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attapullman · 6 months

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Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!

robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew

“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.

You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago.

Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”

“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.

The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups.

As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.

And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?

Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place.

You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.

“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”

“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.

Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.

When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.

You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”

But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street.

From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves.

At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.

“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect.

The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.

“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”

His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.

Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”

Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.

The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye.

Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious.

His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks.

As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug.

The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.”

A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him.

You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.

“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?”

The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”

You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.

“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”

A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.

You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”

To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.

Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”

By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.

He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen.

“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.

Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.

Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.

His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.

Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen.

Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.

He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace.

“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.

Your mouth can’t open fast enough.

You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.

Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.

When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”

His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”

“You.”

That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”

The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.

“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.”

You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?

You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.

As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.

You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.

“Did you still want your tea?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”

Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both.

When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door.

Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.

Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.

You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.

When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.

You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.

see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting

taglist: @callsign-mongoose

#robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #bob floyd fan fiction #robert bob floyd fan fiction #top gun maverick fan fiction #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #x reader #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd fluff #gn!reader #neighbor!bob

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kaiserthread · 4 months

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shopping spree

clothes/accessories the bllk boys buy you! characters: sae, kaiser, reo content: pro players, established relationship, f!reader, fluff lowkey my first time writing anything romantic so this might be ooc, was giggling soooooo hard while writing this part 2 here!

ITOSHI SAE - wool coat

took one look at you shivering and thought NO

buys you a nice wool coat for the winter months

he’s always giving you his when you guys are out together, might as well have your own for when he’s away

he sprays a bit of his cologne on it when he knows he’s going to be away from you for a while

sae worries about you, he hates when you're upset, hates when you get hurt, and most of all he hates seeing you in the cold and shivering because you refuse to wear a jacket that isn’t his. this brings him to his current predicament, he’ll have to leave you to go to training camp in the winter. “just don’t go, sae. who’s jacket am i going to wear?” you whine dramatically, draping yourself over the pile of clothes he's currently placing into his travel bag. “get off, I need those.” sae scolds. “and you have your own jackets.” “but they’re so much better when they're yours.” you pout at him. he sighs, knowing he’s already lost this battle. the morning he leaves is gloomy. he leaves early, waking you to kiss you goodbye and shushing you back to sleep. as you’re leaving you find a note on the hall closet, sae’s handwriting reminding you to grab a jacket. you open the closet to find a brand new wool coat, almost identical to his. you pull it on and catch the familiar scent of his cologne. reaching into the pocket you find a handwritten note that reads: for whenever you miss me, i love you darling

MICHAEL KAISER - jewelry

the possessive type honestly, takes note of your preferred metal and buys you a thin chain with a delicate ‘M’ on it

a charm bracelet with a blue rose charm

a dainty sapphire anklet to show off during the warm summer months

takes every excuse to buy you some new bling

michael comes home after practice with a familiar looking gift bag. he sets it down on the coffee table and kisses your cheek in greeting, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sits down next to you on the couch. “is that for me?” you gesture to the bag in front of you, “what’s the occasion?” you ask as michael leans against you, “practice wasn’t as long as usual so I got to come home to you earlier.” he reaches for the bag and takes out a slim box. you open it and find a sleek new bracelet, perfectly complimenting the others stacked on your wrist. “thank you mihya, it’s beautiful!” you exclaim, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “but seriously, did i forget something? you can tell me.” he pushes himself up to kiss you, his breath warm on your lips as he whispers, “no my love, let me spoil you, it’s the least you deserve.”

