit offended, jaw clenched. You know this is probably just his hormones making him act like that, but it's still a little funny to tease him.

"Nothing!" You laugh. "I just wanna be independent. Earn my spot." You explain.

"You don't have to earn shit." He denies, tapping away on the touch panel in front of him. "...but I guess if you want to. Don't need my permission anyways." He huffs annoyed, making you laugh as you look at him almost pout to himself, trying to appear all busy when in reality, you know that the course he's flying is a safe route the autopilot has flown numerous times before.

"Hey Jungkook?" You ask, and he looks up at that, showing you his attention has been caught. "I like you." You say, and the look on his face is quite literally the most hilarious and wholesome thing you've ever seen -

Eyes wide open, round and filled with a shy blue, before it melts into pink, seconds until he closes them, and holds a hand in front of them to shield himself.

"Timeout, you demon!" He barks out, opening the main door for you. "Get out!" He yells, though it's clear that he doesn't mean it in an evil or genuinely upset manner.

Because even though you do as he says, laughing on your way to your room, he does later check in to make sure he's not actually mad at you- though it's rather sent as a text message on the control screen in your room, instead of spoken words.

Small steps, you think to yourself. Small steps.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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starry-bi-sky · 10 months

Text

part THREE of the "Clone Danny" au

the first part is linked above

SO for the "cloning" thing. Danny finding out still occurs in the same way as @minnesota-fats described it as going in their post.

In all honesty it was never his parents' intention to clone Bruce. They were intending to clone Jack instead, actually. But they made Danny shortly after they met up with their old college friend Bruce and they guess some of his DNA ended up on Jack and the hair they used was Bruce's instead.

They never thought to inform Bruce of this mistake.

And Danny? Danny is furious after he gets over his shock. Mainly over the fact that his parents have been lying to him for the last 14 years of his fucking life (i imagine he had his accident when he was 13 instead). He's more angry over that than being a clone. He can't do anything about that. He'll be upset over it later, but for now he's furious over the lie.

He goes and stays with Tucker for the night, and brings his vigilante stuff with him. he tells Tucker that he's a clone. He texts Sam and she comes over for a sleepover. He even tells Ellie later on when he's had time to sleep on it.

After the rage fades though he just... feels unsure, and a little lost. He wants to reach out to this Bruce Wayne guy and tell him that he's been cloned. It's a violation that Danny knows from when he met Ellie. God he loves her like a sister but it doesnt change the fact that he was fucking cloned. If he was Wayne, he'd want to know.

It's as if Danny found out that he was born through a sperm donor and now wanted to reach out to his biological father. but at the same time he was scared of Wayne's reaction. Wayne is a rich civilian man with a business and many kids. He has his life and family, and Danny doesn't want to.. to intrude on that with his own existence.

So he doesn't reach out. Even though he is so tempted to ask Sam if he could come with when she's being dragged into some Wayne Gala by her parents that they managed to get into. instead, he denies her invite, and she tells danny about bruce when he comes back. he sounds like a good guy. This is only backed up by his deep dive into bruce wayne and hearing all about his charities and businesses and its drive to make the Gotham better.

(Bruce Wayne is the only billionaire Sam actually likes, even if she looks down on his personality. She tells Danny about his grumpy youngest son who Sam shares a bit in common with. he's a year or so younger than them.)

It makes Danny feel worse about not telling him.

(danny's obsession, despite popular belief, is not protecting the town. Its family. he can never have enough family)

Of course this one-sided avoidance completely fucking blows up in his face, as normal, when he comes home and finds Bruce fucking Wayne sitting in his kitchen with his parents happily chatting over their college days. it was mainly Jack talking.

"Danbo! You're just in time, our old friend Bruce dropped by for a visit!" Jack exclaimed cheerfully.

Danny made direct eye contact with bruce, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen." he says calmly to the door, internally freaking out. And then opens the door again. Bruce Wayne is still. there. looking vaguely amused. His eyebrow raised in an elegant arch

its weird. He looks nothing like Dan. Its comforting.

danny is pale in the face and he smiles painfully, his teeth grinding. "hiiiiii" he says through his teeth.

"your son doesn't look too happy to see me" bruce jokes, and danny closes the door quietly. his long hair is falling over his face in strands. he prays that bruce doesnt notice the resemblance.

"he's just being shy" maddie says, giving danny a reprimanding look

danny shoots her a "what the fuck" look in response, and keeps his head turned away from him while walking by. there's a small boy sitting next to bruce with tanned skin and emerald eyes. he looks like danny. he looks like bruce.

he must be Damian.

"I have homework, i'll be up in my room" he practically announces to the room, and takes the stairs two at a time. if you asked him, he wasn't running.

he calls tucker, trying not to yell.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen"

aaaand.... my fingers are freezing off thanks to the ac so im gonna leave that there for now. I'll go more into phantom meeting the vigilantes or the justice league tmrw. hopefully.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

#danny phantom au #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #danny fenton is a clone #danny is not okay okay #danny phantom is not and never will be the ghost king #not in my aus at least lmao #it aint relevant

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foundmywei · 4 months

Text

Buddie Fanfic Recs 2

Here are my favorite buddie fics! Now includes 40 fics~

Check Part 1 for more

10k words or under

We're Both His Fathers by thebravestthingIeverdidwasrun

(1,276 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Buck has his foot up on the back of the ambulance when an arm shoots across his chest. It’s the other paramedic. “Sorry, it’s family only. You’re not on this call.” --- Christopher's school bus has an accident on the freeway. Buck and Eddie make sure to save him, but just as Buck is about to join Eddie and Chris on the ambulance he gets told it's "family only." May Day parallel fic

let the choir bells sing by foxwatson

(3,486 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

All at once, Eddie has an idea. It’s definitely the stupidest idea he’s ever had in his entire life, but he has it all the same, and there’s no time to come up with a better one. He puts his hands on Buck’s elbows, tugs him in closer, and says, “Kiss me.” Based on combining the prompts "kiss me like you mean it” and “i don’t know what i would have done if you weren’t here”

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon

(8,509 words | Explicit | Chapters: 1/1)

"Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. - Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together.

drawstrings by browney3dgirl6

(3,736 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

“Buck?” There was more rustling before Eddie heard a, “fuck, stupid—Eddie?” Eddie laughed with a shake of his head. “You decent up there bud?” Eddie heard a loud sigh and some more shuffling before Buck answered. “Yea, mostly.” Slowly, Eddie crept up the stairs, unsure of what kind of predicament he’d find Buck in. At the top of the landing, Eddie came to a halt, a soft smile spreading across his face. Buck was sat on the edge of his bed, hoodie ridden up and exposing his tummy. His head was bent toward his waist where he was battling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants, grunting as he went. Eddie stayed where he was watching. He found the entire thing oddly endearing. —or— Eddie helps Buck fix his drawstrings. How was he supposed to know it’d lead to him sitting in Bucks lap?

i'm someone you maybe might love by allyasavedtheday

(6,580 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

She opens her locker, giving him a sidelong glance. “So does Buck know you’re-“ The rest of her question gets cut off by a quiet, disbelieving, “Eddie?” and she and Eddie turn just in time for Buck to slam straight into Eddie. Eddie takes a step back with the force of it but his arms come up around Buck immediately, hugging back just as fiercely. She catches sight of his blinding smile before he tucks his face into Buck’s shoulder and Lucy stares, can’t help it when they’re hugging like long-lost lovers being reunited. Buck pulls back first, hands still firmly on Eddie’s arms as he jostles him. “You asshole!” he exclaims with a laugh that sounds more than a littler watery. “I was literally at your house last night; why didn’t you say anything?!” “Wanted it to be a surprise,” he says, voice low and soft in a way that finally makes her turn away to pretend to be busy with her locker. * Five times someone realises Buck is in love with Eddie and one time Buck realises he's in love with Eddie.

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire

(8,303 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“It’s alright,” Bobby says, another useless lie. Eddie’s eyes open, look straight into his, and his next words are remarkably clear. “I love him, Bobby.” “No,” he shakes his head, a strange and frantic panic bubbling up inside him. “You can’t tell me this- you can’t tell me this-“ a hundred smiles shift slightly to the left in Bobby’s memory. It’s barely a surprise, really, he picked Eddie out for Buck himself, years and years ago. He thought they’d make a fine pair. “You have to- we’re getting out of here and you’re telling him yourself, you can’t-“ -- Bobby deals with the ramifications of a misplaced confession

forever, ceasing never by lecornergirl

(3,985 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Until he drifts over just a little too far and loses his balance, and instead of resting his head on Buck’s shoulder like he’d intended he overshoots and finds himself sprawled out on the sofa, his head somewhere in the vicinity of Buck’s hip. Buck’s lap. His head is in Buck’s lap. Somewhere in the back of his wine-soaked mind, he knows he should get up. That this isn’t something they do. That this is crossing a line they’ve only skirted before, with the tackling and the tickling—always measured, always with a pretext. He should get up, but Buck’s hand slides into his hair, and when he looks down his eyes are impossibly soft. “Hi,” Buck whispers.

might as well be drunk in love by fleetinghearts

(2,326 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“Oh. You’re—uh.” Should he—say something? Why would he say something, though. Just because this isn’t something they do… Eddie’s clearly fine with this, initiating this, and Buck—there’s never a time Buck doesn’t want this, want this bad. So why would he say you have a bed right there and come off as a dick when they’re both perfectly fine with this. Or, worse in ways that are both hysterical and heartbreaking, come off as vaguely homophobic or make Eddie uncomfortable about the way he’s currently spooning Buck like he’s been doing it all his life. He settles for a lighthearted, “Are you drunk?” Eddie sighs sleepily, breath tickling Buck’s neck. “Yeah. Kinda.” or, getting little-spooned by his drunk best friend was not on buck's maid-of-honour checklist, but. it's happening

Java Blues by Ravens_Words

(5,530 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Bobby doesn't share his coffee with anyone. Ever. (Unless it's Buck.) Or, eight times Buck drank Bobby’s coffee, and the one time Bobby made it for him.

let me fix it for you by smilingbuckley

(10,355 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

5 times Eddie fixes or builds something for Buck + 1 time Buck thanks him for it (... sort of) -- “You look like you need a good breakfast,” Bobby says at the sight of Buck, handing him a plate highly stacked with waffles. “You can shave here if you want to.” “And risk being halfway when we get called in?” Buck snorts, “Nah, I’ll shave when Eddie fixes my sink.” “Oh, didn’t know you were a free handyman on the side,” Hen says, stretching to look at Eddie, “You know, we’ve been looking for someone to fix our backyard fence." Eddie, with his mouth full of waffles, shakes his head, “Family only.”

