#one day i’ll talk about my ocs here. today is still not that day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rklve · 8 months

Text

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART TWO

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jeon jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around you forever.

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut.

➣ pairing: chef!jk x veterinarian!reader

➣ 8.9k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a mess. mutual pining. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. drinking. jk has a big dick. teasing. cursing. orgasm denial. fingering. breast play (jungkook is weak for tits). clit play. squirting. multiple orgams. hand kink. choking kink. oc loves tattoos, oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex (don't!!!). spitting. lots of prasing. confused feelings.

I can feel your touch, I remember your kiss, 그 말은 아팠지 and I miss you

part one | part two | drabble one

You run to the car once he gets inside and unlocks the door. Immediately you turn on the heater and the radio at the same time. It all feels natural, like riding a bike. The start might feel rusty, but once you get your feet on the pedal, your brain will take you to memory lane. It’s like you’ve always been there. Like you’ve never left.

Jungkook just stares, and then you realize what you’ve just done. “I-I’m sorry. Just thought you’d be freezing. And… old habits.” you stumble over the words and looks straight ahead with your eyes growing bigger from embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S’fine.” Jungkook cuts you off before you start babbling again. Won’t admit he wanted you to do that. This is one of the things he misses the most. Ordinary stuff. You, taking care of him. You, choosing one of your favorite Justin Bieber's songs on his playlist so you two can sing it all loud on the way home. Just you. Being there.

“I’m at my parents tonight, by the way.” His stomach drops. he expected it, but it still hurts. It’s a bad sign. You’re leaving again soon. Just like you did on Christmas last year. Spent 3 days with your family and went back to Australia like nothing happened. At least that’s what he heard from Taehyung, ‘cause he wasn’t here to witness it. He had travelled with his parents back then. But now he‘s here, and he can hear his heart start cracking again just by the thought of it. He’s dumb. So fucking dumb.

“That’s the reason I didn’t want to bother you.” you sigh “I wanted to surprise them but they went to my aunt’s today. Some family celebration I’m not aware of.” you continue as you look past the car window “I found out when I got there and everything was locked up. So I decided to go to Lola’s but found out she was out with Jin for the weekend too. So I just left my baggage at her door and came to the cafe to spare some time ‘till my parents get b— I’m sorry, I’m just babbling shit as usual”

“Just go on, I’m listening” he says. Usually he’s the one talking thru his elbows but knows you do that when you’re nervous too.

“Right. So, you can drop me off at my parents and I’ll get my stuff tomorrow at Lola’s, if that’s okay.” you look back at him now “I’ll wait till they come back home.”

“Have you lost your mind back in Melbourne?” he says looking at the road with a big frown displayed “Not gonna leave you alone by your parents door. In this fucking weather. I’d never do that.” he sighs “You know me better than that, Bee.”

You freeze as you hear him calling you that. Just like he did minutes ago when you called him by his nickname. It’s bellow the belt and he knows it. Probably the reason he said it at the first place. Or not. Maybe it’s just force of habit and he doesn’t even care about that nickname anymore.

“We’ll get your baggage and head to mine. You can stay and call your parents. Wait ‘till the rain calms down and I can take you there.” he says and waits to hear a no from you. But you stay quiet. “Or you can call an uber. Whatever you want. Okay?”

“Okay.” you say, still a little bit unsure. Doesn’t want to bother him. Mess with his plans for a friday night. Your parents house is kinda far from here. You say nothing anyway, ‘cause you also think it’s the safer way out of this situation right now.

He helps you pick up your stuff at Lola’s and head to the other apartment complex two streets away. The ride back to his house is quick and calm. It’s a one-song-away route. A route that is very known by you. You’ve been there so many times, it’s tattoed in your brain. Think you could find your way back there even if you’re blindfolded.

Finally the two of you reach to his door, and you can already hear some sniffing on the other side. A few more seconds and an aggressive scratching follows. Jungkook opens the door and gets in with your bags.

“Hey, buddy. Dad’s home.” You see the now giant dog lick his owners hand, then he looks at you and it’s pure euphoria. He runs fast and puts his big paws in front of you. The next thing you know you’re with your ass on the floor, feeling how much he missed you as he continually licks all over your face swaying his tail from side to side.

“I know baby, I know.” you giggle “I missed you too!”

“Bam! Behave” Jungkook says startled by the way the puppy reacted to you. Quickly leave your bags on the corner of the living room and comes to your rescue. “You can’t just hoop on people like that, man. You’re too big!”

“It’s okay, he’s just a giant baby.” you say as you get up again and start caressing his plain caramel fur.

“You okay?” he asks looking you up and down to see if you hurt yourself.

“Jungkook, I’m fine. You know I deal with animals all the time.”

He softly nods. Yeah, of course he knows. It’s the whole reason you left him anyways. For a fucking job offer. At some big ass veterinary hospital five thousand miles away. Out of the blue. Like he meant nothing to you. And just like that, everything goes back to him and he gulps away his anger. Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable right now. You just got here. Can’t be okay with the idea of you leaving already.

So he just calls Bam and leads him to his separated room, where his food and little house are, alongside all of his toys. “Stay here a little bit, buddy. I’ll bring you out later okay?”

It’s like Bam understand every word he says, as he goes inside his little house and lays down “Good boy.”

Jungkook decides to put some dry clothes before he goes back to you. Takes a little while to choose one, but denies it’s because he wants to make a good impression. Ends up with a plain black t-shirt anyways.

He’s back to the living room and sees you looking around the house with curiosity. It is quite different, you think. Not in a bad way. It’s more sophisticated. The new furniture gives that vibe. All grey-ish. You like it. Matches him and his Chef persona. His kitchen is gorgeous as well. So many more pans that before. One of each size. You still don’t know the bare minimum about it. They all do the cooking and that’s all.

“You hungry?” he asks, realizing you stopped your inspection at the kitchen but never left.

“Kinda.” you say, and right away your stomach growls loud and calls you by your lie. “Okay, very hungry.”

You both laugh and Jungkook starts to pick up his utensils. One of his biggest pans. A big ass spoon. A cutting board. You lost count of how many things he puts on the table.

“Need a hand?” you say, just to be sure. You both know you’re terrible at the kitchen. But you’re at least able to cut some vegetables.

“‘S’fine. You’re probably tired from the flight. Go take a rest.” he says already on multiple duties over the kitchen. You have no idea what he’s cooking, but trust him anyway. He knows what you enjoy like the back of his hand. Knows what you love to eat, and knows you love his food more than anything else in the world.

So you just hum, silently agreeing with him.

You sit up at the couch, and realize it’s a new one too. It’s a big one, and still has that smell like a recently unfolded present. You turn on Netflix. Wonder if you’re too comfortable at this house when you shouldn’t. Are you two going to be friends now? Did he forgive you? Or is he just being kind?

Trying to clean your head for a little bit you pick up your favorite tv show: School of Chocolate. It’s kinda addicting. You know Jungkook claims to hate it but secretly loves it. He always used to argue when you put it in and ended up seated alongside you mesmerized with those big ass sculptures.

“Fuckin’ waste of chocolate.” he suddenly says back in the kitchen. He is able to see the tv from there as well, but he’s concentrated on cutting some bacon anyways. “And some of them can’t even do the easiest tasks. Ends up looking like dog’s poop”

“Are you spoiling me? I didn’t watch this episode yet!” you scream looking back at him “Can’t believe you watched it before me” you giggle “I’m probably the biggest fan of the show.”

“It came out yesterday” he quickly replies “you’re such a fake fan.”

You just puff, feeling insulted by his words.

“Just admit you only watch it ‘cause you think the Chef’s hot”

“Amaury is not my type” you pan back instantly but quickly regret it. What the fuck are you thinking, flirting with him? God, you’re so stupid. He must hate you right now. Definitely will kick you out hungry and cold on the street at any minute now. But Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. If he did, he just plays dumb. Continues to prepare whatever he is cooking and leave you to watch it.

On the kitchen, Jungkook’s heart is beating thru his ears. Can’t believe he heard you. Heard you flirting. If it was a year ago, he would drop the dinner and go towards you. Kiss your smart mouth and laugh with you. Say you better not adore any Chef more than you adore him. Pull you back to the sofa. Kiss your pretty waist and take dessert before dinner is even served.

But he can’t do that. ‘Cause you’re not his anymore. You’re not part of this reality anymore. His reality. You live in a whole new country now and he wouldn’t survive letting you in again knowing you’d leave him anytime soon. So he just shuts it down. Pretends he didn’t hear anything, ‘cause it’s better this way.

A couple of minutes later dinner is ready. He made your favorite dish. Coincidentally he had some vegetable broth ready-made in the refrigerator from Wednesday and the idea came up in his mind. He’s finishing the details and hears you entering the kitchen.

“Where do you put the plates now?” you softly say looking up at him.

“Above you, on your left.” he points out and you go for it right away. Picks up the cutlery and puts everything on the dinner table. His chest pangs, ‘cause it’s just like old times. You used to do this a lot together. Almost every weekend. Or whenever you crashed up at his. He loves to spoil you with his food. Kinda his love language, he figures now.

He grabs the wine from the refrigerator. One of your favorites. He remembers this too. You’re not a big fan of wine but this one is so sweet you can’t refuse. You’re a sweet tooth after all.

“Mmm. Red wine. The sweet one. What are we celebrating?” you play around as you sit. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Won’t admit he bought it thinking about you. Thought he would drink a whole bottle and you’d disappear from his mind like magic.

You didn’t.

“This one was sitting for a while here, gotta get rid of it. Swear nobody likes this shit but you, Bee.”

You try to ignore the nickname again. Tell yourself he only said it as a joke. The wine is sweet. You like sugar. You’re like an annoying bee. Everyone gets it. You’re just like any other bee. Not his Bee.

“Right. I’ll take this one with me then” you giggle softly.

Jungkook now is back with the huge pan and puts it in the middle of the table. By the smell of it, you’re guessing what it is. Your stomach too, as it growls again even louder than before.

“Are you starving yourself?” Jungkook jokes when he hears your hungry system.

“Haven’t eaten properly since I left home.” you giggle a little embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Every once in a while you just forget to eat. You know it’s a bad habit and you’re trying to change that. Jungkook used to be your reminder. You used to eat so well when the two of you were together. Your rough routine made you have cookies for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Quick things to match up with your quick schedule. But Jungkook took care of you. Sent messages thru the day reminding you to buy something. Drink water. Often sent food to your job. Sometimes he would cook himself and leave on the refrigerator so you could take it with you on the next day. You miss being taken care of. You miss being with him.

“You mean you haven’t eaten real food for more than 15 hours?” he says, now upset. “For God’s sake, Bee. You can’t do that.”

You could get sick. Could pass out in the middle of the street. Could hurt yourself. He can’t bare the thought of you getting hurt, and it really upsets him.

You sense the change in his aura so you quickly change de subject. “Fuck off! you made risotto?”

Jungkook just hums, pouty. Still angry at your self-destruction actions. Angry he can’t do anything about it. Puts a good portion for you and for him in the plates. Beautifully arranged just like he does at the restaurant. Knows you like to take pictures so he follows your concept blindly. Guess you’d like to save in the memory lane.

And he guessed it right. You grab your phone instantly and take a couple of pics, but you won’t post it. Will keep it just for you.

“Where’s your glass?” you say after observing he only brought one glass to the table.

“I said I would take you to your parents, dummie.” he plays around, but he’s serious. He won’t drink and drive. His mom would cut his balls out. Your father too.

“Shut up, I can take an uber later. Get yourself one.”

“No, I really don’t mind.” he says stubbornly.

“If you don’t drink, I won’t drink either.” you pouty say and he wonders. Flips his piercing with his tongue for a second. Doesn’t want you to go home with an uber late at night. He will figure something about later. Maybe he can drink half of a glass and then sober up so he can drive you. Just know he can’t resist that face of yours right now, so he gives in a heartbeat.

“You’re the devil.” he chuckles and grabs a glass for himself. Pours a little bit for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like this wine with risotto.”

Then you two start eating. You make your silly little dance with your shoulders. Always do that when you enjoy the food. Jungkook thinks it’s the cutest thing in the word. Best reward he could ever get. Would cook every day and every night to see you this happy.

“This is so good.” you hum away “you’re the best of the bests. The most talented chef in the world. You’re gonna be a superstar someday.”

“Ani.. Stop it!” Jungkook shyly says, his two hands on his face hiding the bunny smile you know he’s carrying.

“I mean it. You will be.” you take a sip of the wine and continues. You know he likes to downplay himself. “I’m talking 3 Michelin stars restaurant.”

“One sip and you’re already talking nonsense.” he giggles. Knows it’s your way of thanking him for the meal but he just can’t take complements like a normal person. Is too shy, even with you.

“Shut up. I’m a big girl now. I could drink this bottle up and still rap to an Eminem song.” You laugh away and Jungkook just follows. Both of you know it’s bullshit. You’re a terrible drinker. Two glasses in and you would be giggling every 3 seconds.

The two of you just stay like this. Talking nonsense. Bickering. Laughing away. Jungkook doesn’t know what time is it, but the rain is still pouring outside. A little bit less angry now, but still. The bottle is almost empty. He doesn’t know when you both stoped counting how many glasses you’ve drank. Doesn’t care anyway. Just wants to spend more time with you like this. Like there’s no real life outside that door. Like you’ve never left. Like you never will.

Eventually Jungkook takes the now empty pan and the two glasses to the sink. Hears you picking up the plates and seconds later you’re by the sink as well. He goes out to pick up the empty bottle of wine to throw it in the trash. When he comes back to the kitchen, you’re already washing the dishes; Drunk and hapilly humming the song you eventually put in between the dinner. Swaying away your perfect molded hips. Jungkook’s mind is fuzzy. Can’t think straight. But he knows damn well he can’t blame it on the wine. He would be like this even if he had no alcohol. You’re the one intoxicating him.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs softly behind you, just above your ear. You can feel his hot breathing and it makes your skin instantly hot too. The damn butterflies you feel every time he’s near are awake again. They’re anxious. Excited.

You turn half of your face to him and say “I’m helping you, silly. I know you hate this part.”

Jungkook gets a little bit closer. Doesn’t touch you, but he can smell your perfume more clearly now. Takes another step and he is able to smell your shampoo too. Strawberries. He loves it so much. Always have.

He can’t hold you, otherwise he won’t be able to let go. So he puts his hands around you, grabbing the corner of the sink. “You don’t have to, baby” he husks “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

You’ve got goosebumps, but you pretend. Pretend hearing him call you that didn’t almost give you a heart attack. Pretend you did not listen to his complains too, and keep washing everything. You’re almost finished. Then you can sit down. Maybe talk. Tell him everything you couldn’t a year ago. Tell him everything you need to tell him now.

But then, you feel his nose on your hair. Caressing throught it. It’s an old habit of his. You know he likes your shampoo, and you’ve never changed it.

“You smell so good, Bee.” your mind is going wild. Don’t know what you should do. You can’t fake it anymore. Blame it on the wine, but the last thing you want to do is to have a conversation right now.

You finish the dishes. Clean your hands and tries to think straight. Gives up.

“Jungkook…” you softly say.

And just like that, he comes a little bit closer. His buffed chest on your back now. “Mmm?”

He can’t hold it back. He misses you like a fucking junkie and you are the drug on display. Right at his face.

Meanwhile, you lean into his body. Your eyes are closed like you’re trying to get out of your foggy mind. Trying to do the right thing. He thinks this is the right thing. Does not care about breaking his heart tomorrow. He can deal with it later. His heart needs you now. He can just pretend for a little and everything will be fine.

So he closes the little gap that still exited between the two of you. Grabs you by the waist and looks down at your face. Waits for you response. You open your eyes instantly, and all he sees is red. Lust. Passion. Need. He knows those eyes. And he knows that’s what you’re feeling, ‘cause he feels it too.

But he’s still careful. His hands roam all over your body when he kisses your cheek softly. Feels his lips tingling with the sensation. Takes it to your neck. Knows exactly where your sweet spot is, and that’s what he aims. Takes a little while there now. Sucks a little bit. Your skin feeling hot under his lips. He drags his tongue slowly over the same spot. Hears you hissing and feels proud. Feels his cock throbbing too, happy with the sounds you make.

Jungkook softy turns your head and your lips are almost touching. You’re so close you can feel his breath like it’s your own. Your lips are begging you to go forward, but you’re scared to screw things up. So you bite your lip back.

“Fuck it.” he says and takes the first step. Holds your face with his palm and crash your lips together. It’s like you’re both starving for years as you sigh relived when your tongues meet. The kiss is passionate. Your lips molding each other, dancing together like they’ve never stopped. Like they’ve always done. Like you’re made for each other. You can’t get enough of him. He can’t get enough of you. So many feelings flowing thru a simple kiss. So you just go on and on and on. Deepens it, if it’s possible. Arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lost on his soft locks. Want him to know how much you care about him. How sorry you are. How much you miss him.

And he gives back. Kisses you like it’s his final act on earth. Kisses you like a starved man. Kisses you like you’re everything to him until he feels his lungs failing him, so he backs up a little to catch a breath.

“I think—“ you start saying, but suddenly you stop. His tattooed hand grabs your throat. Doesn’t strangle you, just puts it there. Caresses it. Let you know that he has made up his mind. That he knows all your weaknesses — that being one of them. He knows how to make you feel good and he’s silently now begging you to give in too.

“Don’t.” he husks and now squeezes your neck. Just enough to make that little spot in your brain tell you’re pleasured by the action. You gasp and let out a broken moan as he continues, now adding little love bites on your shoulder. His bulge growing behind you. So you finally do what you’ve been craving for the whole night.

Jungkook feels you start to rub your ass on his crotch slowly, but firmly. “Shit, baby.” He moans. Feels so fucking horny. Can’t remember the last time he was this hard. Thinks he will nut his pants like a fucking virgin if you keep this up. But he doesn’t care. Wants more. Wants you. So he starts to roll his hips too, meeting you halfway.

“Jungkook” you say with that pretty tone of yours. He knows you. Knows what you want, but he needs to hear it.

“What is it, baby?” he whispers against your ear now. The hand that was in your throat now travels south. It teases you. Goes around your breast. Acts like he will, but does not touch it. He wants you needing. Wants you begging.

“Please.” you say unquiet.

“Use your big girl words, Bee.” he plays around. Sucks your ear lobe. “Say it.”

“Want you to touch me.” you finally say.

“Good girl.” he husks, then turns you over. Grabs you by your waist and sits you on the counter. Puts himself between your thighs. Pulls you closer. Looks at you with his pretty big eyes. Wanting. Expecting.

“Kiss me.” you say and he wastes no time to do so. Kisses you again. Even more fervently than before. Wants you to remember. Bites your lower lip and sucks your tongue. Knows it drives you crazy. You moan into the kiss and he mirrors you. Feels pleasure seeing you this turn on. Wants to keep doing it till he’s fucking six feet under. Feels so blessed seeing you like this after all this time.

You grab his thick hair, pining it like you know he enjoys and he hisses into your mouth. His fingers dig deeper on your skin and you know it’s gonna leave marks.

“You drive me fucking insane.” he says as you pull away, looking at you with half his eyes open, lust exhales from all his pores. You give him a little smirk in return. Loves seeing him like this. All needy. All yours.

He takes back the control. Now he’s the one pulling your hair and you let out a loud moan from the pleasure. You love this. Your core is aching, pussy clenching around nothing trying to get some relief, so you know your body loves it too;

His mouth quickly follows your now exposed throat and kisses it. Sucks. Bites. Leaves tiny nips all over. Does whatever he wants with it, ‘cause he knows it gets you soaked up. Just thinking about it makes him needier so he starts to unbutton your pants, looking back at you to make sure you’re okay with this and you give him silent nods with that pretty little smile on you face.

He wants this moment to last forever, so he takes his time. Looks down on you ‘cause it feels like forever since he last saw you like this. You’re wearing a pretty lacy pink underwear. It’s like you want him dead. “Fuck you.” he says, still looking at your covered pussy with the cute underwear. You giggle a little bit. Knows he loves pink on you, says it enhances your skin color.

The hand that was on your hair starts to explore, travels across your throat and gives one final squeeze as he kisses your lips, bites it down, lick the swollen lip as the hand continues to go down. Takes a little step back and pulls up your shirt. Quickly gets back where he belongs and his lips are on you chest. Little pecks all over it. Teasing. Savoring. Jungkook claims himself a butt guy, but he swears he could happily die between those tits.

Both of his hands are on your covered breasts now. He cups them and starts to salivate with the view. Needs to suck it or he will die. So he takes off your matching bra and instantly puts his lips around your nipple. Sucks it like an obsessed man. Growls as he feels it harden against his tongue so he bites it. Wants to hear you scream from pleasure and so you do.

“Jungkook! Fuck!” you say as you arch your back, giving him more access to your tits. One of your hands grab the corner of the sink for support, the other is pinning his dark locks like your life depends on it. With his right hand Jungkook rubs the neglected breast. Slaps it and pinches the hard nipple across his thumbs. You let another loud moan and you can feel your pink underwear sticking. “Koo..”

And then he looses it. Can’t hear you all needy, calling him that. Does something to his mind and his dick. Knows it is rock hard under his pants right now. He has to do something about it, but the only thing he can think of is you. Giving you pleasure. Make sure you remember how good he is to you. Make you never want to leave again.

So with that in mind he kisses his way down. Kisses your pretty belly. Get on his knees and open your legs. Kisses your inner thighs. Looks over and you’re biting down your lips, looking like a fucking sex goddess. He’s crazy about you. Thinks he might as well fucking die if he can’t get this view for the rest of his life.

He goes a little further, aiming to the sweet spot between your legs. Put his nose on it so he can smell you. “Fuck. Missed this pussy so much.”

You whine at his words. You missed having him like this too. Heart thrums against your ribs when you sense his face closer into the warm of your cunt. He puts the underwear aside and licks your dripping folds just once. Slowly. Wants to savor you like fine wine. Groans when it hits his taste buds. “Swear this is the sweetest thing i’ve ever put my mouth on.”

You giggle, ‘cause you know he’s exaggerating. Such a Jungkook thing to do. “That’s big coming from you, Chef.” he looks back at you and smirks. “You don’t believe me” he leaves one bite on your thigh as a retaliation for not believing his words. Then gets up again. Grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It’s all messy. Wants to show you how sweet you are on his tongue. How addicting it is.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Puts his fingers on your lips. “Open.”

You love his dom persona, so you obey immediately. Take his fingers like you know will get him imagining things. Licks it, slowly. Shows him what you could be doing on another part of his body. He takes this as a challenge. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”

He won’t let you get away, tho. Finally strips you out of the underwear and takes his wet fingers down your cunt. Presses your swollen clit, rubbing his thumb over it painfully slow and suddenly you don’t feel like playing anymore. “Jungkook, don’t tease me.”

And for once he does as you ask without second thoughts. Puts his fingers inside your tight pussy and starts pumping inside you. You meow like the pretty kitty you are. “S-shit.. so good…”

He takes his pace, goes faster and his dick twists on his sweatpants with the sloppy sounds the movements take out of your pussy. His fingers are soaked up as he feels you start to milk them, chasing your high.

“P-please don’t stop. Oh my g-good!”

And then he does. Kinda feels wicked when you open your now teary eyes as he pulls out but he swears he will make it up to you. “I hate you.”

He just giggles and gets on his knees again.

“Want my dessert now.” he huskily whispers.

Before you notice, your thighs are on his shoulders and his face is on your pussy again. He’s eating you out like a literal dessert. Licks your folds with his hungry tongue and gets you moaning like crazy. “Could eat this pussy every fucking day.” he says, then puts his tongue flat on you clit. You know the drill. Have done this so many times before and just the thought of if gets you dripping even more. “Ride my face, baby.”

And so you do. Grab his hair with both of your hands and hold him on the perfect spot. He starts to move the tip of his tongue on your nub and you match his movements with your hips. Both of you get more and more turned on as you grind yourself further into his face.

“So good, baby. Shit…” you whimper and he moans into your clit when he hears your words. Puts his lips around it. Bites it. Suckes like his life depends on it. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, nudging at his nose and it’s the final act for you to come undone. “Jungkook, fuuuck!” you scream and pulls his hair tight when the pleasure wave washes you. You keep riding his face slowly and he gives your pussy kitty licks prolonging your high. You sigh relieved. He keeps drinking your sweet slickness till the last drop. Moans tasting your juice like it's the very first time. Takes his face back and he’s all covered in you, from his nose to his chin. It’s the hottest thing in the world.

He cleans himself with the back of his hand and suddenly picks you up bridal style, heading to his bedroom. You're taken by surprise, but you love when he manhandles you.

"What are you doing?" you ask still a little big foggy with the afterglow.

"Taking you to inaugurate my new bed" he giggles a little bit.

"Jungkook! That's disgusting!"

"I want your smell on it, what’s wrong?" he says naturally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You don't want to get your hopes up 'cause you still haven't talked, but he's not making it easy for you.

You look up at him and just can't hold your stupid smile back. He's so gorgeous. The most beautiful man you've ever seen. His pretty little dimples are peeking 'cause he has a little smile on his face too. You realize you love every little detail there is about Jungkook. His beautiful moles; the one on his chin, on his neck, on his cheek. The tiny scar he got from a silly fight with his brother. His bunny teeth. His big, beautiful starry brown eyes. Yeah, you're never getting over this goof. It's humanly impossible.

So you just accept your fate. Whatever this night might bring, you’ll go for it. Heartbreak or healing. There’s no going back now.

Jungkook puts you down on his bed and just stares at you by the end of it. Still fully clothed, also wears that silly smile on his face. Gosh, he’s so fucking perfect.

You just grab him by his t-shirt and pull him closer. He almost falls over you but uses his arms to hold his weight. Towers over you but keeps staring. The previous smile washed away from his face now, and you’re scared he’s already regretting everything.

It’s intense, the way he looks at you. Got you curling your toes in excitement. In fear. In anticipation.

So you just avert your eyes to his pretty pillowy pink lips. Specifically to the mole under it, and you feel like kissing it like you used to.

In the meantime he starts undressing. Takes off his t-shirt and you gasp as you realize he has some new tattoos. One on his chest and more on his shoulder. All of the old ones are colored too. More alive. It’s so pretty.

“You colored them.” you say softly, letting your fingers go across all of them.

“Needed to put some color in my life somehow.” he responds quietly. Like he wanted to say more, but choose to hold it down.

You look back at him and the atmosphere is fuzzy again. There’s no going back from this, really. Not when he’s this close to you. Not when you feel your heart thrumming so fast it might explode. Not when you’re back here again, in his arms.

So wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You need to be sure. “Do you want me?”

You’re so close you can feel his broke sigh when he says, “More than anything.” And then kisses you.

Not like a hungry man now.

Worst, like a man in love.

Kisses you awfully slow, twisting his tongue perfectly with yours. Sucks the life out of you. Got you moaning when he pulls out and licks your under lip as well. He grabs the back of your head and guides you into delicious positions for the kiss. It’s dreamy. It’s fulfilling. It’s everything you missed.

Jungkook can’t take it anymore, so he pulls himself down on you. Instantly feels your excitement wetting his sweatpants and his dick throbs for more of it.

He starts to grind against your fully naked pussy and you meow into the kiss, still feeling sensitive. Feels so good tho, so you start grinding back on him. What’s left of your cum mixing with arousal, making it even more satisfying for the both of you.

“So greedy…” he husks “Can never get enough, can you?”

You just nod, biting your lips. Feeling even more turned on by his low voice talking shit right now. You need him as soon as possible. So you keep going. Your both taking a pace now. “For god’s sake, take these off”

Jungkook feels his cock aching, burning, wanting. His balls might be petrified right now. Need you or he might die. So he just obeys. Backs off and throws it all away. Goes back to you instantly.

Starts to kiss you again, ‘cause he can never get enough of that sweet taste of yours. It’s like heaven on earth. His body grows hot and electrified as he feels your pussy clenching when he puts his hard dick between your folds. Keeps teasing, just cause he can. Wants to make you suffer a little bit more.

You break the kiss and whine into his ear. “Don’t be mean.”

He giggles and bites down on your left shoulder.

“I won’t, baby.”

His body says otherwise tho, as he slowly eases into you and and stops with just the tip inside. The feeling of his dick intruding your small hole is enough to make goosebumps rise all over his body and his breath to falter “Shit.”

“Koo..”

“Patience is a virtue, y’know.” he says, trying to command his heart to function like a normal person’s organ again.

“I don’t care about virtues right now, nerd” you joke and hear him tsc.

“You’ll never learn to not be sassy when you’re under me, will you?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, though. Fills you up abruptly and you gasp with surprise. It’s so fucking delicious that got both of you moaning in sync.

“Fuck, you’re just as tight as I remember” he says “You okay?”

“Yes,” you say desperately with a broken voice. You need him to move.

And so he does. Suddenly picks up his pace and starts to bottom you out. Fill you up. Repeat. His big dick stretching you out deliciously even better than you remember it did. Your mind did no justice to his talent at all. It’s like he was made for you. Understands your body and soul perfectly. Fits you perfectly. Makes you want more and more and more.

He grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder, getting both of you in a nasty position that got him growling and you drooling.

Oh, he knows perfectly where your sweet spot is.

“Fuck, that’s it, Jungkook.” He smirks when he sees you loosing your mind. Knows it won’t take a while for you to come undone since he’s hitting your most sensitive point right now. With his other hand he puts a hand on your throat and squeezes it. Feels you milking his dick and moaning low.

“My baby likes to be strangled, huh?” he murmurs “Such a dirty girl”

You moan even louder as you feel him going faster. His endurance is crazy and you know it. Got you crawling up the walls every time.

“Tell me,” he says in between the thrusts “Tell me how good it is, Bee.”

“So fucking good, baby” you pan back, completely lost in pleasure right now. Your eyes are closed, all you see is the red starts he makes you see with every sweet thrust in your throbbing cunt.

He let down your leg and comes closer to you. Gives your neck little pecks and goes back to face you.

“Look at me.”

And so you open your eyes. He’s looking at you that same way. The loving way.

You can’t take this. Your heart can’t take this. Him, looking at you like that. Him, being the most precious human being there is. Him, being the greatest decision you’ve ever done. ‘Cause that just reminds you how you’ve ruined everything.

It’s like he feels your swipe of feelings so he slows the movements and gives you one sweet kiss before pulling out. Grabs you by the hips, putting you on top of him. You’re on charge again. It’s your decision, he’s silently saying.

With both of your thighs strangling his body and your hands around his neck you stop in front of him. Don’t do anything. Just admire him. Want to keep this moment bottled in your brain forever. His sweet, loving eyes. His pretty dimples. His chin’s mole—your favorite mole. Every detail there is about him.

Your pull him closer and slowly go for your aim. Put your lips on the pretty mole like you wanted to since you first saw him tonight. Keeps it there and sense his broke sigh. You sigh back. Your chest pangs. Your throat hurts and it’s not in a good way. Your start to feel your eyes watering and pulls back.

“Baby…” he says softly, looking at you with slightly frowned eyebrows, stroking your hips with his fingers.

You know he wants to say something. Something important. Probably something that you two should’ve said before any other thing that happened tonight. But you don’t want to ruin this moment. Not now. Not ever.

So you just shut him up with your lips. Savor him one last time before everything breaks down. Kiss him as if his taste is the oxygen you need to survive.

And he gives it to you right back. Almost as he’s fearing the same thing too. Almost like he doesn’t want to ever let go.

So you just climb up and position your needy pussy above his dick with his help. Delicately easing him into you, stretching you open deliciously till he’s bottomed you up and you can feel how good it is to wrap yourself around him.

“Shit” you moan, feeling so good after good knows how long. “You fill me up so good.”

You start moving up and down, feeling everything there is to feel, giving yourself up to him.

“Pussy was made for me.” he whispers to your lips. “Just for me.”

He moans when your walls clench around his dick, dripping arousal with his words.

“Fuck.” he husks “That’s it, baby.”

You do it again, now on purpose ‘cause you know it makes him insane. You need him like that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jungkook holds you in place and starts bulking his hips up, cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Mmm, too good…” you whimper when he begins a pace that has you seeing stars.

He sighs when he looks at you. His dick is socked with your arousal. Fills you up perfectly, like his body was designed to connect with yours this way. The way it goes in and out drives him mad; but when he looks up at you, closed eyes, full lips trapped between your teeth, hands squeezing those perfect tits. Got him gooshing. Got him head over heals all over again. Got him fucking screwed.

“Fucking perfect.” he moans “Look fucking perfect being dicked down by me”

He feels your walls tighten even more so he slows it down. Wants to make this last more. Wants to make you feel more. That’s not enough, can’t be enough.

So he stops his pumps and holds you down. Just like second nature, your arms wrap around his neck again and you start moving towards him, now rubbing your pussy in sweet movements that he knows will treat your swollen clit well. Knows you love this position, so he helps you out. Spits on one of his fingers and drags it down to your sweet bud. Massages it. Pinches. Makes you whimper, just ‘cause he likes the sound of it.

“Shit, shit, shit, Jungkook!” you say as your hips follow your needs, bulking against his pelvis now. It’s so delicious you think you might go crazy. His dick rubs the perfect spot inside you as your clit gets the perfect friction to set you off.

Jungkook pulls your hair to guarantee his access to your neck, leave tiny love marks all over it. Got you hissing against his shoulder.

“I got you, Bee.” he husks softly.

It’s frightening how fast your climax approaches. You feel the hot waves coming back, building up that frizzing feeling again.

Goosebumps all over your body, you back up to look at him.

You both stare at each other, hips trying to meet the perfect pace now. A sweet pace that has you two building it up together. Feeling together. Giving in together.

His hands are on your ass cheeks, guiding your deep movements, making your cunt take his dick just the way he likes, too. He feels you milking his cock with your walls and his eyelids are tattooed with stars.

“Shit, Bee.” he whimpers “Swear I could die right here and now.”

You giggle and just continue the intense pace. It’s inevitable, to not get emotional. ‘Cause you know you could have this forever. You’ve had everything you could’ve ever wanted. Yet, you let it go.

He opens his eyes again and you’re there. Looking at him with big doe eyes. Loving eyes. Teary eyes. Realizes he loves the shit out of you and cannot think about letting you go again. He will do any fucking thing. Go thru long distance. Take how many flights there is to take. Move to fuckass Australia. Whatever it takes. Just knows you two can’t be separated again.

So he makes love to you. Wants you to remember how it is to be loved. To be loved by him. Tries to show how electrified he feels right now. Needs you to feel the same way.

He guides your hips to continuously make those movements that got him curling his tip toes. One of his hands goes down to you clit again to make it even better for you. Knows it will get you cumming in a heartbeat.

“Ah, fuck!” you moan when he intensifies the rubbing on your harden button. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” he husks teasingly. That’s all he wants right now. You, coming undone because of him. The thought itself makes his own climax approach as well, mixed with you cunt stimulations and the sweet sounds you make: that’s the perfect receipt for —his— disaster.

Your body seems to obey him, as he starts to give in and the electric feeling of the orgasm tingles from you head to toe. “Koo, fuck!” you scream, eyes rolling backwards so hard you don’t think you’ll be able to see anything but starts for days.

Jungkook tries to prolong your feeling as he turns you over. Spits directly on your cunt, fucks you rough thru your climax.

“Koo, it’s too much.” you meow, eyes closed with goosebumps all over your body.

“No baby,” he whispers “Just one more, you can take it.”

So he starts the circled rubbing on your clit again. Grabs your hip firmly in a position that got you curling your tip toes.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again, pretty baby.”

Tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel everything amplified right now. It’s like you’ve been electrocuted all of the sudden. It’s like you need to cum or you will die.

Jungkook feels your dripping walls throbbing around his dick again and increases his pace, getting himself there too. “Fuck, that’s it, Bee.” he moans. Keeps rubbing your clit meanly till he feels his hand muscles hurt. “Gonna cum on this pretty pussy.”

“Koo…” you whisper and he feels your final spasms. Suddenly his dick and his hands are washed with your squirt. You fucking squirted on him. Jesus. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Fuck baby, fuck!” he says and increases the pace. The new wave of climax seems to be just what he needed to fuse his own orgasm. Everything that was building up now crumbles down when you spasm from your head to toe, body shaking and pussy as tight as ever, making him spill hot shots of cum all over your walls, filling you up, finally staying where it belongs.