MIKAGE REO - louboutin red bottoms

okayyyyy go rich boy!

but seriously he wants to give you the best of everything including something as simple as a pair of heels

so he buys you a pair of 100mm pumps in both the beige and black colorway

watched you struggle walking in them for .5 seconds before putting in an order for a pair with a lower heel

“are you sure you’re comfortable in those? let me order a pair with a lower heel.” reo is seriously worried that you’re going to trip and break your face trying on the gift he bought you. “babe seriously, it’s fine. i’ll break them in, put your phone down, are you seriously ordering another pair?!” you exclaim, moving over towards him to try to grab the phone out of his hand. reo is having none of it, taking advantage of the fact that your new heels are throwing you off balance to run off into the ensuite bathroom to place the order. he walks back into the room to find you sitting on the edge of your shared bed, arms crossed and pouting. he moves in front of you to kiss the pout off your lips, “angel don’t worry about it, that money is nothing to me. i want you to be comfortable.”

#blue lock manga #blue lock #itoshi sae #michael kaiser #reo mikage #sae x reader #kaiser x reader #reo x reader #bllk fluff #bllk headcanons #kaiserthread

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roosterforme · 10 months

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Batting Practice Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Moving in with you and Everett was the most natural thing Bradley could have done. He felt loved and comfortable, and he hoped the two of you felt the same. But it took a night out drinking at the Hard Deck for you to mention some things that Bradley would have preferred you told him when you were sober.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Do you even own anything?" you asked, looking around Bradley's beige apartment. There was a stack of about ten moving boxes, two tubs of baseball cards, and some laundry baskets of clothing. "This is alarming. I'm marrying a man who doesn't own anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes at you. "I tried to tell you we didn't need Molly and Bob to come help. I could have done this with Everett." He had explained to you that his apartment came fully furnished and he had claimed that he didn't own much. But this was next level.

"Listen, Kitten," he added, wrapping his arms around you while Everett tossed Bradley's baseball caps into one of the laundry baskets. "I haven't really had a home since I was in high school. Barracks and fully furnished apartments were it." Your heart melted as he added, "Thanks for inviting me to live in your home."

"It's about to become yours, too. You can do whatever will make you happy and comfortable."

Just then Molly and Bob showed up, and Bradley's eyes lit up. "Everett!" he shouted. "We're getting a Phillies room!"

"What?" you sputtered, laughing at his excitement. "I didn't say-"

"A Phillies room!" Ev chanted, pumping his fists in the air.

"Shit," you whispered as Molly came up behind you and gave you a hug.

"This is it?" Bob asked, looking around at Bradley's stuff. "You needed my truck for five boxes?"

Bradley shrugged. "I tried to tell her not to bother calling you. Actually," he said, turning toward the refrigerator, "can you help me finish these beers?" He opened four bottles and handed two of them to Bob.

"Ladies?" Bob asked, but you both shook your heads.

You and Molly dropped down onto the couch together while the three boys messed around in the kitchen, talking about this theoretical Phillies room. She looked a little worried, and you didn't like the way she had been chewing on her fingernails. "What's wrong?" you asked her softly.

"Nothing," she replied immediately with a smile so fake, you were shocked she even tried it on you.

"Maybe Bob still believes that smile is genuine, but I know better. Tell me what's up."

She sighed and stretched out on your lap. "I'm so tired from work. I don't like the one douchebag doctor who works day shifts. He keeps giving me a hard time."

Your skin started to prickle. "What did he do? Did you tell Bob?"

"Yeah," she groaned, closing her eyes as you rubbed her shoulder. "I told Bob. The doctor just hates me and acts like I'm incompetent. No biggie. I know I do a good job."

It was a fight to calm your breathing down. "You actually save people's lives before the doctor even shows up in the room."

"See? You get it," she mumbled, and then she fell asleep while the guys loaded the Bronco and Bob's truck with Bradley's meager belongings.

She slept until it was time for Bradley to lock his door one last time, and then she stood to use the bathroom. You popped up and pulled Bob into the completely empty bedroom, but before you could say anything, he was talking.

"Is Molly mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes sad and searching yours.

"Oh, Bob," you gasped, reaching for his hand. "I don't think so. But she seems a little stressed out, doesn't she?"

He shrugged helplessly. "She keeps telling me it's because of work, but... I'm afraid she's been so quiet because she's tired of me."