5 times Buck calls Eddie baby before he’s his + 1 time after by jesuisgrace

(2,314 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

The first time it happens Eddie knows that Buck is just being Buck, sweet and affectionate and funny. That he’s just matching the energy Eddie just ribbed him with when he hurls, “damn, don’t do me like that, baby!” at him over the pool table. Eddie feels himself freeze, feels his mouth fall open just a little, feels his cheeks heat. And wills himself to stop, to not make it weird, to just laugh. Because he knows how Buck meant it. But he hears “baby” in Buck’s voice, meant just for him, echo through his head all day.

don't read the last page (i stay) by screamingcolours

(9,090 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Eddie forgets about the couch thing. And he forgets because there isn’t supposed to be anything to remember about it. Instead, he remembers Christopher’s appointments and he remembers to go to his own. He remembers to do his laundry every few days and he remembers to bring Buck his clothes that Eddie finds in the hamper every once in a while. He remembers to go grocery shopping and he remembers to ask Bobby to give him the day off for the parents-teachers conference next month. Life goes on and he grows a little softer around the edges each day that Buck spends at his house instead of the loft every time he has time off, but it’s not anything he really worries about anymore. Buck hasn’t been doing his best, and if spending time in Eddie’s kitchen cooking enough for a whole army of Chris’s for hours on end until he’s too tired to go back to his place makes him happy, then who’s Eddie to deny him that? * or: mandatory 'making buck realise everything he ever wanted is right there in front of him' fic

was blind but now i see by seraphina_snape

(6,368 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

"Who is going where with Eddie?" "Buck is trying the romantic Greek-Italian restaurant he's been talking about with Eddie tonight. That's why he's in such a hurry." Chim's jaw drops a little. "Is that the place that basically only has tables for two and where there's no overhead lights, only those little mood-lights on the tables?" "Uh-huh." Hen nods. "They're going to discuss which high school to pick for Christopher." Buck looks up and checks himself in the reflection of the locker room's glass wall. He grabs his bag. "We'll tell you how the food was next shift. Or Eds will. I think it's my turn to split with B-shift." He looks at his watch and curses a little under his breath. "All right, gotta go. Have a good night!" Buck hustles out of the locker room, leaving Chim and Hen staring after him. Chim eventually shakes his head and starts getting dressed. "I don't even know what to say to that. Is he really going to the hottest date location in town to talk about Christopher's high school options?" "Oh yeah. That boy has no idea." Hen sighs. "Neither of them do."

11k - 40k words

Left Unsaid by C_M2

(33,431 words | Mature | Chapters: 7/7)

A woman shows up at the station with a picture of Buck on her phone. It goes better than last time. OR: The discovery of a small facebook group full of tsunami survivors rocks station 118.

help me to help myself by woodchoc_magnum

(26,678 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

In which Eddie slowly figures out who he really is in the aftermath of his breakdown.

please linger near the door by fallingthorns

(12,096 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Buck glances at Eddie’s bedroom door one more time, almost like he’s willing it to open. But the door stays mostly closed and Buck feels himself deflate as he grabs his bag and keys. He quietly closes the door and locks it behind him, and he’s just about to turn the car on when he frowns and realizes that he left his jacket in the house. He knows he’ll probably be back at some point tomorrow to get it, but he thinks about Eddie under all that mud. He thinks of his head on Bobby’s lap and Eddie’s name on his lips, screamed into the air. He felt – He felt like his whole soul was being buried under the mud, and that’s what scares him the most. Sighing, he gets out of the Jeep and decides to get his jacket, and if he happens to listen for any signs of movement from Eddie’s room for a few more seconds before he leaves again, then that’s between Buck and God. -- Or, Buck lingers until he finally stays.

right in front of your eyes by rainbow_nerds

(15,295 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

He and Chris, and Buck. They work, they’re a unit. Why should it matter that he’s single? Buck is watching him, like he’s reading every thought on his face. “You’re already planning to lie about the date. Why don’t you just tell her you met someone yourself?” Eddie shrugs and tilts his head to the side, squinting in thought. “She won’t set me up on dates if she thinks I’ve got someone,” he muses. “But she’ll want to meet whoever it is.” “So... Introduce them?” Or: Buck offers to fake-date Eddie so Pepa will stop setting him up on dates.

a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) by allyasavedtheday

(19,390 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 2/2)

Of course, all of that comes to a grinding halt when he stops outside the locker room to find arguably one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen getting changed right by his locker. He stands there, gaping and trying desperately to get his mind out of the gutter – but Jesus, those abs – when someone bumps his shoulder and he turns to find Hen sidling up to him. “Enjoying the view?” she asks with a knowing smirk. Buck raises an eyebrow, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk of his own. “He from B shift or something?” Hen’s about to answer him when Bobby appears on his other side. “That’s Eddie Diaz, our new recruit.” Buck’s brain does some approximation of a record scratch and he whirls around to face Bobby. “New recruit? Why?” * In which Eddie joins the 118 during season 1 instead of season 2 and Buck has a lot to say about it. AKA Eddie meets Buck 1.0.

sweet summer heat by waywardrenegades

(39,748 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 6/6)

It’s July in LA, there’s a heatwave, and Buck is fucking upset.

upon reflection by jeremycarver

(24,817 words | Explicit | Chapters: 7/7)

Buck doesn’t think, just says, “Hey Eds, you wanna?” Half to wipe that caught-out look off his friend’s face and half because, well. Buck doesn’t not want to. It would be fun, something to do to pass some time in the most stressful month of everyone’s lives. Eddie sits back so he’s between Buck’s thighs instead of on top of him and is slow to answer. Buck waits, and finally he answers, “Should we?” or, Buck and Eddie get into a friends with benefits situation that quickly spirals out of control.

baby, it's okay if we both end up afraid by Underhung_Aura

(28,376 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

Buck hadn’t forgotten how cold the ocean is. He hadn’t forgotten the bite of it or how the crest of a wave can feel like the edge of a knife or how the water stings and cuts and carves and settles in the bottom of your lungs and the pit of your stomach like a handful of broken glass. But he had forgotten the water’s weight. He had forgotten how heavy it is as it clings to you and refuses to let go, something he supposes he has in common with this powerful, almost undefeatable force of nature. Letting go has never been something he is good at, in any capacity, in any situation, always clinging clinging clinging like his very life depends on how well he can hold on to all the things that want him to release them. OR buck and bobby battle their past traumas in the middle of a shipwreck. eddie pines in the aftermath. and somehow, for all of them, love endures and overcomes.

you strip me down into nothing (show me what i've been missing) by screamingcolours

(28,000 words | Explicit | Chapters: 1/1)

“You could sleep with me.” It’s Buck’s turn to choke on his drink. “Wh—what? That’s not funny, Eddie.” “I’m not joking.” “Okay,” Buck says, slowly and looking at him with so much confusion, like he’s expecting a catch. “Why? Why would you offer to do this?” That’s the part where Eddie should have a thought out answer about how this makes sense, because they’re both single and trust each other with everything or whatever, and maybe it wouldn’t be a lie. But the truth is, he’s looking at Buck right now, on the verge of some kind of breakdown over sex of all things because he needs to be told he’s good and loved and needed, and Eddie will be damned if he’s not going to give him that. “Why wouldn’t I?” or Eddie offers to sleep with Buck ~for science~, they become friends with benefits, and Eddie takes way, way too long to pick up on what it all really means.

be as you've always been (lover be good to me) by frozenwisteria

(16,553 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Eddie looks across the sofa to see Buck’s chin cradled in his hands as he watches them instead of the screen, and Eddie hides his face in Chris’ hair because Buck can see the heat on his skin. As easy as it is becoming to let Buck in, it astonishes Eddie when Buck is so open and vulnerable with them too. He’s just spent the day taking care of Chris and now he’s smiling so softly and sincerely just watching Eddie and Chris relaxing together. Eddie’s heart beats quickly in his chest and Christopher squirms a bit when he hears it. “Are you okay, Dad?” Chris whispers. Eddie nods against the mop of curly hair that he should probably schedule a haircut for soon. “I’m really good, Chris.” or Eddie rejoins the 118 following the events of season five, slowly finds himself, and realizes along the way that he's in love with his best friend

Golden Hour by maybeamystery

(19,837 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

Okay, in the cold light of day, Buck can now admit that he is totally and completely in love with Eddie. The gross, sappy, want-to-write-a-million-soft-ballads kind of love. Eddie is the first person he thinks about when he opens his eyes in the morning; when he falls asleep at night, it’s usually to thoughts of Eddie and Chris, the two most important people in the world to him other than his sister and Jee-Yun. Not for the first time, Buck wishes he had the guts to confess his feelings to Eddie and get it over with. Instead, he’s trapped Eddie in this weird dog adoption farce, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of it with his heart intact. [or Buck adopts a dog with the Diazes, and they live happily ever after.]

there's more to life than chasing ghosts by differentsnowflake

(19,955 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

"So," Eddie begins. "Let me see if I can remember. You've worked in a dude ranch, done construction work, went to bartending school, did some Navy SEAL training, tended bar in like, in a bunch of cities, and, um- I feel like there's so much more you haven't told me." "I used to walk dogs too. Oh, and work in an old book shop." And yeah, there's so much he hasn't told Eddie yet. Maybe it's because Buck doesn't want him to know about the long nights spent sleeping in the backseat of the Jeep, and the loneliness and the fact that everywhere he went he just felt like he was going in circles, trying desperately to find a place where he'd belong. He doesn't want to tell him about the uncertainty and the fear of not being able to find whatever he was looking for. Also, maybe it's because he finds the frown in Eddie's face funny, like it still bothers him not to know everything about him. In which Buck is totally not having a crisis about turning thirty, Eddie throws him a birthday party, Buck likes keeping secrets about his past, and they're both idiots who refuse to talk about their feelings.

Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars

(40,051 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 14/14)

After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

Why Not Take All of Me? by Daisies_and_Briars

(13,235 words | Mature | Chapters: 5/5)

When a small disaster strikes the morning of Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Buck, Hen, and Chim find themselves unwittingly caught up in an emergency across town, while Maddie and Eddie get stuck in an elevator.

Batting a Buck & Change by Daisies_and_Briars

(15,557 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 5/5)

“Do you remember that shift where Buck was off and Hen was on mandatory relaxation, and they both got drunk in Hen’s kitchen in the middle of the afternoon while we had to resuscitate a canine?” Eddie nods vigorously. “Oh, Hoover. I remember Hoover.” “Why have we never been drunk during a dog resuscitation, Eddie? Have you thought about that?” “Well now I am.” “We should call them and let them know that we can have fun on Dads’ Night Out.” Nothing could go wrong. OR Eddie and Chim embark on a “Dad’s night out” to watch baseball at a sports bar, and after a few too many, Eddie accidentally lets his feelings for Buck slip.

i wish i said it better by llovely

(12,315 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

He's surprised he made it to Buck's in one piece, driving through a haze, on autopilot towards the one person who can take the jumbled pieces of Eddie's mind and gently slot them back into place. He doesn't even register the time of day until he’s opening the door to loft with his key and saying, “Hen thinks I should go on a date with a man,” which he guesses is paraphrasing, but you know. It's what she meant. * anybody order some fake dating poker date spec 3 months too late? this was supposed to be like 2k i don’t know what happened.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

(21,831 words | Mature | Chapters: 3/3)

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

dragged in dust (bathed in blood) by tawaifeddiediaz

(39,125 words | Mature | Chapters: 4/4)

I'm leaving the 118. Or, the aftermath of Eddie's decision, and what it means for his relationship with Buck.

Trying Hard to Remember, Trying Hard To Forget by kristen999

(25,499 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 6/6)

Eddie doesn’t remember the shooting and Buck is haunted by it. As they struggle with their feelings for each other, Eddie and Buck grapple with the realities of trauma recovery and the understanding that everyone heals at their own pace. Coda to 4.14.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by fleetinghearts

(14,710 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

“Well, we’re doing a fancy dinner and mini golf and karaoke,” Buck says, “and those are kinda date activities anyway, right?” “Right,” Eddie says slowly. “Except it’s Chim’s bachelor party, so we can hardly bring dates along, even if we could find them. That’d be weird.” “Well,” Buck says, “I was thinking… what if we were each other’s dates?” Eddie’s brain bluescreens for a moment. Buck must take his total lack of reaction for disagreement, because he hurriedly says, “Like, a pretend date. That way we could test out our, like you said, moves on each other. And then be totally truthful about whether they worked or not. So we get honest feedback and we don’t have to worry about finding someone to try them out on and we can still make it to Chim’s party. And then give Chris some advice before Sunday. Right? Does that make sense?” or, chris wants dating advice and it turns out taking your best friend on a pretend date to practice being as romantic as possible is not a good idea in theory or in practice, considering the pesky being-in-unrequited-love of it all

Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HMSLusitania

(21,652 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

Eddie's PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch. Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.

this must be the place by euadnes

40k+ words

(75,619 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 10/10)

Every life altering event is often led up to with a series of other important events. In this case, there were at least three: An unstoppable fire. An afternoon spent underneath a blanket of California blue sky. But firstly, and maybe the most important of all: There was the impeccable aiming of an ex-sharpshooter. *** Or, the Buck is also shot by the sniper AU that no one asked for.

What's love got to do with it? by ColorMeParanoid

(134,079 words | Explicit | Chapters: 30/30)

"Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. *** After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber

(49,678 words | Explicit | Chapters: 9/9)

When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret. “Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark. “What for?” Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious. “Being you, idiot.” “And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy. Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle. But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of if Abby would take him back, but when. A matter of days.

gave me no compass, gave me no signs (were there clues I didn't see) by Kwills91

(55,596 words | Explicit | Chapters: 9/9)

Eddie Diaz is finally opening himself up to the idea of dating again when a call ends with a building collapse and trapped inside with Buck, both men have realisations about how they want to move forward. But as Buck helps Eddie recover can either of them find the courage to tell the other how they feel. *** Takes place shortly after the events of 6x14

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars

(79,830 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 21/21)

When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania

(44,415 words | Mature | Chapters: 7/7)

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 fox #buck x eddie #buddie fic rec

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yourfavpasifikacreator · 4 months

Note

A little Birdy told me you are taking Clarisse requests 👀. Little idea: Clarisse x child of hades reader who is like a lava girl? Aka she has hair that can turn into fire, can breath fire and can shoot lava from her hands?

When reader gets angry hair air bursts into flames. (And when she gets pouty she creates a fire circle to sit in the middle of to sulk) lol.

Thanks!

Clarisse la rue x daughter of hades!reader

A/n:sorry it's so bad and late.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️:fluff

Summary: clarisse comforting you after someone says something mean to you in capture the flag

Today was capture the flag as always you were very happy but at the same time not cause you knew your girlfriend was very competitive last night she spoke to you about the game "look, don't take anything serious, okay?" She knew you like the back of your head cause she knew you were hot-tempered you didn't say anything to her you didn't want to lie to her.

Not even five minutes into the game you've already fallen flat on your face you got up and dusted yourself off people tripped you over by accident they all say their sorry but then go off laughing your try so hard to not take it to heart but then someone trips you over again you thought 'what the hades is going on here, did I make someone angry or something?"before he muttered in your ear "the daughter of hades but out all his children, your weakest." You looked shocked at what he said your hair literally burst in fire you got off the floor as he tried to run away you shot a ball of lava out of your hands and shot it at him he was severely burnt on his back and you walked up to him and pushed him on the a breathed fire at him he ran away probably to go snitch or something you were told off by the teacher you sighed upsetting.

Sitting near the lake you bring your knees near your chest for comfort tears falling down your face you sniffled your team did not win because of your outburst everyone blamed you for it but tried truly to not cause a scene sobbing and a big ring of fire surrounded all around you clarisse asked everyone where you were nobody knew she truly thought and figured you would be at the lake she wondered towards the lake looking for you only to hear you sniffing and a sobbing "y/n?" She spoke softly hearing her you quickly wiped your tears away from your face and tried to calm down so the fire wouldn't show anymore it worked you "hello, rissey what you doing here bubs?" You said quietly your eyes are still glassy from your tears looking down clarisse responded "I was looking for you, sweetheart, why are you crying?" She said putting her hand on your arm for comfort you broke your silence "it's just I lost my temper I didn't mean to like I really did but he sai-" you stopped on your words and just choked out tears you always thought you were a burden and now you know it "I always thought I was a burden to my father know I know it's true.." clarisse sat there shocked "am I hearing this right?, you mean to tell me someone like you is a burden to your father?." y/n looked at clarisse and then she held your hand together "look to me your perfect, my love." She said kissing your forehead.

Bonus:

Clarisse: "honey, cool down before you burn something!"

Literally hair on fire and a big ring of fire around her Y/n: *mumbling about the boy that tripped her*

But then the boy was actually put on life support.

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rebouks · 3 months

Text

Robin: Grandma! Sidney: Hi, honey. Robin: Hi. Sidney: Watcha doing?

[Robin wasn’t sure anymore, but he needed to ask something. He wasn’t used to talking to his grandmother though-.. even though he could, it always felt weird and forced. He decided he’d probably just have to be blunt]

Robin: Can I ask you something? Sidney: Shoot. Robin: Can we keep it a secret? I don’t want mom n’ dad to know I asked… Sidney: I can keep a secret.

[Sidney found a sheltered spot behind a rock and patted the sand beside her; Robin had barely taken a seat before launching his question at his grandmother, catching her off guard]

Robin: Has papa ever died-.. or come close?

[Sidney blinked, blindsided by Robin’s question]

Robin: I wanna know the truth too, like.. don’t do that thing grown-ups do n’ coat everything in syrup. Sidney: You really want the non-sugar-coated version..? Robin: Yeah.

[Sidney squinted at Robin, unsure how to proceed. He could tell she didn’t think it was her place to tell him]

Sidney: Why haven’t you asked your father? Robin: I don’t want to. Sidney: He’d tell you, if you asked-.. he’d be grateful for it too. Robin: Grateful? Why?