He slows the movements now, pumping his every seed inside of you. Needs every part of him on you. His body, mind and soul are yours.

"So pretty dripping with my cum." he smirks.

You whimper with the nastiness of it all. You love it, and he knows it.

He gives you one last peck and eventually crumbles down next to you. Your heart is in a race, thrumming so hard you think it might break your bones now. You don’t know what to do. What’s next. Where this got you two.

Jungkook’s in no better place. The wave of afterglow is slowly fading and his mind is everywhere. He looks at his bedroom ceiling. Wants to say the right thing. Nothing comes to mind. So he turns sideways. Looks at you. Finds the courage he needs when he sees those pretty eyes.

“Bee.” he whispers. Comes closer to you, like he’s about to tell a secret. Keeps a little distance tho, just enough to look at your eyes. Wants to see your reaction. Wants to see the true feelings in them when he says, “Don’t leave me again.”

Your gasp is audible, eyes two sizes bigger as the tears you’ve been holding back all night now roll down your cheeks.

“Please” he says, voice cracking too as if he’s expecting the worst. Expecting you to make the wrong choice again.

“Jungkook—“ you whisper, trying to find the right words.

“Baby, I’ll do anything.” he nervously says “We can try long distance. I have enough money to travel at least once a month.” he starts babbling out.

“O-or if it’s to hard for us, I’ll try to find a restaurant in Australia. I’ll move out with you.” he says with his chest hurting, seeing you taken aback again. He can’t loose you. “Fuck, I’ll literally drop anything there is for you.”

He closes his eyes now. Turns over again. Doesn’t want to see the rejection in your eyes. Doesn’t want you to see the tears on his. He’s too weak for you. Too weak for his own good.

“But I understand i-if..” his voice trails off in hurt, his throat tightening “I understand if you don’t have feelings for me anymore.”

“Koo…” you softly say, giggling with teary eyes. You climb up on him. He keeps his eyes closed like he’s scared of the world outside his eyelids. “Look at me.”

He slowly does, and the trapped little tears fall over, his perfect nose is pinkish, and you just want to melt away.

“I’m not leaving.” you softly say, wiping out his beautiful cheeks.

“W-what?” he stumbles over his words. He can’t believe he heard you right. That can’t be.

“I’m not leaving. I came this time to stay.”

“Are you fucking with me, Bee?” he abruptly stands up and almost got you falling off the bed. He holds you tight on his lap, tho. “Be serious right now.”

You laugh out loud now. Can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe he wants you after all this time. After everything that’s been thru.

“Jeon Jungkook. I swear on Bam’s life” you say with a bright smile on your face.

“Hey! Don’t swear on Bam’s life!”

Like he was waiting for the perfect time, the puppy shows up by the end of the bed, swiping happily his tail with his big eyes looking at both of you.

“Nobody called you here, man.” Jungkook jokily says. Wants to have his private time with you now, and knows Bam will be all over both of you if he stays. “Go back to your room, big boy.”

The puppy stubbornly stays. Looks at you, like he wants the words to come from you now.

“Go, Bamie. We’ll play with you later.”

And so he does, like that’s all he needed to hear to obey.

“Fucking joke.” Jungkook cuffs “Even the dog is head over hells for you.”

"So..." you say with a stupid grin all over your face you might as well apply for a role as the joker. "You're head over hells for me, hm?"

"So..." he immitates you. Knows it tickles the shit out of you. Bickering with you is his love language, too. "You're not going back to Australia?"

"Uh-hum." you giggle, playing with his dark locks.

"What happened? Kangaroo kicked your head over there?"

"Missed my Koogaroo" you pan right back.

"Oh, shut up." He lets out one laud laugh and turns you over in bed, tickles all over your body until your crying.

You both just stare at each other, big smiles spread out in your faces. Happinees flowing thru and between you. That's it. That's where you belong.

"I really missed this." you say softly.

Jungkook towers over you again. Kisses your lips softly. "Missed," your nose. "You," your forehead. "So much." all of your face.

"I love you, Koo." you say softly, staring at him. Staring at his soul. Hoping he believes you. Believes you never stoped loving him, not now, not ever.

"I love you too, Bee."

AND THAT WAS IT! what do you guys think? I struggled so much on the smut parts wtffff why is it so hard hahaha

I was thinking about doing some drabbles of the story since I loved the couple sm! they're so sweet, right? also thought about developing her friendship with tae, maybe after jk/oc are back together, his reaction and apologies ??? or maybe the background of oc/jk's f2l, the day she left aahhh there's so much i could do!

again, i'm sorry if there are any typos! please leave comments if you like the story, i'll accept requests too <3 promise i'll come back soon

taglist: @kooliv @serendipity713 @5seos @pointofviewyugyeom @glitterybreadtimemachine @olimpiiaa @kooklovee @coffeewkth @valwnn @tae-hibiscus @skzthinker @lazyyhooman @sharkipoonis @kiylasstuff @kissyfacekoo @spicxbnny @cookysstuff

tysm for supporting my ff, i hope you enjoy :) xx

2K notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 3 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 18) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You try to adapt to life without Jake beside you anymore.

Series Master List

Master List

Dear Jake,

You probably haven’t even reached the aircraft carrier yet. You might even still be on the ground in Miramar. But I couldn’t wait. I miss you. You’ve been gone for less than five hours, and I already miss you so much. I'm not saying that to try and make you feel bad, but because it's the only thing on my mind now.

Everyone offered to take me out today to try and distract me, but I declined. I think that I just want some time to myself. I honestly don't even want to get out of bed. Maybe I’ll do some cleaning. Or who knows? Maybe I’m an accomplished knitter who hasn’t discovered her talent yet. Or maybe I’ll bake again. I don’t know.

Also, all of the tee shirts you left behind are now mine. Sorry, it’s just wife rules. You shouldn’t have married me and knocked me up if you didn’t want me to steal your stuff.

I miss you. I love you. And so does our little girl. Come home safe, Lieutenant Commander. That’s an order.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I went back to work today. Everyone tried to talk to me about you and the wedding and everything, but I just wanted to be left alone. Also, my cravings are all over the place now. And half of the stuff seems to make me throw up these days. Luckily, I still have the gum and toothbrush in my desk.

How’s everything? I assumed that you made it to the carrier by now. Or maybe you’re somewhere else entirely.

You know all of those spy movies over romanticize how sexy it is to be waiting at home for your husband to return home from some top secret mission.

It’s not sexy. It’s just annoying.

Here’s a photo of me and my bump. Don’t mind the mess in the background, I’m rearranging the whole apartment. Call it nervous organizing. It'll be cleaned up. Eventually.

She’s been a shy ever since you left. I can still feel her moving around, but even she seems to have realized that you're gone. I think that she just misses you. And I can’t blame her because I miss you too.

I love you, Jake. Come home safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I got the package that you bought for me. I hope that you know that if you were here, I would have given you a rerun of that time that we went to that desert concert. The one where you wouldn't remove your hands from my waist for a second. I hope that your big promotion doesn’t change how much you enjoyed it when I tied your hands up back in your truck.

Our daughter’s been moving around like crazy today ever since I played your voice for her. She doesn’t seem to be willing to kick yet, but we’ll get there in time.

I let Emma take me out today. We just took a walk around her neighborhood. Baby girl finally went to bed after that. But knowing her, she’ll wake up just in time for me to go to bed.

Here’s our photo from today. Emma took it. I can’t believe I’m going to get even bigger. You owe me a deep tissue massage on my back when you get home. And I’ll hold you to it.

We love you and miss you, Jake.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in with Mav today. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong. Being alone with my thoughts just makes me sad and lonely and I don’t want our daughter to bake in that. She needs to inherit your smile and dimples, so I’m making a bigger effort to be happy.

Penny took me to get my nails done today. I got a light pink for our daughter, but now everyone’s assuming that we’re having a girl. I haven’t confirmed it because we didn’t discuss it before you left but don’t be shocked when you come home to a lot of pink.

I also started seriously researching some girl names. I never realized how many people I don’t like until I started trying to name our daughter. And you better speak up if any of the ones that I suggest are ones that have bad meanings to you.

I’m still digging through a whole bunch of lists but there’s such weird ones out there, Jake. And we cannot name our child something that would get us a look from her teachers. Or a stripper name.

I love you. Baby girl is behaving herself, but she misses you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

To My Beautiful Wife,

I finally got a chance to check my email. We’re settled on the carrier now, but we’ve been doing a lot of drills and long briefings. I'm sorry that I haven't written earlier. Know that the two of you are always on my mind.

I’m glad you got your gift. I tried to record what I could think of for our baby girl. I don’t want her to miss anything. And I don’t want her keeping you up at night. Has she kicked yet? By my count, you’re hitting seven months in a day or two.

Thanks for sending me those photos. I put up one of the two of you from that photo shoot in my plane. Really brightens up the place. But it also reminds me of what I’m missing. Sometimes I have to take it down so I can focus.

I miss you. I miss our little girl. Every day, every hour, every second.

Try to relax. I know that everyone’s probably told you that a thousand times by now, but I don’t want you feeling stressed about me. I’m fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. Please tell me that you didn’t lift anything heavy while you were moving into Mav’s house. Or maybe it's better if you don't tell me.

And you can tell everyone about her. I don’t mind. It’s not like we could keep it a secret for much longer anyways. But make sure to mention that I was right.

And you have to tell me the worst names that you've seen on these lists. I left a list of baby names I liked in my nightstand. I'd research them when I couldn't sleep at night.

I love you and I love our daughter. I’ll try to be home soon.

Your Husband,

Jake

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I had my seven month appointment today. Baby girl is healthy and still measuring a little small. But her heartbeat is strong and I can tell that she’s going to be stubborn coming out. The doctor says that it’s only a matter of time before she starts kicking.

I hope that the ocean isn’t too rough and you can see the stars. I remember when Mav and I spent a month in Hawaii when I was a teenager. We saw the most beautiful stars there. What if we picked a star name for our daughter? Not Stella, though. That was our dog's name growing up and I can't name my daughter after a dog.

I didn’t lift anything. Mav wouldn’t let me. And neither would Bradley. They’re watching me like hawks these days. And no, I didn’t mean that as a bird joke. Also, I can’t name our daughter after a bird. I’m trying to end the family streak of joke names.

Mckeighleigh was the most ridiculous looking name I’ve seen so far. And we’re not naming our daughter Precious either. Or worse, Chastity. I don’t know how those nurses keep a straight face when they hear those names.

And your recording telling her to go to bed has come in handy lately. Though I did warn her that we’ll be discussing the fact that she only seems to listen to you about that when she comes out.

I love you so much Jake. You’ll be home soon, I know it. And we’ll be waiting for you when you do.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I can't fall asleep, so I’m writing to you instead. And no, it wasn’t our baby girl who kept me up. I’ve had the worst heartburn these days. And Tums don’t do shit. They say that means that our daughter will come out with a full head of hair. I say that I'd take a bald baby in exchange for better sleep.

My baby shower is in a few days. Next weekend. Emma and Phoenix said that it was going to be relatively small, and I hope that they stick to it. I’m not really in the mood to see a lot of people anymore.

I yelled at Bradley the other day for making an omelet with three eggs because he left an egg in the carton without a 'friend' because he left an egg alone in its row since there was an odd number of eggs. Apparently, I kept crying about it for a while, but in all honesty, I don’t really remember much of that conversation. I’m pretty sure that Bradley’s keeping his distance now. You probably would have enjoyed seeing his face.

I asked for a little box at my baby shower to put name suggestions in. I’m running out of ideas. I keep worrying that we’re going to name her something stupid.

Baby girl is growing bigger, and I can’t believe that I’m still going to get fatter. I’m struggling to grab things off of the floor now. Maverick got me one of those grabby things that old people use. You would probably find it hilarious.

I love you. I miss you. I’ll write to you tomorrow.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

“Thank you,” you told Emma as she handed you a lemonade.

Emma and Penny took you out for the day to spend some time out of Mav’s house. You were growing increasingly less interested in leaving your 'nest,' as Bradley nicknamed it, and they were trying their best to get you motivated to go out and continue to live your life.

You had done some shopping for a dress to wear to your baby shower and now the three of you were getting a snack before you’d head over to the Hard Deck for the rest of the afternoon. You chatted for a moment before you sighed, slowly got to your feet, and grabbed your purse from your chair.

“Bathroom?” Emma asked you.

“Where else?” you joked, walking off.

A few minutes later, as you were washing your hands at the sink, you looked up when another woman stepped inside the bathroom. You offered her a friendly smile before her familiarity suddenly struck you. Quickly drying your hands, you reached for your bag and turned to leave. But the woman stood directly in your path.

She had stripes of gray cutting through what appeared to be deep auburn hair. She carried herself with a sense of purpose. And an expensive handbag. She reminded you of some of the women you used to see at the country club that you worked at in college. The type who turned a blind eye when their pig husbands made some demeaning comment to the women on staff and were never seen without some kind of drink in their perfectly manicured hands.

“You know who I am?” Georgia Seresin asked softly.

You stared her down, gripping the strap of you bag tightly. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you could practically feel the rhythm in your ears. Taking a breath and releasing it, you tilted your chin up and narrowed your eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded quietly, looking around the small public bathroom. No one else was in there except for the two of you. “Are you stalking me?”

“I came to California when my son didn’t respond to my letter.”

“I wonder why?” you wondered sarcastically.

“What did he tell you?”

“Everything,” you stated firmly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you stopped acting like it was just a coincidence that you ran into me here, hundreds of miles from your home, when Jake is conveniently deployed.” You paused for a moment before repeating through gritted teeth, “Why are you here?”

“To talk to you. About my son.”

“What about your son?”

“I know that your child isn’t here yet, but when they’re born, perhaps you can understand how much pain it could cause a mother to miss out on their child’s wedding or the process of them expecting their first child. From a mother to a mother—”

“—I’m going to stop you right there.”

You tried to keep your tears of anger in as you thought about Jake’s expression when he told you about his childhood. When you thought about the pain that you could hear in his tone, that you could feel radiating off of him.

“Because a woman who calls herself a mother would never do the things that you did. You stole him from a poor girl who loved him. You lied to her, promising that you would take care of him and love him. And then you turned around and fed him to the wolves." Nostrils flaring and angry tears threatening to fall, you added, "Did you ever even tell him that you loved him?"

“Of course, we did,” she admonished.

“Did you? Did you tell him that you were proud of him? That you loved him no matter what happened?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice even. “Every night my mom told me that she loved me and that she was proud of me. How many times did you tell Jake that, Georgia? How is a child supposed to just know that if you don’t tell them?” Shaking your head as you let out a shaky breath, you turned back to her. “And just so you know, there won’t be a day where Jake doesn’t tell our child that he loves them. Not one.”

Georgia adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pursed her lips together. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, but you didn’t give a shit about her feelings.

“Did you come here to convince me to talk Jake into speaking to you again? To buy my baby from me? A combination of the two? Does your husband know that you’re here? Is he waiting outside?”

Georgia took another moment to compose herself from your questions. She glanced down at the rings on your finger before meeting your gaze again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake selected a woman as . . . outspoken as you,” Georgia stated, adjusting her handbag again. “No, my husband does not know that I’m here. And I’m not here to buy my grandchild. I’m here to try and get through to my son and I’ve realized that the best way to do that would be through you. The woman he married and is having a child of his own with.”

Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Georgia's words.

“I have no interest in having a relationship with you because Jake doesn’t have an interest in it.”

“There’s nothing I can do to persuade you to speak with him about me?” Georgia pressed, an edge of desperation in her tone.

“No, there’s not.”

“You would deny your child a set of grandparents?”

“I will protect my child from people who hurt their father.”

Forcing yourself to take a breath, you stared down Georgia for a moment. She looked far more pathetic than you knew she was comfortable with. Apparently, she thought that she would just waltz in, and you would agree with her without any pushback.

But she couldn't have been more wrong.

“You know, when Jake told me about his upbringing, I honestly felt a bit of sympathy for you, Georgia. Maybe you were convinced that being a rich housewife to a pathetic little man was a better life than being loved by a poor man. And I’m sure that your husband hasn’t been kind to you over the years.”

The rage flashed to the surface again as she turned away from you for a moment.

“But how could you look another woman in the eye and convince her to hand over an innocent baby to a man that you knew would be a horrible father? That you knew would hurt that baby?”

After a moment, you walked past Georgia, who did not move to block your path this time. You opened the door and strode out of there and you didn't dare look back. Trying to gather yourself, you looked up to see Emma and Penny a few steps away from you.

“Are you okay? We were getting worried," Emma questioned with clear concern.

“Fine. Let’s get going to the Hard Deck,” you stated, already turning towards the parking lot.

“What happened?” Penny asked, studying your expression. You didn’t reply and just kept marching towards the parking lot until Penny rested a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to slow down. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s mom walked into the bathroom,” you explained quietly, looking over your shoulder.

“What?"