You gasped. "No!" you whispered in a harsh voice. "She loves you!"

But he just looked at the floor and held tight to your hand until Bradley walked in and asked, "Ready to go?" If Bradley thought it was strange that you and Bob were holding hands and that you hugged him so tight he groaned, he didn't say anything.

"You'll tell me if she says anything to you?" Bob asked quietly as you and he followed Bradley out to the living room.

"Of course," you replied. But when Molly came out of the bathroom, she went right for Bob's arms, and they both looked immediately happier. They were fine. They had to be fine.

"Mommy? Can I ride in Bob's truck?" Everett asked, and Bradley looked scandalized.

"I thought you liked the Bronco!" he said, tossing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I do, Dad! But I wanted to see the truck, too!" You pressed your lips together as Bradley scooped Everett into his arms and kissed him.

"Okay, but you can't end up liking it as much as the Bronco, alright?" he asked, ushering everyone out of the apartment.

"I won't," Everett promised, and Bradley carried him down the stairs and out to the parking lot. Then he switched Everett's booster seat to the second row of Bob's pickup truck and helped him get buckled.

When you and he were finally alone in the Bronco, you asked, "Going for dad of the year?"

He looked smug as he kissed you and said, "I'm already Coach of the year and fiancé of the year. I'm going for broke. Plus Bob drives like an elderly person. Ev will be so bored."

You laughed as he pulled out onto the main road and headed toward your house. His house too, now. "I was thinking about... changing my last name when we get married," you told him as he changed lanes.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing at you with eager eyes as he drove. "Really?"

You groaned. "I still have Danny's last name, so I think I'd like to change it to Bradshaw if that's okay with you."

He reached for your hand immediately. "Hell yes! It's more than okay with me, Kitten! I just didn't want you to think I'd be upset if you didn't."

You wanted to say something about Everett. You really wanted to tell him about Danny and the child support and the fact that the papers had been served. But you just couldn't. Not right now. Because he was parking a little crookedly in the driveway and reaching for you, and you were in his arms and his lips were on yours.

You were moaning with his hand up your shirt and underneath your bra when you heard Bob's truck.

"Told you he drives slow," Bradley grunted. "Could have fucked you real quick before they got here."

You burst into laughter as you climbed out of the Bronco and went to get Everett. When he bounded toward Bradley, you heard him whisper, "It was fun, but not as fun as the Bronco."

Bradley tousled his hair and said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Then you and Molly sat on the porch steps with some cookies while the guys did all the work.

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

A few days later, Bradley was waiting next to Bob in their matching Navy Waves uniforms. The first game of their season was about to start, but none of their promised spectators were there yet. "Did Molly get hung up at work?" Bradley asked him, checking the time again on his phone.

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "I don't know, Rooster." He looked miserable. "I guess. Maybe."

"Well, did you text her?"

"Yeah. She didn't respond."

Bradley paused for a moment. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know," Bob sighed, running his hand over his mouth. But then Bradley saw you and Molly running from the parking lot with Everett leading the way.

"There they are!" Bradley said, lightly hitting Bob's arm before he headed toward Everett.

"Bradley! We got stuck in traffic!" Everett said, running into his hug. Bradley, Coach, Dad... he liked it when Everett called him any of those things.

"We were missing you," Bradley replied, kissing the top of his head as you hustled up next.

"Good luck!" you told him, kissing him softly as you were out of breath. Then Bradley realized that all three of you were wearing matching white and navy blue shirts. He looked at the back of Molly's as she headed toward Bob, and he noticed that it said Floyd along with the number 30 on it.

When he spun Everett around in his arms, he laughed. "Bradshaw shirts? I love it!" Then you turned for him as well, and he got such a lovely view of your ass in your denim shorts along with his name on your back. He'd be taking all of that clothing off you later.

"Go," you told him, turning back around and pushing him toward the dugout. "The game is about to start!"