[Sidney sucked her teeth and buried her hands in the sand for a moment, thinking]

Sidney: Your dad and I never saw eye to eye when he was young, sometimes we still don’t-.. he didn’t trust me enough to talk to me, and I didn’t bother asking, or fixing it. It’s caused a lot of problems between us, so I think he’d appreciate you trusting him enough to ask. Robin: It’ll upset him though. Sidney: Well, tough-.. he can’t hide his past from you forever, he should know by now it always comes n’ bites you on the ass eventually.

[Robin frowned, feeling defensive on behalf of his father]

Robin: He wanted to tell me. Sidney: You’ve already asked?

[Robin shook his head, earning himself a confused look from Sidney; everything was so hard to explain when you had to tiptoe around the truth]

Robin: I want you to tell me. Sidney: I’ll tell you on one condition-.. you ask him about it too. He’ll have my guts for garters if he knew I’d told you and kept it from him. I can’t keep this particular secret, I’m afraid. Robin: Fine.

[Sidney shook her head and sighed; she couldn’t believe she’d been talked into this nonsense by a ten-year-old]

Sidney: Yes, he almost died-.. technically he did, but that’s just a medical thing, I suppose. Robin: Did you save him? Sidney: No.. I was there, but I couldn’t. Robin: Why not? Sidney: I just couldn’t do it; I was a mess! You can’t imagine how it felt, seeing him-…

[Sidney cut herself off, not wanting to go too far-.. but Robin didn’t need to imagine how it felt, he could feel it too. He quickly swallowed the lump in his throat, desperate to know more before his brain imploded with unanswered questions and half-truths]

Robin: What happened? How’d he end up like that? Sidney: Well… Robin: I know about the bad stuff he used to do-.. he drank a lot, was it that? It was in a bar or something, right? Sidney: He’s told you about that?

[Robin shrugged; his father had only alluded to such things, but Sidney didn’t need to know that, nor did she need to know what Larry had inadvertently shown him]

Sidney: Oscar had a lot of issues with drugs and alcohol when he was younger-.. it almost got the better of him that night, I think he just went too far by accident. Robin: So, it wasn’t on purpose? Sidney: Not exactly. Robin: What do you mean? Sidney: He knew the risks-.. but you really shouldn’t be asking about this sort of thing, honey. Robin: Just ‘cause I’m little doesn’t mean I can’t understand.

[Sidney chuckled; the apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree. Robin was just as headstrong and persistent as his father]

Sidney: Maybe not, but you should be climbing trees and thinking about what’s for pudding-.. don’t worry yourself about all this stuff too much. Not yet, at least. Robin: It’s hard not to-.. did he get better after what happened? Sidney: For a while, then he got worse, then he got better again-.. go n’ talk to him, he’ll make you feel better about what happened. He’s had a good handle on himself for a while now; since before you were born, if I’m not mistaken. Robin: That’s a long time. Sidney: It sure is. Robin: It never really leaves though, does it? Not completely.

[Sidney hesitated briefly, surprised by the depth of Robin’s understanding]

Sidney: No, not really. Robin: Okay, thanks.

[Sidney yanked Robin back into the sand before he could run off]

Sidney: Don’t make me be the one to tell him about this-.. you talk to him, you hear me? Robin: I hear you… Sidney: You better! Don’t think I won’t make sure.

[Robin nodded, hastily escaping Sidney’s grasp, and her intensity. He had no choice now; if grandma Sid said she meant business, she damn well meant it]

Previous // Next

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mysterycitrus · 5 months

Note

waving emoji,, hi i cant remember if youve already talked about this so sorry if you have😭 but do u have any thoughts on the class separation between steph & tim... bc there are definitely things to be said there (i was talking about this with a friend and they got confused, so to be clear im referring to wealth classes)

talking about steph and tim in relation to class economics is difficult cause the majority of their early and formative appearances were written by chuck dixon (pathological hater of poor people) but id say an underdiscussed point of comparison for them is the same as what separates tim from jason and dick — housing security.

if u have never been homeless, if u have never been housing insecure, if u have never had to rely on a dangerous person for financial security, then i cannot emphasise how difficult and emotionally disturbing a situation it is. ive been homeless, and it ages u decades. it’s terrifying. ur complete lack of control, ur reliance on others who can turn u away — it is such an insurmountable obstacle to overcome for anyone, but especially as a minor with literally no options.

steph doesn’t live in poverty in the classical sense — but she lives in a house with her father’s name on the mortgage. she has no access to support resources to protect her. growing up, that house isn’t safe. her security relies on her father’s ambivalence to her existence. the house relies on her father. she is always at risk. even with other heroes, her community with them is never guaranteed. that fear always stays with u. u are always in fight or flight. u can literally never let ur guard down.

dick experiences something tangentially related — he is removed from his home and placed with bruce. his staying with bruce relies on bruce’s acceptance, which bruce withdraws when he’s fired as robin. bruce is not the same as arthur brown, but the power dynamic is similar. jason is living by himself in the alley before being picked up by bruce. both dick and jason have everything to lose by trusting bruce. is that security ever really there? or will it crumple during the next disagreement, the next argument, the next benched patrol.

to be clear — this isn’t saying that tim has never experienced difficulty with housing and support. lest we forget the literal school shooting, or the fake uncle. but my point is that growing up, tim had a place. he had a guarantee that his parents (no matter how distant) would be there. that dick would be there. by the time of the accident, he was able to find support. jack drake truly loved his son. tim did not fear returning home (until the phone call, obvsly).

there are other points of comparison, but i think people underestimate how much that shit stays with u. ur always doubting everyone’s intentions, no matter how benevolent. if ur left with no options, who can u rely on? poverty is seen as a moral failing, and it’s a reflection on u. everything that happens after is because of that failure. u lack access to support because u are seen as less than. is it any surprise that steph’s writing lacks empathy whereas tim is trusted in ways she isn’t?

#idk if this actually answered ur q sowwy #stephanie brown #tim drake #robin #spoiler #dc comics #the ask and the answer

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 year

Text

Pick Your Battles

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: None

Summary: Bradley broke your heart when he accused you of betraying him, and you haven’t seen or spoken to him since. Until you are both called back to Top Gun to help with a dangerous mission that nobody’s ever attempted before

I do not own the rights to these characters or any part of the movie this is simply for entertainment. I hope you guys enjoy this first part, and let me know what you guys think so far!! If you wish to be added to a tag list please don’t hesitate to ask and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Heart it! Reblog it! Enjoy it! XOXO

✨Please do not copy and paste or steal my work or take credit for this without my permission or you will be reported✨

Part 2

It's been too long since you've seen Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and the thought of his reaction terrified you. Not knowing how he would feel about you returning to Fightertown. Once you got the letter asking you to return you knew without a doubt Bradley would be there. The two of you didn't end things well the last time you saw each other.

Telling him how you felt and his response was not at all what you thought. He suddenly became angry and upset with you. Slamming the door on the way out as you fell on the couch crying your eyes out. Everyone was worried about you after that, but nobody dared to bring his name up to you.

You've known Bradley since you guys were children. After all you were the daughter of Tom Kazansky aka 'Iceman'. Taking after him and becoming top of your class in Top Gun. Earning the call sign of 'Frostbite'. Also, becoming the only female pilot to have three confirmed air to air strike kills. Your father was a legend amongst pilots and you were becoming one now too.

After you and Bradley graduated it seemed like you two became a lot closer. Everyone could see it except for the two of you, until one day Bradley got upset you went on a date with some other guy. Seeing that side of him had you wanting him closer, and into your arms.

It confused you beyond all doubt since you two were just friends, but then it made you realize your true feelings for him. That's when you decided to confess how you felt about him, after a bottle of wine of course.

Now here you were sitting at the bar of the Hard Deck constantly looking back to seeing when he would come in. Sipping on your beer as you nervously looked around at all different kinds of colors laughing and playing pool or shooting darts.

Wondering if these were the pilots you would be training for this mission. Turning down their offer of leading this mission ever since the accident, and settling for being an instructor instead. Your father was not happy about your choice but understood why you did it. Not wanting to lead another mission where someone else dies.

"You okay hon?" Pennys sweet voice asked when she noticed you staring off into space.

"Oh yeah I'm just thinking." Snapping out of it to look at her. "Obviously too hard huh?"

"He's going to be glad to see you." She knew exactly what and who you were thinking about.

"Yeah right he'll walk through that door and see me and walk right out." Groaning at the image and feeling yourself become saddened at the thought.

"No he won't I bet you he'll see you and have that big smile on his face and give you a big Rooster hug." She smiled at you with reassurance making your lips quirk up. "He cares about you."

"Not enough to reach out to me." Shaking your head as you finished the rest of your drink.

"You could have done the same for him." Raising her eyebrows at you with that look of 'it works both ways'. "You two just need to talk."

Not saying anything you just looked at her watching as she went to go help other patrons. Trying to repeat her words in your head that he missed you just as much as you missed him. Although it would be hard for him to forget you confessing your feelings to him. You just don't let something like that be forgotten.

In the deep part of your mind you couldn't help but think he still was upset and would want nothing to do with you. Then the two of you would have to work on this mission ignoring each other, and acting like enemies.

"Y/N?" Instantly recognizing that voice making you turn around and break from your thoughts.

"Uncle Maverick." Exclaiming as you hopped off the stool to give him a hug. "It's so good to see you."