“She knew where you were?” Penny asked urgently, looking around with a protective stare. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she encouraged you forward again. “Come on, let’s get going.”

~~~~~

Maverick’s face darkened after you finished with your explanation about what happened at the mall. Grabbing his phone, he got up from the table with a serious expression.

“I’m going to make a call,” he stated firmly. “They can’t stalk you and your child. I don’t care who the hell that they think they are in Texas. That’s not going to fly out here. That’s not going to continue.”

“Who are you calling?” you asked as Maverick walked off.

“An old contact. I’ll be right back.”

Penny told you to just let Mav make the call as the remaining four of you remained seated at the table. You twisted your engagement ring around your finger nervously, sharing a look with Emma and Bradley, who sat across from you.

“She didn’t try to hurt me—”

“—Doesn’t matter,” Bradley interjected quickly. “It’s creepy and it’s over the line and it’s going to stop. Now. Just let Mav make his call. He'll handle it.”

“I know,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “Jake is going to freak out when I tell him.”

“You’re going to tell him right away?”

“I can’t hide it from him. It might take me some time to find the words, but I have to tell him.”

Penny hugged you to her side and rubbed your back with her hand, giving you the maternal support that you really needed in that moment. You sighed and leaned against her, desperately wishing that Jake would be home soon.

“Everything will be alright. We’re going to figure this out.”

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I hope that everything is running smoothly where you are. And that you read this email sooner rather than later.

Penny and Emma took me to the shops yesterday and when I was trying to leave the bathroom, I ran into your mother. She came up from Texas and she told me that she wanted to talk to me about you. Said something about using me to convince you to talk to her again. I told her that I wasn’t interested in that because you weren’t interested in that. She let me leave after that.

I don’t want to stress you out or make you feel like you have to do anything when you’re so far away, but I wanted to be honest with you. Mav’s made a few calls and he seems to think that he has a solution. Don’t stress about us, just focus on your mission and coming home safely in one piece.

We love you, Jake. And we’re safe, we’re fine. And we miss you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Folding some fresh laundry in Maverick's house a few days later, you looked up when you heard your phone buzz. An unknown number was calling you and despite your hesitation, you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Jake?” you whispered out shakily, holding a hand to your mouth. Moving to sit, you tried to calm yourself down and not just simply sob. “How are you calling me?”

“I have my ways,” Jake replied teasingly. Growing more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Jake.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. She never should have been anywhere near the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” you repeated softly. “She didn’t threaten us. If anyone was threatening anyone, it was me.”

“That’s my wife,” Jake praised, causing you to smile bashfully. “But my father wasn’t there, right? It was just my mother?”

“Yeah. She said that he didn’t know that she was there, and I didn’t see him around.”

“Good. I’ll deal with them when I get home.”

“Okay.” After a moment you asked, “How much longer do you have?”

“Less than a minute. I’m sorry, Honey, I just needed to know that the two of you were okay. They thought that I was having some kind of stroke when I read your email and I managed to convince them to let me call you.”

“At least one good thing came out of the whole shitshow,” you sighed, resting a hand on your bump. “I love—”

You froze when you felt your daughter press her foot against your hand. Jake felt his heart leap into his throat when you cut yourself off and stop talking without a clear reason.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“She’s kicking,” you whispered softly.

“What?”

“Jake, she’s kicking. Our daughter is kicking!”

“She’s kicking?”

“Yes, she’s kicking,” you laughed, before your joy dimmed and tears pooled in your eyelids. Sniffling, you croaked out, “I love you so much, Jake. We love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I miss you so fucking much, Honey. And I’m so sorry that I’m not there.”

“Hangman, time’s up,” Jake heard from behind him, causing him to look over his shoulder.

“I’ve got to go, Honey,” he replied, grinding his jaw to try and stave off the tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Bye, Jake.”

The line went dead, and you slowly placed your phone down. Holding your hand to your mouth, you finally let out your sobs. And about a thousand emotions that you'd tried keeping in ever since Jake was forced to leave you.

Your daughter was finally kicking, but her father wasn’t here to feel her. And the thought only made you sob harder.

Back on the carrier, Jake rubbed the tears that leaked from his eyes.

He missed it. He fucking missed it. He missed his daughter kicking for the first time. He wasn’t there when his mother showed up out of nowhere and accosted you in a public bathroom. He wasn’t going to be there for your baby shower.

Jake had anticipated that deploying while you were heavily pregnant was going to be difficult. But he didn’t realize that it was going to be impossible, killing him slowly from the inside out.

“Hangman?”

“I’m coming,” Jake called back, clearing his throat. “I’m coming.”

Tags (PRETTY PLEASE have your AGE on your blog or message me about it to be tagged--thank you!):

[If I missed you, don’t feel bad about asking to be tagged again! But please make sure that your age is in your bio/comment/etc. If you see your tag spelled correctly but did not receive a notification, please double check your privacy settings! Thanks!]

@mrsjobarnes @wishiwasacasualfan @bethabear12 @everythingmarveltopgun @hardballoonlove @mavrellover91 @senjoritanana @sophiaslastbraincell @xoxabs88xox @emma8895eb @dempy @harperdoodle @itsmytimetoodream @sarahjoestewy-blog @the-annoying-fan @athenabarnes @midnightmagpiemama @praline357 @sucker4seresin @sunsetsimpsblog @sgt-barnesveins @abaker74 @shanimallina87 @kellyls04 @trickphotography2 @kmc1989 @boiolay @offical-potato @topgun-imagines @caitsymichelle13 @daddymack01 @hangmandruigandmav @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @lilylilyyyyyy @lillunna @bcon24 @ashcosmo @blackwidownat2814 @specialagentjackbauer @percysaidnever @silenthappyplace @buckysteveloki-me @havlindzk @hookslove1592 @mamachasesmayhem @aviatorobsessed @marvelogic @ems-alexandra @harrysgothicbitch @shawnsblue @shiara04 @erindiggory @eloquentdreamer @tomanyfandomstrash @grxcisxhy-wp

463 notes · View notes

0cta9on · 1 month

Text

Unlikely Duet - 6

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: I could've taken another day to edit this, but I wanted to upload it asap so here it is :^) Hopefully my writing isn't too garbage and I hope y'all enjoy <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Minji’s POV

I could do nothing but pace around my room, anxiety fueling every step. Danielle was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago to drive us to the fair, but on this particular day of all days, she decides to be late. My vice president, the one who I can lean on when I’m overwhelmed with responsibilities and even more of a stickler for rules and punctuality compared to me, is late.

The brunt of my morning was spent avoiding my parents like the plague, staying cooped up in my room and eating my meals as quickly as possible. To them, it probably seems like I’m giving them the silent treatment for what they said last night (which I’m still upset about), but in reality, I was riddled with anxious thoughts and simply avoided speaking in case I accidentally let it slip that I was planning on lying to them. I’ve done it tons of times before, but every single time is nerve wracking. While I hate that it’s gotten to this point, I owe a lot of my sanity to what I’ve been able to get away with by lying. Besides, it’s probably better this way - my parents still believe that I’m their perfect daughter and I still get to have some semblance of a social life.

Like the sonorous tones of a church bell, a resounding ding emits from my phone. They’re here. With shaky hands, I grab my tote bag from my bed and carefully tiptoe down the stairs. Right as I reach the front door, my father calls out to me from the living room.

“Minji? Where are you going?” He asks, a look of curiosity on his face.

“O-oh, uhh, I guess I forgot to tell you this but I was actually planning on going to the library to study with Danielle today.” I grin at him, trying my best to sound convincing. Our eyes lock as he studies my expression for what feels like an eternity. It might just be my stress causing my eyes to play tricks on me, but there seems to be a hint of sadness in his expression, as if he doesn’t want me to go. I shake it off and refocus on the task at hand.

“Well, I better get going-”

“Wait,” he interrupts before leaving the room for a moment. He comes back with a $20 bill in his hands and offers it to me. “Here.”

Panic began to set in. Did he find out I was actually going to the fair? If he did, why would he be giving me money? Shouldn’t he be angry at me for lying to him?

“Um, what’s this for? We’re just going to the library,” I reiterate in hopes that my initial worries were wrong.

“In case you two get hungry after, you should get some snacks. Food fuels the brain.” The relief I felt after he said those words is better than any award I got in my entire academic career up to this point. Normally it would raise red flags for my father to be doing something uncharacteristic like this, but I didn’t care. I’m just glad to almost be free.

“Thanks,” I say as I take the cash. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Don’t stay out too late. Don’t be messing around while studying. And-”

I shut the door behind me before I could hear the rest of his sentence. It was probably some other generic dad advice, like “Don’t talk to strange boys at night” or something like that. The sight of Danielle’s mom’s car parked on the other side of the street was like seeing a boat heading your direction after being stranded on an island for 15 years. Hanni beckoned me from the passenger’s side window, an excited grin painted on her face.

“Hurry up girl, let’s go!!” She shouted. As I open the door to the backseat, Hyein and Haerin wave back at me.

“Hi Minji!”

“Yo.”

“Hi guys, sorry, my dad wanted to talk to me before I left,” I replied as I got in the car. “Danielle, what took you so long, I was pacing around my room for the past 20 minutes anxious out of my mind!”

“I’m sorry, there was something I had to take care of before I could take my mom’s car,” she apologizes as she tampers with the rearview mirror, clearly annoyed with its inability to swivel properly.

Hanni pops her head from the front seat. “Okay y’all, we just need to take a deep breath and calm down. We’re going to the fair to chill out and have fun, let’s not let petty things like this ruin the day before it’s even started, alright?” Haerin and Hyein nod enthusiastically, peering over at me to gauge my reaction. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in order to allow my mind to forget about the stress from my morning. Today is the day that I get to let loose and forget about all the pressures I face in my regular life. Nothing else matters but having fun. As I open my eyes again, I am welcomed by the smiling faces of my four dearest friends (Danielle was especially happy about finally fixing the rearview mirror). My lips curl into a smile as I look back at them.

“Yeah, you’re right, Hanni,” I admit. “Okay, let’s go!!” We all cheer as Danielle steps on the gas. Hanni turns up the radio, blasting a loud pop song that blares out of the windows as we cruise through the neighborhood.

______________________________________________________________

The lights, the sounds, the smells, everything about the fair was overwhelming in the best way possible. Large groups of friends and families meandered along the concrete pathways, talking and laughing as they try their hand at classic carnival games or satiate their hunger with fried food and extravagant sweets. A giant ferris wheel sat in the background, the sunlight peeking through its rotors. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I’m reminded of old family memories. Before they pressured me into trying to obtain some kind of impossible perfection, I used to be able to exist simply as their daughter, who they loved and played with like any other child.

“Hey Minji, are you okay?” Hyein asks me. I snap out of my thoughts to find the girls looking back at me with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about something,” I reassure them. “What do you guys wanna do first?”

“I don’t know Ms. President, what do you wanna do?” Hanni asks with a wide grin.

“Well, I guess we can-”

I freeze as I see a familiar face in the distance, intermingled with the crowd. Yuno is here. With the convenience store girl.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Where the hell did he run off to?” I grumble as I struggle to search for Yujin in the crowd. The fair was more overwhelming than I could’ve imagined - it was difficult navigating through the sea of strangers without accidentally rubbing elbows with them, all while trying to find oxygen through the constant stench of fried foods and sugar wafting through the air. At the very least, the lights were pretty to look at and I would be lying if I said the ferris wheel didn’t pique my interest.

Winter chuckles at my annoyance. “Relax, he’s just getting a corndog. See, he’s on his way over here right now,” she says, gesturing through a gap in the crowd. Lo and behold, Yujin skips towards us with a corndog in hand and a stupid grin on his face.

“Look what I got!” He presents his fried snack to us with the excitement of a child presenting a drawing to their parents. An ungodly amount of ketchup and mustard drips off the corndog, creating a gross glob of orange on the ground.

“Is that healthy?” Winter asks, concern laced in her voice. Her words fall on deaf ears as Yujin chomps off a large piece, covering his mouth in sauce. I chuckle in disbelief, both deeply disturbed and quietly impressed, while Winter hands him a pack of napkins from her purse.

I take the opportunity to look around at my surroundings again. As I gazed out amongst the crowd of smiling faces, I suddenly felt out of place in it all, like I wasn’t allowed to be here. Everything felt so foreign to me, I wasn’t sure if I should feel at ease or on edge. Whether it’s paranoia or just a hunch, I couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling at the back of my head.

“Hey Yuno?” Winter nudges me.

I turn my attention towards her. “What?”

“Isn’t that the student council president?”

My heart stops for a split second as I look down the other end of her finger. In the heart of the crowd is Minji, huddled around her friends. She’s wearing a simple outfit of a gray collegiate sweater and jeans, yet my eyes were naturally drawn to her like a magnet.

“Y-yeah, that’s her,” I stutter, trying to maintain composure.

“Mm, issa Danielle? Les go shay hi!” Yujin exclaims with a mouth full of food, running toward them before I could stop him.

“God dammit…”

“What’s wrong, do you not wanna say hi?” Winter asks as we follow the trail through the crowd Yujin left behind.

“It’s not that, it’s just… Whatever, let’s just go.” With every step I take, my heart rate begins to accelerate as, once again, fate pulls me towards Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

He’s coming this way!! Why is he coming this way?? Did he see me? Should I run? No, why would I run? Pull it together, Minji!! Maybe if I pretend I didn’t see him, he’ll just walk past me. Why would I do that?? Agh!!

“Ketchup… and mustard,” Haerin blurts out, drawing puzzled glances from the group. Suddenly, a boy wearing a white eyepatch emerges from the crowd, carrying a corndog smeared with red and yellow condiments.

“Danielle!!” He calls out, waving excitedly. “Hi!”

“Yujin? What are you doing here?” Danielle questions, a hint of surprise present in her voice.

“I’m with my friends!” The boy, Yujin, exclaims as Yuno and the convenience store girl appear behind him, drawing an impish grin from Hanni. I couldn’t help but feel underdressed when compared to convenience store girl’s flowery sundress and cardigan. “I didn’t expect to see you here too! This is great!”

“Uh yeah, I guess it is,” Danielle responds awkwardly before turning to us. “Um, this is Yujin, I’ve been helping him and his grandma out recently.”

“We’re friends!” He adds enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I suppose we are.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at Danielle’s uncharacteristic awkwardness. Normally, she’s the serious voice of reason that stays calm under pressure, yet here she was, looking like an embarrassed older sister flustered by the antics of her younger sibling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yujin,” I greet warmly. “I’m Minji, also a friend of Danielle’s.”

“Oh, you must be the student council president!” He replies eagerly. “These are my friends, Yuno and Winter. Yuno might look a little scary, but don’t worry, he only fights bad guys. He helped me and Winter out before! And Winter is really shy, but she’s really nice once you get to know her!”

“H-hello,” Winter stutters with a polite smile, while Yuno offers a simple nod. A flush of warmth colors my cheeks as our eyes briefly meet before we both quickly avert our gazes. Unfortunately, Hanni notices this and stifles a laugh, making my cheeks grow even warmer with embarrassment.

“Hello, I’m Hyein!” Our youngest chimes in. “This is Haerin, and that over there is Hanni! It’s nice to meet you all!”

As the group falls into casual conversation, I can’t help but peer over at Yujin’s eyepatch and be reminded of my conversation with Yuno last night. Despite his injuries, he’s chock full of energy and vibrancy that contrasts with Yuno’s usual solitary and soft-spoken demeanor. The difference in their personalities is cute in a way. Winter, on the other hand, shares many similarities with Yuno. Like him, she’s very soft-spoken and a little awkward, but has an aura of kindness around her despite that. I imagine the two of them got along well because of this - for some reason, this fact irks me.

“Since we’re all here to let loose at the fair, why don’t you guys join us? The more the merrier I always say, isn’t that right, Minj?” Hanni says, nudging my ribs with her elbow. I didn’t even have to look at her to know what kind of face she’s making.

Coincidentally, my eyes meet Yuno’s once again, and I quickly break away as I think of what to say. I would hate to butt into Yuno’s time with his friends, but a voice in the back of my head was telling me otherwise.

“Yeah, you guys can join us if you want to,” I say as I give into the voices. My lips curl into a smile, but inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Yuno appears taken aback at my answer as a slight pinkish hue grows on his cheeks. The group moves through the crowd looking for what to do first with Yujin leading the way and Yuno trailing close behind. I stay in the back, letting my complicated feelings fester.

“H-hello, Minji.” Winter’s soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to find her trailing behind the group alongside me. Her simple makeup look is subtle, yet it perfectly accentuated her natural beauty. Pair that with her cute outfit and she could have any guys she wants. A shiver went through my spine at the thought.

“What’s up?” I ask, trying my best to act natural.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing okay. I never got the chance to after what happened that night.”

My mind flashes back to when Yuno and Winter had saved me from that drunk man a couple days ago. I was too terrified and too weak to protect myself, yet this timid girl jumped in front of him to protect me. And here I am, feeling all weird because I think she looks prettier than me.

“I’m doing fine now. Thanks again for that, I owe you one,” I express.

She quickly shakes her head at my offer. “Y-you don’t have to do that. If you want, I can give you a can of pepper spray. I have a couple more of them at home.”

A chuckle escapes my lips, and Winter seems to loosen up at this. “I might have to take you up on that offer,” I say, half-jokingly. A wave of shame washes over me as I suddenly felt bad for being jealous of her. Maybe the events of this morning still have their effects on me or maybe I ate something bad earlier, but something feels off with me today and I’m not sure why.

“Guys, look over here!” Yujin shouts excitedly from the front of the group, pointing at a giant Spider-man plush sitting on a prize table for a basketball game. Two basketball hoops stood tall before him, much higher than a regular basketball hoop. “I HAVE to get this for my room!” He quickly pays the game attendant, who places three basketballs on the counter in front of him.

“Alright, the game is simple. All you have to do is make at least one basket and you get a prize,” the worker explains. Yujin takes the first ball and psyches himself up, giving the ball a couple dribbles before throwing it… And completely missing the hoop.

“Aw man,” he groans in disappointment. “Yuno, why don’t you try?”

Yuno accepts the challenge, gripping the second ball with steely determination. I watch with bated breath as the ball leaves his hands. It soars high into the sky… and completely misses the hoop. The ball shoots way over the hoop and ends up knocking a corndog out of someone’s hand. The girls and I struggle to stifle our laughter as Yuno’s cheeks turn a bright red.

“A-ah… Shit…” He curses under his breath. “M-maybe Winter should try…”

Winter steps forward, her hands shaking as she grips the final ball. We all freeze with anticipation as she shoots the ball towards the hoop. Miraculously, it arcs perfectly in the air and lands through the hoop with a satisfying swoosh. A scattered array of claps and cheers erupt from some bystanders that witnessed that moment, but none are as ecstatic as Yujin, who jumps and cheers with the excitement of a kid on his birthday.

“Congratulations, ma’am! Which prize would you like?” The worker asks her.

“T-the Spiderman p-please,” Winter stammers, accepting the toy and handing it to Yujin.

“Ahhh!!! Winter, you’re the best!!!” He screams, drawing a variety of reactions from passersby. Yuno flashes her a quick thumbs up while Hyein, Haerin, and Hanni shower her with compliments, which Winter modestly tries to brush away with a bashful smile. Meanwhile, Danielle is occupied with trying to contain Yujin’s overflowing energy.

“M-my dad really likes basketball, so he made me play w-when I was younger. I-it’s nothing really,” Winter explains. She’s kind, pretty, AND athletic? It’s almost as if God himself created the perfect person and placed them in front of me on a day I decided not to dress up. There’s no wonder I felt jealous of her. But why am I jealous of her?

“Are you okay?” Yuno asks me.

I startle slightly at his sudden appearance. “H-huh? Yeah, why?” I awkwardly chuckle. Yuno’s gentle gaze meets mine with genuine concern, momentarily distracting myself from my swirling thoughts. I found myself wanting to draw closer and get lost in his irises.

What?! Minji, what are you even thinking?! Have you gone insane?!

“You look… upset,” he admits shyly. “I just wanted t-”

Suddenly, a basketball bounces off of the other hoop and hurtles towards Winter. In a flash, Yuno turns and catches the ball right before it hits her in the face, his gentle expression replaced with a stern glare at the person who threw the ball.

“Watch it,” he growls in a calm yet menacing tone as he tosses the ball back. His face immediately softens as he turns back to Winter. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, Yuno,” she answers with an appreciative smile. I felt my heart drop from my chest as I watched their interaction, confusion and envy creating a storm in my mind.

“Sooooooo, you gonna make a move or no?” I jump as Hanni startles me from behind.

“W-what??” I sputter.

“I recognize that face anywhere. You’re jealous~.”

Heat creeps up my face as I struggle to find the words to explain myself. “Wha- I am not jealous!” I seethe, trying to keep my voice down. “I’m just… impressed by his reaction timing.”

“Mhm,” she hums, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m impressed by how close they look. Don’t you think they would make a cute couple, Minj?”

Her words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “Y-yeah, I’m sure they would,” I reply, unconvincingly. “W-whatever, like I said I’m not jealous.”

“Oh sweet, sweet Minji,” Hanni sighs, shaking her head as she pats my shoulder. She follows the rest of the group as they move on, leaving me to watch Yuno and Winter as they walk side by side. No matter how hard I try, I can't rationalize this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I see them together. I need to do something, but I don’t know why.

______________________________________________________________

We spent the next hour walking around, playing all the fair games, and filing our stomachs with an array of different snacks the fair offers. I tried to enjoy myself, but the pit in my stomach continued to grow and grow until it became unbearable. I even started to consider Hanni’s words, but no amount of inner turmoil would make me go that insane.

As the sun dipped low, casting an enchanting orange hue over the fairgrounds, it seemed like the perfect time to watch the sunset from atop the ferris wheel. As excited as I am to be able to watch the sunset, I still couldn’t get rid of this weird feeling as I watched Yuno chat with Winter and Yujin at the front of the group. Hanni seemed to notice this too.

“Girl, you look miserable,” she remarks, resting her chin on my shoulder with a sympathetic pout. “You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I-I am having fun. This is my ‘having fun’ face.” I flash her a forced grin in a feeble attempt to mask my true feelings. Hanni sighs heavily right as we reach the front of the line.

“Each cabin only fits two people, so you’ll have to split into groups of two,” the ride operator explains. Naturally, Hyein and Haerin pair up together, waving excitedly at us as they eagerly step into the first cabin.

“Yuno, do you wanna ride together?” Yujin asks him. Before he could answer, however, Hanni takes matters into her own hands and pushes Danielle into Yujin.

“Hey Yujin, did you know Danielle is really scared of heights? She needs a big strong man protecting her while she’s up there.” Danielle silently curses at her with her eyes as Hanni pushes the duo into the next cabin. My eyes go wide with panic as I suddenly catch onto her plan.

“Winter, I love your dress! Let’s chat about it on the ferris wheel!” Hanni exclaims as she grabs Winter’s hand, pulling her towards the open doors of the cabin. Right before the doors close behind them, I catch a glimpse of Hanni flashing me a thumbs up. My heart threatened to explode from my chest as I found myself left alone with Yuno.

“S-soooooo… U-um, do you wanna, um, I-I gues-”

“Let’s go,” Yuno utters as walks ahead of me into the cabin. I mentally facepalm, cringing at my sudden inability to formulate a coherent sentence. I step into the cabin and sit across from Yuno. As the doors seal shut, the space suddenly felt a lot smaller and more intimate. I gaze out at the orange glow of the sun to distract myself, both mortified and oddly blissful.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My heart kept chugging like a speeding steam train, I worried that Minji could hear it echo off the walls of the cabin. Throughout the day, I could feel her gaze lingering on me and I don’t know why. Did she wanna talk about yesterday? Was something on her mind? Was there something in my hair? Did I smell? I would’ve showered before I left the house if I knew I was gonna bump into her.

A strange feeling fills my chest as I observe the way the sunlight reflects off of her skin. The same feeling that had been haunting me for the past couple of days. Minji constantly invades my thoughts, stirring emotions I couldn’t comprehend. Everything about her felt new and strange, but I couldn’t deny that being around her made me feel happy. I drop my gaze to the floor as she turns to me, hoping she didn’t catch me staring.

“Sooo…” She began, filling the silence. “Winter seems nice.”

I tilt my head in confusion at her sudden interest in Winter. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“How’d you two meet?” She asks with an odd amount of intrigue

For the most part, Minji is an open book. I never have to guess what she’s thinking or feeling, and unlike her parents, she never seems to be hiding some ulterior motive beneath a gentle exterior - until now. At first, I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, but being the open book she is, it became clear as day that Minji was hiding something. But why? Maybe it wasn’t my place to pry, but my instincts told me otherwise.

“We have english together, but we didn’t start being… ‘friends’ until a couple days ago. She and Yujin kinda just… inserted themselves into my life. And now we’re here,” I explain. Minji’s brow furrows in response.

“Wait, you only started talking a couple days ago? I thought you two were dating.” She hurriedly clasps her hand over her mouth as if she didn’t mean to let that out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We’re not dating,” I say a little too quickly. “Just friends.”

The cabin falls silent as both of our cheeks turn a light crimson. Minji turns back to the window, and my eyes gravitate towards her face once again as if that’s where they’re meant to be. The light and the shadows dance on her skin creating a work of art right in front of me. She’s beautiful in the most impossible way, defying everything I know about the world just by existing. My heart pumps faster and faster as my mind begins to run wild, imagining the two of us together as more than friends. Going on dates and being close. Just like this. Maybe Minji wanted to know if Winter and I were dating because she’s interested in me. I quickly shot that idea down. Those kinds of thoughts only lead down a bad road.

“My parents used to take my brother and I to the fair when we were younger,” Minji says, snapping me out of my daze. “We would go around and play all the games, trying to win the prizes. The games were always rigged, so we never won any. One time, I got so upset that I couldn’t win a bear toy that I started crying. My dad ended up paying extra just so he could get me the bear.” A gentle smile graces her face as she recounts her memory.

“We would always ride the ferris wheel at the end so we could watch the sunset from the top of the ferris wheel, just like this. I was always too short, so my dad had to hoist me up so I could see through the window.” She chuckles lightly before her smile eventually fades from her lips and her gaze falls to the floor. “Sorry, being here must have made me nostalgic. It’s been awhile since I got to watch the sunset from a ferris wheel.”

“Don’t be sorry. I like hearing you talk.” My eyes grow wide with panic as I realize the implication of my words. “I-I meant I like you. I MEAN YOUR STORY!! I liked your story…” My face falls into my palms in an attempt to hide the deepening blush, and I let out a muffled “Fuck” under my breath. I can hear Minji trying to stifle her laughter, which only makes me feel worse. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself six feet under and stay there for eternity.

“I know what you mea- AHHH!!!”

I jolt my head up right as Minji jumps from her seat and into my lap. Bewilderment, accompanied by a million other emotions, runs through my mind as she wraps her arms around my head and hides her face in the crook of my neck.

“M-Minji, uhh w-what are you-”

“There’s a spider on the seat!” She exclaims, her voice tingling with fear. I maneuver my head around her and see the tiniest spider I’ve ever seen scurrying around the spot where Minji once sat. “Ahhh, I really hate spiders!!”

I try to pry her body off of me, but her grip is tighter than an anaconda. A wave of deja vu washes over me as I suddenly start to feel lightheaded.

“M-Minji… Y-you’re choking m-me…” Right before I feel like I’m about to blackout, Minji releases her grip on my neck and slides off of my lap into the space next to me. The seat is a little cramped, but it’s better than dying in such an embarrassing way.

“I-I’M SO SORRY, YUNO!!” She apologizes, her face a bright tomato red. She flinches as the spider continues to move around on the opposite seat, wincing with each movement. “I-I really, really, really, REALLY hate spiders.”

Even after she almost choked me to death, I couldn’t help but find her cute as she shields her eyes with delicate hands, her face nestled into my shoulder. A grin threatens to grow on my lips as I try to comfort her with a few gentle pats on the head.

“I used to be afraid of spiders when I was a kid,” I began in a calming tone. “Whenever I saw one, I always cried to my parents about it. One day, I found one in the bathroom, so I ran to my mom sobbing and told her to kill it. Instead of killing it, she held me in her arms and carried me to the bathroom where it was. I was just like you, hiding my face on her shoulder because I was too scared to even look at it. In a gentle voice, she told me about how it was alone and probably looking for its family. If I killed it, then its family would be sad. She told me that she would be sad if I was suddenly killed when I was out all alone. From that day on, I was never afraid of spiders. Every time I saw one, I would carry it outside so it could find its family.”

I chuckle under my breath. “I don’t think it actually works like that, but I don’t kill spiders because of her. Because of my mom.”

As I finish my story, I notice Minji’s eyes watering and her lip quivering as if she’s about to cry. “Ah shit, are you okay?” I ask with great concern.

“S-Sorry, that was just… really sweet,” she sniffles. I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile as I simultaneously fought the urge to wipe her tears away. As she calms down, we sit together in silence, watching the tiny spider walk around the cabin.

“He’s just a little guy,” Minji utters, a cute grin on her face. “I wonder why I was so scared of you before.”

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I open up the notification to see a selfie of Yujin and Danielle with the giant Spiderman plush wedged in between them. Despite Danielle’s awful personality, Yujin seems to like her, so I guess it’s alright. If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve easily mistaken them for siblings.

“Aww, that’s cute. We should send one back,” Minji suggests, her eyes lighting up.

“O-oh, uh, sure. How do I…” After a minute of hopelessly fumbling through the labyrinth of options on the screen, Minji gently takes the phone from me and opens up the camera with a simple tap.

“Do you know how to use a phone, Yuno?” She teases.

“U-uh, no…” I answer, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment. Her eyes widened with surprise at my response. “It’s my first phone, and I just got it today so I haven’t really had a chance to properly look through it.”

“O-okay, well just press on this gray square over here if you wanna open up the camera,” she explains in a kind tone, free of any judgment. She raises her arm and I can see the two of us reflected onto the screen. “Scoot a little closer so we can both be in the frame.”

With a gulp, I scoot closer to her in the already cramped space. The flowery scent of her hair wafts through my nostrils, gentle and clean. Hypnotized by the scent, I don’t realize I’m staring at her until she nudges me with her elbow.

“Look at the camera,” she reminds me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The phone camera manages to catch the redness of my cheeks as I glance back at my reflection. Minji snaps a few shots before reviewing her work.

“They came out pretty well, don’t you think?” She inquires, and I can only nod in agreement, despite my less-than-stellar appearance in the photos. Minji, on the other hand, looks as pretty as ever. Even when she’s not doing much, the camera seems to pick up on all her good sides. She fiddles with my phone for a little bit before handing it back to me.

“Here, I put my number in so you can send me the photos,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“N-not at all,” I stutter excitedly, my heart soaring in the air. Minji giggles at my elation and we share a laugh in that cramped ferris wheel cabin. In that moment, as the sunset bathes us in its warm glow, everything falls into place. The weird feelings, the incessant thoughts - they all lead to one undeniable truth. I’m in love with Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

As I step out of the cabin, I see the rest of our friends waiting for us at the front of the ferris wheel. Instinctively, I reach my hand out towards Minji as she carefully steps out, which she accepts with a small grin adorning her lips. Though the contact is brief, the memory of her delicate hand in mine etches itself into my memory.

“Soooooo, did you two have fun?” Hanni asks us with an unnerving smirk that could only mean trouble. Before I get a chance to answer however, Minji grabs her wrist and leads her away.

“I-I’m going to the bathroom, Hanni you’re coming with me!” Her voice echoes as she drags Hanni away, trailed by the rest of her friends like ducklings following their mother. Perplexed, Winter, Yujin, and I settle onto a nearby bench to rest in the shade.

“The ferris wheel was fun, I took a lot of pictures of the sunset!” Yujin shares, displaying the photos on his phone. Almost his entire gallery was full of sun from slightly varying angles, along with a few selfies with Danielle. Her gentler side she exclusively shows to Yujin is such a stark contrast from her usual coldness, it’s almost unsettling.

“I feel exhausted.” Winter slumps beside me, her head tilting to the side as if she was too tired to even hold it up. “Hanni is really nice, but I felt so drained after talking to her for five minutes. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from.” I quietly snicker to myself. That seems on brand for Hanni.

My mind wanders back to the epiphany I had earlier. “Um, can I ask you two something… odd?” Their heads perk up, looking at me expectantly. “Have you guys ever… ‘dated’ anyone before?”

“I’ve had crushes before, but I was always too scared to confess,” Yujin admits.

“What about you, Winter? Have you ever had a boyfriend?” I ask.

“Um, not exactly…” With a hint of reluctance, she retrieves her phone from her purse, revealing a polaroid tucked in her phone case - a snapshot of Winter with her arms wrapped around a girl with striking eyes and jet black hair.

Both of our jaws drop, simultaneously shocked and impressed.

“Oh shit…” I mutter before coming to my senses. She’s pretty, but not Minji pretty.

“Wow, that’s your girlfriend, Winter?!” Yujin exclaims. Winter smiles shyly as she puts her phone back in her purse.

“Y-yeah. She’s studying in Japan right now, so I don't get to see her often. I hope she visits soon; I think you guys would get along with her really well.” The look on her face as she thinks of her girlfriend reminds me of my mother’s face in old wedding photos. I don’t understand anything about love or relationships, but that face told me everything I needed to know. “Why did you want to know, Yuno?”

My cheeks suddenly turn warm. “Oh, uh… No reason.”

As if on cue, Minji and the rest of her friends return from the restroom, with Minji looking noticeably flustered and Hanni more excited than ever.

“It’s getting dark, so we were planning on heading back,” Danielle says. “Do you guys need a ride home?”

“O-oh, it’s okay, w-we were gonna take the subway home,” Winter replies.

“WAIT!” Yujin shouts suddenly before turning to her. “Winter, can we ride with them? Pleaseeeeee?” He grabs her sleeve and looks up at her with pleading eyes.

“I-I guess if it’s okay with them.” “WOOHOO!” Yujin cheers. “I call shotgun!” He dashes toward the parking lot, his Spiderman plush bobbing in his arms.

“Hey, that’s my seat!” Hanni exclaims, running after him. In the midst of commotion, I sneak over to Minji.

“H-hi,” I stutter, brimming with nervous excitement.

“H-hey.” Even with the sun completely set, her smile manages to illuminate everything around us. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the air felt different compared to the times we’ve talked before. That strange yet euphoric feeling still lingers in my chest, this time I finally know what that feeling is - I think. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s the fumes of fried food decaying my brain. The only thing I know for sure is that I like being around Minji.

“Are you two going to come with us or no?” Hyein calls out to us while Haerin glares suspiciously in our direction. Flustered, we walk side by side towards the parking lot, following distantly behind the rest of the group. The scattered murmurs of the crowd begin to fade behind us, the chirping of crickets and the subtle crunching of rocks underneath our feet taking their place. An ombre of growing indigo looks down at us from a cloudless sky, dotted with specks of starlight thousands of lightyears away. Despite their distance, they shine brightly against the night sky, almost as bright as the girl walking next to me.

“Yuno,” Minji voice breaks through my daydreams, pulling me back to the present. “You’re staring.”

“Ah… Sorry…” I turn my head away to hide the heat creeping up my face, prompting a soft giggle from her.

“You know, you’re not what I expected at all.”

Curious, I turn my gaze back towards her. “What do you mean?”

Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks about her response, and I bite my lower lip to stifle my smile at her cute expression. “Ever since sophomore year, I’ve always heard whispers about this scary guy that goes around fighting people. I never believed it because I thought it was too cliche to be true,” she begins, shooting me a playful glance I scratch the back of my head, suddenly feeling sheepish.

“That is, until two years later, when I come face to face with the ‘scary guy’, all bloody and bruised from a fight that happened two seconds ago. When I first met you, I thought you were some jerk who liked hurting others for the fun of it. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” Minji looks up at me, eyes full of remorse. I’ve seen others use this look on the people I’ve hurt, but never on me. To be on the receiving end of it felt disconcerting.

“You don’t have to apolog-”

“You’re kind and caring and you never hesitate to stand up for what’s right even when no one else will. While I don’t agree with your methods, I think the reason why you fight is very admirable, and if people just stopped being scared of you for two seconds, they could see how cute of a person you are.” Her hand shoots up to her mouth while her eyes go wide with panic.

Did I hear her right? Did she just call me… cute??

“I MEANT GOOD!!” She exclaims, correcting herself. “I meant to say you’re a good person…” We stand there, turned away from each other, too embarrassed to fill the growing silence. The chorus of crickets is quickly drowned out by my heartbeat echoing in my ears. My entire body feels both uncomfortably warm and freezing cold at the same time. The sudden honk of a car horn makes us both jump.

“What are you two still doing? Let’s go!” I turn to see Hanni yell at us from the back seat of an SUV. It seems that Yujin got to the front seat first. Minji and I both trudge towards the car, too embarrassed to even look at each other. Hanni steps out of the car and reclines the seat forward to let us get into the back, where Winter is sitting alone with two empty seats on either side of her.

As we settle in the back seat, I immediately shut my eyes, hoping that falling asleep would make things better. One final thing stays in my mind as I slip into unconsciousness.

She thinks I’m cute.

______________________________________________________________

A gentle shake rouses me from my slumber.

“Yuno, we’re here,” I hear Winter say as my eyes slowly open, finding my bearings. Outside the window, I see the convenience store where Winter works at.

“Winter said you guys live around here, so I hope you don’t mind,” Danielle explains from the front seat. Minji and Hanni step out of the car, allowing for Winter and I to exit.

“See you guys around,” Hanni says, waving goodbye. My eyes meet Minji’s momentarily before we swiftly break away. Not even a second of eye contact and I can already feel my body temperature rising.

“Thanks for the ride! Byeeeeee!” Yujin exclaims as the car disappears down the street. The three of us say our goodbyes to each other before we go our separate ways.

A flurry of emotions fills my stomach as I look back on the oddly eventful day. What started as an excuse to get out of the house turned into my first time at the fair, with Minji no less. I couldn’t help but feel like I’m in some surreal dream and that I’ll wake up one day to find out that none of this ever happened. As odd as all of this feels, I have to admit that I did enjoy it. The ferris wheel especially was… fun.

As I enter my house, I see my dad sitting on the couch, watching some sitcom on the TV. Right. I completely forgot he’s “different” now.

“Hey, Yuno,” he greets, a bright smile on his face. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve seen his smile. “Did you eat? There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. I tried to cook dinner, but it didn’t turn out right.” A hearty chuckle leaves his lips, a sound that I vaguely remember hearing years ago.

“I’m good. Thanks,” I say as I head towards the stairs. As my foot lands on the first step, a sudden impulse arises within me. “Uh, dad?”

“Hm?” His eyebrows perk up as he looks at me expectantly. I had no idea what I was planning on saying to him. Should I tell him about my day? Should I apologize? Should I tell him about my… “crush”? Is that what that is?

“Uh… Nevermind.” I hurry up the stairs, deciding against saying anything. My head was already filled to the brim with confusing emotions, I didn’t need to add more to the pile. I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of today playing in my mind like a broken record. I pull my phone out, fidgeting with the shiny piece of metal in my hand. Minji put her number in my phone. I can talk to her whenever I wanted to. And I do want to. My thumbs freeze right above the keyboard as I figure out what to say to her.

Maybe I should keep it simple with “Hey”. No, that’s too boring. How about “How are you feeling?” What am I, her doctor? Uhhh, maybe “I had fun today.” That’s stupid. Come on, think, Yuno, think. Fuck, I’m shit at this.

Is this what having a crush feels like? This sucks.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

“AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream into my pillow, hoping I don’t accidentally alert my parents to my “Teenage Angst”.

Minji!!! Why did you call him cute!? I mean, you’re not wrong, the way he got all embarrassed after missing the basketball hoop was kinda cut- WHAT!? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN THINKING RIGHT NOW!? ARGHHHHHH!!!