Bradley collected Bob from Molly and dragged him down to the field for the game against the Army Rockets. Bob seemed to have perked up a bit, and after the national anthem was played, Bradley took to the pitcher's mound.

After he struck out the first three batters in a row, he stood there, shocked. "Hell yeah, Bradshaw!" the left fielder said, as they switched to offense. Bradley batted fifth, and the Navy Waves managed to score one run.

And the whole time, Bradley could hear Everett shouting for him. When he looked up into the stands, you waved to him. Every single time. He could even see the light catch your ring. "Fuck," he groaned, trying to stay focused on the game. But he was so in love with you now. He loved living at your house and using all your cool body washes in the shower. He loved the way you woke him up with kisses in the morning. He loved tucking Everett in at night. He loved making pancakes in your kitchen.

You were the best kind of distraction. As the game progressed, he kept pitching pretty well. By the last inning, The Waves were up by five runs, and even though Bradley was tired, he told the coaches he'd be able to finish the game.

When he struck out the last batter in the ninth inning, Bradley heard Everett screaming over the rest of the fans. And he made sure to collect one of the game balls to take home.

"Good game!" Bob told him, gathering up his gear as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Molly like he was afraid she was going to vanish.

"You too. Nice double play," Bradley replied, following him up into the bleachers.

"I've never felt more patriotic than I do right now," Molly said with a laugh. "A military themed baseball game. Americana at its finest."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bradley replied with a laugh as he handed the baseball to Everertt.

Molly rolled her eyes so hard, Bradley feared for her vision. "Really, Bradley? You're the most patriotic thing here." Then she cleared her throat and puffed out her chest and tried to imitate Bradley in a deeper voice. "Hi, I'm Bradley Bradshaw. And I'm in the Navy. And my dad was in the Navy, too." Bradley couldn't contain his laughter, and neither could you and Bob as she continued. "And my mom was red, white and blue striped. And I'm so patriotic, I could only propose on Independence Day. And I'm going to rename my son Everett the Bald Eagle."

Bradley was doubled over in laughter. "You're obnoxious," he told Molly, but she just smirked at him.

"Where's the lie?" she asked, snuggled up against Bob as he laughed too.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to change Everett's name. At least not to that," he mumbled, following everyone as they made their way to the parking lot. When you wrapped your arm around Bradley's waist, he groaned. "I'm so sore."

"Poor thing," you crooned. "You want a backrub when we get home?"

Home. Bradley was going to drive home. Where he lived with his family.

"Are you offering?" he asked with a grin, but all he got in response was a sassy shrug. He loaded Everett and all of his gear into the Bronco and followed your car home.

And it's not like he ever meant to take over your job of parenting your son, but Bradley absolutely loved helping with Everett's bedtime routine. So he told you to go relax while he got the bathtub ready. Bradley sat on the bathroom floor against the wall, chatting with Everett about baseball and summer camp. He let Everett ask him a million questions and promised to teach him how to keep baseball statistics.

"You should teach my mom, too," he said. "Since she's really good at math."

"We should get her a stats binder for her birthday."

"We should get her a lot more baseball stuff, because she doesn't really have any."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "We wouldn't want her to look ridiculous when we're all decked out in Phillies gear and she's not."

Everett started to drain the tub while Bradley handed him a towel. "Do you think she'll let us paint the extra bedroom red when we make it a Phillies room?"

Bradley winced. "I don't know, kiddo. Let me discuss that one with her."

Bradley followed him into his room and got out some pajamas, but once Everett was changed and tucked in bed, he gasped. "Dad! I left the baseball from your game in my booster seat!"

"I'll go get it," Bradley replied, heart swelling.

"Can you autograph it for me, too?"

A strange emotion took over Bradley's entire body, just like it always did in these moments. He felt like laughing and crying at the same time. "Sure, Ev."