You've known Pete Mitchell ever since you were little, and he was also your Godfather. He was like family to you and whenever you couldn't go to your father you would go to him. He was proud of you when you graduated from Top Gun, reminded him of being with your father.

Of course you knew of the feud between him and Bradley, but you didn't actually know what it was about. All you know is Maverick did something so badly that he wanted nothing to do with him. Then one day Bradley called you screaming if you knew something about his papers being pulled which of course you didn't, but he didn't believe you and continued to yell at you.

It seems like Bradley will have not only one person he can't stand here.

"It's good to see you too." Pulling back so he could sit next to you waving at Penny a blush on her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm good I'm good." Nodding your head as you looked at your hands on the bar top. It was a lie. "How about you?"

"Well I can't complain." He gave you a nudge making you playfully roll your eyes with a smile. "I'm assuming you got a letter as well."

"Yeah I did and I was asked to be the lead in it." Once he heard that his eyes went wide a huge smile on his face like a proud father.

"Well shit congratulations I'm happy of you." Clapping a hand on your back your face remained stoic.

"I turned it down." Stating to him before he could get anything else out. "I told them I wouldn't lead this mission."

"Why would you do that?" He asked too quickly and saw the look on your face before nodding. "I get it."

Only a few people knew about the accident including Pete, since your father didn't want it to be a public thing which you were kind of thankful for. Seeing as it traumatized you, and never wanting to ever relive that moment again. Not that you were trying to sweep it under the rug you just didn't want someone reminding you of that day.

All of a sudden you heard a bell ringing and both you and Maverick looked up in confusion. Penny standing there with a huge grin on her face as everyone whooped and hollered in joy. She pointed to a sign that said 'disrespect a woman or a pilot or place your phone on the bar top and you pay for a round'.

Looking down you saw Pete's phone on the bar top making your bend your head back in laughter. He just chuckled with a shake of his head as Penny was then bombarded with men and women at the bar.

"Way to go Uncle Mav." Patting him on the back as you continued to laugh. "I'll have another one Penny."

Handing you a bottle you saw a blonde haired man with thick arms in a khaki uniform that you very much recognized walk you up to the bar. His eyes looking at Pete and then shifted over to you a small smirk on his face.

"Four beers Penny please." Looking over to Pete briefly before grabbing his drinks handing them over.

"There ya go." Giving her wonderful smile the mans gaze still lingering on you.

"Thanks hon." He then looked back to Pete. "Thanks for the drinks pops." Giving a wink before he turned around walking back to the other pilots.

"I'll be right back." Hopping off the stool as you headed to the restroom glancing over at the blonde man to see his eyes on you.

The other three guys he was with all looked over to what he was looking at. You hated when people stared at you like that even if they didn't know who you were. Just wanting to keep your last name from being revealed to anybody for as long as possible.

Looking away you went into the bathroom stepping in front of the mirror placing your hands on either side of the sink. Staring at yourself asking yourself if you could really do this.

Could you handle the pressure of this mission? Could you handle being around someone that you love who doesn't feel the same? Starting to doubt yourself even more now, but reminding yourself of Penny's words.

Splashing cold water on your neck you gathered yourself quickly before heading out the door. Glancing around you noticed that name blonde haired man now standing in front of you. His eyes glanced you up and down taking in your torn jeans and white tank top.

"Hi there darlin." He said twirling a toothpick between his white teeth. "What's your name?"

Ah he clearly didn't recognize you and had no idea who you are then. Maybe you could have some fun with this.

"My names Y/N." His hand lifted up to grab yours in a shake you didn't bother to give him your last name since it would give away too much.

"The names Jake Seresin." Stating with such pride it almost made you roll your eyes. "Call sign Hangman."

"Hangman?" Repeating with a confused look on your face but he just smiled.

"You ever meet a pilot in person?" Shaking your head playing the stupid girl he probably thought you were.

"Well todays your lucky day sweetheart." He stepped closer to you this time. "I happen to be the best pilot there is."

This guy needed an ego check or something surprised his head hasn't exploded yet from thinking too highly of himself. Never the less you decided to go along with whatever game he was playing.

"Is that so?" Asking him crossing your arms over your chest his eyes glancing down briefly before smiling at you.

"Come join me and my fellow pilots." Placing his hand on your back leading you over to a group of khaki uniformed pilots playing pool.

"Guys this here is Y/N." He introduced you making everyone's eyes gaze over to you.

"Hi." Squeaking out like you were some shy little girl feeling utterly stupid.

"This is Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Phoenix and Bob." Pointing to everyone each of them giving you a wave or smile.

These were probably all the pilots that you were going to help train on this mission. It absolutely terrified you how many lives you were potentially holding in your hands. A part of you feeling bad for not voicing who you actually were, but you didn't want the looks and questions who knew they would ask.

"Still bothering innocent women I see?" The girl Phoenix spoke up making everyone laugh.

"Couldn't help myself Phoenix." Pulling you closer to him making you a little bit uncomfortable. "She's a beautiful woman."

"Which doesn't make sense as to how you got her?" Fanboy joined in everyone nodding their heads in agreement.

"Yeah she doesn't know who you really are." Phoenix responded as she looked at you.

"Judging by the call sign I think I know everything I need to." Your voice ringing out making the others look at you with wide grins and laughter.

"Ouch darlin you hurt me." Placing a hand over his heart acting fake wounded.

"Besides I only go for real talented pilots." Your words had everyone's mouth wide open hollering.

Typically you were as tough as nails and always spoke your mind. In order to keep up this charade of being a normal person you kept your real personality down a few notches. Just wait until the next morning when they would see you, and you just couldn't wait for their reactions.

"I like her." Phoenix said and everyone nodded in agreement making you smile.

"Are you a pilot or?" Coyote asked once everyone quieted down.

Before you could respond your gaze wondered over to the front door watching as a couple people walked in. The person in front who you immediately recognized as Bradley. Wearing an old Hawaiian shirt with a white tank and faded blue jeans. A pair of aviators shielding you from his eyes.

He was a lot bigger the last time you saw him, and certainly looked better looking than the last time. Feeling yourself starting to drool as you looked him feeling like a creep for just staring at him. Thankfully he didn't even see you otherwise you would have been incredible embarrassed.

Something that was definitely different about him was the mustache he was rockin. He definitely didn't have that the last time you saw him, and you gotta admit he looked really good wearing it. He looked just like his dad which made you smile at the thought.

The butterflies in your stomach had you feel lightheaded and flustered. Your full attention was on him watching as he greeted a couple people before his gaze turned over to your group. Feeling your nerves get the better of you you tried shielding yourself from his view.

Not wanting to be seen as you saw him walking towards your group. He still hadn't seen you yet which you were thankful for. Maybe you could sneak away without being seen, and you could avoid the awkward conversation.

Shielding your face by Jake's side when he was literally just a few feet from you talking to the other pilots. Hearing his voice had your heart fluttering and you wanted nothing more than to say something and run into his arms.

"Bradshaw." Hangman greeted with a smirk making Bradley look over in your direction. "As I live in breathe."

"Hangman." He responded back with slight tone animosity making it known the two didn't exactly like each other. "You look... good."

"Oh I'm good I'm very good." His cocky tone was really starting to get to you feeling an arm wrap around your waist.

Quickly glancing your eyes over without moving your head watching him as he leaned against a pole placing his hands in front of him.

"Thought they wanted the best of the best." Bradley shot back at him making you smile into Jake's arm.

The pair just stared at each other like there was a silent war going on between them. The group looked between the two waiting for someone to speak first. Things were becoming too much for you and you just wanted to get out of there. Until you felt someone staring at you.

"Whose your victim tonight?" His words had your stomach drop feeling dread take over your body.

"This gorgeous girl is Y/N." Holding you to his side like you were some sort of prize. "She's never met a pilot in real life."

Keeping your face hidden hoping he wouldn't recognize you or act like he didn't know who you were. Glancing over you made immediate eye contact with him and you watched his lip twitch instantly recognizing you. His eyes looking to Hangman's arm around your waist making his hand ball into a fist.

You were still just as beautiful since he saw you last. Beating himself up for how he left things with you, and not telling you how he felt. Once he was told his papers were pulled he accused you of knowing and not saying anything to stop it to which he felt betrayed.

"Really?" He asked not taking his eyes off you his jaw clenching for multiple reasons.

"Figured if she were to meet a pilot it should be the best there is." He said cockily making your roll your eyes this time.

"But you aren't the best pilot." Bradley responded back making you and others chuckle. "She is."

Your eyes went wide not knowing who he was talking about maybe hoping he was talking about the other woman Phoenix instead. That wasn't the case though when you were completely unaware that he was pointing to you. Slowly moving your head to look at him his eyes solely on you.

He had this look on his face that would couldn't make out. Until you saw that look in his eye that told you he was about to blow your cover. Please Bradley don't you mouthed to him, and he just smirked.

"Yeah right and I'm Superman." Hangman joked not noticing how you were now frozen in place.

"God your such an idiot Hangman." At first you didn't know who he was talking to. "You clearly don't know who this is do you?"

Feeling everyone look over at you as you continued to stare at him shaking your head at him begging him not to tell. Judging by the look on his face you knew what he was about to do to you.

Your breathing was becoming very heavy and shallow. The air in your lungs was becoming restricted and you could feel your palms sweating waiting for him to spill the beans. The glancing from you to Bradley waiting in anticipation.

"What are you talking about?" Phoenix spoke up as Jake continued to stare at him a confused look on his face.

"Who is she?" Someone else said but you didn't know who.

"Your little date over there is a pilot herself." Jake snapped his head down to look at you an angry look on your face.