I hold onto my bear toy for comfort as I wrestle with the conflicting emotions in my head. Maybe this is just a result of all the stress from prom preparation clouding my judgement and sending me into a whirlwind of confusion. A day that was supposed to be full of leisure and enjoyment was instead full of jealousy and confusion. It wasn’t entirely bad though; riding the ferris wheel with Yuno was… nice. I feel my heart flutter in my chest as I recall that memory. Surely, Hanni’s teasing couldn’t be right… could it? Am I… in love with Yuno Lin?

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

261 notes · View notes

i-am-baechu · 6 days

Text

Summary: Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Y/N and Jungkook love each other but when familiar and new faces come into their lives, things get complicated. On top of that, a surprise that truly shakes their plans for the future. Will their relationship push forward or will Jungkook lose his fangirl once and for all?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Thirty: The World Of Being An Idol

→ Genre: Idol au, established relationships, girl group stan au, social media au, K-pop fan page au, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader

→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC & Jin x OC

→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

Y/N stared at her phone and sighed. She tossed it on the bed as she sat on the edge with a worried face. Today was the interview and she knew it needed to be done but now that the day has come, it's scary. The whole world knows about her and they keep asking about her. She saw the tweets that were accusing her of using Jungkook to meet the girl groups she loved and how she wasn’t in love with him. She knows the truth and that's all that matters but it still made her feel so small. Jungkook opened the door and frowned when he saw her looking at the floor with a blank expression. He slowly walked up to her and sat next to her. She looked up and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay, babe?”

“I’m not sure. I think I’m just nervous....I saw what people were saying about me.”

He glanced at her phone and then back at her, “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know about us.”

“I know...it just hurts.”

“Ignore them. I know it's easier said than done but I’ll be here for you.”

She looked up at him and nodded his head, “Do you think they will accept me?”

“The real fans will. I love you and only you. If they support me then they will love you. If not for you, I wouldn’t sing and if not for you, I would be in hell. You’re my ending and my beginning. My wife. We will get through this together, no matter what.”

He pushed some hair away from her forehead as she let a tear escape, “I love you, Jeongguk.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let’s go before it gets darker.”

“Okay.”

She stood up and glanced at the mirror with a worried look. She looked at Jungkook with a frown, “Is this okay?” She was wearing a simple black dress that showed off her shoulder and around her neck was the necklace that Jungkook gifted her for Christmas. She looked beautiful in his eyes.

Of course, he was matching her and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “You look perfect.”

“Do I?”

“Always.”

The car ride there happened so fast that Y/N couldn’t even process anything. She didn’t even realize she was at Bighit’s building until Jungkook rubbed her thigh, “Babe, we're here.”

She looked away from the window and nodded her head, “Okay...we’re not doing pictures right? Like no photoshoot?”

“No, photoshoot. It’s just going to be us talking. It’s going to be a video but it's not going to show your face and in the magazine we have. That’s it.”

“Is my face going to blur out?”

“It’s just going to be our voices like how you wanted. Don’t worry I made sure they followed your requests. No surprises.”

She nodded her head and leaned forward placing a quick kiss on his lips, “Okay, thank you for everything.”

“Anything for you babe.”

The hallways were quiet and the only sound that was heard was their shoes echoing. She held onto Jungkook’s arm tight as they made their way. They stood in front of the door and he glanced down at her, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah...are you? You're going to get asked so many questions now because of me.”

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “I’m okay with that. I can talk about my wife to the whole world.”

“Are you going to tell them that-”

“Yeah, I'm not hiding anymore.”

The door opened and one of the Bighit staff smiled at them, “Are you guys ready?”

“Yes.” They both answered at the same time causing them to look at each other with a smile. They walked into the room and her nerves disappeared when she saw the room semi empty. It made her feel better. They sat down as Jungkook placed his hand on top of hers, rubbing her knuckles gently.

The interviewer smiled at them as he settled in, “Hello, my name is Park Minho and I will be doing this interview. Thank you for trusting me to do this interview.”

Jungkook smiled at him and nodded his head, “Thank you for coming.”

Y/N smiled and looked down at the table, “Thank you for taking the time out to do this.”

Minho smiled at them and took out the equipment. She placed the headphones on her ears as she looked at Jungkook who was giving her an encouraging smile. Minho opened his notebook and rubbed his hands together, “Alright, my name is Park Minho and I’m happy to say I am interviewing Jungkook and Y/N. Y/N, this is your first time coming forward and I’m sure it was scary for you. How is everything settling in?”

She swallowed some spit and moved forward to the microphone, “I-It was nerve-wracking. I’m just a normal person and there’s nothing really special about me.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and leaned forward, “She’s extraordinary.”

“Jungkook...stop.”

Minho let out a small laugh, “You guys have been together for a couple of years now. How would you explain your love story?”

Jungkook glanced at Y/N with a soft smile, “Fate. Meeting her changed my life and I’m so faithful that I met her. She’s the greatest thing that has happened to me.”

Y/N felt her face get hot and she nodded her head, “I would say fate too. Honestly, it was meant to be because I got his photocard...I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“No one introduced you two? You guys just met by accident?”

“Yeah, I was shocked when I met him. I was extremely shy and I kept to myself. He actually came up to me.”

Jungkook let out a laugh and nodded his head, “I was curious about her. She was so shy that I had to try to talk to her. Even if she pushed me away, I wanted to try at least.”

“You were determined, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was. I heard bells the moment I saw her.”

“Kook, stop.”

Minho turned the page and glanced at Y/N, “In your note that you posted, you mentioned that you've been through a roller coaster. If you're comfortable enough, can you touch on that?”

She nodded her head and looked over at Jungkook who gave her a small smile. She glanced at Minho with a frown, “I saw the rumors on Twitter. It actually made me sick because some of the things were true and it was scary to see that someone knew it that wasn’t in my inner circle. On top of the rumors, I was getting stalked and harassed in my real life. It was too much and...I had to go back to my mom in America. I never felt so...scared.”

“I would be scared if someone knew things about me. I’m sorry you went through that. Is this the main reason why you wanted to come forward?”

“Yes...I had to be one step ahead of them somehow. I also wanted everyone to know that I love Jungkook with all my heart and I’m not hiding anymore...well hiding my face because I’m not ready for my face to be known. Still nervous about people.”

Minho nodded his head and glanced at Jungkook, “I saw that you posted on Weverse about everything. Did you feel good to post about it?”

“It felt good to let everyone know that I won’t stay quiet on this matter. When it comes to Y/N’s safety, I will do anything. It was a big moment for us.”

“I saw that you kept talking about your future. What are your plans for the future?”

The couple glanced at each other and Y/N nodded her head. Jungkook turned towards Minho with a wide grin, “Y/N, is my fiance. We’re planning on getting married.”

“Oh wow!? Congrats! Is this the first time you're announcing it?”

Y/N glanced down at her ring and nodded her head, “Yeah...it’s kind of crazy to do it where the whole world can know it. It felt nice to be so open now.”

The rest of the interview was really easy and it felt second nature for the couple. When everything was done, Y/N was mentally tired. Jungkook smiled down at her, who was leaning her head against his arm. They were on the roof of the building wanting fresh air before heading home. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling okay. It feels weird to have everyone know that I’m your fiance.”

“They need to know. I’m so proud of you.”

She glanced up at him and smiled, “I couldn’t do without your strength.”

“Can I take a picture?”

She raised her eyebrow, “For what?”

“I just wanted to show us off and after that interview, I want to show everyone my love for you.”

She rolled her eyes, “They’re going to be sick at the way you talk.”

“I love you and I don’t care. Just one picture.”

“Fine. After that, can we go home? I miss Bam.”

Jungkook set his phone up and glanced at her with a small glare, “Your fiance is right here but you miss him?”

“I miss our son...I also want cuddles with soba.”

“Whatever my wife wants. Now picture.”

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Tag List:

@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfction #bts fic #bts social media au #his fan girl

54 notes · View notes

lostfirefly · 24 days

Text

I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me

I dedicate this fic to everyone! But this is also my little gift to my manager @gingernut1314 :) She reblogs every chapter of my story with Buggy and OC and supports my crazy ideas in writing fanfiction! English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and Fem.Reader (also fits for GN reader) - Masterlist is here.

Description: You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff!

WC: 1619

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “All of Me” by Ashes Remain.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You hardly saw Buggy for several days. About the fact that he generally appears in your shared cabin, you understood when in the middle of the night his tired body fell onto the bed, the mattress sagged under his weight, and you instantly rolled into his arms. In the morning, you woke up, but saw only an empty bed and his scattered things.

“Someday he’ll learn to put his socks away,” you mumbled, standing in your pajamas in the middle of your shared bedroom, looking around the floor. “At least it’s clear that he was here.” You chuckled, picking up your socks and tossing them on the chair.

You went into the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee and sat down at the table. Suddenly, Mohji rushed into the kitchen to get a basket of apples for Richie.

“Hey, Mohji! Stop!” You called out to him. He stopped abruptly, and several apples fell out of the basket.

“Yes, Y/N.” He asked, picking up apples from the floor.

“Have you seen Buggy today? I’ve hardly seen him for four days. I understand he’s busy with his captain’s things, but I don’t even see him in the kitchen. Or hanging upside down somewhere in the mast area.” You giggled, imagining this picture, and took a sip of coffee.

Mohji, finally collected all the apples, tightly clutching the basket, came up to you. “I didn't see him.” He winked.

"What was that?" You asked, narrowing one eye. "You winked. Do you know where he is? Have you seen him?"

“I didn't wink. And I don't know where he is.” He winked again.

“There! You did it again! Do you know where he is? Tell me. I won't tell him it was you. I just.. I don't know. I miss him.” You became sad and began to twirl the cup in your hands.

From the moment you fell in love with Captain Buggy and stayed with him on the ship, you and Mohji became very close friends and sometimes spent time chatting. You told him how to communicate with girls, he helped you make friends with Richie.

“Sorry, Y/N, I don’t know where he is.” He winked again.

“Oh, go to hell! I hope Richie eats you this morning.” You waved your hand at Mohji.

But still? Where's Buggy? Maybe while you're waiting for him, he's hugging one of the girls on his team right now. No, no. He can't do that. You decided to wait for him tonight at all costs.

In the evening, while the team was having dinner, Captain Buggy did not appear again. You were about to open a bottle of wine, but suddenly grabbed it in your hands and walked along the deck.

“Fuck this! I’ll find him and tell him everything.” You muttered under your breath. As you walked past his office cabin, you noticed Buggy's shadow. “Gotcha!” You looked out the small window. You raised your hand to knock, but Mohji stopped you.

“You can't go there!” He said in a half whisper.

“Why?” You asked in surprise. “Does he have someone there? God, does he have someone there?” You felt like your head was spinning

“Don’t talk nonsense, Y/N, since you appeared in his life, he has no one. And you know it very well!” He hissed at you.

“What's all the noise here?” A deep voice was heard next to your ear. You and Mohji slowly turned your heads. Buggy's head was sticking out from behind the slightly open door.

“I.. I’m sorry, Captain! It’s Y/N’s fault!” Mohji lowered his head in shame and pointed his finger at you.

“Bastard!” You muttered through your teeth.

Buggy left the cabinet and closed the door behind him. “Get out!!” He barked at Mohji and he quickly disappeared.

“Well, Y/N.” Buggy crossed his arms. “What's all the commotion? Is someone attacking us?” He asked rather dryly.

“What? No! I just.. Just. I haven’t seen you for several days. I miss you. See, I even brought wine with me. Let's consider this an apology gift.” You raised the bottle higher and smiled.

“You could have waited another hour and not started a race all over the ship.” Buggy smiled back, cracked the door to the cabin, looked in and closed it again. “Alright, okay. What difference does it make... Everything is ready. Close your eyes.”

You looked at him with round eyes. “What?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, my marshmallow, close your eyes. Is that too much to ask?” He growled.

“OK.” You shrugged and closed your eyes.

“And so that you don't peep.” Buggy stood up behind you and covered your eyes with his palm. “Let's go. Carefully. Step one. Step two. Step one. Step two. See, we're almost dancing.”

“Yeah, but where are we dancing? You'll feed me to the sharks for my curiosity, right?” You put your hand on his hand.

“What? Of course not! If I feed you to the sharks, who will I warm at night?” Buggy carefully led you somewhere and removed his hand from your eyes. “Now, my marshmallow, you can open your eyes!”

You opened one eye, then the other. “What is this?”

In the middle of the cabin, in the twilight, there was a round table covered with a red and white striped tablecloth. Candles, wine, snacks and two chairs.

“This? This's the table.” Buggy answered calmly and shrugged, not understanding your question.

“I understand that this is the table, Buggy. But that’s all. What's this?” You pointed your finger at snacks and wine.

“Oh! I was preparing a surprise for you. For several days in a row, I sent someone from the crew to the nearest island to buy all the ingredients for your favorite dishes, and then made Cabaji cook it all.” Buggy put his hand on your back and gently walked you to the chair. “Sit down.” He pulled out the chair and helped you sit down.

“Really? Did you make Cabaji cook?” You started laughing, placing the bottle of wine on the table.

“I’m the captain of this ship, Y/N. I can force whoever I want to cook. I walk where I want, I order what I want. And now I order you to enjoy the evening.” Buggy took the wine you brought and easily opened the bottle, pouring the drink into your glass. “We drink to you, my marshmallow!”

“To me?” You were surprised, making yourself more comfortable in your chair. “Why?”

He blushed under all his clown makeup. “Well... You came into my life by chance…”

“Yeah, crashing into you with a bike was weird.” You took a sip of wine and crossed your legs.

“Hey! Not only did you crash, you also wanted to steal my money! No one dares steal from Buggy the Clown.”

“I wasn’t trying to steal. My hand just slipped under your coat, Buggy.” You shrugged one shoulder and narrowed your eyes.

“Liar!” He put some snacks for you. “So. I'm glad you came into my life.” Buggy blushed with every word he uttered and was already becoming like a beetroot.

You finished your wine and set the empty glass on the table, Buggy moved it toward you to refill it. “So, Captain. You cooked all this for me? Why didn't you just say so? I was honestly starting to think that you were... Well, uh... Cheated on me with someone.”

He froze and spilled wine on the tablecloth. “What?” He asked in surprise. “What did you think?”

“Buggy, the table! You spilled the wine.” You grabbed the napkins and quickly wiped up the drink residue.

“Fuck the table and fuck the wine. How could you even think that?” He froze with the bottle in his hand.

“I don't know. I'm with your team and on your ship not too long ago. How long? A month? So I was wondering.... I'm sorry.” You started running your finger across the table.

"A month and four days." He muttered quietly.

"What? Are you counting?" You asked in surprise.

“No. My memory's good.” Buggy blushed even more under his makeup and set the bottle on the table. “But Y/N, my marshmallow.” He took your hand and pulled you into his lap. “You have nothing to worry about.”

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. Buggy immediately put his arms around your waist.

“I actually...this whole dinner thing. Well. I did. To say. Well. I love you.” He looked into your eyes.

You froze for a second, feeling a slight chill run through your entire body. “You what?” You asked, starting to stroke his bandana.

“Damn. It's early, right? I said it too soon. I knew it. That's it, forget it. I don't love you. I was joking. I'm the clown. Clowns always make jokes.” Buggy became nervous.

“What? No!” You kissed his red nose. “I just didn't expect that I wasn't the only one. You know… Who has feelings.” You said, looking intently into his green eyes.

He looked at you blankly.

“For those who don’t understand, Buggy the Clown. I love you too. Since I saw you for the first time. A fucking pot-bellied naked kid named Cupid hit my heart with a blue arrow.” You giggled and took his bandana off. “Here, it’s much better with your hair down.”

“So, we both love each other, right?” He asked, looking into your eyes and stroking your arm.

“Well, it turns out like this.” You shrugged and slowly brought your lips closer to his.

“Say it again.” He whispered against your lips.

You smashed your lips to his the moment he stopped talking. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” You kissed him again.

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

57 notes · View notes

dominomars · 9 months

Text

Let’s address this issue…

Hey wassup I’m back, after deleting two posts because apparently my account is only used for “helluva boss shitting” I guess…

But I want to say something that really makes me a little concerned… about Viviziepop’s character designs.

Ok, lemme just say this… I don’t think Viviziepop is a good character designer AT ALL. Her main problem for me is not the colors, not the pencil thin bodies, but the fashion the character was born in, that’s right the FUCKING fashion.

Vivzie pop has a problem with designing characters that don’t look like exactly how she describes them, for example. Beelzebub, Beelzebub looks NOTHING like the actual Beelzebub, but I’m not talking about her today..

I’m going to be talking about Mimzy, a background character/non-speaking cameo that was shown in Hazbin Hotel.

(Just in case nobody knows her, here)

So, you’re probably saying, “Domino what are you saying? What are you tying to prove here?” So imma get straight to the point.

Listen, I don’t want to be a historical nerd here but this needs to be said, Mimzy is not an accurate flapper, instead, she is very stereotypical.

Don’t get me wrong, her design is very beautiful, and I’m so glad that we have a plus sized character from Viv. But her fashion is absolutely bullshit.

And it literally says in the wiki that she’s born in the 1920s, like I’m sorry but nothing about her will be real in the 1920s??? She’s literally a stereotype, she looks like those girls that have no fucking idea what they’re doing and buys a “flapper girl 1920s by spirit Halloween” costume, and then puts it on and calls it a day, like VIV PLEASE.

Alright, let’s get to the part where I critique her, as a vintage fan or 1920s fan, this is what I’m going to say nicely to her, and to educate other people who might be interested on what REAL flappers look like back in the day.

Flappers wouldn’t usually show much skin, the rule was that the shirt had to go down to where you can’t see the knees, shoulders were not shown that much and flappers didn’t wear as much accessories as Mimzy is wearing (necklace, feather hat, long gloves).

Flappers had very saggy loosely dresses, THAT was there fashion style, they liked to look like a potato bag, but what I usually see is that the stereotypical ones are very tight? Going along with Mimzy? Like girl, they did not wear those things they would not accept you if you wore that.

I also notice that Mimzy’s boobs are shown due to the tight inaccurate dress she is wearing, typically flappers didn’t show their boobs like that, since their dresses were very loose, nuh uh honey, flappers would use these bras to lower their breast size, kinda like a binder!

And tbh, I’ve never seen an irl flapper picture that had a feather hat thingy on their head, I can’t exactly explain if that’s accurate or not but hey! If ya know, tell me.

So my conclusion comes here…

Vivzie, if you want to make a character look like the period they were born/died in, please do it correctly, please look up references or talk to a vintage lover DO. SOMETHING. But please, don’t just look at one pic on google and say “oh uuuuhhh that’s so accurate! So imma uhhh add it on!” Because that’s not exactly how it works.

Hazbin Hotel fans, Mimzy is not an accurate description of what a flapper woman is, please check yourself before you go make a flapper Hazbin oc.

Still confused? Here are some amazing photos that I found!

Yes!!! ✅

Hell nah!! ❌

If guys have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask! And if you’re interested in a Mimzy redesign, I’ll be gladly to do it XD

This was just a critique to Vivzie! No hate to her of course! I really hope we see her get a redesign that she deserves.

(I do have a problem with Alastor’s design too LOL)

#helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel mimzy #mimzy #hazbin hotel #critique #hazbin hotel critique #flapper #1920s fashion #1920s aesthetic

110 notes · View notes

the-travelling-witch · 8 months

Text

𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐒

summary: being thrown into the devildom unexpectedly can pose all kind of challenges for a human, from cultural differences to practical ones like an empty closet; luckily, asmo knows a demon who can help solve that last problem

pairing: dantalion (my oc) x gn! reader

warnings: insecurities (reader) but with a lot of comfort

obey me! masterlist || dantalion masterlist

You were not quite sure who thought it’d be a brilliant idea to basically kidnap a human for an exchange programme supposed to unite the three realms or who signed off on it but the fact of the matter was, you were here now. Whether anyone could have thought about a more harmonious and less overwhelming introduction would remain a discussion for another day.

In any case, what would have been rather helpful, no matter how you looked at the situation, would have been a note letting you know to pack accordingly. As it was, you were standing in an entirely new realm without so much more than the clothes on your back, let alone any form of skin, hair and other hygiene products.

You were as grateful as you could be for the RAD uniform you were provided with, which would be a lot easier if it at least fit you a little better. The next morning at breakfast, none of the brothers could pretend it was the right size for you and something had to be done for the sake of Diavolo’s exchange programme.

“Mammon, take the human to Majolish after classes today and have their uniform altered,” Lucifer said without looking up from his newspaper, his voice leaving little room for disagreement.

Yet, the Avatar of Greed still managed to find it. “Do I have ta? There’s a shadow horse race in the afternoon.”

“I volunteer!” An excited voice chimed into the conversation and you looked over to see Asmodeus basically glowing with anticipation. “But maybe I deserve some kind of reward for taking care of the human when it’s not my job.”

“Fine,” Lucifer pinched the space between his brows with an exasperated sigh, “I’ll cover some of your inevitable expenses.”

“You’re the best, Luci~”

And with that you found yourself waiting for Asmo at the front gate of RAD where Mammon had unceremoniously dropped you off. As nervous as you were to go to the establishment the Avatar of Lust had been raving about all day, you were looking forward to not keeping your head down in the hallways after this day. Being an exchange student made you interesting enough, being an exchange student with ill-fitted clothes made you the talk in the hallways.

“Don’t look so glum, hon, you’ll spoil the fun of shopping,” Asmo greeted you before immediately dragging you along in the direction of the shopping district.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you tried not to trip over your own feet in an effort to keep up with him. He had quite the power-walk when there was something he wanted, it seemed. “I just can’t help but be a little nervous when you talk about someone else so favourably.”

“Who? Oh, Talion, you mean?” He giggled, clearly amused you’d stress over something like this. “Don’t worry, he’s an absolute sweetheart, even to demons who aren’t exactly me. You’ll be fine.”

As comforting -for lack of a better word- as his words were, you started to doubt them when you stood in front of a store looking like it wasn’t just leagues but realms out of both your price and social class. There wasn’t a single speck of dirt on the crystalline glass windows sporting the gold-foiled lettering of the Majolish brand.

There was little time for you to reconsider your decision to come here though as your shopping buddy was already breezing through the doors of the shop. If you thought the outside of Majolish was impressive, the inside had you actively reminding yourself to breathe. Confronted with mirror-smooth black marble floors and pristine white walls, you almost didn’t dare look up.

Yet, what would normally be a set up for a cold room, the atmosphere was lightened by the colourful plants and golden accents distributed around the room. And that didn’t even take into consideration the clothes lining the walls or the jewellery displayed. Just who was the demon running a store this lavish?

“Talion!” Asmo sing-songed without a care. “It’s me!”

“Ah Asmo, what a pleasant surprise,” a melodic voice sounded from the top of the stairs. Following it with your eyes, your jaw almost dropped onto the polished floors. For the first time since coming to the Devildom, you questioned Asmo’s claims of being the most beautiful demon around.

The stranger was tall and slender with legs for days and hair so silky he might as well have been an elven prince walking straight out of a human fantasy novel. As he floated down the stairs, you got to appreciate the way his dark blue dress pants and white dress shirt accentuated his waist.

The attention-grabber of his outfit would have to be the coat he had thrown over his shoulders. Somehow, the bright turquoise and vibrant green of the coat worked well together and complimented the hairpin he had used to secure half of his ivory blond hair at the back of his head. With every click of his heels on the stairs, the jingling of his golden jewellery echoed through the room, but rather than annoying it was entrancing. You weren’t sure if many others could pull off a look like that and look so sinfully handsome while doing it.

Most intriguing despite all of this, however, were the bright eyes mustering you from behind round, blue-stained glasses. You couldn’t quite tell which colour they really were but they were beautiful nonetheless. Then, the demon turned his attention to your companion as he came to a halt in front of you.

“Well then, my friend, to what do I owe the honour?” A pleasant smile played around his lips before casting his glance in your direction again. “Though I can make an educated guess already.”

Your face heated up at the probable implication that you were so shabby it needed his immediate help. Granted, you were no demon and you had no access to any of your usual care products or makeup, but was it really that bad?

“Mh yes, can you alter their uniform for a better fit? Nobody knew their size before the exchange programme started,” Asmo sighed. “So, gracious as I am, I took it upon myself to bring them here.”

“Without any ulterior motive, of course,” the man chuckled. “Since you are oh so gracious, would perhaps also do us the honour of introducing us?”

“Oh right,” Asmo said, clearly having skipped over this courtesy already in his mind. He courtly introduced you before gesturing at his friend. “And this is Dantalion, the owner of Majolish.”

Why were you not surprised Asmo personally knew the owner of a fashion store?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, truly. May I?” Turning to you with his full attention this time, you needed a second to understand what he was getting at, before you noticed his manicured hand hovering over your shoulder. At your consent, pristine nails picked at your uniform. “Oh dear, what a crime. I should have an earnest word with Diavolo about how he treats his exchange students. Perhaps you should sue him.”

“I’m not sure if I should sue the Prince of the Devildom on my second day here,” you laughed nervously.

“It would make you super famous I bet,” Asmo chimed in, already surveying the clothing hangers around him.

“A strong point against doing that, then,” you deadpanned. “I’ll bring it to his attention but for now I just want a uniform that fits.”

“Understandably so. How could you feel comfortable when you’re not even properly dressed?” In the faintest of touches, his slender fingers rested against your upper back as he steered you up the stairs and to the back of the store. “Asmo, make yourself at home, though I doubt you need the encouragement. I will take care of this little gem in the meantime.”

You didn’t quite catch your housemate’s response, too busy determining if you misheard or if the tint of his glasses obscured his vision. Before you could reach a conclusion, Dantalion had already led you to stand on a circular, elevated platform far away from the bustle of customers browsing the store. Perhaps you should feel at least a little twinge of uneasiness, being alone with a demon you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel an ounce of malintent coming from him. Plus, Asmo seemed to deem it safe, so you could blame it on him if something happened.

“Now, I must ask you to take off your blazer, so I can take your measurements. Don’t worry, I won’t ask any more of you.” He waited patiently for you to shrug off your jacket and hand it to him, before neatly folding it and placing it on a table. “Please lift your arms… Just like that, perfect.”

The next minutes were a blur of a measuring tape wizzing around you without any of Dantalion’s physical help while a turquoise quill hovered in front of you, scribbling down measurements you presumed. The demon merely surveyed the scene and the notes from behind his shades. Then, the flurry stopped and all utensils neatly tucked themselves away.

“There you go, all done,” Dantalion smiled at you as he extended a hand to help you off the pedestal. “Now that the boring formalia is done, we can go over to the fun part.”

“The fun part?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I only came here to get my uniform altered.”

“Darling, based on what I’ve seen so far, I’d venture a guess to say your wardrobe isn’t exactly bursting with clothes, is it? Plus, I’d assume you’d feel more comfortable with a change of clothes while I fix the ones you’re currently wearing,” he said, his calming voice surrounding you as he let you down another hall. You hadn’t even thought about that. “Besides, it’d be a first if Asmodeus was done already.

“Now, then…” Dantalion pushed up his shades as he looked at you, tilting his head to the side and bringing a hand to his chin in contemplation. With a clear view of his eyes, you understood why you couldn’t place their colour earlier. It was like looking into an iridescent kaleidoscope, changing colour as he turned his head. “Ah I see, I think I have the perfect idea.”

That was how you found yourself in a changing room, a multitude of clothes folded on the chair and hanging from the fixtures, all coordinated into their own outfits already. Dantalion implored you to take your time and tell him immediately if something wasn’t to your liking.

Picking the first outfit, you quickly slipped on the different pieces only to be surprised that not only the size was on point but also the colour and fabric were to your liking. How he knew to pick a style you had always wanted to try but felt was a bit too out of your comfort zone was beyond you, but you couldn’t help but feel excited rather than intimidated by his choice.

When you exited the changing room, Dantalion took your crumpled uniform from you before studying his work. Skilled hands smoothed out any wrinkles that might have appeared and masterfully tucked your clothes to sit just right.

“That’s much better, isn’t it? It’s amazing how much the right clothes can help in bringing out one’s natural beauty.” Dantalion reached for a box on the desk next to him, where a wide range of jewellery and accessories were arranged. “I believe the human world has a saying that goes as follows: ‘Clothes make the man’. I am inclined to agree even if not fully.”

“Well, even the nicest clothes can’t turn someone into a diamond,” you let slip before screwing your mouth shut. Perhaps it was the nerves from the new environment or how comfortable you felt around Dantalion but you really didn’t think now was the time for a pity party. “Sorry, I— The clothes you chose really are beautiful but it’s still me who’s wearing them.”

“Yes, it’s true that not everyone is diamond.” With a finger under your chin, he gracefully lifted your head to meet his mesmerising eyes. There was no mockery in them, instead they softened around the edges as his voice enveloped you like a gentle breeze. “But gems are hardly the only beautiful thing around.

“The shine of a diamond cannot be compared to the softness of silk, the luminosity of a star or the sweet melody of a song.” Even as his hand left your skin, you didn’t find the strength to pull away from his gaze. “A diamond hardens under pressure but a flower requires loving care and gentle treatment to thrive or it will wilt. Similarly, it makes no sense to compare the beauty unique to us to that of someone else. And we all have different needs which need to be met in order for us to glow our brightest.”

“It’s hard to disagree with you when you put it that way,” you chuckled lightly, feeling a little lightheaded from the sincerity with which he soothed your worries. Could he really be a demon?

“That’s the truth I’ve come to learn after doing my job for the last couple of centuries,” Dantalion responded in an amused chuckle. As he leant in to fasten the clasp of a necklace in your nape, you caught a trace of his scent which you already missed the second he pulled away to fix the pendant resting against your skin.

“Be that as it may, even a gem can’t hold out under constant pressure. It will crack sooner or later. You have to cut and polish it once it has hardened, and then—,” Dantalion’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief before he reached for your hand and quickly spun you around like a dancer, “Then, you must show it off, wouldn’t you agree?”

You were staring straight ahead into a mirror, his hand still holding yours while his other steadied you by the hip. Looking at your own reflection hasn’t always been the easiest thing. Flaws and insecurities had the nasty habit of clamouring for your attention the loudest, whereas your strengths took a quiet backseat. But for the first time, it was as if you were looking at yourself not through your own but through the eyes of someone else.

The fabric of your outfit draped around you just right, accentuating certain features of your body that sculpted your physique flatteringly. The colours complimented your natural complexion in a way that made your skin glow even without the sunlight and the jewellery brought your attention to all the right places.

“How does that feel?” He asked, his voice low so it wouldn’t shatter the atmosphere surrounding the two of you.

“Good… It feels really good, Dantalion.” You met his iridescent eyes through the mirror again when a pleased hum left him at your praise.

“Earlier you said it was still ‘just you’ who wore these clothes,” he said, hands coming up to smooth over your shoulders. “But I do not see what’s so wrong with that. After all, I chose these clothes just for you.”

“I see the error of my ways,” you joked and you realised you felt completely relaxed for the first time since you arrived in the Devildom. “I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“Oh nonsense, dear, it’s my job,” he waved you off. His earrings jingled as he flicked a strand of hair back over his shoulder. “If you really want to thank me, you could try on the rest of the clothes I prepared for you. It’s not often I get to dress humans, so I’d love if you could indulge me.”

A few hours later, you met up with Asmodeus at the entrance, who was holding even more bags than you. When he saw you, he appreciatively flicked his sunset-coloured eyes over you, from head to toe and back up.

“My my, our human cleans up nicely. It’s a shame you’ll have to wear your uniform most of the time,” Asmo said as he winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You seem to have been rather successful yourself,” you pointed out, eyeing his shopping bags.

“Of course, everything looks good on me after all,” he beamed and you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him. Then, his eyes lit up with what was either something amazing or a soon-to-be headache. “Ooh, I just had a great idea! Let’s have a little fashion show in my room once we get back, I’ll even do your nails!”

“How could I refuse?” You sighed but it lacked any actual bite.

Dantalion had watched your banter quietly but his curling lips and crinkling eyes gave away his amusement, even behind the shades he put on again. Clearing his throat when your conversation seemed to lull, he caught your attention and handed you another bag.

“Your uniform,” he explained when he saw the confusion in your eyes. “You can hardly go to RAD without it.”

“Oh but— Don’t you have to keep it to alter it?”

“Come on, look around, hon,” Asmo slung an arm around your shoulders and made a sweeping gesture to the shop around you. “Altering clothes is as easy as breathing to him, what did you think how long he’d take?”

“You flatter me, my friend,” Dantalion chimed in. “He is right though, I took care of it while you were trying on new clothes.”

“It’s- I—“ You knew that magic was incredibly efficient yet it perplexed you regardless. “You’re pretty amazing, huh?”

For a moment so brief you might have imagined it, his brows shot up in surprise before his face smoothed over again and he gifted you another award-winning smile.

“I will take your high praise to heart,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve put all your expenses on Diavolo’s tab, so don’t worry about that. Asmo, I see Lucifer is paying for your entire haul?”

“Jup, that’s right~”

“Wait, can you just do that?” You weighed in. “I mean, having Lord Diavolo pay for my things.”

“It’s my store, so… Yes, I can,” Dantalion stated matter-of-factly. “I am under the impression that as an exchange student, Diavolo should ensure you’re not lacking anything during your stay in the Devildom. Besides, how can he expect you to fulfil your duties to the programme when you can’t even present yourself comfortably? You may quote me on this if he has a problem with it, which I consider to be highly unlikely.”

“Thank you so much,” you sincerely said. Again. “I still feel like I should repay you somehow.”

“You should be careful with saying something like this to a demon,” he said, a spark of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint flashing behind his frames before it was gone just as quickly. “If you really are this keen on doing something for me, perhaps you’d find the time to stop by again soon. I’d love to hear more about human world fashion. Perhaps we could run an edition of Devil Style on it…”

“Before you get too carried away, Talion,” Asmo interrupted, “we really have to get going or Luci’s going to flip. We should really catch up again soon though!”

“You’re right, we should, ” Dantalion said as he showed you to the door. When Asmo had already sauntered out of the door, you turned to the tall demon trying to find the right words to say but he beat you to it. “It really was a pleasure to meet you, little gem. Be safe on your way home and remember you are always welcome here.”

Like earlier, his slender fingers caught yours and he brought your hand up to his soft lips, which brushed the back of your hand in a featherlight kiss. For the millionth time this day, your face turned into a furnace as his eyes found yours over the rim of his glasses. Just when you thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, his eyes narrowed triumphantly and a playful smirk tugged at his plush lips and your heart might have skipped a beat.

The moment which felt like an eternity, but in reality only counted a few seconds, was cut short when Asmo called for you to hurry it up. Releasing you from what only could’ve been a spell, Dantalion held the door open for you as you frantically searched for something to say.

“I’ll see you soon then,” was what you finally settled on, voice slightly unsteady with the pulse still beating in your ears.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled pleasantly before nudging you in the direction of Asmodeus. “You should go now. Demons aren’t known to be the most patient when there’s something they desire.”

As Majolish’s doors swung shut behind you and you rejoined your housemate, you turned his last statement over in your head. You felt like there was more to it but couldn’t put a finger on it. Perhaps you’d ask Dantalion about it the next time you’d see him.

For now, you were content to simply relive the events of the day, met with iridescent colours each time you closed your eyes, the soft fabric of your new clothes enveloping you.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#┊om! oc: dantalion ೃ༄#obey me #x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #dantalion x reader #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me dantalion

67 notes · View notes

velvette3 · 1 month

Text

(3/29/24)

Why do I feel sad for no reason sometimes? It’s like a sick fuckin joke I swear. Today was such a great and productive day too! My boyfriend is as loving as ever, and he even bought me something! My OC got drawn by someone else so wonderfully and I couldn’t even do her justice w/ her of design! That art is just amazing and beautiful, and it makes me happy!

But yet I feel so sad, like I’m missing something. Maybe it’s just the lingering of my great grandma passing a few months back, but I don’t think so.

My birthday is coming up, I’m excited. I really am, I know for sure at least one thing that is on its way! First time in a few years that I’m excited for my birthday, honestly.

But I just feel sad. Idk, kinda worthless? I love helping people but damnit just seeing those around me struggling, and me not knowing how to help. It’s killing me I think. I’m just glad these are staying in drafts (unless I decide in a half asleep haze to actually post this fuck shit)

I just wanna help people so bad but I’m not able to yet. It’s killing me. I want to help people, I do and helping people makes me so, so happy! It’s what kept me going for a long time. But for that majority of this year, I haven’t been able to help people, and time has gone by too quick. Way too quick. It’s killing me, knowing how fast time is going and how little time I have left in a relaxing life. How little time I may have with people I love. My grandmother on my father’s side isn’t even 20 years younger than the great grandma I lost this year. I’m so scared to lose my Grandma J. I don’t know what I’ll do, and it’s going to be hard once she’s gone, especially when I visit my father.

It’s even worse when there is so much I can’t say to her, and how often I hear her say horrifying things.

I can’t tell her I’m Ace Pan-romantic because she’s Christian, and she talks about death and heaven so casually. I don’t know what’s gonna happen and I’m so, so scared.

So much is just there, and I’m losing so much time. I can’t help people like I want to because I don’t have the time, I can’t spend time with those I love because of how much shit I have to do with my schooling and freaking out about my future (even though it’s already here almost).

Another year I’ve wasted almost, and it’s just moving too quick.

The few things I’m grateful for in this though, are a few people, and my own stubbornness. My boyfriend, god I love him so much. I haven’t said it to him yet, no with the language we speak (English) and I don’t know why. Maybe I’m scared. But I do love him so much. My older brother, E. He’s been there since day one and is so supportive of me. May he be happy in his relationship as it is for him! I love those two shithead so much, and I can’t wait to see my brother again soon, and my boyfriend Just tomorrow maybe!

And my own stubbornness. It’s been almost (at midnight it will be) 191 days since I intentionally self harmed

^ that was the math for months. I am halfway to my head long goal of no self harm, and that has kept me going as well. My stubborn self, whenever I think of self harming, practically on the verge of just doing it, I say I can’t. I’ll be crying and weeping, wishing for pain, but I still can’t bring myself to do it because I promised myself I’d go a year AT LEAST. It’s kept me from giving in, thank god.

But I don’t know, with all of this, even with those few people, if I can do it. I came so close, so so close to giving into the thoughts and shit recently. I’m starting to scare myself. I don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s killing me. Ever since my third grade years, I was horrible when it came to control. That’s when my self harm started, in third fucking grade because I thought I could’ve preventing certain things from happening, had I tried harder. Ever since then I’ve been so hard on myself but FUCK I need to, I deserve it because I’ve let people down so many times, I’ve disappointed so many people so much.