By the time Bradley retrieved the baseball, signed it and came back upstairs, Everett was sound asleep. So he left the ball on the dresser and kissed his forehead.

And then he walked into your bedroom. Well, the one that he shared with you now. And you were sitting in the middle of the bed wearing one of his oversized tee shirts. You had removed your makeup, but you still looked beautiful as you reached for him.

"Pulled out a big win today, Coach. Let me rub your back."

"Somehow I keep winning," he muttered, quickly undressing and tossing his baseball uniform into the hamper. You coaxed him into bed, on his stomach, and Bradley groaned softly as you straddled his lower back and sat on his butt. "Feels good, Kitten."

Your soft laughter filled the room. "I didn't even do anything yet." But your lips met the back of his neck as your hands worked at his stiff right shoulder, and Bradley was melting into the soft bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as you worked at a knot with your elbow.

"Does it hurt?" you whispered, taking a break and kissing that spot.

"No," he replied. "Keep going." But you kept going with your kisses instead of your massage. You gently grabbed his biceps and kissed along his spine and back up again until he was panting. "Kitten."

"Hmm?" you hummed against his shoulder blade. Then you licked his salty skin, and Bradley let you pin his wrists in place on either side of his head. You whispered something filthy in his ear. "You're getting me worked up, and you're not even the one doing the touching, Coach. I'm gonna need you to fuck me."

But when he tried to move, you were firm with your hands, so he stayed put, feeling the throb of his erection against the mattress. You licked along his neck and behind his ear, and Bradley had to keep from bucking for relief. He was gritting his teeth against the sensation of your mouth brushing the shell of his ear as you said, "Your back is sexy. How is your back sexy?"

"Baby, please let me fuck you," he begged before you climbed off of him and stayed on all fours. Bradley slipped himself inside you with one quick thrust that had you moaning, and he slipped his fingers around your necklace chain. Very gently, he pulled you closer to him, careful not to harm your little paw print charm. Your back was arched deliciously, and he pushed the tee shirt up to your neck and caressed your tits.

"Bradley," you whined, but he didn't go any faster. Just languid thrusts, his cock brushing every sensitive spot inside you. He watched your pretty pussy take him as he yanked a little more on your necklace. With one hand on your ass, he guided you through a slow buildup to an orgasm that had you moaning his name for a solid two minutes.

"Oh hell," he growled, spilling himself inside you, eyes closed and head tipped back. He released your necklace, and let you collapse onto your belly. You squealed as he pressed himself on top of you and kissed your upper back. "You're sexy here too, Kitten."

You giggled as he ended up giving you a back massage instead. "Ugh...your hands are so big."

"I pitched a full game, and I only got a two minute massage," he complained.

"Your fault for getting a boner," you replied, clearly enjoying the way he was touching you.

Eventually Bradley took a shower and pulled on some clean underwear. You were nearly asleep when he climbed into bed, but you said, "I've been thinking about our wedding."

"Go on," he replied, kissing your scrunched up nose. "I'd love to hear more."

You yawned and whispered, "I think you'll like my idea." And then you told Bradley what you wanted to do. And then you said you wanted to do it in the next month or two. And he had you on your back, smothering your face in kisses while you giggled.

"Wait," he said, pausing his kisses to look at you. "Is that even possible? Can we actually do that?"

You nodded. "I think so. If you know the right people. You wanna do it?"

"Yes, Baby. One hundred percent."

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

Thunderstorms had rolled in overnight, and you woke up to find Everett in your bed with you and Bradley. It had been quite a while since a storm had sent him into your room, but this one was particularly loud. Everett was curled up in the middle of the bed with Bradley's arm wrapped around him and his head on Bradley's shoulder. They were both sound asleep.

You gasped at how sweet they looked and grabbed your phone to take a picture. And then you checked under the covers to make sure Bradley was wearing underwear. Okay, great. You'd have to remind him to keep doing that.