"Her names Y/N Kazansky daughter of Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky." Soon as they heard your last name some of them gasped or their eyes went wide in shock. "Call sign 'Frostbite."

"Holy shit." Hearing someone say as you now felt all eyes on you, but your focus was on the man with the mustache glaring at him feeling like steam was coming off your body.

"You two know each other then?" Bob asked really speaking for the first time that night.

"Unfortunately." His words had you wincing and your heart slowly breaking at how horribly he was treating you.

Once Bradley saw your reaction he felt bad but he couldn't take them back. A part of him wanted to walk up to you and hold you and tell you he was sorry he knew it wouldn't fix everything. Even though the group was going to find out eventually you wanted it to be on your terms, and not through Bradley who did it out of spite and possibly hatred.

Before anyone else could say anything you tore yourself away from the group, and practically zoomed out of there. Feeling a tear running down your cheek Penny watching with concern making Maverick turn around to look as well.

One things for sure that you know now. Bradley Bradshaw hates you.

——————————————

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#miles teller #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #miles teller fanfiction #miles teller series #Bradley bradshaw #Bradley bradshaw smut #Bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #Bradley bradshaw series

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sunlightmurdock · 11 months

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The Odyssey | 0.3 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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You meet an old friend of your professor’s, you learn some things about yourself. Tomorrow is going to suck.

warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), will be smut, virgin reader, swearing, infidelity. warnings to be added on a chapter by chapter basis. 18+ minors dni

…

Bradley was born in the South. Shitty little town on the cusp of North Carolina and Tennessee. He doesn’t remember much about it other than his neighbors shooting at tin cans in the morning and his cousin Lucas, four years older than him so maybe eight at this time, teaching him how to catch lightning bugs. After that, after his dad hadn’t returned from what was supposed to be just a six month deployment, they went back West.

He remembers California. His grandmother’s mid-century three bedroom with two orange trees and a lemon tree in the yard. His cousin Jessica, only two years his senior but twice his size back then, pinning him down on that almost artificially green grass and squeezing lemon juice on his grazed knee. He remembers learning to ride his bike alone at that house, out of pure spite after watching a kid on his baseball team learn the skill with his father on a sunny day at the park down the street.

He remembers being so angry in that house. He hated Jessica, he hated that his Mom let his grandmother parent him. He enjoyed the citrus, and the sun, and the freedom to ride his bike as far as his legs would let him. His mother hadn’t been super attentive back then. She was angry too. But never with him. When she could manage to look him in the eyes, she would stare for so long, and remind him how much she loved him. It didn’t happen too frequently in that house.

After his grandmother’s house, then there was Phoenix. His first big city. He spent a stretch there from middle school until the end of his freshman year. He did okay there, but he hated the desert. He loved the person that his mother was while she was there. Working again for the first time since she had been pregnant with him, it felt like she had been reborn. He had missed her so much until they had gotten to Phoenix. It was there that he had found out what had really happened to his father.

Engine failure. Freak accident. Nothing ever found to bury. It hadn’t felt like the closure he had wanted, but it was something. He was grateful for the answer nonetheless. He started to resent his father a little less, now knowing that it wasn’t his fault. At this age, Bradley had wanted to write draw for comics when he got older.

By eighteen, he didn’t recognise anything about that short kid that stuck to his mother’s shadow in Phoenix. By eighteen, he had grown a foot and a half, he’d lost his mother and he was back in that fucking mid-century with the lemon trees. Only for a month, and then he was at basic training. His early twenties belonged to the government, and after that — after he was out, it all belonged to Natasha.

“Natasha.”

“Bradley,” She beams, her arms extended as she walks confidently towards him and drapes them around his shoulders. He hugs her and turns his head. She smells so much more expensive now than she had that first summer. He misses when the backseat of his car smelled like her, solely her. “You look so great. I’m so happy to see you.”

It’s unclear whether this is true. He never really knows where he stands with her. They should hate each other after everything that’s happened, everything they did. But, nonetheless, his arms still fit just as securely around her waist as they had almost a decade ago. It still feels so right. But it would be wrong for him to tell her that he’s missed her.

He has — he misses her constantly. But not her, not this woman that’s in his arms now. The girl from the beach who kissed the scar on his shoulder and told him that he didn’t have to keep on making himself so miserable. God, he misses her.

“Your hair is shorter.” He says it without thinking as she lets him go. Shit, this was what they had argued about last time. He always does this. He reaches out, taking the dark locks between his fingertips and exhaling. “I like it. It looks grown up.”

It’s not untrue. He likes the style, and it does look grown up. It’s just not what he wants of her. Not that Natasha has ever cared about that, and he still adores that about her now.

Classier now than she had been then, she gives him a polite smile and a curt nod rather than calling him an asskisser and smacking his chest. Her lips aren’t glossed, they aren’t matte, they sit somewhere between in a perfect shade of burnt rose. They quirk softly at him as she studies the same face she knew so well.

“Where are your students?” She asks him.

For the most part, his students are already headed downstairs, dressed and beyond curious about this party that Bradley was talking about. It hadn’t been on the itinerary and they’re excited that Bradley wants to introduce them to his friends.

There’s just one of his students that, as usual, isn’t following the crowd. You’re sitting on your twin bed, tapping your foot anxiously against the carpet as Malcolm chats along on the other side.

This room is less dusty. A twin bed with blue striped sheets and your suitcase at the foot of it. The window wide open, Robin’s palms had spent the afternoon braced against the wooden framed window as she leaned her top half all the way out of it to look outside. It’s sunnier here than Turin. Cleaner too. It feels infinitely further from home, somehow.

Hearing his voice should be calming you down but if you have to listen to one more detail about how his golf season is going then you might just start gnawing on your nails again. A habit your mother had trained out of you early on. One of many.

“And then that idiot snapped the driver clean in half! — Titanium my ass, those things were costume jewellery in club form.” Malcolm rattles away.

You hate golf. The sport itself is tedious and you’ve grown to associate it with being lectured by your father. Sitting in the buggy with a good book or a friend with good gossip though — that’s a sport you’re willing to invest your time into.

“So, I tell him—“

There’s only so much of this story that you can bring yourself to listen to, truly. It’s rare that you interrupt him. Your mother wouldn’t dare interrupt her husband, but your husband-to-be is nicer than hers. Your life won’t be like hers.

“I’m really nervous about this party, Mac.”

You’ve had this conversation before. Back in December. You’re only reminded of it because he laughs, just like he had back than.

“Honey, you’re going to have a great time. I know it.”

God, you’d gotten so wasted that night. You don’t even remember getting home. It was someone’s birthday, maybe Miranda’s. With limited drinking experience, a new dress and surging confidence, you’d had high hopes for the night.

You had woken up alone and in your childhood bedroom, and Malcom hadn’t returned your calls for three days. Reassurance from him now doesn’t exactly make you feel much better.

“You there?” He prompts.

“Yes.”

“Honey,” His voice is so warm, fond and almost teasing. You can see his smile behind your eyelids, imagine him reaching out and stroking your jaw with the tip of his index finger. “You’re alone there, right?”

Brows knitting closer together for a moment, you glance around you. Robin left a while ago. You’re definitely alone.

“Yes…?”

“When we’re on our honeymoon, and we’re laying in bed together — I’m going to want to hear all about my new wife’s wild life before she was all mine, alright?” He tells you, and suddenly there it is. The comfort that you were looking for. You close your eyes and his voice envelops you like a hug. “Go out there and make some memories. I love you.”

Savouring his voice like the last bite of a rich cake, you take a few moments and exhale softly.

“I love you too.” You tell him. The longing in your voice translates, crossing the Atlantic without issue. You smooth your dress out across your knees. “Now stop thinking about our honeymoon, we’ve got to make it to the wedding first.”

“Well, if you’d like me to think about our wedding night then—“

“Malcolm, you animal.” You scoff, and he grins in response, offering a breathy chuckle. Both of you know he’s not half as bad as he could be. You’ve seen his friends. The kind of misinformed animals who grope at their girlfriends chests and drool over their backsides — you’d never marry anyone who thought like that. “I should go. I’ll call tomorrow.”

You’re not walking with any kind of urgency after the phone call. You know the time, you’ve just got no real desire to be there. Glossed wood under your fingertips, carefully crafted molding bracketing the ceiling, the floors hardwood and dressed with neat, cream coloured runners.

This place is somewhere you would actually consider staying. A long shot from the dingy hotel back in Turin, this place seems a little out of Bradley’s trip budget. The cream runner is plush enough to pillow the sound of your footsteps, allowing you to pass along the halls almost silently.

Silently enough that you’re able to round a corner and bump almost right into a woman exiting a double-doored suite. You adjust yourself quickly to stop yourself from actually hitting into her, taking a few steps back, blinking as you take in the stunning white of her dress.

It has a deep drape in the middle, revealing deep olive skin, and ends just above the knee, revealing toned long legs. She’s not that tall, just slender enough that she seems longer. Stunning in a way that renders you quiet for a moment.

“Sorry! Didn’t hear you coming, you’re like a little mouse.” She’s smiling at you, and she’s American. Your lips press together into a polite smile.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

Dark brown eyes feel heavy as they start at your heels, powder blue sandal things, then trail your calves, examine the skirt of your dress and take their time roaming upwards. You’ve been looked at like this before, but never by a woman. You squirm under her gaze and force yourself still.

She’s stoic, poised — so classy. You envy her immediately, wondering if her mother was as cruel as yours could be, if it all paid off and that’s why she’s like this now. She doesn’t move and so you don’t either. You mirror her unintentionally. Lips pursed into a soft, polite smile, shoulders squared and spine straight.