But I dunno. I dunno why I’m so sad when today was so good for me (3/29/24)

I dunno anymore, I just want to help people so bad, I want time to slow down. I want to feel whole. Helping people helps me, and my mentality, so much. But I don’t have the time to help others anymore and it’s so hard to find people to help when everyone has such outta wack time zones.

(3/30/24)

Time is passing too quick and it’s terrifying. On top of that, I’m so scared that if I mess up in my schooling (online schooling anyways) that my parents will call me outta the blue and yell and shit. I remember very vividly back in middle school how I got like, 2-4 states mixed up on my US states quiz that I cried. I cried so hard, fearing that my mother would be angry over a topic I should know well since this is the very country we live in. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

As of now, the grades I’m getting are decent. All A’s, all year round. But I’m struggling in my Spanish. Sure, they may have been more positive about my grades here recently because of the fact that I’m towards the top of my class, but that’s not the point.

Then being happy about it sometimes makes it worse. I fear if I slip even the slightest, their expectations, if I fail them, they’ll be angry again.

I’m so scared to impress them, that I’m making it harder for me because I do so well. I know I do decently, but because of the fact that I rarely mess up, the times that I do, are impactful.

It’s awful, really. I should be happy about my success but it’s just giving me hella anxiety.

I guess this is just a journal now? Meh, it might as well be. Drafts stay drafts, after all.

(Yeah I think this is draft #16?)

#vel rants/info dumps #depressing shit #personal stuff #I’m sorry guys #but it’s not like y’all are gonna see this #this is staying in the damned drafts #Vel’s drafts #sorry for the long post #sorry for the rant

16 notes · View notes

plasticfangtastic · 5 months

Text

American Royalty. Epilogue.

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: Here's the epilogue hope y'all enjoy this last entry, it meant a lot to write this I just can't get enough of Dadlander fics, I hope S4 inspires me to write more dadlander fics or fics were I can put reader-chan or OCs as his spouse-- will post part 2 of the masterlist and update my pin post soon.

Epilogue

American Royalty

Homelander hurried downstairs, fighting with his tie as he rushed to the breakfast table, throwing the red string by the foot of the stairs in frustration, just stopping shyly by a mirror to make sure his hair was nicely combed, his phone buzzing in his back pocket– probably another missed call from an executive or Ashley about the upcoming shareholders meeting.

Forks and plates clink downstairs, as he makes his way past the kitchen where one of the maids is cleaning dirty pans, spotting the back of your head as you serve Ryan some juice.

“Good morning, uncle.” Said Elmo sitting on Homelander’s spot.

“Hello kid that doesn’t live here but still eats for free!”

“Father!”

“Good Morning, princess.”

He was quick to wrap his arm on your waist and kiss your temple, pulling a chair as he smoothly disarms himself from you.

He stares at Elmo who at the tender age of 15 is the same height as Homelander, he’s a muscular teen, a perfect 80’s movie jock even wearing a varsity jacket, his superhero suit a perfect match to Helena’s.

Her jacket hanging on her chair and massively oversized, a puffy bomber jacket only achieving to dwarf her small frame– it’s a strong red, and the inside liner it's made out of Homelander’s own cape, her suit tight on her with a red X framing her chest something that had now began to bother her father, her shortie gloves laid next to her coffee, Elmo's was black with a white X on his chest.

Helena and Elmo were an odd match but that was part of the duet's charm, with her stuck at 1.55 cm in height while he was already 1.85 cm and growing, she was skinny and her hair slightly longer just past her shoulders, her bangs still blocking her eyes.

But as she lifted her face away from her tablet, he was welcomed by a beautiful young girl, Helena had everything that made you beautiful, like a majestic peony– she had blossomed to perfection, so pretty he would rub it in people’s faces about just how pretty his daughter was, even the dark circles under her eyes added character to her features.

Elmo was a handsome boy and a concern, even if your daughter insisted she had no interest in the tall muscular teen, Homelander had begun to remind himself every so often that he couldn’t harm the child, he couldn’t scare him to keep him in line, for fear that Helena would lash back at him if he touched her best friend.

“No tie?”

“Don’t start princess, now eat something, we got an incredibly long day ahead lots of last minutes meetings–

“It's breakfast!” You interrupted taking a seat by his side– no work talk until you get to the office!”

He took a sip of his milk, turning to Ryan who was in an unspoken competition with Elmo about who could eat the most waffles– Ryan had grown to a handsome young man, a light stubble on his cheeks as he tried to look more mature, his hair messy, still in his pajamas which made Homelander’s eyebrow raise... somehow in this state it reminded him of Butcher specially with the growing beard.

“Excited about today?”

“A bit nervous” He chewed quickly, covering his mouth to speak– but am certain I won’t make a fool of myself in the interview”

“You will not fail the university admission interview. Godolkin would be suicidal to reject the son of Vought CMO and the brother of the Senior Vice president of research and development.” He smiles– Besides I basically pa–

“Maybe he wants to feel as if he got into Godolkin on his own!” You interjected– Ryan has been a tremendous hero, saved dozens of people and has done everything to stand on his own. You’ll do great Ryan. I’ll be there for you and so will Genevieve.”

You look to your side, her face covered in maple syrup.

She looked up, her long white hair it’s all puffy and a tad frizzy, short bangs on her forehead pushed back and her thick glasses sliding down as she tries wiping the sticky syrup off her lips, you check that her beige dress isn’t dirty.

“You’re going to take care of your big brother today aren’t you, my dove.” John said with his sweetest voice– gotta help him out when daddy is not around.”

He took a long sip of his milk, he looked past you just to get a good glimpse of his small daughter.

Genevieve had unsurprisingly been born just as different as she was extraordinary, her condition had been a source of concern at first– her vision quite poor, her skin sensitive to the sun and her eyes hurt under any harsh light but the V in her system had kept those ailments in check even if she was quick to sunburn it would heal within a day.

It had worried you as she stopped being baby, as she began to waddle towards her father that somehow Joh would cease to see his precious daughter and instead some sort genetic disappointment.

But John had adored her, every milestone was met with adulation and praise, everything he had missed with the other two he was experiencing them with Genevieve, both glued to the other’s hip, she was more than a clingy child, she refused to leave his side as a baby and a toddler-- at times she would even cried harder when hungry because she had to part her father’s side in order to feed, angry that it was you who was responsible for that… eventually you both learned it was easy to get her to latch if he was also feeding with her (for Homelander insisted on breastfeeding and no bottle) you could accuse him of being improper if he wasn’t cooing and falling asleep with your nipple in his mouth, his eyes fully glazed and his mind somewhere else, it made for an odd sight but you both didn't want broken eardrums plus it was somewhat soothing.

You jokingly teased to get him a bra with a baby bottle just to make it easier for her– as her cries every once in a while would break the glassware, he briefly considered before thinking it was too much… despite that, her clinginess brought him no grief, those 7 months he stayed home had brought a side of him you’ve never imagine he possessed, he was sweet and gentle, extremely attentive with her… the guilt on his face whenever he did something with Genevieve that he hadn’t done with Ryan and Helena would wear him down– forcing himself to part from the baby to spend time with them as much as he could, your kids went to faraway places, overseas lunches, art galleries anything they wanted just to make sure he wasn’t neglectful… only to get home and immediately remove his little dove from your arms and place her on his chest, sniffing on her hair as if he was doing lines.

By the time you both went back to work she would only really spend time in Vought’s daycare when Ashley, Ashley’s at the time fiancee or Helena’s PA weren’t available for when he wasn’t able to have her on her arms, eventually nobody minded that he had a baby in his arms, she attended meetings that Helena had no interest in and even those she did alongside her big sister, much to your daughter’s annoyance.

Everything Genevieve did made him fluster and blush, his cheeks and eyes hurting from how much smiling he did, when her first word were ‘dada’ he was born anew, you remember that afternoon as you tried to clean her diaper while he pester you to do it correctly while unable to do it himself– he hadn’t left her alone for the rest of the week just wanting to get to speak more and more, he was heartbroken when he missed her first step but got it recorded from Ryan.

She loved the new cat he’d bought for Helena for her birthday and for a while the two had a one-sided feud for his daughters affections, even more so for his little dove love who seemed utterly fascinated by the hairless goblin.

With every year his children spend with him– he grew softer and domestic, something you’ve never anticipated.

And a part of you grew more wicked as you were too happy that Ryan began to call you mom, you weren’t ‘Miss anything’ or Y/N anymore, once you found yourself cuddling him and running down the streets to not miss his school events, or staying till late to help him with a science project you were more than enthused when you realized you had become a normal family, he was your boy too.

You had grown to like this life just as much as he did.

The day he hung the cape he hurt as much as you thought he would.

Homelander had died but he did not.

He bore his scars both as a reminder of that final battle with William Butcher… a painful victory, but of proof that he had survived to see his children grow.

His face had been scarred– starting from his forehead, crossing his lips and chin to make it down to his neck.

The destruction of his face had broken him but as he saw that none of his children cared for his injury, only that he was alive and Genevieve would never knew anything else, it made it not just bearable but okay. It had been a hard road, a messy road but here he was still working at Vought, still running things and frightening every soul both above and below his station, finding his talents in Hero management taking Stillwell’s former position soon after then heading the marketing department as of two years ago.

You on the other hand had become co-owner of Lucci, after a second restaurant was opened– a more contemporary casual italian joint still serving award winning pizza but now more contemporary italian fair, part of the success had been the quality and ambiance but being Homelander’s wife did brought a fair amount of foot traffic to your restaurants– it was far from what you’ve hoped to achieve but you had a business, away from Vought’s Tower after that little accident that cost Homelander his face nearly destroyed the company.

But like the flu, it came back the next season just the same.

“So ‘The Watch’ got the green light for being debuted at the shareholder’s meeting, the rest of the team arrived last night after that fuck up with United… and we have hours of photoshoots today” Elmo said as he read his father’s message.

Even with the events that took Homelander’s cape it did not kill his worth to the company, his children now carried the burden to live up to the legacy, which meant continuing with the superhero business.

Nigel had become your daughter’s manager and with Homelander as the one running the department it was a guarantee success, Helena had cared very little about the job, only doing the tag-team work to make you and Homelander happy, to her it was only worth it as just another way to keep her foot in as many aspects of her company as she could juggle.

Tragically she had to work as a Supe and you could tell how much she hated it by the grimace she was trying to hide.

“I just said no work… that includes you Elmo.”

“Sorry Ms. Gillman but Dad won’t stop messaging me.”

Homelander looked at his phone staring at a pic of the final line-up after they arrived to the airport, proud of his selection, he had vetted them, tested them and had been working closely with all of them for their debuts… perhaps Helena’s intellect was partially inherited.

“Is okay honey… is a stressful week… 'The Watch' is a 15 year long project… The industry has had a rough couple of years but test audiences and online response has been overwhelmingly positive, so Vought is very nervous about this launch… and we know Nigel and Sven are mostly nervous about Phantasma.”

“I’m not going to fuck it up, I just don’t want to do this nonesense. I'm busy.”

“The suit gets your funding. V30 might’ve been a success but the rest of your research is dependent on your public image.”

Helena grumbled not wanting to air out dirty iodine stained laundry, she looked down to see the family cat pawing at her leg asking for bacon which she happily obliged.

You settled in the entrance, trying to apply sunscreen to Genevieve as she seemed bothered by this new brand’s smell.

“It's not that bad, my dove.” Homelander came in holding two ties in his hand but no Helena, Elmo behind him looking stressed out– you have to bear it. It's good for you”

“It's yucky!”

“Daddy and mom just want you to be safe out there in the sun… I’ll go buy you a nicer one later, I promise.” He was considering firing the maid who purchased the wrong sunscreen in the first place but he would run it by you later– but first you need to go and take care of your big brother… think of this as your own suit.” He said with a smile.

“Is not a suit! Is cream!”

Her voice was airy, he handed you the ties and took the bottle of your hands instead, kneeling to press a fresh dot on her chin, she pouted but let it happen.

As he got up you wrapped a light blue string on his neck, tying it with more ease than he could ever muster, while Genevieve skipped towards the entrance to find her brother.

“I thought we’d skip the rebellious years with her.”

“What, you think Helena is out of hers?” you lightly chuckle– Ryan wasn’t too bad tho.”

“Ryan was delightful… Helena… thank god she’s Elmo’s problem most of the time.” he said while shaking his head.

“I’m not dating Elmo!” Helena came down with a large messenger bag under her arm and her tablet in the other– even if they love us online.”

“Your dad didn’t mean it like that… more like am your babysitter”

“Say that again and I’ll break your jaw.” she said sharply.

“Always so feisty… I feel bad for your teammates.” You say as your daughter grumbles.

They headed outside bickering about the usual things.

“You look handsome.” Your hands flatten his lapels, getting a feel of his suit– I’ll take Ryan and Genevieve out for lunch so make sure you and Helena eat, don't make me call Elmo.”

“If you ignore these” he pointed at his scars and the slight drop on his left eye– "I tell you at this rate we might have to adopt this kid.”

Admittedly you two had given him his own guest bedroom, and his parents just took you as their designated babysitter as they work and traveled for work tirelessly, but when the superhero business took place it was them who handle it, as you stayed home with the other two kids… regardless in his own way Homelander was fond of the kid who also ate him out of house and home.

“I think you look handsome with the scars…” You whispered.

Your arms wrapped themselves on his shoulders, he grinned sliding his hands into your hips and into your ass, giving you a playful squeeze.

“As I always say… it makes you look distinguished… is sexy.” he smiled for the breathy voice turned him on.

“I think the older I get the worse they get…”

“Oh John… the gray hairs and the scar just makes me wanna fuck you in the coat’s closet before you head for work.” you whispered with a moan.

You kissed him, the peck turned passionate, he lifted you just enough to make a passing maid fluster, your hands trying to control themselves to not mess up his hair, you squeezed at his neck and shoulders as his tongue explored yours.

“There’s children here!”

Ryan covered his eyes, trying to rush past you two as he mimed some gagging, rushing to his bedroom to pick up a forgotten item before returning back down with a gust of wind.

“After you drop the kids… swing by the office” He leaned into your ear, his hand still in your ass– please. babe”

“Those fingers better be warm for me.”

He purred into your lips, hesitant to stop kissing you but as he heard your daughter shout about being late, he reluctantly freed you, as the maid handed you your coat.

As you followed, a small group had already formed on the street catching selfies with Elmo, Helena hid her face behind her gas mask wishing she could flip her finger to the annoying crowd as she entered the car after forcing herself to pose for some photos– Homelander waved you goodbye after kissing Genevieve.

Ryan and Genevieve are already in the car by the time the crowd disperses and Homelander’s car departs.

“What?” Ryan still looked grossed out, his ears already picked up on what his parents had discussed– hey somebody is gonna have to kept your dad in a good mood when he finds out you’re applying for the Performing Arts program”

“I shouldn’t have to lie to him about not wanting to be a superhero.”

“Being a superhero is what will get your foot in Hollywood. The indie scene can be kind to you but if you want to be the next ‘Guillermo Del Toro’ or Miyasaki– you need to keep that suit to impress future investors, producers and studios.”

“So the same thing he says to Helena… he’s going to kill me.” He mumbles.

“Just dedicate your first Palme D’Or to your father… he’s gonna kill you over making animated movies instead of ‘real’ films more likely.”

He scoffed.

“Daddy don’t get angries!.” Genevieve took a juice box out of her backpack, struggling with her little chubby fingers to remove the plastic off the straw– you guys are meanies!”

“Oh Genevieve… you’re right… Daddy is a saint” You help her out, too young to catch the sarcasm– just let me handle your father.”

You leaned towards him, placing your hand on his lightly stubbled face after handing your daughter her juice, looking at him with adoring eyes, he was your sweet boy you could almost see a younger Homelander in him… no… a young John.

“Your father will be mad for a minute but the moment he sees a whole theater room fawning after your work… when he sees you happy beaming with pride… he’ll be crying while starting a round of applause if anything he’ll be so cringy… Leave it to me… besides you’re not staying in Godolkin anyhoo.”

“NYU in two years…” He leaned into your hand– He did… made a big deal when I qualified for South by Southwest… and… he did got pretty upset about not qualifying for that other one…”

“He was looking forward to booking those flights to England” You smiled softly– let him throw his tantrum, my sweet boy. I’ll be right there if you need me, Ryan.”

“Thanks mom.”

Homelander stood beside Nigel and Ashley as the photoshoot took place, a couple heads from marketing and media relations hovered around, the director of photography assistant drone on about the shoot but Homelander paid her very attention, his sight on the computer screen analyzing the images, ensuring his daughter got the best angles, he made his way to interrupt the photographer as he picked “bad” shots, the man was used to helicopter parents trying to do his job in his behalf but superhero suit or not… nobody fail to recognize Homelander, so he listened.

“Her chin looks fat.” He mutters, the man swallows and just nods moving towards his assistant to take his camera once more, Helena scoffs ready for another round of torture– she better look perfect in these concept photos.”

The man nods rapidly.

“Show your powers a bit, princess.” He says towards her– "whose idea was to do a photoshoot in civilian clothes…?”

Homelander turned to Nigel.

“Makes them seem fresh. If they look stylish and beautiful in and out of the suit. People will eat it up… it would be easier if we could recreate what made ‘The Seven’ succeed, and other teams that try to be of that caliber but this isn’t meant to appeal to only the American market, so this works… heroes these days have to be approachable not godly figures …trying to set up a global network of superheroes alongside juiced-up V30 soldiers has been tricky.” Said Ashley-- so we gotta play perfectly."

He rolled his eyes, fidgeting with his phone, getting a glimpse at the other supes waiting for the turn or getting their make-up retouched.

“I feel like we should’ve been doing this 30 years ago to have some older supes in the different territories but this mentorship program was a genius move, Homelander, sir.” Ashley spoke proudly– but the girls are the best representatives of Vought and their countries.”

“Just shipping our recyclable waste overseas.” He chuckles in a creepy manner as his sight focuses on the other heroes– "I almost feel bad for Roman Candle, having to be stuck with Deep in Greece.”

“She has a good sense of humor about it” Ashley smiles at her direction– hopefully he stays there.”

The team was a pretty visually pleasant group, Phantasma and Poltergeist as reps of the American division, Roman Candle– a pyrokinetic Supe representing Southern Europe, the tomboy of the team, her playful pixie cut messy around her golden lyra band, her face covered in freckles, her suit a toga with a chainmail dress beneath, and armor gauntlets and boots, then there was Hex Trap– a powerful illusionist falling into her trap meant having a schizophrenia speedrun representing Northern Africa, her suit was rather casual, a victorian long sleeve blouse, leather shorts, fishnets, black combat boots, and gothic accessories, Hex was a statuest teenager, her hair long and braided and very much french-raised but they had another candidate for western Europe so Homelander handed her Norththen Africa; next to Elmo was La Tunda– a shapeshifter who could turn herself into a frightening beast, she was body positive but not offensive according to Homelander’s team, she was well liked in her country had she not been strong he wouldn’t have given her the opportunity, he had supervise her re-debut makeover– her outfit quite small and her middrift was a bit exposed but it was cheaper in the long run for her to destroy less material, and finally to her left about to have her donut re-fried was the team’s visual– Joro-Spider a successful model, a dancer, social media influencer, a real idol and the representative of East Asia, her long black hair gave her an elegant look and her black, yellow and red suit her half hoodie and sneakers gave her a cool modern look, she was the 2nd most popular after Elmo leaving Helena 3rd in her own team, it aggrevated Homelander but she was a big draw for audiences.

Homelander didn’t hesitate to laser that half-eaten donut making the girl squeal as she dropped the evaporating pastry.

“That’s your third.” She hides her face knowing not to piss him off– go wash your face.”

She runs trying not to cry.

“Ashley… why is Joro’s hair fucking neon-yellow?” He noticed the tips she was hiding in her hood– why was I not notified!?” He screamed.

“She showed up this morning like that!! We already talked to her parents but her fans” she nearly dropped her phone trying to unlock it to show him the hair reveal post, his ire calmed down at the sight of 200K and counting likes– it's a hit.”

“Tell her to come by my office after we are done here.”

Neither Ashley nor Nigel argued with him.

Late afternoon came and all he had left to deal with was the remnants of Helena’s tantrum, each photoshoot had driven her mad, and now she had locked herself in a closet, chunks of her hair trailing her path into the closet.

“Helena I can break this door, or Elmo can faze into that closet and get you out… but I don’t want to do any of that… I want you to come out. I’m not angry.”

He could see her cowering beneath some coats, he had displaced the crowd leaving them alone in the dressing room, he dropped to the ground resting by the door.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to stress you out… I know between the shareholder meeting, your research and your hero duties you have enough on your plate… but this is a big thing for the both of us… for me… it would be easier if you could just be Dr. Gillman.”

“Can I?” Her voice was a squeak.

“Not yet… not until you take over Vought… after that you can be just my perfect and sweet daughter.”

The door opened slightly, she crawled towards her dad, letting herself be cradled in his arms, sniffling loudly, her once long hair had been cut short, barely passing the lengths of her chin, it was a choppy mess even more so than before, he rested his chin on her head as he wrapped her tight.

“‘The Watch’ means a lot to me… after Butcher did this to me… after his hooligans almost took down Vought… I thought it was over but with you… with you by my side we have worked so hard to rebuild this empire… I’ve worked so freaking hard to get my crown back just for you… just so I have something to give you… I know it's killing you, but this is the only way to bring together our fractured kingdom… for you to lead this new generation of Supes to greatness. We’re American royalty, Helena… it does not come easy to have so many burdens.”

Helena clung to his suit, trying to not pout any further, trying to stop herself from crying.

“The world needs us… it needs your brilliant mind to guide it… in 10 years I don’t doubt you’ll be the head of Vought and no doubt the rest of the world’s superheroes would be under your loyal command… but we can’t get there if we don’t make sacrifices.” he kissed her head, burying his nose in her hair, as he coddled her– or you rather hand your crown to Elmo? Ryan?"

“No… You think the public will love me? I’m not you… am not pretty… I can’t actually fly… am not even that tall! And I suck with people!”

“You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world. When I was your age I was locked in a cage having to practice speaking to people via intercoms and phones… and now I give amazing speeches! Is a skill that you can learn, and flying is cool... is a great selling point but you’re strong and a genius.” He kissed her again, glad that she was still so little compared to him– You’re my daughter and your mother’s daughter… you can do it… for a little bit longer.”

“Maybe Genevieve will like being a hero… it’s hard.”

“It’d be nice if at least one of you does.” His smile is slightly forced but he can’t bring himself to be upset– just to make me happy.”

“She can fly already.” She sounded mad against his chest.

“My little dove lives up to her name… but we need to build a world for her… a world for us Supes and you’re the only one that can do that.”

“I just have to work for a little longer for mom’s and your future…” She lifted her head not trying to get out of her father’s embrace, he looked down at his hand pulling on her nose playfully– I won’t waste 10 years of hard work over some shitty photoshoot. Sorry.”

Butcher had nearly taken everything from her, she had to do everything to make sure Vought would remain, she had to protect her mother’s livelihood and her father’s too, so here she was consumed by anxiety, slashing the hair that’s been played, pulled and burnt, sprayed and washed all day– her nose burning from all the chemicals and oils.

“Let’s go back to the office… that’s enough for today… you got your daddy’s talents! There’s more than enough good shots already, shame that your teammates are so god awful at this… you did great… amazing…” he kissed her forehead gently pushing her away from him, as they struggled to stand up– my sweet girl… you will do amazing things as the head of “The Watch” Vought better watch out..”

“The world you mean.”

He looked at her hair, lifting a few choppy strands in-between his fingers, letting out a soft chuckle.

“I can make this work. Leave it to dad.” he winked.

“Thanks… dad.”

The two-day extravaganza was about to culminate, the fair and meetings had almost ended and the new international team’s first iteration had been a resounding success, Homelander had been approached by his team regarding representatives for India and a NATO backed hero for the eastern bloc, a couple names being thrown: a young man from Hungary and a young woman from Ukraine… he wanted to kept the female ratio high due to future sex-appeal and to foster audiences to view these heroines like daughters or nieces that they wanted to support and watch grow… and maybe with time also fuck– he turned to Also Ashley to politely reject all male prospectives for the time being.

He took a long sip of his ginger ale as Ashley and other execs discussed providing China with their own supe after tentatively selling some small quantities of V30 just to test the waters… he scoffed at the idea, almost colliding with Andrew their stupid CFO over it, it would be easier if he could just rip his jaw off instead of repeating himself, it was weird to be the sensible one on the table for once, leaving the room before he actually killed a man, his eyes constantly flaring as the discussion heated up.

You nudge at his shoulder, inside the basketball stadium that has been transformed to encapsulate the magnitude of Vought, there was the lounge… ‘The Seven Oasis’– the acquisition of the Brooklyn Nets and the Barclay Centre had been divisive but sports was always a good source of income– It was paying off to have your own facility especially after such aggressive expansions.

You both stared at the floor below where only 1 hour ago The Watch officially debuted, the electricity was still in the air as the girls were still on stage partaking in a Q&A, after a lengthy introductory documentary, showing their profiles and accolades.

He turned to see you in an elegant but simple cream coloured two piece suit, in your hand a glass of moscato.

“Ryan is a natural in front of the camera… remember when he was just a shy little thing?” You said resting your weight against him, he shifted lightly on his seat to make you more comfortable, as Ryan and some attractive woman hosted the panel presentation– The Patriot… he plays the role flawlessly, hard to believe it's Ryan under the mask.”

His brows lowered and his lower jaw pushed forward.

“You cannot keep giving me the silent treatment, it's been days.” You remark but he didn’t make a sound– can’t believe it took me 10 years of putting up with you for you to finally leave me alone… guess my back can finally rest.’

He put his ginger ale down, glad that the room was so private, away from the relentless onslaught of annoying execs, Joro was delighting the audiences showing her powers as she swung across the ceiling with increasingly more unpredictable and aggressive movements, it was quite the sight getting the crowd rowdy, he looked away to give you a murderous look.

“I swear we told you.”

“Don’t gaslight me. The one who does the gaslighting in this relationship it's me!” He remarked with a bark– you should’ve told me!”

“Well what’s done is done.” You tried to keep a confident look on your face– now what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do? Make Ryan hate me!? Just gotta smile like a good boy and deal with it!”

“Exactly!”

“I love you too.” He said with heavy sarcasm, He looked back on the stage listening to Elmo discussing his exploits in Ontario, his goals for protecting the America’s and looking forward to heading down to Mexico– He will continue his Superhero duties! Let him try being fucking Scorcese all he wants but he’s not taking the suit off!”

He smashed his fist on the armrest, breaking it with ease, younger you would have jumped in fright but now it was but a lull, no palpable sense of danger in his actions, you took a short sip of your drink putting it down on the floor, your ears picking up on Elmo’s answering the never ending barrage of dating rumors, being a handsome boy surrounded by a bunch of cute girls certainly put him in a phenomenal position but he treated the answer with respect saying that these girls were like family to him.

Homelander eyes spark as the question became about Helena, he awaited the idiot’s response but Elmo was more than genuine when he spoke of her like her sister, the bastard did sleep in his house enough, he even ended his answer referring to Homelander as his uncle, looking into the booth with a wink– Helena was doing her best to stay still glad that her gasmask covered half her face and her bangs hid her eyes so nobidy saw her pissed off expression, the interviewer turned to Helena about the same question.

“Too busy.” Her tone was playful– maybe when am older and not helping take care of the country! Just not with this doofus!” She elbowed him playfully.

Ryan gave her an approving nod, definitely acting like the good older brother he was, as he reviewed the next question and quickly proceeded to ask the one after.

The audience seemed happy about that, Homelander relaxed turning back to you.

“You have my support there… The Patriot won’t fade away… our boy isn’t stupid, he knows being a super puts him in a better spot than others… but I better have your support for his dreams, in the same way I have supported this grand vision of yours… in the same way you and I have supported Helena.” You rested your chin on his elbow– remember when Helena graduated from MIT… how happy you were?”

He could still see his little 11 year old in her cap, a couple murmurs irritated him as they were incredulous to see a small child on stage, he had taken the job of her driver: flying her back and forth, he was happier when she went to Cornell just to make the trips shorter, her bubble was useful but you both were too worried about her going on her own meeting planes, birds and god knows what else.

He was one of those embarrassing parents that evening.

“Am not upset about him not pursuing Crime Fighting… am upset about being lied to… of course I’ll support him! What kind of dad would I be if I stayed mad about it!?”

“I’m glad you are still doing your best.” You stroke his chin letting him kiss your palm as he follows your tender gestures– Maybe we should start heading downstairs to meet the rest of the execs… heard from Ashley, Russia is throwing some big numbers.”

“Oh geez can’t wait for ‘The Cold War 2: Electric boogaloo edition’ these fucking idiots… Where’s Genevieve? She’s probably tired or high on sugar” he started getting up leaving his mess for somebody else to clean, offering you a hand to help stand up– you look great… that skirt makes your ass look amazing, hope the whole place knows just how good my wife’s ass is…” He gave your behind a light smack as you foolishly took the lead– better than wine.”

“She’s with Ashley’s wife, and thank you… you look cute in a turtleneck… maybe I get to see you out of it.”

As you left the suite, he stopped himself by the door looking into the crowd as ‘The Watch’ began to leave the stage.

“Was it worth it? Getting married and living with me and such.”

He could hear Helena's heartbeat finally calming down, Hearing Ryan speak kindly into her ear. You stared at him unsure as to what brought this on but whatever his ear was picking up might’ve stressed him out.

“I’m happy. I don’t recognize myself some mornings. But I didn’t think I was going to make it back then, always afraid CPS or Vought would take my kid away… wondering if I had a future to give her… then I realized I don’t want to recognize that old me…”

“Sometimes I miss that voice in my head but I don’t think I want him to come back… I like this… I like us… I like the Gillman’s… even the cat, that fat lazy naked cat.”

“You love that cat, you give him chamomile and oat baths so his skin stays healthy!” You laughed thinking of Homelander and that tiny goblin mewling as he stroked his paws with some soothing balm cream made for cats– I like this too… I like that we made it work.”

“And you… you like me? Like you liked me the first time?” you were a bit incredulous at hearing this 50 year old man sound like a teen for the moment, his hand heavy on the door but jittery– I like you… like you lots.”

You blushed, trying to calm down as he swayed lightly on his toes.

“Well you certainly don’t come home covered in blood and guts as often, like when we first met… Jesus you ruined so many nice tops because you were such a messy but sweet boy… shame… I wouldn’t mind getting rid of some shirts” you giggled, you were always a little messed up, you had to be to find him lovely in the first place– I like you… a lot… so…do… you wanna go out on a date with me then?”

You twirled with your hair, biting on your lip trying to be cheesy, here you were a teenage girl asking your crush on the school yard once again.

“Y-Y-Yes!” He swallowed, looking genuinely nervous– Should I get covered in blood for our date?”

“Maybe… altho maybe we should save that up for after Ryan moves to campus, Helena should be busy at work… and I get Ashley and her wife to babysit Genevieve… they want some more practice before the adoption finalizes…so promise?”

“Promise.”

His eyes glowed in a way no superpowered laser ever could imitate, he held your hand as he closed the door behind.

You both thinking about where to go for your next date.

“Maybe we could go furniture shopping and get a singular bed for our bedroom…” He said nervously.

“Maybe” You winked at him.

The end.

A/N: lowkey want to write a sequel to thsi fic but centering on Helena as she tries to be a hero one day so this its baity, also Helena is canonically a lesbian so she'll never be with Elmo as to how Homie will react well I always write him as canon Bi but he doesn't know she's gay yet so who knows.

Taglist: @demodemo909 @ghqst-fqce @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @thychuvaluswife

#homelander #personal #the boys #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #my fic tag #dadlander #plz check my other works if you'll like my stuff #shoudl be posting all of this in ao3 during my work break my issue was that some of my earlier fics were writen straight into tumblr drafts #and copyign and pasting from tumblr its hellish on mobile as i dont own a computer

43 notes · View notes

vanfleeter · 9 months

Text

Doesn't Stay In Vegas (7) // JTK

Characters: Jake x Catie (OC) Warnings: Tiny bit of smut (minors DNI I beg), angst, fluff, Sam being Sam.

Parking his car in the lot, he locks the doors and heads across the street. The bells above the shop door ring indicating his entrance. A cashier beams a smile from behind the counter and welcomes him inside the store and offers her help if he needs it.

“Actually..” He steps up to the counter. “My wife and I just found out we’re expecting and we don’t know what we’re having yet–so I’m not entirely sure what I should be looking at.”

“Okay! Well first, congratulations! Second, we have the perfect selection for what you’re looking for.” She steps out from behind the counter and leads to a little area in the shop full of gender neutral clothing. “Anything here will do.”

“Great, thank you.”

“No problem, let me know if you need any more assistance.” She says before going back to the counter.

He scans through the little clothes, his mind trying to wrap itself around the fact that humans can be this small. Finding a small onesie with a star on it, he picks it out and retrieves a little rattle before bringing it up to the counter to check out. Once checked out, he heads down the block to a bakery and picks up his order he had placed a half hour ago before he got to the baby store.

Driving home, his nerves were getting the best of him. They hadn’t spoken much since they found out about the pregnancy. Or at least, she hasn’t been talking to him. He knew he made an ass of himself that day but no matter what he said or tried to do, she’d still give him the cold shoulder.

‘Give her time’ Josh’s voice echoes in his head.

Give her time. He did give her time. But he’s running out of time. Tour starts soon and he won’t be here with her.

Pulling into the driveway, he gets out of the car and heads inside the house. Getting upstairs to the bedroom, he quietly steps through the door when he finds her still asleep and sits down on the bed beside her.

“Catie..” He whispers as he gently taps her cheek. “My love, wake up..”

Her face scrunches up and she groans. “Go away, let me sleep..”

He chuckles. “Come on, wake up. I brought home breakfast.” One of her eyes peek open and he looks at her. “It’s your favorite..” He says in a sing-song voice.

“You brought me breakfast?” She says as she sits up. He nods his head and pulls out a still warm blueberry bagel. “That is my favorite.”

He smiles. “I know it is–and..” He reaches back into the bag and pulls out a cherry Danish. “The last one of the morning.”

“I feel spoiled.” Catie giggles.

“But that’s not all.” He says as he reaches down to the floor and picks up the shopping bag. “I did some small shopping.” He hands her the bag.

“For me?”

“Well, for both of us.” He says.

Reaching inside the bag, she pulls out the little rattle. She looks at him in curiosity before reaching back in and taking out the onesie. Her eyes sparkle with tears and she drops the items in her lap before throwing her arms around Jake.

“I want you to know that I want this baby. Sure it’s not perfect timing but I promise you, I’m in it the whole way.” He says as he holds her.

She pulls away and wipes her face. “I've been such a bitch to you and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Trust me, babe, I did.” He says.

Catie sniffles. “Do you want to go to the appointment with me today before you go into rehearsals? I know I didn’t let you the first time..” She lowers her head. “But I want you there.”

Jake eagerly nods his head. “I want to go.” He says as he picks her head up. “And even while I’m gone, I’ll be facetiming you–I don’t want to miss anything.” —

“Good morning boys!” Jake announces as he walks into the rehearsal space. Sam looks up from his keyboard as he pauses his playing.

“Someone’s very perky today.” He says. “What’s got you in a good mood?”

“We went in for a scan today,” Jake beams. “And I got to see the baby.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a printed copy of the scan. “It’s tiny but it’s there.”

“No fucking way, I want to see.” Sam leaps up from the piano bench and rushes over to Jake. “Oh would you like that, the shape really does look like a peanut.” Jake scoffs and shoves Sam away. “I’m kidding!” Sam laughs. “That’s amazing honestly.”

“Thanks.” Jake beams.

“So, what are you hoping for? A boy or a girl?” Sam asks as he leans against the piano.

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I mean it’d be typical for me to say a boy but honestly, I want a girl.”

“Girl?” Josh’s voice rings through the air as he enters the room. “Are you having a girl? You know already?”

“No, you idiot.” Jake says. “Sam asked which I would want and I said I want a girl.”

“Let me just say–if you have a girl, she won’t ever be dating.” Josh chuckles. “Not while we’re around.” He pats Jake’s back before heading over to the mic to do a few tests. –

Coming home later that evening, he steps through the front door and immediately smells food cooking. He smiles as he sets his guitar case on the floor before making his way to the kitchen. There he finds Catie standing by the stove and stirring pasta in a pot. He walks over and wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you today.” He says as he kisses her cheek.

Catie giggles and puts her hands over top of his on her stomach. “You just saw me this morning.” She says.

“Just let me miss you.” He says as he kisses along her neck. He hears her moan and he chuckles. “Does that feel good?”

“Don’t start..” She says. “I’m starving..”

“Mmmm,” He hums. “For me?”

Catie laughs and turns away from the stove. “No-o-o-o,” She says. “I’ve been craving spaghetti all day.” She wraps her arms around his neck. “But having you for dessert would be great.”

He chuckles and leans down to kiss her. “Someone’s hormones seem to have spiked today.”

“You have no idea.” She says. “I’ve been dying to have your hands all over me.”

“Oh you mean like this?” Jake moves his hands from around her waist and runs them up underneath her shirt. She moans as she nods her head. “Or maybe this?” He takes one of his hands and slides it underneath her waistband of her leggings and cups his hand around her center. He smirks as he watches her eyes roll.

“Jake..” She breathes.

He leans over and kisses her cheek as he withdraws his hands. “Dinner first.” He says making her huff.

“You’re such a tease.” She says before turning back to the stove and stirring the pot again.

“So I showed the guys the sonogram.” He says as he goes over to the cupboard and pulls out a couple bowls. “Sam said the baby looked like a peanut.”

“An adorable peanut.” Catie comments as she turns off the burner.

“Our baby does not look like an oblong pod.” Jake says pointing his at her to get his point across.

Her eyebrows raise. “A what?”

“An oblong pod,” Jake shrugs his shoulders. “It’s what a peanut is described as.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s both a noun and an adjective,” Jake begins to explain. “A noun, an object or flat figure in an elongated rectangle or oval shape. An adjective, having an elongated shape, such as a rectangle or oval.”

“I'm burning your books.” She jokes.

Jake beams a smile and grabs the pot off the stove and a strainer from the cupboard before straining the noodles in the sink. “Our child is going to be a smart kid.” He says.

“With a dad like you? Of course they will be.” Catie says as she takes the strainer from him and dumps the pasta into the pan of the spaghetti sauce. “They have a smart daddy.” She hears him scoff and turns to face him. “It’s true.”

“I don’t know about that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t have the easiest time with my reading and English growing up, I didn't feel smart.”

A small smile appears on Catie’s face and she walks over to him. “But you worked really hard at it. If you never stuck it out, you never wouldn’t given a vocabulary lesson and I wouldn’t have learned something new.” She reaches up and caresses his cheek. “One day when our child is old enough, you can teach him or her what an oblong pod is.” He smiles and she kisses him on the cheek. “Now, let’s start eating because I’m growing impatient for dessert.” —

They never made it to the bedroom. They didn’t even make it out of the dining room. As soon as they both finished eating, he had her sprawled out on the other side of the table. Having her legs hooked over his shoulders, he has his tongue plunged deep inside of her. He feels her writhing and he smirks. Pulling away he drops her legs and wipes his mouth.

“Jake, why’d you stop?” She whines. “Please please please, come back..”

“Aw, is my baby needy?” He says with a smirk.

“Stop teasing me.” She says as she grabs at him.