As you swiped through a bunch of texts from Molly, you cringed. She had sent them at three in the morning. She wasn't getting enough sleep, trying to transition from overnights to daytime shifts. You knew she needed to take better care of herself. "Oh, Molly," you sighed, climbing out of bed, leaving the boys to sleep a little longer.

Bob and I are going to that Navy bar tonight. You and my future turd-in-law wanna come?

You snorted as you turned on the coffee maker. Maybe Everett could hang out with Maverick tonight? You'd have to see if that would work. You also needed to make a ton of phone calls at work today. When Bradley and Everett never surfaced, you had to go back upstairs and wake them up for work and summer camp respectively. And then you had to listen to them both bug you about turning the extra bedroom into a Phillies room.

You just shook your head until they were both starting to whine. "I don't care!" you finally said with a laugh. "Do what you want, but you need to keep the spare bed in there."

Then they rushed out to the Bronco together with just enough time for Bradley to drop Everett off and still make it to North Island on time. You were being outnumbered. You were being overruled. They were teaming up against you. But honestly, you didn't even mind. They could have a Phillies room. Because now that Bradley was living with you, your life already felt less hectic. You felt like you could breathe with the way he did things like take control of bedtime and breakfasts.

You practically floated into work. You even waved to Frank, with your left hand so hopefully he'd see your ring. Then you got settled at your desk and made a few phone calls. And it turns out, you can have the wedding you want if you just drop the right names. And it was a good thing you saved Jake Seresin's number in your phone.

While you were desperately trying to finish up one of your projects that was precariously close to becoming overdue, Molly started texting you again.

ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?! Bar tonight?

"Chill," you whispered, texting Bradley instead to try to find out if Ev could play with Maverick for a little bit at his hangar. When you left work that afternoon with the reassurance that Bradley would take Everett to hang out with Mav, you went home to get ready to go to the bar.

It was amazing how you had the time to do your makeup and hair. You even tried on several outfits before settling on your black bodysuit and some denim shorts with sandals. Bradley was definitely going to like this. You just had to make sure he enjoyed it later and not right now, because you could hear his key in the door as you ran down the stairs.

"I told Molly we'd meet them at the bar in twenty minutes. There's a plate of leftovers in the fridge for you. And I planned our wedding."

Bradley was in his flight suit, frozen just inside the front door with his keys hanging from his hand. "You planned our wedding? And you're wearing your kitten bodysuit?" he asked with a small smile.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his cheek and unzipping his flight suit as you pulled him toward the kitchen. "We have a wedding date."

His smile grew. "You gonna tell me when that might be, Kitten?"

"September third."

"Sounds perfect. And you gonna let me play with you and your kitten costume?"

You bit your lip. "You're really just going to be okay with getting married in a few weeks?"

"Of course," he rasped, kissing your neck. "I'm ready."

"Okay, Coach. And if you're really good, I'll put on my ears and whiskers after we get home later. Now eat your dinner."

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

Bradley had seen you drink before. But he had never seen you drunk before. It was highly entertaining. You and Molly were truly a sight to behold, both wearing skin tight tops and giggling. Even Bob looked like he was enjoying himself more than he had the past couple days as Molly clung to his side and kept tucking her hand up the hem of his shirt.

"Those sailors keep buying me drinks," you whispered so loudly, Bradley had to laugh. Sure enough, there were some guys at the bar who were buying drinks for all the women, hoping one of them would stick. "I've had like four whiskey sours," you said, holding up three fingers.

"You're so fucking good at math, Kitten," he replied, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When you giggled next to his ear, Bradley briefly considered taking you to the bathroom for a quickie. But to his dismay, he saw that Molly and Bob seemed to be on their way back there already.

"Well scratch that idea," Bradley murmured as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

"Rooster! Come play pool!" Nat called, and you started to push him toward the pool table.

"Go play with your friends," you insisted. "I'm going to get another drink and then look for Molly."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that just yet," Bradley said with a grimace that he was sure just went right over your head. "And don't flirt with too many sailors, Kitten."