“You’re one of Bradley’s students.” She tells you. Not a question by any measure, just an acknowledgment. She doesn’t give you time to answer either. She just tells you your name, then watches the way your face changes to discontentment. “He told me about you.”

If this is supposed to please you, it doesn’t. You know that whatever he has said won’t have been kind. It wasn’t. And yet, Natasha’s smiling at you anyway.

“Walk with me.” It’s an instruction by anyone’s measure, and you comply easily. She’s impressed, but not surprised. She had known from her conversation with Bradley that he must have pissed you off pretty well for you to have lashed out and hit him this morning. Well-reared young ladies aren’t known for socking guys in the nuts.

You’re quiet, pliant — seemingly waiting for some kind of approval from her. She knows that she looks different from Bradley now, that they don’t look like they could have ever loved each other. She wonders if you wrote Bradley off the first time that you looked at him. She wouldn’t blame you if you had; she had too.

He hasn’t ever dressed his age. When she knew him he was primarily shirtless, rarely wearing shoes, usually covered in sand. Some kind of sun kissed, sea-salted teenager who was actually twenty-four. Now that he’s an adult, he still doesn’t dress like an Ivy League professor should.

Bradley hates being told that first impressions matter the most. He thinks it’s bullshit. Every woman who has ever fallen in love with him hadn’t liked him at first glance. Maybe that’s why he’s so laid-back, so aloof.

“He’ll grow on you,” Natasha decides, shoulders straight and her chin pointed in front of her, her hair glossy and falling behind her shoulders. You know immediately that she’s talking about Bradley, you’re just uncertain as to why. She glances across and looks you over once more. “You’ll get used to him, rather. He won’t always be so annoying.”

“How do you two know each other?”

Natasha smiles. Looks across at you, lips quirked like there’s some kind of inside joke on her lips that you aren’t privy to. “Just old friends.”

“Do you work in history too?”

“Don’t call Bradley’s class history,” She corrects you quickly, still smiling. “But, no, actually. My husband and I are in the hotel business. I hear you’re getting married too.”

This brings you to a complete stop. Natasha can see the confusion on your face, standing there and wondering why you could have possibly been the topic of conversation long enough for her to know this.

“Anyway, did he tell you about the trip out to the other side of the lake tomorrow?” And with that, she’s done sharing — and you just have to live with that. It’s a kind of conversational power that you strive to have. You want what she has. Or, in this moment, you believe you do.

She leads you in, but you quickly lose her at the party. It’s hers. You notice this first when you catch glimpses of her shaking hands, like everyone in this room’s just waiting to meet her. Then, you see her picture hung behind the bar. Her and a handsome man with dark hair, their arms around each other and beaming, pictured standing out front.

This place belongs to her and her husband. She must be pretty fond of Bradley to let him come back year after year. You think that now, but you’ll grow to know that that’s not true. She hates him in a way she hopes you’ll never know.

It’s tough, being at a party so similar to the ones you’re used to, and being stuck with people that you truly wouldn’t rescue from a burning building. You sit opposite for a while too long, listening to their boring chatter, sipping on a glass of wine — just the one — you don’t want Natasha to think you’re sloppy.

Then, you make the mistake of speaking up. Just a comment, you barely remember it was, but Robin decides that it was dull. And then, she turns her attention to you.

“Y’know, I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you and Ashworth are getting down and dirty,” She leans back against Luke’s chest and swings her legs across his. He leans in and mumbles something, maybe for her to ease up on you. “I just can’t imagine you…”

Robin trails, then cocks her head like a spaniel. You try to straighten out whatever hurt expression must have given you away, but it’s too late. This was a bad idea, you should be halfway across the room, stuck to Pasquale’s side like a scared child.

She sits up quickly, eyes blowing wide open in excitement, “Holy shit — you’ve never fucked him!”

Quickly, the group acts in unison — a sharp look in her direction, and then their heads whip in your direction. The silence lasts seconds, too long, strange amongst the bustle of the party.

Exactly as fast, you’re sitting there, cursing your father’s name. Surely no grade is worth this ridicule.

Robin leans forwards, lips quirking up into a dimpled grin, “Have you ever fucked anybody?”

“Oh, grow up.” You bite back. They watch as you throw yourself upwards and storm away from them. Their laughter comes in whoops from behind you, you walk as far and as fast as you can until it finally drowns under the music. Out of the events hall, down one of those long, carpted hallways and into double glass doors.

You push at their wood frames and let them clatter shut behind you, stepping out into the fresh, evening air. There’s a chill to it that’s even more sobering than being made fun of by your peers. You cross to the stone railing of the balcony, bracing your palms against it and letting out a deep breath.

Ridiculous, really. That if you’d just laid back and parted your legs for the man you love, or even some loser that may have come before, they think that you would be different somehow. Fucking ridiculous. That she thinks encountering the male form makes her any different from you. You know intimacy. You’ve seen the man that you love cry, you’ve seen him delighted and you know his fear.

All she knows is physicality. That’s the easy part. She knows nothing like the things you know.

Movement in your peripheral breaks you from your grumpy stream of consciousness, making you lift your head and making you privy to a secret that you have absolutely no business knowing.

Bradley and Natasha stand on the balcony opposite you. There are four, bracketing the courtyard below. It’s not well lit out here, but not dark either. You can see them well, illuminated through the glass panes by the hallway light inside.

His hand’s on the back of her thigh, nudging her dress up ever so slightly. It’s not doing anything too incriminating, but for some reason, your brain fills in the blanks for you. You can picture it so clearly. His hand disappearing under that dress, her slender frame fitted against his broader one. Them, together.

Her plump, reddened lips parted and breathing his name. His brows knitted together, cheeks flushed and his skin hot, blushing and stretched taut across his muscles.

Briefly, your brain reminds you of where you are, and who this is — and what you’re seeing, and you almost move. Like cement has dried around your ankles, you’re stuck there, half perched behind a stone pillar, eyes trained in on the view seriously.

You think of her husband. You think of yours. You could never betray Malcolm like this. The elegant, intelligent woman from the hallway earlier fades in your mind like red wine splattered on a white rug. She’s not who you thought she was. He’s exactly as awful as you’d hoped he would be.

Just wait until the Dean hears what Bradley gets up to on these trips.

His other hand abandons her hip, coming up to clasp firmly around the nape of her neck. There’s a sharp, strong tug and she’s closer, his tongue is in her mouth and she hums against his lips.

You’re so caught up in him for a moment that your eyes almost forget to follow the movement. You’ve thought about this before. How Malcolm would touch you. If he would be gentlemanly and slow, or brash and sudden. If his fingers would sprawl the length of your nape like Bradley’s do hers, extending up into her dark roots and curling deeply into a fist.

Finally, you blink and catch the movement. Her manicured, slim fingers trailing downwards along the blue striped shirt covering his stomach, onto the khaki of his shorts. Her fingers extend and curl too, and suddenly you’re much more of a voyeur than you had intended to be. She squeezes her hand around the length of his manhood and you instinctively take a step back.

And yet — you can’t look away. It’s shameful to realise that you’re more intrigued by what’s before you than you had thought you would be.

All of those deep kisses, crawling into Malcolm’s lap, letting his hands explore under your shirt — nothing has felt quite as scandalous as this. Your eyes are fixated on her hand, on the outline through his shorts and the groan that she draws from his throat.

It moves forwards like a routine, he presses her backwards into the wall and pushes his hips forwards into her palm. As this happens, as her back touches the stone, they’re interrupted. Abruptly, enough fo make them pull away like they’ve been shocked by static. Not by you.

Abigail twists the handle on their side and swings the door open, flushed and stumbling. You had been looking right that way and hadn’t even noticed her rushing down the hall. “Bradley!”

Bradley turns and looks at her quickly, putting some distance between himself and Natasha. The moment has passed and been forgotten, both of them appear to be watching Abigail at first, concern coating their warmed features.

“Zoey’s throwing up.” She hiccups at the end and wobbles. Bradley takes a moment to just stare. Each year he regrets not making this a seniors only opportunity, and winds up dealing with some nineteen year old who got fucked up on cheap wine.

The vein in his throat strains. Perhaps embarrassment, from almost being caught. Shame, from kissing the girl he has tried to stay away from for almost a decade now. Frustration, from how badly he had wanted to go further.

The chill has disappeared now. You’re not cold anymore. You’re warm. You’re glad that you don’t flush the way that he does, or you’d be given away. Eyes on you, it’s a distinct feeling — especially when that person is staring. If your skin flushed half as much as Bradley’s does, Natasha would know just how badly you had wanted to keep watching.

Curiosity, you tell yourself. It’s just something new, exciting. It’s not the way his hands flexed in her hair, the way his jaw ticks now as he tries not to look at her again.

Natasha stares across at you, standing still, almost as statuesque as the pillar beside you. She knows that you just saw that entire thing. She glances across at Bradley, and finds that your eyes have widened when she looks back at you again. Her reddened lips quirk as Bradley rushes away from her, amused by you and the scared little look on your face. You think she’s going to tell him that you were watching.

Then, you straighten out your features and lean your palms forwards, calm. You’re going to tell her husband. Her smile just grows. You’re so much like her.

Bradley spends his evening arguing with one of Natasha’s employees about the cleaning fee for the stained carpet, and routinely checking on Zoey to make sure she’s sobering up.

Natasha’s on his mind the entire time. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over it. He’s still so angry with her. He feels it in the way that she kisses that she’s still pissed off at him too.