Undoing his pants, he pushes them down his legs. He licks his lips as he watches her slowly play with herself. Pulling her to the edge of the table, he wiggles in between her legs and teasingly glides his cock through her folds, collecting her arousal on it. Lining himself up with her entrance, he slowly pushed inside until he bottoms out.

“If you don’t hit that spot every time, you are never allowed to touch me again.” Catie says as she holds his face in her hands.

“There’s no way in hell you could survive without me ever touching you.” He smirks. “But the challenge is accepted.”

He pulls out all the way to his tip but shoving himself back in and with every thrust he continues to hit the same spot each time. His grunts and groans fill the room mixed with the sound of their skin connecting harshly.

Being pregnant and with her hormones heightened, she reaches her climax quicker than normal and she spills all over him as her orgasm rips through her body.

“Oh fuck baby, you weren’t kidding..” He pants as he keeps thrusting himself into her. Soon he was approaching on his own and he finds himself bent over her front side as he releases himself inside of her. He rests his head on her chest as he catches his breath.

Suddenly the doorbell rings and bolts back up right. “Shit..” He mutters as he pulls out of her. The doorbell rings again followed by a couple knocks. “Be there in a second!” He calls. He helps her off the table and pulls her underwear back on before rebuttoning his pants and fixing his shirt. The doorbell rings for the third time followed by Danny’s voice.

“Jake!” He calls.

“I’m coming, dammit!” Jake shouts as he rushes out of the dining room and to the front door. “Can I help you?” He says as he opens the door only to find his twin standing behind him and Sam on the other side.

“Guys Night is tonight.” Sam says as he holds up a six pack of Toppo Chicos. “Did you forget?”

“Oh uh..”

“Oh you did..” Josh groans. “We discussed this before we all left rehearsal.”

“I’m sorry guys, I guess I forgot.”

“Oh hey boys!” Catie exclaims as she pops up beside Jake. “I see it’s Guys Night tonight–just in time too, we just finished dinner.” She gently nudges Jake to the side and lets the three of them inside the house.

“Funny how she remembered and she’s the pregnant one.” Josh jokes earning a glare from Jake.

“I don’t think he was paying attention,” Sam says. “He wouldn’t stop looking at the sonogram.”

Catie sees Jake’s cheeks flush red before he throws his fist into Sam’s shoulder. She giggles and kisses his cheek before walking away and heading back to the dining room where she begins to clean the table. She freezes when she sees their cum on the table. Quickly she grabs the roll of paper towels and cleans the table off before any of the guys see it. Though Jake catches her sight as she turns to leave the dining room. A smug look is spread across his face as he lifts a beer to his lips as he reclines back into the love seat. Now it’s her turn for her cheeks to flush red.

Gathering up the dishes, she slips into the kitchen and gently puts them into the sink before running warm water and soaping up a sponge.

Not long after she finished washing off the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a pair of lips connect with her cheek. “You should’ve licked the table.” He says into her ear sending a chill down her spine.

“Wouldn’t that have been quite the show for your brothers.”

He chuckles and kisses her cheek again. “I got hard just at the thought of the cum lingering there.” His hands brush down her hips and around to her front as he presses himself into her ass. “But seeing your ass shake as you scrubbed the plates? Fucking hell, do it again.”

“Jacob, your brothers are still here. Go hang out with them.”

“How can I concentrate on a game of Monopoly–a game I’m bound to lose anyways–when I can whisk my sexy wife upstairs and fuck her?”

“You already fucked me.”

He chuckles and kisses the side of her neck. “But the thrill of fucking you knowing my brothers could hear really sends to the blood rushing to my dick..”

“Now look who’s the horny one..” Catie says as she turns to face him. “Tell you what, if I’m still awake by the time the guys leave, then I will let you fuck me until I pass out. Fair?”

“Fucking hell woman..” He says.

Catie giggles and pulls away from him. “Now go back to the living room and spend some time with your brothers.”

“It’s not like I don’t see them every day anyways.”

“Goooo..” Catie says as she shoves him out of the kitchen.

Making herself some tea and a bagel to munch on, she heads upstairs to their bedroom and makes herself comfortable in bed and begins to search for a movie. –

“Yeah, yeah, yeah..” Jake grumbles as he walks the guys to the front door.

“Don’t forget, Jake, I mean it.” Josh says.

“Josh, I got it. Don’t worry, she’ll be surprised.” He shoves the three of them through the front door. “Now go away.”

“Such a dick..” He hears Sam joke.

“At least mine’s bigger..” Jake retorts.

“Wanna bet?” Sam says as he spins around on his heels.

“Oh no you don’t..” Danny says as he steps in front of Sam who has his pants already unbuttoned. “Quit acting like children and get in the damn car.” He says as he shoves Sam down the walkway.

Jake rolls his eyes and steps back inside the house and locks the door. After cleaning up the living room and dumping all the empty beer bottles and cans into the recycling bin in the garage, he shuts all the lights off downstairs before moving for the stairs. In the distance, he can hear something playing upstairs and as he approaches the bedroom he hears little giggles from the television accompanied by the sound sniffling.

Pushing the door, he steps inside to find Catie sitting on the bed and watching the television screen. Tears fill her eyes as a few drop down her cheeks. He looks over at the television to see a home movie playing.

A little girl is shown on the screen as she giggles and laughs while her father tickles her. “Daddy!”

“I’m not daddy, I’m the tickle monster!” He says as he continues tickling the little girl. “Rawr!”

Jake looks back at Catie and realizes that the little girl in the movie is her. That’s her father. Feeling his heart drop, he goes over to the bed and climbs in beside her. “Baby, why are you watching these?” He asks.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I wasn’t originally but then.. I don’t know.. I started thinking of you being a dad and it got me thinking about my dad and then I found myself watching these old movies and now I’m missing my dad and fuck.. Can’t my hormones just fucking chill for a moment?”

Jake looks back at the screen as her father reappears, the camera zoomed in on his face. “Cat, you’re zoomed in..”

“Oh fuck..”

“Language young lady..”

“I’m sixteen dad..” She retorts. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Now..” She clears her throat. “What’s your name?”

“Michael.”

“And how old are you?”

“Do I have to say that?”

“Dad, come on.” Catie groans.

He smiles. “Fine.. I’m thirty-two.”

“And what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a Marine.”

“Badass Marine.”

“Catherine. Language.”

Catie laughs, the camera shaking in her hands. “Final question. What do you like to do for fun?”

“I like to read.”

“So boring.”

“Oh I’m sorry, what did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, something cool.”

“Like what?”

“Talk about your motorcycle. You’re obsessed with that thing.”

The television turns off and Catie drops the remote onto the bed. Jake looks back over at her and she has her face buried in her hands. Moving closer to her, he wraps his arms around her body and pulls her into his chest. “I miss him, Jake..”

“I know baby..” He whispers as he runs his hands through her hair. “I know..” And then he holds her until she falls asleep on top of him and continues to hold her until he himself falls asleep.

_____________________________________________________________

tag list: @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlover @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @emilykamo @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @sinarainbows @gvfpal

(if I missed anyone, I apologize, remind me in the replies)

If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to reach out! :)

#greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x oc #doesn't stay in vegas

48 notes · View notes

pisupsala · 1 year

Text

One for The History Books [Chapter 21] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 10.3k

[Library]

Chapter 21 - Landfall

“You know we don’t have to open it tonight, right?” You’ve noticed Bradley has been eyeing the box with a sort of nervous apprehension—his eyes flicking back and forth while you eat, still seated on the floor.

It feels like that’s the best place with zero pretense instead of sitting on the sofa, or god forbid across from each other at the table. “It can always wait.”

That’s not to say you are not dying to know what’s in the box and why Bradley brought it. But you shouldn’t push it—especially not today. Everything still feels raw, precarious almost.

But still, Bradley took the massive first step in trying to fix the situation between you, and give you what you had been asking for him. Pushing him more right now wouldn’t be fair.

It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed. Bradley kept his suffering locked away for so long, and carried the burden of his traumas by himself while directing you away from it. Now he’s made the conscious decision to let you in.

All you can really do now is listen to him and support him in the way that he needs you to. And no matter how hard it might be for you, that also means backing off sometimes.

Bradley shakes his head in response. “I want to,” He looks at you with those warm dark eyes, still full of pain. “Because I want to make sure there’s not a doubt left in your mind that I’m giving every part of me to you before I leave.”

You can’t help but blush under his intense gaze.

“You’re really all or nothing, aren’t you?” You smile before turning serious. “But Bradley, I don’t want you to hurt yourself on my account like that. I don’t want you to tear yourself apart because you think this needs to be fixed completely, like, right now.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, you add: “I don’t doubt you. And I’ll be here when you come back, waiting for you. And the box will be here too.”

“I don’t want to lose my nerve.” Bradley admits sighing lightly. You sit in silence for a moment, contemplating.

“Then, let’s do it.” You conclude, smiling up at Bradley. “Let's get rid of the pizza boxes first, though. Do you want another beer?”

“Are you sure you’re done?” Bradley looks at you somewhat skeptically as you get up from the floor. “You ate less than half of your pizza.”

“Oh, yeah—I’m pretty full.” You shrug.

Truth is, as that pizza was the first big meal you’ve had in about a week, the three odd slices you had made you feel overly full. You only started feeling hungry after the enormous dark pit in your stomach finally dissolved—because this is not the end. This is a challenge you need to overcome. And together you will.

“Are you okay?” Bradley’s words are pointed, not accusatory in any way, but worried. “We haven’t really talked about—well, my week was absolute shit.”

You chuckle humorlessly. “Well… same here.”

Obviously, you hadn’t been okay. At all. Like, Bradley is probably too much of a gentleman to say anything, but between the bruise, bags under your eyes, messy hair, and pallid skin, you look at least partially as shitty as you’ve been feeling.

You pushed yourself through the days at work, numbed by a near-constant stream of music, podcasts, and movies, collapsing in your bed the moment you came home, exhausted beyond belief. Yeah, it sure as shit didn’t help you could barely keep anything down, the corrosive feeling in your stomach pretty much locking you up from the inside.

“But I’m okay now.” You assure Bradley with a small smile, before adding teasingly: “If you give me a kiss, I’ll feel even better, actually.”

You lean in, bending at the waist and resting your hands on Bradley’s broad shoulders for stability. With a playful grin, he obliges you, pressing his lips against yours.

“It’s making me feel better, too.” He murmurs against your mouth softly. You squeeze, feeling Bradley’s muscles move under your fingers. You’ve missed him so much, but your kisses don’t go any further than that. You can feel his hesitancy—he’s not done with his bloodletting yet.

He still thinks there is a chance you won’t want him anymore. It’s pretty clear to you that this is just as much for himself as he says it’s for you. He needs to confront his past to start making his own peace with it; only then can he move past it.

And you will let him take the lead as long as you keep going forward, supporting him every step of the way.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You good, babe?” You half-whisper, eyes closed, reveling in his proximity.

“Much better, darlin’.” Bradley murmurs back, his voice deep and rough. It sends a jolt down your spine.

Not the time.

Putting the pizza boxes in the kitchen and grabbing two more beers, you sit back down on the floor next to Bradley. He’s fidgeting, peeling the label off his nearly empty drink.

You pop the new bottles open, offering him one. In a single swig, he empties the beer he had been nervously handling, setting it back on the small coffee table off the side before accepting the new bottle.

Reaching out, he pulls the box closer so it sits just between both your legs. His hand rests on the lid for a moment.

“Do you want to open it?” You quirk your eyebrow at Bradley’s sudden request. Gently putting your hand over his, you shake your head with a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Your instinct keeps telling you to help him, ease his discomfort, and carry the brunt of the situation because you know you’ll be able to handle it. You would do anything to lighten his burden, but some things are not up to you. You understand now this is not one of them. There’s no need to tell him—he knows—he needs to do this.

As Bradley slides off the lid, you can’t help but lean forward to get a good look at the contents of the box. The entirety is messily filled to the brim with pictures and what looks like albums. Some seem to be thrown in haphazardly on top of the rest, edges bent and damaged from being jostled.

“Oh…” The sound escapes you involuntarily as you realize what’s on the pictures. They are family pictures. Bradley’s family. Your heart clenches for a second—Bradley really took your words to heart.

“It’s ehm-,” Bradley hesitates for a moment, clearing his throat, searching for words. “These are all the pictures I have left from my family.”

Your head snaps to look at him—Bradley is looking forlornly at the pile of pictures, fingers tracing one that is on top before grabbing it. He studies it for a second, and then wordlessly shows it to you. Your eyes flicker over the picture before returning to his face.

“I don’t really—I have no idea what to do with this.” He admits with a deep sigh. “I wanted to show you, but now that I opened it…” Bradley trails off.

“Is that you with your little league team?” You smile up at him kindly, pointing at the picture in his hand. “Where was that taken?”

You gently guide his hand closer to you both, so you can look at the photo better. There’s a gaggle of kids in the picture, all still very young in cute and messy little baseball uniforms.

“I - I think that’s still back in San Diego.” He starts hesitantly. “I think I was too young for little league there, that must be something like the local tee ball team.”

“Which one are you? — Wait, don’t tell me. I want to see if I can guess.”

Having faced a myriad of difficult decisions and situations in his life, Bradley didn’t think he’d view opening a box of old pictures as such a hurdle. His heart is beating loudly, and he has to consciously keep his hands steady.

He hasn’t really thought it through, and he hadn’t really prepared—he barely remembered what was in the box, or what state it was in. What was he actually going to do with this?

Somewhere, having to go through those pictures was always going to happen, but he’s been putting it off for so many years now that he can barely believe the moment is here.

But for one thing, he knows he can rely on you. Your kindness, your empathy. Your love. You wouldn’t let him struggle through this by himself. Like now. With gentle questions, you steer his thoughts away from anxiety and focus on the small things.

You keep guessing wrong which kid he could be, picking ones that have darker hair. Not being able to keep a small grin off his face, he points to the small and skinny kid squinting against the sun in the second row.

“No.” You look at him with comical disbelief. “You were not that blond as a child.”

You scoot closer to him as you bring his hand with the picture up to your face.

“That’s a trick of the light though, isn’t it?”

“Nope. Wait, I’m sure there’s more in here.” Bradley grins despite himself. “I think there might be a whole baby album.”

“Well, I for sure need to see that.”

Bradley leans forward, casually rifling through the pictures at the top of the box. Not being able to stop yourself, you spring up to stop him.

“Bradley, the pictures will get damaged like that.” You admonish him mildly as you carefully pick them up one by one and setting them aside. “Your memories deserve to be handled with care, don’t you think?”

“You’re right.” He concedes as he feels his heart do a strange little jump. It’s almost painful, but it gives Bradley a strange feeling of elation. Back when he was moving around a lot from his childhood home to college, to boot camp to his first station, he simply consolidated all pictures into this box without much thought.

And here you are, carefully picking every picture up and arranging them in neat little piles on the floor next to the box. The gentleness of the gesture feels deeply intimate. Like you give every snapshot of his life a little bit of attention as you handle it with so much respect. Kindness. Love.

A kind of mercy he hasn’t allowed himself in all these years.

Much more carefully, he pulls out the baby blue album. His baby album. In all these years, he didn’t think he’d actually be looking through that again. That’s a thing for moms to do, right? Show every embarrassing childhood picture to your girlfriend and tell them every awful story.

For a second, Bradley thinks about Mav - he knows so many stories. He was there for them for all those years. As were many others that flew with his dad, although not as much.

In the end, Mav was there for more stories of them than his own dad was. His mom was there for all of them—well, almost all of them. Some teenage mistakes Bradley would rather take to the grave, and would be more than happy if Mav did too.

Throwing up riding on the back of Mav’s motorcycle when he got too drunk for the first at a house party at the age of 15 would be one of those. Mav had laughed at him so hard, Bradley was sure would never live that one down. In all fairness, he never told Bradley’s mom what happened. He just got Bradley home.

Bradley leafs through the baby album, your chin on his shoulder, loving the little notes his mom made. The first plate of spaghetti (it was a massacre), the first time on a swing (never wanted to get off), first day at preschool on base (many tears), on the pier waiting for daddy to come home.

“You look so annoyed there.” You chuckle, pointing at the picture of a 3-year-old Bradley holding a scrunched-up welcome home sign in his little fists, barely dried tears staining his rosy cheeks.

“Oh man.” Bradley laughs lightly. “All I remember from that is we just stood there on the pier—it took forever, and it was so hot that day.”

He pauses, trying to remember.

“I begged for an ice cream and my mom would tell me it’s a little bit longer; we had to wait for dad.” He reminisces. “That must have been the longest carrier docking in all history.”

You giggle, thinking back to the past summer. Waiting for the carrier to dock and the sailors to disembark was tortuous under the summer sun for you, let alone for a small child.

“The next time I remember waiting like that…” Bradley trails off, suddenly deep in thought. “My dad never walked off the carrier.”

You hold your breath for a second.

“Only Mav came back.” Bradley swallows. “I could barely understand why we were there. Why we were leaving without dad.”

“That must have been really hard.”

“I mean—I don’t know… I was so young, it took me a while to comprehend my dad really wasn’t coming back.” Bradley has a pensive look on his face, as he stares at the far end of the room rather than at the album in his hands. “I remember much more vividly suddenly having to move out of our house, going out of state, living in a smaller place just together with my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Barely four. I think?” He shifts uncomfortably. It was easy to talk about the light stuff, although it always inevitably leads to dark memories. His dad not coming home, his mom always crying, moving away. Exactly the things he doesn’t like thinking about.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You supply sincerely. God, his dad died so young.

“‘S okay” Bradley mumbles.

“Is that why you never wanted me to wait for you at the pier?” You inquire carefully, remembering Bradley’s exact argument of it being too hot and too boring.

“Yeah, no—a bit, I guess. But, no one had ever been waiting for me, you know?” He leans his forehead against the heel of his hand. “I went through all those rites of passage in the Navy by myself, just me. I thought I was fine with that.”

You regard him carefully as he still stares ahead, but you’re not sure he actually sees anything.

“I mean, none of my friends or girlfriends ever came. Sure as shit never invited them.” He just drops that casually into the conversation as you feel your eyebrows pull into a slight frown. “I guess none of them were tenacious enough,”

His eyes finally meet yours as he grins.

“Or pigheaded enough to just go find everything out and show up.”

You scoff lightly, a grin pulling at the side of your mouth. “You say that as if you didn’t want me to be there.”

“No, no, darlin'—I fucking loved it.”

“Do you think you are that undeserving?” Your question cuts sharply through the conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“You say I was pigheaded for showing up, but you were just as pigheaded for not inviting me—or anyone for that matter.” You cock an eyebrow. “So don’t you think you deserve anyone to wait for you?”

Bradley sighs heavily.

“I suppose—I guess because there might be a day I don’t walk off that ramp, and I thought it would be easier if no one is waiting.”

“You believe that to be the inevitable outcome?” You intone mildly.

“No, no—I just…” You can tell by his manner, Bradley is getting frustrated.

You’re digging.

Back off.

Let him take the lead.

“I’ll wait for you here at home or on the pier—wherever you want me to be.” You sooth.

“I’m sorry.” Bradley apologizes softly. “I don’t mean to be so dark about it.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You reply. “We don’t have to talk about it now. We have plenty of your pictures to go through.” You joke lightly, before adding more solemnly: “And we’re here for each other. That matters.”

“That’s all that matters” Bradley replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a few moments of silence, you look through the next pages of the album. Bradley’s mom’s neat script shortly commentates every milestone. She clearly took a lot of care in making the album and took pictures prolifically.

Back then—before the age of video calls and digital photography—you suppose it was the only way to document everything that had been happening at home while Bradley’s dad was away.

“Your mom is so pretty.” You lightly trace the edge of the photo, adding: “I can see where you got your looks from.”

Bradley chuckles in response. “You should see my dad—wait -” He leans forward to grab another album from the box. As he lifts it out, pictures slide from the pages, falling out of the bottom. You quickly sit up, helping Bradley tilt the album on its side, so the pictures top falling.

“For fuck’s sake.” He sighs, annoyed.

You pluck the pictures that fell out of the box. They are wedding pictures of Bradley’s parents—they look resplendent, both dressed in white, smiling broadly. They are an incredibly good-looking couple. It strikes you how much Bradley looks like his dad—tall, generous smile, and of course the mustache. He looks dashing in his Navy whites, the same way Bradley does.

“You really look a lot like your dad.” You say pensively. “But I definitely see your mom in you too.”

“Mav used to tell me how much I resembled my dad when I was growing up.” Bradley carefully cracks open the album to straighten some loose photos. “I always took a lot of pride in that. Recently, he mentioned my temper is definitely my mom’s.” He chuckles dryly.

Carefully, you tuck one of the photos that fell out between the empty page. “Do you agree?”

“My mom…she—she always kept up a brave face.” Bradley shrugs somewhat uncomfortably. “She would never get really mad or sad, even though… she was. She would always hide it from me.” He slowly leaves through the album, eyes running over the pictures of the happy couple. “All the way to the end.”

Bradley pauses for a moment, as you tuck the other picture that fell out on another empty page.

“I overheard my mom and Mav have an absolute blow-up argument at the hospital. That was months before she passed away— I’ve never heard her so angry, like, screaming at each other. They stopped arguing the moment I walked into the room.”

“I was nearly 18, not really a kid anymore, but mom never told me what they argued about. And even then, she would only cry when she thought I couldn’t hear.”

“It sounds like she was trying to protect you.” You supply kindly.

“I think she bottled everything up to the point of explosion.” Bradley sounds distant. “I guess I’m kind of the same way.”

“I still think…” Bradley swallows before continuing. “I believe that she never really got over my dad’s death. Mom would look at these pictures every day in the hospital, and I think she bottled up all her grief for so many years, it broke her heart for good.”

“I’m sorry, that’s really sad.” You say softly.

“I try not to think about it too much.” Bradley shrugs again, in a slightly more agitated manner. “It just makes me think about how she spent all those years grieving by herself and I couldn’t help her… was she ever happy again?”

There’s no answer to that question.

“I think you can be happy about things even when still feeling the loss, because it’ll always kind of be there, right?” You begin slowly. “And our mom still had you. From what I hear, she clearly loved you a lot, going to great lengths to protect you from her pain. Maybe your happiness became her happiness.”

“I hope it did.” Bradley sighs. Every page turned, every picture finally uncovered again, is like the weight is slowly rolling off him. Bottling up hurts. And it hurt for so long, the pain became a constant background noise. You’re right, he’s had moments of happiness despite the pain. Becoming a pilot despite the odds. Making it to TOPGUN. Surviving that mission. He’s been happy with you.

It’s mostly in hindsight that he’s aware of the grief he still has in him at every moment. Bottled up. Closing the wedding album, he traces his fingers over the cover. It’s a matter of perspective.

Ironically, he pushed the happiest memories into a dark corner—literally in the back of his closet—never looking it at them because he couldn’t separate the happiness from the grief. And maybe, they don’t need separating. You’re right, the loss will always be there, but that doesn’t mean the happiness of those moments disappears.

Ultimately, Bradley is becoming more and more sure of one thing. He couldn’t do this without you. He wouldn’t want to do this without you. Putting away the album, he wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you against him. You easily accept his gesture and lean into the hug, putting your arms around him.

Bradley realizes that today is the first time in many years he allowed himself to reach out to someone for comfort emotionally and physically and that it was so readily given to him. Finally, the ever-present pain seems to dull.

“Thank you for sharing all this with me.” You whisper against his neck.

“It feels right.” He admits. “Things just feel right with you.”

You can’t help but smile as press yourself into Bradley. You’ve struggled with how… right things feel with Bradley. Always aware with the looming of darkness in the back of your head that this thing might not be more than a blip on the radar. Just a temporary madness.

Like a knot being pulled loose, a new calmness anchors itself in you. It feels right. You can finally, unequivocally accept that.

Slowly untangling from each other, you talk about look through one of the pile of pictures. Bradley laughs as he talks about breaking his nose during a training game in middle school baseball after a pitcher from the opposing team nailed him in the face as he was batting. Convinced he did it on purpose, Bradley waited for him after the game and started a fight. Getting a black eye and detention to boot, he elected to call Mav to pick him up and go to the hospital, too embarrassed to call his mom.

“God, that dude was massive—had at least 50 pounds on me. I have no idea what I was thinking.” Bradley rubs his hand over his eyes, still laughing.

“What did Mitchell say about it?” You ask, laughing too.

“Mercifully very little—all he told me was to get my temper in check or to get stronger and learn how to fight better.” Bradley grins as he rummages through the box.

“Solid advice.” You drawl sarcastically. Although you haven’t worked with Mitchell much directly, you’ve seen plenty of him in action and his unorthodox method of leadership. You are not at all surprised he would tell a 12-year-old that.

Bradley suddenly stills as his hand comes upon an object of smooth wood. He tries to keep his breathing even - fuck.

He forgot this was in here.

You notice the sudden shift in Bradley’s demeanor, his hand half-hovering in the box, clutching an oddly shaped box. The moment you catch a glimpse of the dark polished walnut, the realization strikes you. It’s a display case with his father’s funeral flag and medals. Judging from Bradley’s reaction, it’s not a pleasant find.

“I - I -” The words are dying in Bradley’s throat. When he turns to you, you see the panic in his eyes. Carefully, you reach out to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. You don’t speak, leaving Bradley space to sort his thoughts and emotions.

He pulls out the display case, weighing in his hands hesitantly. He sits in silence, looking at the neatly folded flag behind the glass. Bradley swallows heavily, like he wants to say something, but the words won’t come. You rub your hand in soothing circles over his shoulder. You bite your lip to stop yourself from speaking. He needs this.

“My dad was Mav’s RIO.” Bradley’s voice is so soft, so broken, you would have missed his words if you had not been looking at him. “He died ejecting from their aircraft over the ocean.”

You move closer to Bradley.

“He just didn’t walk off the boat one day.” His fingers run over the wooden sides of the frame. “And I barely remember.”

Bradley pauses to steady himself.

“I don’t know where the stories from my mom and Mav start and my own memories end—like playing the piano. I know my dad used to teach me simple tunes, but I…” He trails off for a moment. “But I remember the piano gathering dust for several years a lot more, and my mom crying when I started taking lessons.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Bradley blink rapidly.

“You know…,” You lick your lips nervously, trying to choose your words with care. It kills you to see him like this. “Memories are just one aspect of remembering. We remember through our actions too.” You turn to look at Bradley. His eyes are wet, as he stubbornly stares at the display case.

“Whether it’s through telling those stories, pictures, or playing the piano,” You continue, voice gentle. “That’s how you keep memories alive.”

Bradley doesn’t reply, eyes still trained of the blue and white of the folded flag, fingers twitching.

In a sudden move, he pulls you against him, practically dragging you from your spot next to him into his lap. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers are digging into your flesh as he seems hell-bent on crushing you into him.

You let him.

You run your fingernails through the short hair on the back of his head comfortingly. Bradley is taking shaky breaths, his shoulders jerking lightly..

He can’t remember the last time he cried. Was it as his mom’s funeral? Or some time when he got way too drunk after boot camp? But now he can’t seem to stop himself. The tears just keep coming, like all the pain is suddenly fresh again.

You don’t say anything, and Bradley appreciates that. He presses himself into you like he wants to drown himself in you, trying to focus on your soft breathing to calm himself down.

You have no words to help Bradley feel better, but sometimes it’s not necessary to speak to offer comfort. So you sit like that together on the floor, wrapped up in each other. Time could have been standing still all around you, and you wouldn’t have noticed.

Eventually, slowly, Bradley’s breathing evens out. It’s like the atmosphere evens out with it—the final slivers of tension, the precarious balance of emotions and rawness in your hearts— start dissolving around you, leaving only love.

Bradley presses a kiss against your jaw and whispers a thank you.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, babe.” You chuckle, hugging him a bit tighter against you.

“I’m thankful for you.” He replies sincerely, pressing more kisses against the column of your neck. You pull away a fraction to capture his lips with yours. Lightly biting down on his bottom lip, finally, he tilts his head in such a way that lets you deepen the kiss. You can’t even describe how much you need this: to feel Bradley again.

Gracelessly, you try to get up while guiding Bradley up with you without breaking the kiss. It’s a mess of limbs and hurried movements. You stumble as your foot gives out from under you, nearly falling onto the sofa. Bradley easily catches you.

“Fuck - my foot is asleep.” You wince as the pins and needles shoot up your ankle.

Bradley laughs. Light dances in his eyes as he hoists you up, legs wrapped around his waist. Seeing him like this makes your heart soar.

“Don’t let go of me.” He warns you, still smiling.

“I can’t.” You echo. “I don’t think I ever can.”

With practiced ease, Bradley steers you both to the bedroom. You’ve spent the evening in the past and you need to get back to the present to ground yourself in each other.

The bedroom is a mess; sheets crumpled, pillows strewn around the bed. But neither of you cares. Bradley gently lays you down on the bed, your legs still hooked around his hips while he rests one knee on the mattress for stability.

His hands run up your sides, bunching up the silk of your blouse. Your breathing gets heavier as you feel his large warm hands through the fabric. Your fingers dance up his forearms, past his elbows, over the rippling muscles of his upper arms, pulling yourself up by his shoulders as you sit up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Gently grabbing one of your wrists, Bradley slowly lays you back down.

“Let me take care of you now, darlin’.” He practically purrs. A giggle escapes you as his lips latch onto the column of your throat, his thumb running over the erratic pulse point on your wrist.

You sigh as you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel even more. Bradley’s free hand is deftly undoing the buttons of your self-proclaimed armor. Arching your back off the mattress, brushing your bra-clad breasts against his chest, the silk shimmies off your body.

Momentarily leaning back, Bradley easily shrugs off his own shirt as you pull your arms from the sleeves—both garments end up somewhere in the dark of the room. Not missing a beat, you trail kisses up his broad chest towards his neck. Lightly biting down on Bradley’s collarbone, he hisses. You love that sound.

Fingers brushing down his stomach, you feel his muscles move under your feather-light touch as you reach the waistband of his jeans. Before you can do anything else, Bradley swipes your hands away, smoothly bringing them over your head and pinning them down.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your lips, free hand undoing the button of your slacks, and slipping into your panties. “I’ll take care of you.”

You moan in response. Bradley wastes no time running his fingers up your slit, rubbing your clit at a tortuously slow pace. He knows your body almost as well as you do yourself; keenly feeling when to speed up, add pressure, mapping out every sensitive spot.

Your hands twitch, but Bradley doesn’t yield his grasp on your wrists. His lips travel down from your jaw, over your throat, nipping on your collarbone, down to the lace edge of your bra. The sensation of his hot breath through the thin fabric makes your head spin. You arch your back, trying desperately to maximize contact.

“Plea- please.” You beg in a whisper. Bradley just grins as he gently nips at the flesh of your breast. He has a need a regain control, a push to assure you, but mostly himself, that despite your relationship fundamentally changing with new emotional depths he never explored with anyone like that before, he is still him.

He plunges two fingers into you, his thumb on your clit finally speeding up. Bradley leans back up just a little, hearing you whimper at the loss of contact, so he can take a good look as your body moves under him—hair mussed, blush spreading down your chest, breathing heavily as you buck up against his hand.

Fuck, you look so good, you feel so good.

And you’re like that just for him.

Your eyes search Bradley's—pupils blown, dark with desire, a light blush dusts his cheeks—they are filled with warmth. Love. You tilt your hips up, muscles taut, as the pressure starts building in you. Bradley immediately responds to you without needing a single word, knowing exactly what you need: his fingers hooking up in you, moving in tandem with his thumb. It tears an incoherent moan from you.

Finally he releases your wrists and without hesitation your hands tangle into his curls, pulling his mouth to yours non-too gently. As he leans over you, never missing a beat, pumping his fingers in your pussy relentlessly, he uses his other hand to push away the lace of your bra. His fingers immediately pinch and pull your nipple, adding to the building pressure in you.

“Bradley…” You moan unabashedly. His skin is so hot under your touch, everything about him sets you aflame. You buck your hips harder, feeling so close already. Bradley drags his teeth along your collarbone, stopping at the pulse point at your neck, and biting down.

You scream out in ecstasy, your muscles coiling tight, wrapping yourself around Bradley, pulling him along in your wave. Bradley’s mouth crashes into yours, swallowing your scream. As your cresting wave makes landfall, a calm settles back into your tired bones, and suddenly tears spring up behind your closed eyelids. Bradley is still kissing you deeply, his tongue moving against yours, devouring every thought.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your teary eyes meeting his for a few seconds. As he hovers above you, you take every bit of Bradley in. Your muddled brain tries to come to a coherent thought, but in the end, you feel it more than you can formulate it.

You are the luckiest girl alive.

Hands moving of their own accord, you reach for Bradley, nails lightly raking down his chest. Bradley pulls you up with him, cradling your face in his hands as he presses a kiss on your lips. You pop the button of his jeans, sliding your hands down his boxer shorts. Grasping his rock hard shaft, you start pumping slowly. Bradley groans as he nibbles your bottom lip.

“I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He teases.

You giggle softly. “But I want you.”

Bradley only responds by unclasping your bra and sliding it down your arms. You press yourself against him, wanting to feel him against you. His hand is massaging your breast, tweaking your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Skimming his fingers down your sides, he tugs your slacks and underwear down your legs in one smooth gesture. They end up somewhere in the darkness of the room, along with the rest of your clothes. You push his pants down his thighs—he easily steps out of them and you pull him with you onto the bed.

His hot mouth is on your tits, as you palm his cock.

“I need you inside me.” You breathe. Bradley doesn’t respond at first, kissing and nipping his way down your body.

“I’m still not done with you.” His breath is hot against your soaking pussy. You whimper, blindly reaching for his hair as his tongue presses against your still-sensitive clit. Hooking your knee over his shoulder, using the leverage to tilt your pelvis just so, you know you’re not going to last very long under his assault. He squeezes your thigh as you tug his hair painfully. You roll your hips against Bradley’s face, setting a much-needed feverish pace. He acquiesces, tongue flicking against your clit without break, tearing a litany of swears from you.

“F- fuck, Bradley - don’t stop,” You beg, breathlessly. “You’re so fucking good.”

His free hand harshly squeezes your breast, pinching and manipulating the nipple as he hums—you feel the deep vibrations go through your core. Your body feels electrified, the pressure building in you from Bradley’s onslaught. He can feel your body stiffening, hips jerking, breath quickening. He knows you’re close, and he wants to pull you over the edge of pleasure.

You are mumbling incoherently, Bradley’s name on your lips like a prayer, as the coil in your stomach is wound almost painfully. Just a little bit more. He is relentless in his mission, tongue lashing against you. Splaying his hand on your lower stomach, Bradley stills your hips, building the anticipation even more.

Just when you think you cannot take it anymore, the coil in you springs. You cannot even begin to care how loud you are right now. Bradley is still holding you down, his mouth buried in your pussy as you cum, moans filling the room.

It feels like your breath has been ripped from your lungs. You are only vaguely aware of the tears leaking from your screwed-shut eyelids—your brain feels like it has been disconnected from your body completely, static electricity flickering through your veins.

“Fuck, darlin’…” Bradley is panting. His voice is suddenly close, concerned. “Hey, are you okay?” His finger trails down the wet streak down your cheek.

Slowly opening your eyes, colorful spots filing your vision, you look up at Bradley. You don’t know why there are tears on your face. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, but you aren’t sad in any way.

“I’m okay.” You croak, softly pressing your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. “You just completely blew my mind.” You joke lightly.

“I’ll accept that reason.” Bradley grins. “Do you need a break?”

You shake your head almost petulantly. “No, I need you.”

“Please.” You add softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want Bradley close.

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. “Anything for you.”

He slides his cock into your slick pussy, drenched in your own cum, in one swift motion, filling you to the hilt. You moan as Bradley swears under his breath.

“Fu- fuck, darlin’, you feel so, so good.” His voice is deep, rough, and so close, his mustache is brushing against the shell of your ear – it’s sending shivers down your spine.

Bradley sets a slow, almost leisurely pace. He wants to savor this; your blushing face, glassy eyes looking up at him as you wrap yourself around him. Your look of love. This is how he wants you committed to his memory forever, and quietly wishes this would be the look he would see in his dreams.

In the meantime, he will make to be worthy of that look every day. So you will look at him like that every day. Only at him. Your fingers are running down the side of his face, a small smile gracing your lips. He grabs your hand and presses a kiss against your palm before intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing your hand as he rolls his hips against you.

It feels so intimate. So much more intimate than ever before.

You always tried to be strong, but you had also shown your vulnerability and insecurities to him. You cried, you were angry, your hands shook when you unbuttoned his shirt. Now that you know him, arguably better than almost anyone else, Bradley cannot help but feel like the axis has tilted. He trusts you. With himself, with his pain and his love.

Admitting and accepting that makes everything so much clearer.

“I love you.” The words come out naturally. It’s a verbalization of what he’s been feeling for a long time now and saying the words is familiar, because really, he’s told you many times in many different ways already, just not with those words.

“I love you too.” You gasp. “S- so much.”

Leaning on his elbow, fingers still intertwined with yours, Bradley speeds up the pace—his cock driving into you hungrily. Your tits bounce deliciously every time he fills you to the hilt, your hips rising to meet his every move. He missed you so much, he knows he’s not going to last long.

You feel Bradley’s hips starting to stutter irregularly as he’s speeding up, a light sheen of sweat forming on his brow. Your nails rake over his back, tilting your hips for more friction. Bradley groans, brow furrowed as he searches for release.

“Will you cum for me?” You encourage sweetly. “Cum for me, Bradley, I need you.”

How can he refuse, when you ask him like that?

Bradley pounds into you, your moans and his swears filling the room. He squeezes your hand painfully, as he closes his eyes for a moment, never losing the relentless pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close.” He grinds out.

“Please, Bradley -” You beg in a whispery voice.

Bradley moans loudly, swearing as his movements turn erratic, trusts turning irregular until his hips stutter to a halt. Breathing heavily, he rests his forehead against yours—your breath mingling before his body slowly sinks into yours. Together you lay there in a bubble of contentment, between the messy sheets, clothes strewn around and the chaos of your week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darlin’, are you awake?”

You blink heavily against the sunlight streaming into the room. You went out like a light last night. Both Bradley and you were so exhausted from everything that happened that week, you pretty much fell asleep on top of each other. You only managed to go to the bathroom before completely conking out, Bradley was already fast asleep by them.

“Wha- what time is it?” You ask, voice thick with sleep. It’s only as you gain some awareness of your surroundings, you notice Bradley is not in bed with you anymore, rather standing next to it, bent over you. He’s dressed in only his boxers, while you are still naked under the covers.

“It’s a little past 11.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your temple. Fuck, that late? “But more pressingly, sweetheart; you don’t have any coffee. Actually, you don’t have much of anything in the house.”

Oops.

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to go shopping.” You mumble, rubbing your eyes.

“And here I was going to make you breakfast.” Bradley teases. “Come on, get up. At least let me take you out.”