"I'm not, Coach," you insisted, patting his abs through his shirt. "But they are just so friendly. They won't let me pay for anything."

Bradley shook his head as you weaved your way back to the bar. He kept an eye on you as Penny served you another whiskey sour, and then he saw Molly and Bob stumbling back as he took a shot at the pool table. Bob's cheeks were flushed, and his hair and glasses were a mess. Bradley had never seen him look happier. Molly kissed Bob and then made a beeline for you, and Bob definitely wasn't the only one watching her walk away.

Bradley was laughing as Bob made his way to the pool table. "They're okay over there with those guys, right?" Bob asked, jerking his finger over his shoulder.

"You afraid Molly's going to ditch you or something?"

"I mean..." he started, adjusting his glasses and fixing his hair. "I didn't give her a ring yet. You're a step ahead of me. So honestly, I'm always a little afraid something like that's gonna happen."

"Bob. Get real, man," Bradley said, chuckling as he watched Nat obliterate him at pool. "She just rocked your world in the bathroom."

He stuttered for quite a while before he managed to say, "Yeah, but look at her. She's gorgeous."

"Give it up, Bob. You're stuck with her now."

"Hi," you said, wrapping your arms around Bradley's waist from behind. You managed to make that one word sound like it had about seven syllables while you laughed.

"You having fun?" he asked. "Not getting into trouble?"

You were swaying on your feet and laughing. Even Molly wasn't this bad, nursing her glass of wine and whispering something to Bob that was making him blush again.

"I'm being so good," you promised. "Jake bought me a drink."

"Of course he did," Bradley replied when Jake handed you a beer. "I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you whenever I bring you here. And you might not be allowed to wear this next time." He ran his knuckles along your bodysuit that fit you like a second skin, and you sighed. "The sailors can look, and they can spend their money on you, but they can't touch my Kitten."

"That feels good," you gasped, and Bradley kissed your nose.

"You'll feel even better when I get you home later."

You handed your beer to Bradley and sunk your fingers into his hair, leaving him standing awkwardly with the bottle in one hand and his pool cue in the other.

"I wish you were Ev's dad," you whispered against his lips.

He set the cue against a stool and wrapped his arm around you. "Me too, Kitten." Truly, he would love that. But he didn't need it. He already had the two of you which was more than enough. More family than he ever thought he'd get.

"You'd never force my hand like Danny is," you added softly, looking up at him with unfocused eyes and a soft smile. "Never."

He could feel the goosebumps on his arms as he asked, "What do you mean, Baby?"

"You know," you sighed, rubbing yourself against him. "I'm paying for a lawyer, and what good is it going to do? I can't get Danny's name off Everett's birth certificate. I can't get full custody and parental rights. I can't have anything except child support, which I don't even want, because he's going to be a complete jerk and contest it until I'm ready to scream. And I'll have wasted

thousands of dollars on nothing when we could have taken a vacation or something."

Bradley was stunned. This was way more information than you'd given him about what was going on. "Kitten, if you want to go on vacation, I'll take you and Ev anywhere you want to go. Or I can pay for your lawyer."

"You sound just like Molly!" you complained, booping him on the nose and squishing his lips together.

Bradley tried not to laugh as Molly looked up from kissing Bob. "Did you call me?" she asked, and you started laughing hysterically.

Bradley checked the time and shook his head. As the designated driver, he should probably round the three of you up and get everyone home and pick up Everett on the way. But now you and Molly were both over by the jukebox, dancing with Bob to whatever song was playing, and Bradley just didn't have the heart to break it up yet.

But thirty minutes later, he was carrying you out to the parking lot while Bob and Molly stumbled along as well. And now he was mentally planning a family vacation. Maybe to the mountains over Everett's winter break? Disney World in the spring? He didn't know what the two of you would want to do, but he'd make it happen. Hell, he could even take you and Everett up to Los Angeles for a weekend. Whatever it ended up being, it would be perfect.