By the time he’s headed to bed, it’s almost three, and his mood is plummeting. His hand curls around the handle and he pushes the door to his room open, freezing in the doorway.

“Luke! God fucking damnit!”

Luke scrambles, knees slipping against the sheets as he tries to cover both himself and Robin. He’s over her, they’re both clearly naked — Bradley has already turned his head away, trying not to scream.

“Shit, I — I waited til 2am, and you hadn’t come back to I figured—“

Bradley doesn’t give him a chance to finish, slamming the wooden door shut again. He stands there in the hall, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, trying not to lose his shit.

Natasha’s probably wrapped up in her husband’s arms, secure in the knowledge that she made the right decision — that Bradley wasn’t ever going to give her this.

He glances from one end of the hall to the other, his gaze landing on the room next door. Pulling the master key Natasha graced him with, on the condition that he wouldn’t abuse his power, from his pocket, he turns and lets himself into your room.

You bolt upright in bed. It’s dark, so really he can only see your silhouette. He waves you off and closes the door behind him. It’s not like you don’t know what’s going on next door, you’ve heard every squeak of the mattress for the past twenty minutes.

“Don’t say a damn word, Mrs. Ashworth. I’m going to sleep, and in the morning, every single one of you owes me an apology.”

“You can’t just—“

He stops walking and even through the dark, you can feel the seriousness in his stare. He unbuttons his shirt and kicks off his shoes, then slips into the other twin bed.

Silent, laying on your back, you allow yourself one glance over at him. His bare shoulders, chest, extended from the blankets. He’s still wearing his shorts. You swallow softly, thinking about Natasha’s hands on him earlier, the way he’d pushed so eagerly into his touch.

“Stop staring at me.” Bradley tells you sternly.

“I wasn’t!” You bite back, turning sharply away from him and pulling your covers up to your ears. The second that your eyes are closed, all you can see is his hand inching up under her dress once again. You sigh. “It’s not my fault that Luke’s getting laid and you’re not.”

Bradley doesn’t answer.

…

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin #trouble in paradise #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #the odyssey #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley bradshaw x reader

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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year

Text

The Nanny part 2

note: here's part two to the nanny! i'm hopefully going to try and start to get longer pieces out soon, i'm still trying to get back into the swing of writing fics again.

warnings: mentioned of parental death

trigger warning: one sentence in the fourth paragraph that talks about school shooting, but no violence actually occurs.

word count: 1.6k (sorry it's short, between yesterday and today i've had a headache that wouldn't go away :( )

no beta again, we die like men

inspired by: @roosterforme

previous part | next part

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You just moved to California, wanting a change from the cold Vermont air and where better to stay than with your aunt, Penny Benjamin. Penny was your mom’s sister, an unfortunate accident in 1999 took your mother and your father, you were 10 years old. Penny was more than willing to take in her only niece, even if it meant having you relocate to Virginia with her.

Years had passed and Penny had done all but adopt you, she called you her daughter when people asked, made all your appointments for you until you were old enough to make your own, she helped you with boys, and then girls, when you came out to her. She held you while you cried over your first real heartbreak, she taught you all about your period and safe sex. She made you feel comfortable, like you could go to her with any problem that you had, and she would fix it for you.

Maybe it also helped that your grandfather was an admiral in the United States Navy, but that’s beside the point, Penny Benjamin took care of you when you had no one once, and she was more than happy to do it again.

Being a teacher, especially in today’s world, is hard. You had to worry about whether or not your school was going to fall victim to the next mass shooting, if you could keep your kids safe in an environment where the legislators didn’t care. It was a hard choice to make, leaving the school system, because you knew that they were already understaffed, and that there were no qualified substitute teachers available to take over your position… but between the abuse from your principal, the students, and the entitled parents? You were done.

You at least waited until the end of the school year before packing it all up and moving west. It was a sad goodbye with all the students you had loved but for your sanity, it was what you needed to do.

Penny had an open bedroom, and Amelia was thrilled to be living with you again, mainly so you can help her on her homework, and of course you were happy to see Penny and Pete back together. You always loved having him around when you were a kid, and it really did feel like your relationship with him never waivered, even though you only texted each other for holidays and birthdays after the last time he and Penny “broke up”.

You were laying on the couch scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to whatever it was Amelia had put on the tv when Penny walked in after her short shift at the bar; it was a slow weekend and Jimmy had it plenty under control.

“Hey, so I might have told one of the guys Pete works with that you’d be willing to nanny for him.” Penny says as soon as she walks in.

“Are you talking to me?” Amelia asks, not looking away from the tv and Penny laughs.

“No, your sister.”

That catches your attention and you groan.

“I don’t want to nanny some old admiral’s bratty kids.” you say as you sit up and Penny sits next to you.

“He isn’t an old admiral with bratty kids, he’s 35, the same age as Bradley, and he literally just had an infant dropped off on his front porch today.” she tells you and you look over at her. “He needs a lot of help, and you would be perfect for the job. Aside from working at the bar you’re never doing anything.” she shrugs and steals some of the popcorn that was on the table and you look at her with your mouth open.

“Okay, first off. Rude. Secondly, I do plenty of stuff!”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Uh, I help Amelia with her homework.”

“And you can help her while also helping Jake out with his daughter.” Penny says and you sigh.

“Fine.” you grumble and head into the kitchen, “do you eat yet, Pen?”

“Yeah, Pete brought me food to the bar.”

“Don’t you… serve food at the bar too?”

“Not sushi.”

You spend the next three weeks waiting to meet this Jake guy. Sure you knew of him, but you didn’t want to be persuaded by the ‘Hangman’ persona that he had before becoming a dad. Sure people don’t just change overnight, so you’re sure he still has quite the mouth and attitude, especially if this baby is keeping him up at night.

You opened the bar early and the members of the Dagger Squad slowly filtered in. Bob was sitting at the bar with you while you were getting bottles ready, he was telling you a story from when he was a kid on his family’s farm and he was chasing down pigs and slipped and fell in the mud when the bell above the door rang.

Looking over, you see a man you don’t recognize carrying a little baby in the cutest little dress you’ve ever seen, a diaper bag slung over his other shoulder. You shoot him a smile as he walks up to the bar.

“Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.” you say as you wipe a rag over the bar top, cleaning up some of the iced tea that Bob spilled. “You must be Jake?”

This new man smiles at you and nods, “Yes ma’am.” he says, setting the diaper bag on a barstool.

You watch his muscles flex as he shifts his daughter from one side to the other to give his arm a break and he catches you staring at her. “This is Avery.” he turns so you can see the little girl’s face and you let out a gentle little coo.

“Oh look at you! Aren’t you just the cutest little girl.” you say, talking in a voice that has her laughing and reaching out for you. You take her from Jake without even hesitating and she plays with the fingerprint pendants of your parents that you have hanging around your neck.

Since the bar is still technically closed for another hour and a half, you make your way out from behind the bar and take a seat on the stool next to Bob who smiles at the little girl, pulling away as she tries to reach for his glasses but isn’t quick enough as she rubs her chubby fingers over his lenses.

You and Jake just laugh at her antics and at poor Bob who is left with baby drool covered glasses for the time being, but even he can’t stay mad at little Avery. She looks up at you, blue-green eyes bright as she smiles her little gummy smile and laughs along with the two of you.

Jake can’t believe how comfortable Avery already is with you, it took days for her to warm up to anyone aside from Penny; she still doesn’t like Rooster but Jake believes it's a hundred percent because of his mustache. Normally he’s nervous when she’s around strangers of any kind, even her own doctor when she first saw the woman, but with you he’s oddly… comfortable.

Begrudgingly you hand Avery back to Jake, you have to open the bar in 20 minutes and you’re already way behind but thankfully Bradley volunteers to help you get ready. You’re standing next to him slicing limes as he cuts up some oranges.

“You know, she’s never taken to someone that fast before.” he says, making sure the slices are relatively uniform.

“It’s because I’m a woman.” you tease and he rolls his eyes.

“No, seriously. Penny was a given because she’s just the best, but Phoenix? Bob? She only just started to get along with them, and those two are the best people in this entire squad. It even took her a bit to warm up to Hangman and he’s her dad.” Rooster says, stealing an orange slice that he cut too thin before taking a beer from the fridge under the counter and walking away.”

“You have to pay for that!”

“Put it on my tab, Rings!” he calls out, throwing a wink over his shoulder and you roll your eyes, opening a tab for him before going over to the window and flipping the ‘open’ sign on.

You’re about halfway through your shift when Jake walks up to you, Avery sleeping against him despite the volume of the bar.

“Hey, headed home?” you ask, taking the top off of a few beers before handing them to the patron that was waiting.

“Yeah, figured she would prefer to sleep in her bed tonight than on the pool table.” he jokes and you give a gentle laugh.

“Yeah, probably.”

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out this weekend? Talk about what Pen offered? If-if you still think you can help me out?” he chews his lip a little, nervous for you to say you’re not interested.

“Yeah! Definitely, uh… here,” you grab a napkin and write your number down with a little cartoon drawing of a circle with a ring around it, how you always signed your nickname. “I’m off on Saturday and Penny isn’t opening on Sunday since it’s going to be such a hot night, she wants us to be off so I’ll be free whenever on both days.” you tell him and he tucks the napkin in his pocket with his phone.

“I’ll text you on Saturday? I can pick you up? Or I mean-” you cut him off with a laugh.

“You can pick me up, I assume you know where Penny lives?” he nods and smiles.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“Great, see you on Saturday, Dad-man.” you give him a wink before turning away to go help Jimmy out with the patrons that have gathered around the bar. Jake laughs and turns around to head out, Dad-man?

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