“I need to shower,” You yawn, scratching your head. “Ugh, and wash my hair.”

“Well, let’s go take care of that.” Bradley grins, as he scoops you up from the bed, causing you to squeal in delight as you scramble to grab onto him. He effortlessly pulls you up from the bed, the covers still wrapped around you. You laugh together as he carries you out of the bedroom.

The shower take way too long—mostly because you spent less time washing, and more time pinned against the tile wall, moaning in ecstasy. Gasping for breath, wetter from sweat than water and Bradley’s cum dripping down your thighs, you end up kicking him out of the shower. You’re going to be stuck there for the rest of the day and your water bill will be through the roof. He leaves you with a wink.

You make quick work of washing your hair, lathering it with conditioner and shaving for good measure. Hair wrapped in a towel, you get dressed in comfortable jeans and a simple cotton shirt. You’re going to need to blow dry it before you go out—also you should really do your makeup. The bruise is slowly getting over the worst of it, but it’s still pretty visible.

Head bent down, rubbing the towel through your hair, you walk into the living room. From the corner of your eye, you see Bradley sitting on the couch, fully dressed already. “Babe, are we really out of all coffee?” You’re dying for a cup.

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you look up, holding the towel up from your face. Bradley is gingerly holding his parent’s wedding album, carefully moving the loose pictures into place.

“Do you think it’s fixable?” His voice is quiet. “It was my mom’s favorite album.”

You blink, before rewrapping your hair and sitting down next to him. Carefully, you pick up one of the pictures and inspect it.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this happen a lot with picture collections we get. It looks like the glue disintegrated.” You note as you look at the back of the photo. As you suspect, the glue in the corners has left only brown residue and has long-lost its function. “We do restorations regularly—well not me, per se, I did it as part of my rotations as an intern—but it can be anything from humidity, or just a bad batch of glue…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

“Can you fix it?”

“Me?” You cannot hide your surprise at his request. “I mean—I can get some of the supplies we use at work.” You regard Bradley carefully. “Do you want me to do that?”

“Yeah…” He sighs. “I’m kind of… scared I’ll ruin it.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “And you’re the archivist here.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not really a conservation specialist, but I’ll do my best.” You reply earnestly. This feels like a pretty serious responsibility. “I’ll get some special glue, and maybe some protective sleeves and smaller boxes to store all the other loose photos, okay?”

You smile lightly at him, feeling a blush creep up. The way Bradley puts his trust in you to care for the last tangible memories he has from his parents gives you butterflies. “Your mom did such a great job dating all the photos, I can order them for you.”

You pause for a moment.

“If you want, that is.” You backtrack, unsure. This is not a history project, it’s not an anonymous donation to archives from someone’s estate, these are Bradley’s memories. It should be his choice. “I will do what I can to help you.”

“Thanks sweetheart.” He carefully closes the album. “I trust you completely with this—you know so much better than I how to care for all these things.”

“But they are still your memories.” You say, voice soft. “And in the end, you need to be happy with it.”

“You make me happy.” Bradley replies mischievously.

“You are impossible.” You grin, as move to get up.

“Impossibly in love with you?” He teases.

Okay. So it would be a complete lie if that doesn’t make your heart jump so hard it’s making your rib cage rattle as blood floods to your cheeks. Regardless of how fucking cheesy that is.

You try your best to shoot him a withering look, although it probably lacks power. Bradley is trying to get a reaction out of you. You can tell by that cheeky glint in his eye, the way his mouth is pulled in that cocky half-smirk and the casual figure he cuts, leaning back on the sofa; he knows he succeeded.

You just grunt in embarrassment, pulling the towel back over your face as you leg it out the room, leaving Bradley to enjoy his victory.

Bradley ends up taking you to a diner—which is fine by you, because regular refills on coffee is exactly what you need right now. You slide into a booth together, Bradley immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

If Bradley was tactile before, he’s turned it up to 11 today. Not that you are complaining. It feels like you need to fill up on everything Bradley—like you’ve lost precious time, even if it was just a week—before he leaves again.

Rationally, you know it’s only a month. He’s been gone for longer. You’ve been through this together. But it suddenly all feels strange again, a little bit apprehension under the surface, as you see your connection in a new light full of new heights and depths. It never felt better, but this time being apart will be different from before.

You eat your breakfast in relative silence—honestly, after the first bite of your blueberry pancakes, you realize how much you are starving. You lean back against Bradley, nursing your coffee.

“Hey babe,” You start, looking up at him through your lashes. “You’re flying out to Texas on Tuesday, right?”

Bradley nods. “Yeah, about that…” He trails off, while he fidgets with his mug. “No, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What?” You sit up, looking at him curiously. The tips of his ears are red as he avoids your gaze. “Come on, tell me.”

“I’m flying commercial, so I was thinking to change my ticket to fly out of D.C.”

“Won’t that be expensive, changing it so late?” You ask, not unkindly.

“Well-” Bradley hesitates, eyes roaming the room nervously. You are seriously wondering what has him out of sorts like this suddenly. “I was thinking you could drop me off at the airport Tuesday and take the Bronco. You can use it when I’m gone, it’s safer than your car anyway. It would make me feel better if you use my car.” He ends his sentence hurriedly: “And then you could come pick me up again whenigetback.”

Letting out a deep breath, Bradley continues, voice forced light. “But it’s stupid, you have work, and you’re right, it’s probably kind of late to change my ticket.”

“Hold on.” You cut in, gently placing your hand on his cheek and turning him to face you. “Babe. Do you want me to take you to the airport and pick you up when you get back?”

“Yes.” He replies earnestly. “But it’s such short notice, I don’t want you to get into trouble with work…”

“I’ll handle that, don’t worry.” You smile. “Of all places, the DoD will understand I have to say goodbye to my handsome naval aviator boyfriend because he’s leaving for a month.”

“I’d love to do that for you. I want to be there for you.” You tell him honestly. “And I’m not saying that just because you’re lending me your car for a whole month.” You add with a grin.

Bradley laughs loudly at that. His eyes crinkle, the apprehension suddenly leaving him. He presses a kiss against your lips. “I’ll be rebooking my ticket then.”

“You do that.” You smile—it means you will have him with you for two more days, instead of him leaving on Sunday already. Sometimes things just work out like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Bradley leaves for Texas, you spent your evenings going through the pictures from the box. Gently cleaning them, tucking them in protective sleeves and ordering them chronologically in new boxes where they won’t be thrown around so much.

As you clear out the box Bradley left you, you find small trinkets that must have been thrown in at some point. A small plastic soldier, scraps of paper, lots of dust. You clean everything and save everything that might be of worth in an envelope. It’s not up to you to throw anything away.

Stuck in the corner of the box, you find a pair of dog tags that belonged to Bradley’s father. They are smudged and dirty—you have no idea if that’s from being in the dusty box (which was stored god knows where for how long) or this is the way they were returned to the family.

You want to ask Bradley, but elect to do so when he is back. He calls you almost every day, but you notice his unease when you ask about objects from the box. It’s still difficult for him. And he tries so hard.

So instead, you order a flat, rectangular box through work, once that is specifically used to store small items. You fill it with soft foam, cut to measure, and carefully pin the dog tags into place. Bradley can decide what he wants to do with this later.

It’s late at night, almost halfway through Bradley’s training mission, you find something unexpected.

It’s a crushed ring box.

The hinges are rusted and twisted, the top of the box sitting at an awkward ninety-degree angle. It’s empty, the once soft fabric on the outside torn and stained. The button to open the box is loose in the socket, jiggling sadly with every movement.

It mostly likely got torn apart between the heavy albums between different moves, just loosely thrown in, unsecured in any way.

It doesn’t look like it can be salvaged. Not only that, but it’s beyond your skill, that’s for sure. Still, you carefully place it in an envelope. Maybe you can ask someone at work if they know someone (a jeweler? A carpenter? Who actually repairs things like these?), although it looks like a commercially produced box. Getting it restored will probably cost a lot more than getting a new one. But this is not your decision to make.

More importantly: there is a ring box, but no ring?

You should go to bed. But you cannot resist a good mystery. A missing puzzle piece.

It’s late, so Bradley is probably already asleep. He mentioned he has an early start tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb him. But you also don’t want to wait almost two weeks before you can ask about the missing ring.

You take out the last items from the box—it’s as good as empty now.

You use the torch on your phone to get a better look, fingers running along the edges of the cardboard. There’s a dust bunny, a few scraps of paper and what looks like a lone Lego brick. No ring.

Carefully peeling back the flaps on the bottom, you lean closer for a better look. Still nothing. You wiggle your hand under the flap, fingers exploring every nook and cranny. Your hand is getting coated in dust and what feels like grains of sand.

Yuck.

Still no luck.

Maybe there is no ring, and it’s been long lost between Bradley’s moves.

But that’s kind of boring.

Putting your phone away, you sit back, rocking on your heels.

Fuck this.

You flip the box over, shaking it with some vigor. Sand, dust and Lego hit the floor with soft thuds. Suddenly, a soft-

Ting.

Metal hitting the wooden floor.

Ting.

It bounces.

Quickly, you push the box out of the way.

There, between the dust and the grime, landed a golden ring. The almond shaped topaz, set between two smaller diamonds, glitters like the sun, even under the artificial light of your living room light.

Carefully picking it up, you study it. Like everything in the box, it’s kind of dirty and scuffed. As you look at it—it is a beautiful ring—it dawns on you. It looks familiar.

But… from where?

Oh fuck.

Pulling out the wedding album, you flip the pages until you find the picture you are looking for. You’ve spent a better part of a week, every evening after work (sometimes while on the phone with Bradley), carefully peeling the pictures off the page and painstakingly reapplying them until your back hurt. You’ve gotten plenty familiar with every photo.

There it is.

Bradley’s parents, in close up, smiling at each other lovingly. But more importantly, her hand is resting on his shoulder, and there, clear as day, sits that exact ring.

It’s his mother’s engagement ring.

Suddenly, your heart is beating so loudly, you can barely hear yourself think. You know Bradley didn’t leave it in there for you to find. Hell, considering the state it’s in, he probably forgot it was in there in the first place.

But.

You cannot deny that you’ve not allowed yourself a little dream here and there. In the long term, you indulge in the fantasy of getting married to Bradley. Would Bradley marry you? You’ve never talked about marriage, or kids, together.

Finding this ring now sets your mind into overdrive. He would look so good in his formal uniform. He would kiss you so sweetly at the alt- oooh, this is bad.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Okay. Focus on the practicals.

The ring box is busted, so you need to find a place to store the ring. You could order a new ring box online, but you don’t want the ring to just lie around your desk in the meantime.

It feels a bit too forward to place it in your own jewelry box. It’s not yours, it shouldn’t be there. The only other place… the box with the dog tags.

Your breath sounds loud in the otherwise silent room—adrenaline is still coursing through your veins as you open the small box. With the thin blade you use to lift pictures off the page, you slice a small slit into the foam, next to the dog tags.

The ring slides in easily, glinting happily in the light, cozily tucked next to the dog tags.

It looks… right, you decide.

You close the little box lovingly.

It feels right, having them together like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today is the day. You are bouncing on your heels, trying to see over the crowd of people in the arrival hall.

You’ve checked signs at the exit at least a dozen times. It’s really this exit. Every 30 seconds, your eyes flicker over to the display—no, the arrival hall for Bradley’s flight hasn’t changed, yes, it’s still the same exit. The airport app only confirms it.

You fidget with the belt of your light trench coat.

Why are you so nervous?

It’s only been a month.

You’ve arrived too early—Bradley’s plane hasn’t even landed yet. But you’ve been having this dreadful, horror-filled premonition you’d be late—when he finally asked you to wait for him.

You can’t fuck this up.

But now you’re here, a good 20 minutes early, nervously shifting your weight from foot to foot, watching people around you mill about. Weary travelers rush past you to taxis, while people have small and big reunions, and designated airport pick-ups hold signs with bored expressions.

It’s torture.

You should have brought a book. Or at least your AirPods or something. Anything to distract you from looking at the clock every 5-odd seconds, getting distracted by every announcement made, and ultimately disappointed every time with how slowly time is going.

Trying to stop yourself from pacing like an absolute madwoman in front of the exit, you stroll around the shops in the arrival halls—always in the line of sight of one of the information displays. Not that anything changes.

Listlessly you page through cheap romance novels, read a couple of headlines on the magazine rack and inspect small trinkets. There is a particularly unfortunate-looking plastic model of the Washington monument, leaning precariously forward like it’s in a tower of Pisa contest (you almost buy it because you feel so bad for it).

Unfortunately, that’s only 5 minutes gone.

You recheck your pockets for what must be the 348th time today. Phone, house keys, car keys. Chapstick, chewing gum, wallet. Everything is still there.

You walk past the flower stand, where big bouquets and bunches of roses in vibrant colors contrast starkly against the gray marble airport tiling. Aluminum balloons swing softly as people rush home. The smell of overpriced cheesy pastries wafts through the air.

You quickly stop by the bathroom—brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The bruise on your face has long disappeared. You look fine.

It’s too cold for the summer dress Bradley seems to favor, so you’ve opted for a wrap dress with longer sleeves that is more appropriate for the weather. You like to think that cut flatters you. You look good.

Slipping your hand back into the pockets of your coat, you slowly head back to the exit. Still no change on the display.

You repeat two more slow rounds around the shops, trying not to look like a total weirdo, when the display finally shows Bradley’s plane has landed. Faster than necessary, you leg it back to the exit, as if he could come out any minute. Yes, you know he still needs to make it off the plane, wait for his luggage, and then walk all the way where you are waiting but Bradley is here.

You’re about to burst with anticipation, hands clasped around your phone that you hold up to your chest because you don’t think you can stop fidgeting otherwise, and because it feels like your heart might leap straight out.

“waiting for luggage x”

Bradley’s message is simple and to the point, but makes you feel like you might just float above the crowd in front of you and straight into his arms.

He is so close.

Every time the sliding doors open and people file out, you bounce onto your tiptoes to see that familiar head of caramel curls with that confidently easy-going gait and that cocky smile that makes you weak at the knees. Bradley knows exactly the effect he has on you, and you’ve decided to just own it.

Fuck it, you’re in love.

And you know it’s mutual.

It’s like you’ve developed a sixth sense for Bradley. The moment the sliding doors open again, you feel him before you see him. He’s here.

Bradley’s stance is confident in his crisp khaki uniform as he steps out, not faltering for a second —but his eyes are scanning the crowd nervously. You stand rooted to the ground for one second before your brain jolts you into action: he’s looking for you.

Bradley’s heart is beating anxiously—where are you? — when, your voice rings out over all the noise around, clear as a bell.

“Bradley!”

You are weaving through the crowd, about 90 feet away, trying to get past the horde of people waiting as quickly and somewhat as politely as possible. He can see your shining eyes even from the distance: they are his beacon home.

Unceremoniously, he drops his bag on the floor, not really caring it’s in the middle of the path. He only has eyes for you now.

Finally, you break free from the line, running forward with your arms outstretched. Before you can take two steps, Bradley is running up to you.

You crash into each other, Bradley lifting you off your feet in one fell swoop. You wrap your legs around him, not really caring how the skirt of your dress is bunching up around your thighs. Your hands got to cradle Bradley’s face, lips inching close like you’re sharing a secret just between the two before you kiss him.

“Welcome home, lieutenant.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] aaaaand that it's for the main story. Almost. There is still an epilogue in the works where I'll try to tie up some of the leftover threads. Plus there's one side story that I'm particularly excited to write. Soon I'll probably take some time to thoroughly edit the story. I know for a fact some story elements fell a little to the wayside, and not everything works quite like I wanted it to (let alone that some sentences read like I've had a stroke half-way through).

Thank you for reading. Thank you for all the comments and encouragement. Thank you for helping me re-discover that writing can still be fun and it's okay to self-indulge. Ultimately, I hope my story brought you some joy!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader

168 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 months

Text

The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Avoidance

Percy Weasley x OC

Description: Percy Weasley has been avoiding her and that will certainly not do.

Percy had been acting weird, not normal Percy weird, more like nervous schoolboy weird. And while Percy behaving strangely wouldn’t have worried Elle any other year, this year it was getting in her way. He was supposed to be her distraction, instead he was avoiding her. She was sure he couldn’t still be annoyed about her disappearing a few days ago. His kiss was enough to prove that. Yet, since then he hadn’t said a word, and ignored her invitations. She yanked her jumper over her head so hard it ripped. It was all she could do not to scream.

As she changed one black jumper to the next, she glanced out the window at the pouring rain. It was only one more thing to glare about. First Quidditch match of the year and she was going to be working in the rain, without warm lips to come back to.

“Hurry up, I want a good seat,” Dinah called.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Elle responded stepping out of the bathroom and grabbing her slicker.

“Wow, that’s some incredible house spirit,” Dinah said, noting her black jumper.

“I’m neutral.”

“Sure, until we win and then you drink like the rest of us.”

“Details, details.”

“Just make sure you take care of our team faster than theirs. I have a bet with Quinn, and I do not have the funds for a loss.” Elle rolled her eyes; this was the same conversation they had before every Quidditch match since Elle had started working for Madam Pomfrey in her fourth year.

“Do you want me to promise and lie, or just stay quiet.” Dinah only smacked her with her umbrella in response. “What’s the bet today?”

“Hufflepuff wins due to Gryffindor losing its seeker to an unforeseen injury.”

“You really have to stop betting on details and stick to just the winner.”

“Harry hasn’t been injured for ages.”

“Have you seen the weather; you could be injured in that storm.”

“It’s not that bad,” Dinah says as they pushed the door open, stepping into the torrent outside. The heavy oak pushed them back as the rain instantly soaked them.

“You were saying?” Elle yelled over the wind.

“Shut up,” Dinah yelled back, ducking her head as they marched towards the Quidditch pitch. They were halfway to the pitch when Elle realized she had left her wand sitting on the windowsill by her bed.

“Fuck, I forgot my wand,” she yelled.

“What?”

“I forgot my wand,” she yelled again, making a motion with her hand. “I’ll see you after the game.” Dinah waved her away as she continued her trek towards the pitch. Elle turned and ran back towards the castle, the wind pushing against her back all the way. She yanked open the doors and smacked right into the boy who had been avoiding her. His eyes widened and she accidentally glared.

“Elle-.”

“Move it Weasley, I’m on a deadline.”

“Wait-.”

“No, you’ll have to wait, I forgot my wand,” she growled pushing past him.

“Accio wand,” he announced, “Now, do you have a moment?” She whipped around. He’d been avoiding her, and now he had time to talk.

“Listen here, Percy Weasley, I don’t know who you think you are but-.” And then he was kissing her, right in the middle of the corridor, as if he didn’t give a damn about who came around the corner. She yanked herself away despite not wanting to.

“I’m sorry, they’ve got me following Potter. I haven’t been able to get away,” he said, catching her wand before handing it to her. She licked her teeth and glanced over her shoulder for anyone who might be watching, and then grabbed him by the tie kissing him again. When she pulled away, they were both grinning.

“Restricted section, after the game?” He kissed her again and she took that as a resounding yes. He pushed open the door for her and they both stepped back into the pouring rain that didn’t seem as cold as it did before.

When they reached the pitch, they waved their goodbyes and she slipped into the locker room, searching for Wood. She passed the girls changing and marched into the boy’s locker room.

“Wood!” she hollered, peaking around corners. She ran into the twins who both grinned but pointed her in the right direction without a suggestive comment from either, it seemed they remembered her threat from the last time they had crossed paths. “Wood.”

“Jesus Elle, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Oh shove it, I’m here to warn you.”

“About what?” he asked with a cocky grin and she slugged him in the arm.

“Listen, I know you like to take risks, don’t, not with the way it looks out there today.”

“Elle-.”

“Don’t argue with me. Just know there are two ways to fix broken bones, easy ways and hard ways, don’t make it the hard way.”

“You really know how write pep talk.”

“Shut up and win.” With that she walked out, noting Harry as she went and praying that Dinah would be winning money her bet today. She walked onto the pitch and winced at the spray of rain before finding Poppy in the medical tent.

“They shouldn’t be playing today,” the nurse fussed, and Elle nodded, glancing up at the sky.

“I couldn’t agree more.” She prepped everything they might need and sat at the edge of the tent, just out of reach of the rain. As she waited for the players to enter the arena she searched for Percy among the crowds. It wasn’t until Hufflepuff stepped out that she found his ginger curls whipping around in the wind, but she didn’t have long to stare before Madam Hooch tossed the quaffle into the air and the game began.

For being the worst weather she had ever seen, the first half of the game was without much injury. It seemed Wood had headed her warning (there was a first for everything). It wasn’t until the end of Katie Bell’s broom was struck with lightning that Elle was forced to make her way onto the field. She quickly put out the fire and checked the chaser over.

“All clear,” she yelled over the wind and then Katie was gone, back into the downpour the moment she was cleared. Elle returned to the tent only to run back out a few moments later as one of the Hufflepuff beaters was struck by lightning and came crashing down.

He wasn’t getting back on his broom anytime soon. She dragged him and his broom through the mud towards the tent and then levitated him onto a stretcher. She poured a thick white mixture into a cup and tipped it against his lips. Even through unconsciousness his nose scrunched at the smell, but she tipped his head back and poured it down his throat anyway. She was checking him over when she heard the gasps from outside.

She rushed into the rain just in time to see Harry hit the ground and Hufflepuff win the game. It seemed Quinn was going to be making her money today.

She dropped to her knees and checked for a pulse, shocked to find how cold he was. No bones seemed to be broken and he had only suffered from a few minor scrapes and bruises.

“Poppy,” she hollered over the rain, “Bring the stretcher.” She raised the boy onto the stretcher and glanced wearily around at the students watching her. She yanked her attention away from them and back to Harry. “We need to get him warm, but other that he should be fine. Someone stopped him from hitting the ground hard enough for it to cause any damage.” Poppy nodded as she levitated the stretcher towards the castle. Elle rushed back inside and waited for the rest of the teams to wander through for their checks.

No one seemed particularly cheerful as they wandered through her tent. Whether that was the loss or the dementors she couldn’t be sure, but from the gloomy looks on the Hufflepuff team’s faces she guessed the latter. Everyone seemed to be fine but she asked Katie to stop by the Hospital Wing for a quick check up, just to make sure, and then levitated the Hufflepuff boy back to the castle.

Both teams had beat her back, and the Hufflepuffs were waiting patiently for their teammate.

“He should be awake in a few minutes,” she assured them before finding Poppy. The nurse sent her away, assuring her that there was nothing more she could do. She checked just to make sure, but Poppy had no problem swatting her away from patients either. She grinned and turned, doing her best not to sprint out of the Hospital Wing and towards the Restricted Section. However, she was intercepted on her way by a pair of cold hands and warm lips.

“I thought we agreed the Restricted Section?”

“Too far,” he murmured against her lips, locking the door behind him before pushing her against it. “How long will he be in the Hospital Wing?”

“A couple more hours at least.”

“Perfect,” he said before pulling her close again. He was almost as famished as she was as he hoisted her up and set her on a desk. His hands slipped beneath her jumper and she jumped at the cold tips of his fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Your hands are just cold,” she laughed grabbing his hands in hers and blowing softy. She could feel him shiver against her breath. She glanced up to meet his eyes before dropping his hands to cup his face before kissing him again. Warmer hands dropped back to the hem of her jumper before finding her skin once more. This time, instead of jumping away, she leaned in closer, relishing the feeling of his fingers creeping along the dips of her stomach. He peeled off her jumper and goosebumps followed his touch to the band of her bra.

She tilted her head as his lips found her neck and tugged on his curls, still damp from the rain. She was vaguely aware of his fingers tracing the band around to the clasp. He fumbled with it before giving up and simply resting his hand beneath the fabric. His other hand found her thigh, pulling it up against his waist. The denim stretched against the apex of her thighs as he pulled her closer.

“Elle,” he whispered against her skin and she pushed him away only to pull his lips to hers.

“Never again Percy Weasley, you hear me?” she asked against his lips, but he only cocked his hand in confusion. He pulled his hands away, as if he had done something wrong, but she caught him before he could fully retreat. “Never again will you ditch me like that,” she said before kissing him again. She pulled away once more to study his face, “Do you understand me?”

“Crystal clear.”

Excellent,” she laughed, emphasizing her pleasure with a harsh kiss to his jaw. She traced her thumb over the spot where she had kissed him moments before. “Excellent,” she repeated.

“You’re excellent, and trust me, if I’m stupid enough to disappear again I will cast the curse for you.” She grinned and wrapped her legs around his waist, yanking him closer. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she breathed him in, drowning in the euphoria of warm lips while thunder crashed around them.

taglist: @andromedasstarship @danadeacon

#percy weasley imagines #percy weasley #percy weasley fanfic #percy weasley x reader #percy weasley fanfiction #percy weasley x oc #percy weasley smut #percy weasley fluff #percy weasley angst

34 notes · View notes

callsignspark · 8 months

Text

Mar[r]y Me - part seven

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, if you read these be warned that the last little bit will probably make you want to yell at me, ignore the fact that the mentioned tswift song wasn't out in 2021, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 4.8k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it’s here! part seven!! I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks, I hope you all have an amazing weekend!! (side note: this chapter means we've almost hit 50,000 words on this story??? what!!! thanks for all your support!)

part seven - pasta e piselli

C’mon, pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

Bradley repeats the plea over and over again in his head, staring at his own stressed expression on the Facetime call screen. He’s not sure why he’s worried; she’s picked up every other time he’s called.

Which has been every day this week, so far.

He’s just about to give up, figuring she’s still busy at work, when Mary answers.

“Happy Thurs-” Bradley stops when he realizes she’s on the phone, holding a finger up.

“Just hang on one second, Zia! No! I-” She speaks rapidly in another language, surprising Bradley, before pulling the phone away and bending closer to her iPad. “Sorry, I just need like ten minutes to get her off the phone, and then I’m all yours. I can call you back?”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just be here.” He returns her smile, only slightly distracted by the brief flash of lace he gets where her work shirt is unbuttoned.

Bradley watches her bustle around her hotel room, tidying up and throwing things in her suitcase as she talks on the phone. He gets comfortable on his couch, propping himself up on a mountain of pillows and letting the sweet sound of Mary’s voice wash over him. He’s pretty sure she’s talking to her aunt in Italian, based on the googling he did of the bits and pieces he was able to understand.

It’s sexy, he thinks, imagining what it would be like to have her whisper in his ear in Italian, even if he would have no idea what was being said.

“You would think the fact that she’s closing in on 100 would mean she would have less energy to talk, but somehow, she’s only gained strength over the years.”

His focus comes back to the screen, drifting away from the fantasy he was building in his head to find Mary smiling sweetly at him, her chin resting in her hand. “Hi.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

“You speak Italian.” She nods, saying something to him and laughing when he just looks confused. “What?”

“I said that you must have had a stressful day because your hair looks like your call sign, Mr. Rooster.”

“It’s not that bad!” A glance at his Facetime window tells him that his hair is sticking straight up. Of course, he can’t admit that it’s from running his hands through it during his minor panic that she wouldn’t pick up and then while dreaming about having her on his lap. “Okay. I’ve had better hair days. But back to you, Italian?”

“Yeah, my whole family speaks it to varying degrees. The first few generations - on both sides - spoke very little English, if any at all. My parents and their siblings are the first generation that you could consider fully fluent in English. I had older relatives that only spoke Italian live with my family growing up, so I was a bilingual baby.”

“Was it hard to learn English?”

“Not really? Our house was English first, Italian second whenever possible, so I picked both up pretty quick.”

“That’s so cool! I took Spanish in high school, but I really only remember how to ask about the library. Donde está la biblioteca?” They laugh at his poor pronunciation. “So, how was your day?”

“It was good! Very productive; with all the meetings today, I finally had enough time to finish my program review slides! So tomorrow, I can fully focus on outfitting the last three jets. The team up here understood the upgrade really quickly, which is encouraging. It means the training pipeline that Dave put in place is working.”

“That’s good. What uh- what are you doing now?” Bradley’s mouth goes dry as he watches Mary unbutton her shirt, slipping it off to reveal a white camisole that clings to her in all the right places.

“Some of the people I worked with in Florida are here for training and program review prep! And we finally all have a free evening, so we’re going to dinner! I want to wear that shirt tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to get makeup on it while I’m retouching.”

“That sounds fun.” He can hear how rough his voice is, heart thumping when he watches her eyes dart to his, a light pink appearing on the apples of her round cheeks.

“How was your day?”

He tucks an arm behind his head, watching her freshen her makeup and telling her about the antics the Dagger Squad had gotten up to without her. It had been a light day; everyone got grounded due to rain, so Cyclone had them act as guinea pigs for a new training regiment the Navy is considering. They had, of course, gotten too competitive about it and completely over-performed the expected standards. Admiral Simpson was so frustrated that he let them go early, banning them from his sight for the rest of the day.

“He really swore at you guys?!” Mary laughs, swiping something shiny over her lips.

“He did! And he did that thing where he gets so mad his face turns red, and it looks like that vein in his neck is going to rupture!”

“You guys are going to kill that man.”

“It’s Mav’s fault. He taught us the right buttons to push.” Bradley shrugs when Mary raises a doubtful eyebrow at him, a laugh threatening to break through.

“I only half believe that some of you are quite annoying all on your own.”

“Wow, hurtful.”

She giggles at his dramatic chest grab. “I didn’t name names; if you took offense, that’s your own fault. Does my makeup look okay? Any places need fixing?”

Mary holds the tablet up to her face, closing her eyes to show off her makeup. Bradley takes the quiet moment to admire her. She’s never really been one to wear much makeup, but every time she does, it just enhances her beauty.

“You look great.” He holds back all the compliments and praise he wants to shower her with, reminding himself they’re not quite there yet, choosing to add some helpful feedback instead. “You do have some mascara on your right eyelid, though.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ll clean that up when I change.” She walks over to the closet, pulling out two dresses. “Which one for dinner?”

“The red one.” He answers with zero hesitation. He loves red on her; the color always looks so good against her tanned skin.

She hums, holding the dress against herself and looking in the mirror. “Yeah, good choice. I’m gonna ch-”

Mary shrieks as a door flies open, and Harvard comes bursting in. “Are you ready yet?”

“Brigham! You’re only supposed to use that for emergencies!”

“I’m hungry, and I want to get going.”

“That is not an emergency! What if I was naked?!”

“I could hear Rooster’s big mouth; I knew you weren’t naked. C’mon! Get changed. I want to eat!”

Bradley sits there baffled as Mary throws the dress he didn’t pick at Harvard’s head, snapping at him to hang it up before slamming the bathroom door behind her.

Harvard does and then takes Mary’s seat, waving at Bradley with a big grin on his face, completely unaware of how Bradley is reeling inside. “Hey, man! What’s up? How’re you?”

He doesn’t break to let Rooster answer, rambling on about his week and the mentoring program Cyclone had sent him to work on. Bradley can only let it go on so long before he bursts. “How did you get in?”

At that exact moment, Mary reappears, the red fabric highlighting her tan and accentuating her curves, even better than he remembered it from the night they met. “We ended up with adjoining rooms.”

“We’re keeping them unlocked for emergency purposes, aka so I can make sure she actually has some fun while we’re here.” Harvard proudly announces.

“I was swindled; he’s got very convincing puppy dog eyes.” She ushers him out of her chair so she can slip her shoes on. “It’s like the little brother I never wanted.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

Mary looks at Bradley and rolls her eyes. “And yet he refuses to leave. Go grab your wallet and the keys so we can get going.”

They both ignore Brigham’s muttered complaints as he heads to his room, focusing on each other.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Bradley says lowly once their friend is gone, like if he’s quiet enough with his compliments, then their just friends for now promise won’t be broken.

She looks at him through her lashes, putting her earring on and answering just as lowly. “Thank you. You look handsome.”

“Even with my hair sticking up?”

“Even then, dolcezza.” She hums. A yell from next door interrupts them before he can ask what she called him. “I gotta go, or we’ll be late for dinner. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Have fun, be safe.”

“Hello?” Bradley grumbles into the receiver, not appreciating being woken up after it took almost an hour to fall asleep.

“I can’t see you, Bradley; turn the light on.”

He pulls the phone back, pleasantly surprised to find Mary staring back at him. She’s showered and propped her phone against something, her brown eyes looking sleepy as she snuggles under the covers. A wave of longing hits him; she looks so soft and sweet. He wants nothing more than to be there with her.

“Sorry I woke you up.” She apologizes as he flips the light on and stands his phone on his bedside table.

“S’okay. Did you have a good time with your friends?”

“Yeah…” She sighs, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “It was great! I haven’t seen them since I left last year. We drank so much wine, which happens every time we let Ron pick the restaurant.”

“You tipsy, honey?”

“Think so.” She giggles, burying her face in her pillow for a second. “But it’s okay. Brigham drove, and he made sure I didn’t twist my ankle in those sandals.”

“Did he complain about it?”

“The whole time, he’s a good guy.” She blinks at his annoyed grumble. “Are you jealous? It’s okay if you are, but you don’t have to be. He really is like a brother. Besides, you’re the only sexy Dagger. Like, you’re all ridiculously attractive - statistically, only one or two of you should be hot, and somehow you all are; someone should study the probability of that - but you’re the only one I think is sexy.”

Bradley feels his jaw drop at her admission. He wants to stop her and talk about the fact that she thinks he’s sexy, but she’s steamrolling ahead on a different topic.

“I’m so excited to get home! It’s Annie’s birthday on Saturday, so I get to watch her run around with all her little friends from preschool. It’s gonna be so cute!” She coos, her smile wide.

“You’re gonna need a few Advil after listening to all that screaming.”

“Probably, but it’ll be nice to see her have fun on her birthday.”

“Hey, speaking of birthdays. I was thinking we should do something for your birthday on Sunday since I’ll be gone on the actual day.”

“You remember my birthday?”

“Of course I do, March 14th - Pi Day. And if I did my math correctly, you’re going to be 34.”

“That’s right.” Her answer is just above a whisper.

He can’t describe the way Mary is looking at him; her eyes are big and glassy, and there’s something in her expression he just can’t quite recognize.

“I was thinking we’d spend an evening together - just the two of us - and I’ll make dinner for you.”

“That’s so sweet, Bradley, but I don’t know if I can accept. That’s a lot of work.”

“No, it’s not. Not if I’m doing it for you.”

“Bradley… that plan isn’t very just friends.” Her voice is quiet, shy.

“I know. But I promise, this is completely different than the dinner I promised you after I get back in May. It’s not a date like that’s going to be. So whatdya say? Gonna let me make you dinner?”

“Only if I’m bringing dessert.”

“Nope, it’s your birthday. You’re not bringing dessert.”

Mary’s eyebrows scrunch as she sits up to get closer to the camera, the covers slipping down to reveal her nightgown. Bradley swallows hard. He knows she’s not doing it on purpose - doesn’t think she is anyway - but the pink fabric drapes across her skin in the most tantalizing way. He watches the strap slip down her shoulder, feeling weaker with every millimeter it moves. It makes him want to give in to her, but he stays strong, insisting that she’s not allowed to bring food to her own birthday dinner.

“Fine. Am I allowed to bring wine?”

He thinks for a second. “That’s okay, as long as that’s all you bring.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Alright, smartass. Time for bed.” He lays back down, watching as she gets comfortable.

Mary hums, fighting against her eyes that are trying to slip close. “Talk tomorrow?”

“Course. Good night, honey.”

The last thing he sees before she hangs up is her pretty face, a sleepy smile on her lush lips, and her dark hair spread out on the white hotel pillows. “Night, dolcezza. Sleep well.”

The screen goes dark, and Bradley smiles back at his own reflection. It had taken some trial and error, but he had looked up what dolcezza meant while she was at dinner.

Dolcezza: Sweetheart or Honey (literally: sweetness; considered old-fashioned)

Mary’s anxiety has been eating away at her all day. From the moment she woke up, to getting ready two hours early because she was worried about being late, to this very second. The combination of nerves and excitement has her entire body vibrating. Her hand even shook a little when she lifted it to knock, thankful that she had tucked the wine safely into her canvas bag.

It’s just dinner with Bradley. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

She’s been telling herself that since accepting his invitation, but she can’t fool her own heart. Bradley inviting her over so he can make a birthday dinner for her because he’s going to be gone on her actual birthday? She knows this means more for them than just dinner.

More than just friends.

She’s beginning to regret asking that they wait to go on a date until he gets back from this deployment. He was so kind and understanding when she explained and had been taking everything at the pace she requested. But an itch is starting to form, one she can’t scratch by herself.

An itch that can only soothed by Bradley’s lips pressed to hers. By his big hands cradling her face. By his strong body pinning hers to the bed. By the two of them sharing a bed at night. Now that she’s had a slice what it would be like to be with him, she’s desperate for more. Just the thought of how he might taste-

You have got to calm down. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath.

Mary follows her own instructions, trying to practice the Lamaze breathing she learned at Danielle’s birthing classes, the ones she attended when they weren’t sure what Reuben’s schedule would look like. She’s smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out of her shirt when the door opens.

Why the fuck did I say we should be just friends for now?

Bradley looks gorgeous. There’s no other word to describe it. The sleeves of his sweater are pushed up and hugging his arms, the soft fabric stretched across his broad shoulders. He’s wearing her favorite pair of jeans, the light-wash ones that cup his ass just right. And he’s gotten a trim, his curls slightly shorter than the last time she saw him in person.

As a familiar aroma wafts past his tall frame, his flushed cheeks make her wonder if it’s because he’s been cooking or because of her. She hopes it’s because of her.

“Hi. Happy birthday, Mariella.”

She loves it when Bradley says her full name. His pink lips curving around the letters, the syllables effortlessly dripping from his mouth. He even develops the tiniest Italian accent, an unconscious effect of her name. Her heart pounds with the care he always uses with her name, the respect.

“Thanks, Bradley.” She’s momentarily taken off guard when he pulls her into his strong chest but is reluctant to pull back from his warm hug. “Whatever you’re making smells good.”

“Thank you! I think you’re gonna like it.”

Mary’s smile widens as he takes her bag while she slips her shoes off. “Yeah? What are we having?”

“Oh, that’s a surprise - you’ll just have to wait a little bit and see. Have a seat at the table, and I’ll pour you a glass of this wine you brought.”

She slips into a dining room chair and watches as he opens the wine, bobbing his head to the music coming from the record player across the room. He dramatically sniffs the cork, and the cheeky smile he shoots over his shoulder makes her laugh.

“Something funny, Miss Mary?” Bradley saunters around the counter peninsula, handing over a stemless wine glass.

“Nothing, just unaware I was in the presence of a sommelier. Did you taste the peach the label talked about?”

“I did; I also picked up on notes of lime. Very delicious pinot grigio you selected for tonight.”

“The Navy’s amazing reading skills in action.” She smirks at the confused tilt of his head. “It’s a sauvignon blanc, Bradley.”

He throws his head back as he laughs. “Shit! They all taste the same to me.”

“Me too.” She admits as he checks on the food, warmth blooming in her chest at the domesticity of the scene. All the anxiety from earlier suddenly seems ridiculous; she’s never felt more comfortable with a man. “Which drives Dani insane because apparently there’s a lot of differences.”

“Wine is wine! You know, like Mr. Incredible when he tries to do the math homework?” Bradley jokes as he sets salad and bread on the table. “Could you dish out the salad while I serve the pasta?”

Mary is slicing the loaf of sourdough when Bradley sets a bowl of pasta at seat. His chest brushes her back, and he squeezes her hip as he moves to his seat, murmuring a low thanks when she puts bread on his plate. She loses her breath as she sits back down, her heart racing when she sees what he’s made.

“Pasta e piselli?”

“It’s your favorite.”

“You remember that?”

“What’s your favorite?”

Mary perks up at the question, happy that Bradley is so interested in what she has to say. “Pasta e piselli, which is just pasta and peas. But it’s so good and filling and comforting.”

“Do you make it a lot?”

“I don’t actually, Amelia, even though it’s very easy to make.” She sends a conspiratory wink to her, getting a big smile in return. “It’s one of those recipes I break out for a special dinner or when I need a pick-me-up meal.”

“Special dinner? You ever make it for a date?”

The question stops her cold. She knows Amelia catches the way her face drops, a shocked expression she can’t quite control. One of her worst qualities, according to her mother. She can feel pity radiating from the young girl standing on the end of the cart, feeling sad for the pathetic thirty-three-year-old woman who can’t understand when a man just thinks of her as a friend.

Her throat feels acidic, swallowing the tears that threaten to show themselves. She feels so stupid, because up until that question, she would have sworn Bradley was flirting with her. She should know better by now. She’s not someone that men find desirable. She’s fat and awkward and bad at flirting.

Mary stutters out an answer, some bullshit about commitment, before focusing on Amelia, who interrupts to talk about cupcakes. She takes advantage of the distraction, using it to move them toward the cashiers and taking the first chance to get away from the siblings. She can’t help but feel even more heartbroken when Bradley offers to carry her groceries. He’s such a good guy. It’s not his fault she’s so pathetic and convinced herself a man like Bradley could want someone like her.

“That’s sweet, but I’ve got it. Been doing this all by myself for years now! Enjoy your pizza, guys!” She gives a poor excuse of a wave, her smile sad as she thinks about how true her statement is.

She has been doing it by herself for years. All alone - no partner, no roommate, no help - since she graduated college. Her best friends usually thousands of miles away, limited contact with her family in New York, only a few friends in Missouri. And then, in Florida, just when she had started to get friendly with people besides the admiral she worked with, she had gotten the job in San Diego and moved, leaving that budding life behind.

She should probably be thankful that Bradley didn’t press more after Amelia interrupted. That he didn’t ask her to help him make the recipe for whatever lucky woman he had in mind when he asked about making it for a date. Because she would have said yes, desperate to spend time with the man she had a crush on.

Well, that’s gonna stop now righ now, she decides as she sends one last small smile to Bradley and Amelia, trudging out to her Jeep and letting herself cry for a few seconds once the groceries are loaded. Driving home with tears leaking down her cheeks as her favorite sad Taylor Swift song plays on repeat.

“Of course I do.” His socked feet brush her own, and he reaches over to grab her hand.” You said you would only make it for someone who was committed to you.”

Her heart races at the implication of his words.

I’m committed to you.

“You asked if I would make this for a date.” Bradley nods. “This isn’t a date.”

“It’s not a date.” He confirms, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“It’s only been a week, I’m not-”

“I know, Mary.” He gently cuts her off. “It’s not a date; I just wanted to make something special for your birthday.”

She tries to swallow around the lump in her throat, overwhelmed by the sweet and thoughtful man sitting beside her. Compared to her previous relationship attempts, Bradley keeps surpassing her expectations by leaps and bounds. She knows it’s not fair to compare them, to keep waiting for him to act like them. He’s not them.

He is so much better.

Bradley is kind and caring. He listens to her, really takes in what she’s saying, doesn’t just nod as the words come out of her mouth. The slightest brush of his skin against hers sets her on fire. He makes her feel safe; she’s never once questioned his intentions or felt uneasy while in the car with him.

Logically, Mary knows the beautiful man in front of her really does care about her, but it’s still hard to believe they’ve gotten here. That they’re here, having this not-date that is so clearly a date. That they’ve confessed their feelings.

“Try some.”

Her stare lingers on his face for another minute, committing his soft expression to memory, before looking down at her bowl.

“It really does look great.” She doesn’t let go of his hand, scooping a bite with her right hand and blowing to cool it down. Bradley’s eyes twinkle as she takes the first bite, his pupils dilating at the involuntary sound that escapes as the flavors melt in her mouth.

No one had made this meal for her since her grandmother passed away twenty years ago. It's like a taste of childhood between the fresh peas and the sharp pecorino cheese.

“Is it good?”

“Well, it’s not Nonna Romano's pasta e piselli, but you did a great job, Bradley. It’s delicious.” She smiles as his face drops in relief, a wide smile replacing his nervous one.

They spend dinner talking and laughing, their legs constantly brushing together as they discuss which post-program review happy hour mixers they should attend. Then, after the leftovers are packed up, Bradley ushers her onto his balcony and plops the two of them on his wicker loveseat, ignoring her protests that she could do the dishes.

“I’ll do them later. Just sit here and relax with me, would ya?”

“Fine.” Mary huffs, shuffling closer until she’s tucked into his side, warm and content under the blanket he grabbed.

The two sit in comfortable silence, cuddled together as they listen to the sounds of the street below and watch the last rays of the sunset slip away. It’s not until the few stars that are actually visible through San Diego’s light pollution appear in the sky that one of them moves.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, chuckling at her tiny, displeased whine when he pulls away. She watches him walk into his apartment, appreciating the long lines of his body.

When the door slides shut, she takes a second to just breathe, the crisp evening air filling her lungs and cooling her warm cheeks as she tries to calm herself down. The butterflies in her storm are waging a war against her, but not in a bad way. It’s not nerves or anxiety that’s making her stomach flip.

It’s happiness.

It’s Bradley.

An involuntary laugh escapes at the realization. Mary presses the blanket against her face, muffling the excited giggles she can’t control. Giddy like a schoolgirl with her first real crush. She brings the blanket down at the sound of the door opening; her cheeks are sore from smiling so big but they stretch even more at the sight in front of her.

Bradley walking towards her, singing Happy Birthday with a slice of cheesecake in one hand and his phone in the other. He carefully sits back down, handing over the plate to light the candle.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Mary can’t look away from the man sitting next to her. Her heart is so full she could cry. She’s never been one to make a big fuss about birthdays. Usually spends the day working and enjoying her colleagues' happiness at the treats she brought to share. Treating herself to dinner out and maybe some dessert before calling her best friends to chat and catch up, laughing through their awful rendition of Happy Birthday.

The effort Bradley has put in has her on the brink of happy tears. Not only did he remember her favorite dinner months after she mentioned it once, but he put in the time to actually make it. He’s done all the work himself and hasn’t let her lift a finger. Something she appreciates more than he could ever imagine. Growing up, there was never a day where she was allowed to not help. Every special day of her - birthday, graduation - ended with her in the kitchen, putting leftovers away and washing dishes while her brothers got to have fun. And on top of all that, she knows he asked Dani or Reuben for help because he’s stuck a candle in a slice of chocolate raspberry swirl cheesecake - her favorite.

His soft voice interrupts her thoughts. “Make a wish, honey.”

I hope we never get tired of each other. I hope we grow old together. I hope we love each other forever.

She keeps eye contact with him as she blows the candle out, hoping he understands she’s wishing for him.

For them.

Bradley stops recording and drops his phone on the table without looking, scooting closer to her with a hungry look in his eyes. It’s clear as day how much he wants her, even in the low light of the balcony, and it sends shivers up her spine.

“What did you wish for?” His voice is rough compared to a few seconds ago, like there’s gravel in his throat.

Mary’s eyes flicker between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide which one she wants to look at more. “I can’t say, or it might not come true.” His mouth wins the battle when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that. Would we?” Her heart kicks into overdrive as he leans closer, his right hand pushing hair out of her face while the other slips around her back, tugging her closer.

“Thank you for this, it was perfect.”

Mary leans in, her breath hitching when the tips of their noses brush. Her free hand runs up his chest, appreciating the soft sweater before dipping into his curls. Bradley presses in even further, the small dessert plate between them the only thing keeping them apart.

“Of course. Happy Birthday, dolcezza.”

if you would like to be added (or removed) from the tag list please send an ask!

fic tag | credit for dividers here

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #elle writes #mar[r]y me fic

44 notes · View notes

tsunami-of-tears · 6 months

Text

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Four

Azriel x OC

Summary: Further training at the House of Wind, Aurora is a badass. She also attends dinner with the inner circle.

A/N: Sorry that this one took me a bit longer, I've had a busy/stressful week. Yoga is one of my special interests, I could talk about it all day long so I hope the class bits aren’t too long/detailed. I accidentally made Aurora autistic (we write what we know) oops.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, autistic meltdown (similar to a panic attack)

Part Three

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Azriel

Shaking her head at Cassian’s choice of attire, Aurora walks to her spot at the front of the class.

Feeling guilty about bringing up her mother, Azriel keeps his distance and selects a mat in the back row of the class, directly behind Cassian and Nesta. The mates always bicker and try to outdo each other during training - Azriel hoped they would provide some distraction.

After warming up and working through the preparatory exercises, Aurora demonstrates the next position - the mermaid pose.

“This pose is quite advanced, so I’ll come around and help where needed,” Aurora says as she walks through the rows of mats.

“Perfect Nesta, look at how much progress you’ve made,” Aurora beams, causing Cassian to pout.

“Why don’t you compliment me?” Cassian asks.

“Because, Cassian, your form is off.” Azriel has to hold back his smile while Nesta bursts out laughing. “Here, let me help you. This is pretty tricky.” Aurora gently adjusts Cassian’s form, explaining how to angle his hips until he is in the correct pose.

Cassian yells triumphantly. “Look at me! I’m a mermaid!”

“You are a beautiful mermaid Cassian, good job,” says Aurora, smiling wide. She continues walking, until she stops in front of Azriel’s mat.

“Can I help you a little bit?” Aurora asks, still smiling. “If we adjust your front leg, it’ll be more comfortable.”

Azriel nods in response.

His heart hammers as Aurora’s scent floods his nose and her warm hands touch his knee, moving it slightly to the right.

“Good, can you feel that now?”

The feeling of Aurora’s hand on his leg lingers, Azriel wants nothing more than to reach out to her. He can feel something pulling him towards her and he can't stop his shadows from sweeping their smokelike tendrils around her ankles. Azriel swallows, nodding, he doesn’t trust himself to use his voice.

“Good,” Aurora nods and heads back to her spot at the front, ready to continue the lesson.

Cassian and Nesta watch the interaction quietly. Azriel avoids their gaze and doesn’t notice the raised brows and smiles exchanged by the couple.

————

Cassian insisted on another planking challenge with Aurora, she rolled her eyes playfully and agreed to it. There were no time limits today, instead they were both to hold the position for as long as they could.

Everyone stood around the pair, wanting to watch how this played out. Nesta, playing the role of referee, calls out “Begin.”

This was more of a battle of minds than bodies. Both Cassian and Aurora are physically capable, but who could keep their mind focused the longest?

Minutes passed, the training ring was silent aside from the occasional gust of wind and grunt from Cassian. Azriel watched Aurora, her technique seemed similar to the mind stilling utilised by the Valkyries. Her face remained blank and unwavering throughout the challenge. No taunting from Cassian could penetrate her shield.

Nesta watches on hopefully, Azriel meets her gaze with a subtle nod, they were both rooting for Aurora.

Finally, after what felt like an age to the onlookers, Cassian falls with a groan. Aurora follows shortly after, remaining on her hands and knees as she pants to regain her breath.

Despite his jeering, Cassian was not a bad sport. He studied Aurora in awe for a few moments before standing up and extending his hand to her. She smiles as she takes it and gets to her feet.

She tries to take her hand back but Cassian’s grip holds firm. “You’re incredible,” he says with complete sincerity.

Aurora’s eyes fall to her feet as she mumbles a soft thank you, confidence disappearing completely at the compliment. Azriel’s chest tightens as he watches on. He can’t tell if it’s jealousy over the interaction with his brother.

His thoughts are disrupted by the group of females rushing to Aurora. Gwyn and Emerie pull Aurora in for a hug as Nesta jumps up and down in celebration.

Cassian breaks away from the females and heads towards Azriel. “I’m a little bit terrified of her,” he admits.

“Yeah she’s…” Azriel falters and looks back at Aurora, still feeling the tug in his chest. There is no single word to describe her. “She’s special.” Cassian nods in agreement.

The brothers stand together in silence, watching the females excitedly discuss their morning. Nesta and Aurora part from the group and walk towards where the two males are standing.

“Aurora, what are you doing tonight?” Cassian asks.

“Um, I’ll probably work on my lesson plans,” she admits.

“Change of plans, sweetheart. Rhys would like to meet you and discuss our training. He asked us to extend an invitation to dinner tonight.”

Aurora balks, her eyes widen. “Me? With the High Lord?”

Nesta puts a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “It’s just Rhys,” she laughs, “Don’t worry, we’ll all be there too.”

That seems to ease Aurora slightly, she nods her head in agreement.

“Wonderful, I’ll let him know. I’m afraid I have somewhere I need to be, Azriel will take you home.” Cassian smirks at Azriel as his breath catches.

Trying to cover up his shock, Azriel extends an arm to Aurora and asks, “Are you ready to go?”

She takes a deep breath and says, “As I’ll ever be.”

Azriel pulls her into his arms and launches into the sky. Aurora squeezes her eyes closed until they stop ascending. Although there’s a part of Azriel that sings in happiness with Aurora in his arms, the fear on her face makes him concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Aurora closes her eyes again, “I don’t like flying,” she admits. “It turns my stomach.”

Azriel pauses as he contemplates his response, wondering how much of his soul he should bare.

“I used to feel that way,” he confesses. Aurora looks at him and raises her brows in question. “I learnt to fly later in life,” Azriel continues. “Despite the deep instinct, it was hard to make that initial jump.”

Before Aurora can respond they start to descend towards her apartment, making her tighten the grip around Azriel’s neck. She stays firmly wrapped around him until they land on the ground.

Azriel places Aurora on her feet and she promptly removes her arms from his neck, straightening up. Azriel clears his throat, his arms feeling empty without Aurora in them. Running his hand through his hair, he says, “So dinner tonight, I’ll pick you up. It’s at the River House so we don't have to fly.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’ll, um, see you there.”

“Oh okay, I guess I’ll see you later then.” He takes a breath before admitting, “You killed it earlier.”

“Thank you,” Aurora says, her eyes never leave Azriel’s. “I should, uh, getting going.” She gestures behind her back with her thumb.

“Me too.” Azriel watches as Aurora walks into her apartment building, fighting the urge to pull her close again. He lets out a deep sigh once she’s out of his sight, before launching into the sky.

————

Aurora

You had been ruminating over the High Lord’s invitation all afternoon. You tried to meditate and calm your mind but it did nothing to still your thoughts. You were so worried about what he might think of you. Even though Rhysand helped you get to safety in Velaris, you had never actually met the male. What if he thought the effort was wasted on you?

And then there was Azriel.

After your interactions today, you knew you couldn’t deny how you felt. Every time you touched you felt a fire burning under your skin, not unlike the warm glow of your power.

You were relieved that Nesta would be there tonight. Though you haven’t known her long, she was the closest friend you had.

Cassian had neglected to mention the dress code for the evening, so you were also stressing over that. Half of your closet was in piles on the floor and your bed. You’d tried on numerous outfit combinations and nothing felt right. Everything was too itchy or too restrictive or too casual. At this rate you’d be going in your under garments.

Finally, you settle on a light grey sweater dress with sheer tights and knee high black boots. You felt comfortable and hoped you wouldn’t be underdressed. As it’s nearing the end of Autumn, you had a very cold walk to the River House, so you also put on your coat and scarf.

On the way out of your apartment, you take a final look in the mirror and repeat one of your affirmations.

“I am strong. I am resilient. I am enough.”

————

You find yourself standing outside the large manor that is humbly named the River House. The walk had helped to clear your head before dinner, but you can feel the anxiety creeping back as you stand on the front step.

You repeat your affirmation again in your mind before raising your hand to knock on the door.

Before you make contact with the wood, the door is opened by Feyre who’s mouth widens in a huge smile when she sees you. You are relieved to see her black dress is quite understated, putting one worry at ease.

“Hello again, Aurora. Please come in.” You bow your head at her and step inside.

You step into the grand entrance and follow Feyre down the hallway. “Thank you for having me, you have such a beautiful home,” you say to Feyre. She smiles warmly at you, “Thank you Aurora, you’re always welcome.”

You take another deep breath before entering the main living room. You’re barely over the threshold before you’re being pulled into a bone crushing hug by Nesta. It takes you a moment to realise what’s happening before you return her embrace. She whispers to you, “I’m so glad you came, it’s nice to have another friend around here.”

Nesta lets you go and Cassian steps forward with a broad smile on his face. He also pulls you into a hug in greeting. Not quite as tightly as Nesta, but still firm. “How’s my favourite yoga teacher?” He beams.

“Cassian, I’m your only yoga teacher.” You retort.

“You’re still my favourite.” Cassian says with a wink. You respond with an eye roll.

He takes a step back to move out of the way of Rhysand, who has stood to greet you.

Your eyes flicker as they take in the High Lord. Living in Velaris for so many years, you had heard rumours of Rhysand’s beauty. None of that prepared you for the real thing. The male that stood before you was cauldron-blessed.

Your breath hitches as his violet, star-flecked eyes meet yours. “Hello Aurora, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” the High Lord purrs.

You feel your cheeks redden so you quickly avert your gaze and bow deeply to Rhysand. “Thank you for the hospitality, my Lord.” You hear a chuckle coming from Cassian’s direction, quickly shut off by the sound of smacking skin - you assume that was Nesta.

You straighten your back and meet the High Lord’s gaze again, he’s watching you with curiosity. “You are most welcome, Aurora. But please, there’s no need for such formality in my home. You can call me Rhys.”

“That would be improper, my L-” Rhys cuts you off.

“Are you questioning your High Lord?” He asks with his brow raised and a smirk.

Your cheeks burn even redder, “My apologies, uh, Rhys.”

“I’m just teasing you Aurora, I couldn’t resist,” Rhys says with a wink. “Please sit,” he gestures to the lounge where Azriel is already sitting and looking rather uncomfortable. You hadn’t noticed him, hidden behind his flurry of shadows. “I’m dying to hear how training is going so far. First, would you like a drink?”

“Thank you, that would be lovely.” Rhys exits with Feyre to get the drinks. You take a seat on the other side of the couch to Azriel, leaving an empty cushion in between the two of you.

“Hello shadowsinger.”

Azriel watches you for a moment with a soft expression, “I think we need to start calling you that.” Azriel nods his head towards your feet, where you notice one of his shadows slinking by. You reach your hand out and it glides up and around your arm like a snake, slightly tickling you. You let out a soft laugh as it brushed over a particularly sensitive spot.

At that moment, Rhys and Feyre return, carrying wine and glasses. They set everything down on the coffee table and look over at your arm, and the shadow making itself at home there.

“Az, are you doing that?” Feyre asks.

Azriel shakes his head, “No, it’s not me, I’m not controlling them. They like her.”

“Interesting.” Rhys drawls.

“What’s interesting, cousin?” Everyone turns to face Mor, who has just entered the room. She flips her hair over her shoulder and takes a seat in the chair across from you. “Rory. Fifty years and you still haven’t taken up an offer to hang out with me. This buffoon here,” she gestures at Cassian, “asks you once and you accept.” Mor flashes you a devilish smile.

Cassian starts to object to being called a buffoon but he side tracks, “Rory?” He questions and turns back to you. “How have we not heard this nickname before?”

“It’s what my family called me. I don’t introduce myself as Rory, but Mor knew them.”

Azriel winced at the mention of your family in past tense. Luckily, Mor quips back at Cassian. “Once she puts up with fifty years of your crap, you can ask to call her that.”

“Cauldron boil me, fifty years? I’m not sure I have the strength.” You say, winking at Cassian.

Rhys and Nesta roar with laughter as Cassian crosses his arms and pouts at you.

You pick up one of the glasses on the table, swirling the wine around before bringing it to your lips. Not usually one to drink much, you were feeling quite relaxed so you didn’t see any harm in having a few tonight.

————

The rest of the evening was fairly enjoyable. It was easy for you to slip into the familiar banter of the group. Cassian continued to pester you all throughout dinner about your nickname, until you finally caved - he could call you Rory so long as he stopped calling you Sweetheart.

After dinner, Feyre retired for the night to relieve her other sister, Elain, from babysitting duties - while Rhys, Cassian and Azriel went to the High Lord’s study to discuss some urgent business. That left you alone in the lounge with Mor and Nesta.

You ended up drinking more than intended, with the excitement of the night gone and the wine-buzz wearing off, you feel very drained.

In between fits of giggles, Nesta raves about your ‘annihilation’ of Cassian earlier - a severe exaggeration in your opinion.

“I would give anything to see that!” exclaims Mor. You wave your hands, trying to object to all the praise, but Nesta cuts you off.

“Nonsense. I will not hear it, Aurora.” She grabs your hands, forcing you to look at her. “Listen to me, you’re incredible.” You squeeze her hands in response, and attempt to blink back the tears that have pooled in your eyes.

You’re unsure if it’s the wine making you more emotional, but you choke back your sob as the wave of overwhelming feelings slams into you - acceptance and loneliness, insecurity and gratitude. The good and bad swirls together until the tears are streaming down your face.

“Oh, Rory.” Nesta pulls you into a hug and holds you tight. The pressure helps to calm you and slow your breathing. Your shoulders slump in her embrace and you let out a soft whimper.

You feel a warm hand on your back, and turn your head to see Mor beside you, rubbing small circles. “Come on, Rory, let’s get you to bed.”

The exhaustion hits you so hard that you don’t question her. Nesta and Mor help you to your feet, and walk with you to one of the spare bedrooms. The females help you change into comfortable clothes and they get you into bed. You don’t say a word to either of them as they leave, you couldn’t if you tried. Once you reach this point, your mind and body refuse to cooperate.

Once you’re alone, you use your powers to extinguish all light in the room. Relishing in the calmness of the dark and silence, you allow yourself to fall into a deep sleep.

————

Azriel

Rhys had asked Azriel and Cassian to step into his office, claiming there was something urgent they had to discuss.

Azriel had been on edge all night. He had an inkling about the pull he felt towards Aurora, but he wasn’t completely sure. Mother knows he doesn’t deserve it.

The three males were silent until they entered the High Lord’s study. Rhys leans against his desk with his arms crossed, Cassian and Azriel remain standing.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Azriel asks.

Rhys and Cassian exchange a look before flashing devilish smiles at Azriel.

“Brother, when were you planning on telling us about your lovely mate?”

Part Five

#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel x oc #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf

40 notes · View notes

lumiolivierlithium · 1 month

Text

So is the Life of a Pirate (5/?)

Series: One Piece

Chapter: 5/?

Word Count: 3512

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Sanji x OC (Reader)

A dalliance six years ago has a funny way of catching up to Sanji when the Straw Hats stop to restock the ship.

a/n: Hi! Welcome back. You want to take a little detour? A little side something, something? Here.

[1] [2][3] [4]

And the rush continued. Table after table ordered their meals and the orders started to stack up. Both Nora and Cordelia got nervous. And yet, Sanji kept at it, perfectly content in his happy place. Despite the odds of Sanji not working himself into the ground, the little bell at the window went ding.

“Order!”

“No way,” Cordelia gasped, watching as order after order started funneling through the window. Including, but not limited to, Luffy’s request of one of everything. And Cordelia simply smiled. I really should know better, shouldn’t I? I know Zeff ran the Baratie, but I think you were running it under the table, “Sanji?”

“Yes, darling?” Sanji poked his head out of the window, “Is something missing? Pretty sure I sent everything.”

“You did,” Cordelia assured him, “But…You’re incredible.”

“It’s amazing what happens when you try your best,” Sanji kissed her cheek, “Go on. Get me something else to do.”

For the rest of the morning rush, Cordelia ran back and forth between the kitchen and the front, taking care of many a hungover customer from the night before or anyone just passing through or regulars, locals from around Beniville Bay. And with rave reviews from anyone who ate there. Buzz about the new chef at the tavern spread like wildfire and of course, it only meant more work for all involved. Just another regular day at the tavern. Once everyone had cleared out from breakfast, Cordelia sat down at the bar.

“You’re still on the clock, hon,” Nora reminded her, “I’m not serving you. Not yet anyway.”

“And my son is still sitting by the window,” Cordelia retaliated, beyond exhausted, “I’m not ordering a drink. Might think about ordering a snack, though.”

“Did I say you wanted a snack?” Sanji popped out of the kitchen and leaned over the bar. He looked Cordelia over. Tired, ragged Cordelia, “Look at that. I seemed to have found one.”

“Flirt with her on your own time,” Nora chided him.

“After I give you mine?” Sanji poked at her a little more, “Fine. Sorry, Nora. Your waitress is cute. I can’t help myself.”

“You sound like half the men who come in here when I’m working on a Saturday night,” Cordelia giggled to herself, “Only you’re not smacking my ass on the way through.”

“Only if you asked me nicely.”

“It’s good to know the spark is still alive,” Nora teased them, “But in all seriousness, thank you, Sanji. I greatly appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” Sanji brushed her off, “We were taking a couple days off anyway. I needed something to fill my time. And it’s been a while since I’ve been able to cook for a crowd like that.”

“When was the last time?” Nora wondered.

“When I still worked at the Baratie,” Sanji thought back, “When Zeff would work my ass to the bone and barely give me a thank you.”

“When who?” Nora gasped, “You’re not talking about…Red Foot Zeff, are you?”

“The one and only,” Sanji nodded, “He was practically the dad I never had. Why? You know him?”

Nora hid her face, “I need to go get something out of the freezer. I’ll be right back.”

And she disappeared without a trace. And it had Cordelia scratching her head, “That’s weird.”

“Super weird,” Sanji agreed, “What do you think that was all about?”

“Not sure,” Cordelia shrugged, “I’ve never heard her talk about Zeff before. Maybe we should ask him when we get to the Baratie.”

“Or,” Sanji suggested, “Maybe we let sleeping dogs lie on this one.”

“Or…” Cordelia smirked, “I get either Zeff or Nora the right amount of drunk and see if I can pry it out of them.”

“Cordelia, no,” Sanji shot her down, “Don’t do that. That’s their business.”

“Alright, alright.” I will find out before I leave today. Cordelia got up from her spot at the bar and pulled up a chair next to the table full of miscreant pirates. And her baby, “If there was any problem with your meal today, you can direct all complaints to our new chef. That I kind of stole from you guys.”

“I thought that was Sanji’s cooking,” Luffy sat back, pleasantly stuffed, “It tasted just like it.”

“You can tell who made your food just by the taste?” Usopp looked at him strangely, not entirely believing him.

“Yep! And that was definitely something that could’ve come out of our kitchen.”

“But it didn’t,” Cordelia flattened out on the table, “It came out of ours instead. I’m so glad I didn’t have to cook today.”

“Do you cook here, too?” Usopp asked.

“Mmhm,” Cordelia nodded, “Depends on what it is. But for a lot of things, I’m the one cooking. But if I don’t have to tonight, I’ll be quite happy.”

“It’s a good thing I rolled into the village when I did then, isn’t it?” Sanji rested his head on her shoulder.

“Seriously?” Cordelia gasped, “Sanji, no. After everything you did this morning and even before you got here, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’ll have to when I get back to the ship anyway,” Sanji shrugged, “Why not? Besides, you made dinner for all of us last night. It’s the least I can do.”

Cordelia held her face in her hands, beyond argument and reasoning, “Alright. If you say so.”

“Wonderful,” Sanji pulled up a chair, “You know, it’s the strangest thing. I would’ve thought Zoro would’ve been here by now. He did say he was just napping his hangover off.”

“And Zoro’s lucky to find the bright side,” Nami pointed out, “We’re in a village we haven’t been to in years. What makes you think he’d be able to find us now?”

Ding!

“Kitchen’s closed!” Cordelia called out.

“So were my eyes until about half an hour ago,” Zoro came stumbling in and pulled up a chair, “Are you sure I can’t get anything?”

“I’m sure if we get Nora out of the freezer,” Cordelia figured, “She might think about making something for you.”

“Isn’t she a sweetheart?” Zoro rubbed his eyes, “And how much longer are we on shore leave, Captain?”

“That’s a question for Cordelia,” Luffy told him, “When are we leaving, Cordelia?”

“Tomorrow morning, if I can swing it,” Cordelia hoped, “But someone needs to come out of the freezer first.”

“Should someone go check on Nora?” Sanji worried.

“Don’t everyone get up at once,” Cordelia got up and started heading back toward the kitchen, “Sanji, can you take care of the bar please?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you!” Cordelia headed back into the kitchen and rounded the corner. The door to the walk-in freezer had the padlock in front of it. Cordelia rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who that was for, and knocked on the door, “Uh…Nora?”

“Hi, Cordelia,” Nora had pulled herself together just enough to function again, “I’m sorry. I had a little flashback to the early days. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Cordelia couldn’t let it go. She knew she told Sanji she would, but she couldn’t do it, “What the hell happened with you and Zeff?”

“I know Zeff,” Nora shrugged her off, “We met a long time ago. And we had a night or two together. It was a lot like you and Sanji, actually. Only difference is he pulled out.”

“Nora!” Cordelia cringed, “I have to go see this man with my baby and that baby’s father! That happens to be Zeff’s pseudo son! I don’t need that mental image in my head.”

“It’s true,” Nora giggled under her breath, “Honestly, Cordelia, I didn’t take you for such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude,” Cordelia scoffed, “But I do have my limits. And Zeff is a hard line in the sand for me.”

“Alright, alright,” Nora backed off, “You asked, honey. I just answered. You didn’t have to push.”

“And now, I’m kind of regretting it, yeah.”

“But regardless,” Nora went on, “It didn’t go anywhere. I was hoping he would stay, but he said he had to move on. And I see he did. I’m glad he’s doing well. Truly, I am. And I’m glad you have him in your life in some capacity, Cordelia. You’re lucky to have Zeff. Hell, you’re lucky to have Sanji, too. And damn lucky he came back.”

“He didn’t exactly come back for me, Nora,” Cordelia clarified, “He came back because Nami steered the ship this way. He came back because they needed to restock the ship.”

“Or,” Nora added, “We can close our eyes and pretend Sanji came back for you.”

“I think fate has a funny way of making this play out,” Cordelia cracked a smile, “But it’s nice that it threw a win my way.”

“I’m glad it threw a win your way,” Nora rested her head on Cordelia’s shoulder, “You needed a win like this.”

“And to add to that win,” Cordelia went in for the kill, “I would love to get my time off. I’m sure the trainee will do just fine.”

“I’m hoping so,” Nora sighed out, “Because granted, no one’s going to compare to you, but you have one tradition, Cordelia. And you finally get to have the whole family in on it.”

“I do,” Cordelia felt her breathing hitch. I do, don’t I?

“You’re good,” Nora assured her, “You’re cleared for the next month. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Stop by here before you leave,” Nora demanded, “I’ll have something for you.”

“Thank you,” Cordelia awed, “But you don’t have to give me anything. I’m sure the ship is already restocked. And not for nothing and I love him to death, but Sanji’s kind of a picky bitch about what goes on the ship, supply wise.”

“I never said this was going to be for Sanji,” Nora shoved her finger in Cordelia’s shoulder, “This is for you. And maybe a little something, something for the little one.”

“I’m going to be gone for a month, Nora,” Cordelia reminded her, the two walking out of the freezer together, “It’s not like I’m going away forever.”

“You say that now,” Nora scoffed, “A lot can happen in a month. Next thing you know, you’ll come back and say, ‘I got married, Nora! I’m only back around Beniville Bay to say my goodbyes!’. And then, I’ll have to sit here and be sad.”

“I don’t think that’s in the cards any time soon,” Cordelia promised, “Don’t worry, Nora. I will be back. That is a God’s honest promise. Besides, we’re too wired in here. I can’t uproot Ash like that.”

“Again, you say that now,” Nora smiled, grabbing the kitchen door, “But love can make you do some crazy things.”

“I know it can,” Cordelia agreed, “But some of us have a decent head on our shoulders and don’t have to think with our libido.”

“If you say so…”

“Is everything alright, Nora?” Sanji finished wiping off the last table.

“Everything’s fine, sweetie,” Nora took a quick look around the sparkling clean tavern, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t know how long you were going to be in the freezer,” Sanji shrugged, “And I know you’re going to open back up around four, so…”

“Sanji,” Nora hugged him tight, “Thank you so much. This place isn’t even this clean on health inspection day.”

“And I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” Zoro cringed, his head on the table.

“I’m surprised you have any appetite,” Nora gave Zoro a little swat to the shoulder, “Especially since you damn near drank me dry last night! No. That’s on me. I should know better when you all come around. I should’ve known the second I knew pirates had docked in the harbor. I wouldn’t have much left. And then…Imagine my surprise to realize notorious bounty hunter and even more notorious lush Roranoa Zoro comes rolling through. And all of a sudden, I have no more sake. I’m lucky to have any whiskey left. And I’m two beer kegs short.”

“What’s a lush, Mama?” Ash wondered.

“Zoro in a nutshell,” Nami giggled.

“Love you, too, Nami,” Zoro flipped her off.

“Someone who likes to drink a little too much,” Cordelia put a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, “Still not feeling too hot, huh, Zoro?”

“No.”

“I got him covered, Nora,” Cordelia told her, “If it’s alright with you.”

“Fine by me,” Nora allowed, “But nothing too big.”

“I got it,” Cordelia nodded, “You want anything specific, Zoro?”

“Anything to kill my headache?” Zoro asked.

“Eating will help,” she promised, “Hey, pretty boy. Come with me.”

“Me?” Sanji perked up.

“No,” Cordelia rolled her eyes, “The other pretty boy.”

“Alright,” Sanji followed her back to the kitchen, “No need to get snappy at me.”

“Well,” Cordelia made sure the doors were shut before she jumped up and wrapped her legs around Sanji’s waist, “I wanted us to have a little time alone with the good news before I start making Zoro breakfast.”

“The good news?” Sanji wondered. Only for his stomach to flip in the next second, “Cordelia, I hardly touched you last night. You can’t tell me you’re pregnant again.”

“No,” Cordelia assured him, “I am not pregnant. I got my sabbatical. We can leave tomorrow morning.”

“Cordelia!” Sanji hugged her tight, “That’s wonderful!”

“I thought so, too,” she cuddled into Sanji’s neck, “I can’t wait for us to get to the Baratie.”

“That’s…what…” Sanji thought for a moment or two, “At least a week’s worth of sailing?”

“Roughly, depending on what kind of wind we’re working with,” Cordelia nodded, “But…I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Sanji set her down on the counter, “What is it?”

“I know what happened with Nora and Zeff.”

“Cordelia!” Sanji squeaked, “I told you to leave it alone!”

“I know,” Cordelia winced, “But I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m not angry with you,” he sighed out, “But I am a little disappointed.”

“So,” Cordelia started digging pans out, “Does this mean you want me to share?”

Sanji cracked a little smile, his teeth sinking into his tongue, “Is it bad I want to say yes?”

“See?” Cordelia squealed, “I’m not the only one. I just had the balls to ask her.”

“That’s because you know Nora better than I do,” Sanji pulled up a stool, “That wasn’t for me to ask her.”

“You could’ve, too,” Cordelia took a mixing bowl and cracked a couple eggs in it, violently beating them into a singular, yellow glob, “So, do you want to know or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” Cordelia grabbed the flour, “Because once you know, there is no going back.”

“Tell me!” Sanji begged, “Please?”

“Alright, alright,” Cordelia kept mixing, “I’ll tell you. But like I said, once you know, you can’t unknow it.”

“Just tell me, Cordelia,” Sanji whined, “I can handle it.”

“Zeff and Nora boned.”

“Eww…” Sanji cringed, “I didn’t need to know that.”

“Apparently, you did,” Cordelia giggled, “You were the one that wanted to know so bad. You begged me to tell you. And I tried to warn you. You don’t want to know, Sanji. Keep your innocence. Don’t know what I know. It’s the worst. It’s going to sear at your brain, but what did you do?”

“I know,” Sanji pulled up a metal stool, “And now, I live with all the regret.”

“But,” Cordelia went on, “That’s why Nora likes you so much. Why she likes you coming around.”

“Because I remind her of her times doing unholy things with Zeff?” Sanji gagged a bit.

“No,” Cordelia started pouring batter on the flat top, “That’s not it at all. It’s because seeing us together reminds us of the way she was with Zeff. And I cannot wait to get to the Baratie and give Zeff so much shit about Nora.”

“You think they’d ever hook back up?” Sanji asked.

“Honestly?” Cordelia leaned against the counter, “No. Nora’s days of her dalliances are over. She just wants to stay around Beniville Bay. I’ve asked her if she’s wanted to come to the Baratie with Ash and me before, but she always says no. Now, I know why. But like I said, I’m going to give Zeff so much shit about him and Nora.”

“Don’t,” Sanji settled her, his arms draped over her shoulders, “Just let them be. Because there’s one big difference between you and me and Zeff and Nora.”

“What’s that, Sanji?” Cordelia started flipping Zoro’s pancakes.

“One of us came back,” Sanji kissed her cheek.

“And one of us got me pregnant,” Cordelia added, “Your ass better have come back.”

“I did!” Sanji squealed, “See? Promise.”

“I noticed,” Cordelia poured on some more pancake batter and watched as the bubbles came up, “And now, where are we going?”

“The Baratie, last I checked.”

“And right now,” Cordelia finished off the pancake batter and plated them, “I’m going to go bring Zoro his pancakes. Because I don’t want to have to clean up puke from the tavern floor. Or worse, deal with someone who realizes our kitchen equipment is still on and tries to come in and order. Zoro’s an exception. He’s family. And he knows the girl in the kitchen.”

“Hey!”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Oh,” Sanji started to relax, “We’re not leaving for the Baratie until tomorrow morning, right?”

“Bright and early,” Cordelia nodded, grabbing a cup of coffee on the way through.

“Good luck getting half the crew up for that,” Sanji chuckled to himself, “Cordelia, you’re lucky to get Luffy to move in the morning. The same goes for Usopp and Zoro. They’re disasters.”

“I know,” Cordelia walked out to the dining room and put a fresh stack of pancakes in front of Zoro, “Here, sweetie.”

“This is why you’re my favorite, Cordelia,” Zoro swooned, “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Cordelia kissed his cheek.

“I need to get out of here,” Sanji leaned against the booth, “I could stand a smoke. And I need to get to the marketplace.”

“For what?” Cordelia looked at him strangely.

“We’re a little short on supplies in our kitchen,” Sanji pointed out, “So, I’m going to do a little shopping, if that’s alright with you. We have two guests aboard tonight. Because they were so kind to host us last night. And it’s our last night in Beniville Bay. Why not cap it off with a nice meal? If you’re not busy for the afternoon, I could stand a little company in the kitchen.”

“I’d be happy to,” Cordelia smiled, “Ash, you want to go hang out on the ship with us?”

“Yeah!” Ash’s eyes lit up. The prospects of being on an actual pirate ship (aside from his mother’s) tickled him.

“Wait a sec, Ash,” Luffy pouted, “I thought you, me, and Usopp were playing today.”

“Well…” Ash looked over at Cordelia, torn between playing on the ship’s deck and playing with the actual pirates.

“It’s alright, baby,” Cordelia allowed, “If you want to go play with Luffy and Usopp, it’s fine. As long as they swear to me that they’ll bring you back just the way they got you.”

“They will, Mama!” Ash swore, “Honest!”

“I know they will,” Cordelia awed, shooting a sweet, but unsettling glare in their direction, “And they will like their lives depend on it. Won’t you, boys?”

“I think they will, Cordelia,” Sanji agreed, “Because their lives do depend on it…And I am making dinner tonight, am I not? I know a few different poisons that are completely tasteless, odorless, and potent.”

“We got him, Sanji,” Luffy promised, “Honest. We’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

“What would you be so concerned about Ash for?” Usopp wondered.

Both Sanji and Cordelia froze. This wasn’t a conversation that was meant to be had lightly. Certainly not because of an offhanded comment made by Usopp. Fortunately for both of them, Ash wasn’t thinking much about it. He was still too excited for the prospects of playing with pirates. And even more so, they had Zoro.

“He’s his girlfriend’s kid,” Zoro finished off his pancakes, “Of course, he’s going to take her side. Anything to get in her-”

“Zoro!” Cordelia snapped.

“Alright, alright,” Zoro kept his mouth shut, realizing his mistake. Yeah, the kid’s right here. He doesn’t need to hear that. Hopefully, that’s not a way he takes after his day, “Sorry.”

“Thank you,” Cordelia relaxed, wrapping herself around Sanji’s arm, “So, does that mean you’re going to show me the kitchen?”

“I’d be happy to,” Sanji smiled a bit, “But first, you, young lady, need to show me the marketplace.”

“With pleasure,” Cordelia let Ash jump into her arms. Because his big hugs would never ever get old, “Be careful. Behave yourself. Don’t make things too hard on Luffy and Usopp. Ok?”

“Ok, Mama,” Ash kissed her cheek, “Love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” Cordelia put him back on the floor. She shot a quick look to Nami and Zoro, who would definitely be the ones watching over Ash more than Luffy and Usopp.

#one piece #one piece fan fiction #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #one piece brainrot #accidental pregnancy

10 notes · View notes