And Bradley would let you know when you were sober that you were by no means finished with the conversation about Danny.

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

Coach Daddy Bradley has moved in. And the boys are getting a Phillies room. And they have a wedding date! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 28

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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850 notes · View notes

neapolitanupsidedowncake · 7 months

Note

how mha characters would propose! Or just ask you out on a first date? 💗💗💗 Also I love ur blog sm its so cute!

BNHA BOYS PROPOSING 💖 gn!reader 💌

content warning: fluff, multiple char. x reader, mentions of wine

DENKI

i think from the first month or so of your relationship together he was thinking "im so gonna marry them 💖" but waited about 4 years or so into dating

he's really nervous about proposing 🥺😭

he wanted to make it special for his precious bean 💞

he asked kirishima and sero to help give him tips 😂

on the day he decided to propose he came to your house early in the morning so he could take you to a nice valley range

you guys just hang out at like 5 in the morning alone on top the pretty little hill he chose just talking about your life and some interesting things you saw recently

when suddenly (he was waiting for the perfect sunrise moment) he told you to follow him then close your eyes

he took you to a flower field nearby, knelt down and pulled out a pretty ring box (😭🥺) tells you to open your eyes!!

and it's just the cutest and nicest thing you've ever seen, and he tells you he loves you so much and he wants to spend eternity with you forever and ever 💗💗

IZUKU

this man goes all out!! and on your anniversary too!

on the day of your third anniversary, izuku is so excited and nervous because he really wanted to make a proposal special for you, his adorable little bean <;/3

he researched a LOT, and even finds out what knee to kneel on (left knee)

he dresses rather nice, debating for about thirty minutes with himself to dress more casually than a three piece suit, settling on wearing a beige sweater you gave him for his birthday.

he even asked his mom about tips, 💓 asking where some places would be nice to go to

he told you he wanted to meet at a shopping place for you to have some fun, then visit a park with pretty flowers

he takes you shopping for your anniversary gift for the day, and the whole time he holds your hand, thinking on how lucky he was to have you.

when it actually comes the time when you go to the park (the place he chose to propose) he's a little sweaty, nervous, and he fears you might just reject him

so when he suddenly, abruptly gets down on one knee (in his panic on his right knee), that wasn't his intention (he planned to do it in front of a pretty tree) but he's doing it

he's crying a little bit, and he starts off by saying that he loved you since he first talked to you in high school. he has a velvety ring box open, and he asks you "will you stay with me forever y/n?"

after you say yes, he's the happiest man in the world, crying, and he squeezes you in a tight hug 🥺💗💗 (in front of a park bench)

SHOTO

after about 3 years of dating, to propose, this guy makes a candlelight dinner for you two at your guys' house!!!!

fuyumi is so excited when she finds out because she LOVES you!!!

he asked his brother, natsuo if that was really cheesy or not, he said yeah, but he did it anyway.

he asked one of your friends secretly to take you out on the day he planned it all out, so it was a surprise for you

he made a meal you both liked, and he got fancy expensive candles and lit it with his fire a few minutes before you got home.

he even put some red rose petals around and on the table 💗💗

he makes sure to dress fancy, and for once even messes with his hair a little bit to make a nice style!

when your friend takes you home, you see the candlelight dinner, with the rose petals, and fancy wine and your soon to be fiancé in a nice suit 🥺💌

he walks you to the table and pulls your chair out for you (gentleman!!) and asks you how your day was with your friend.

you guys talk for a while, and after you both finish eating, he walks to your chair, kneels down, and pulls out an expensive looking ring box from his pocket.

in the soft candlelight, he says, "y/n, my love for you grows more and more every day, and I would be so lucky if you felt the same way. will you marry me?"

after you say yes, he fits the ring on you and decides to slow dance w you with some soft music in the back (🥺😭💗💗)

a/n: (lmao i think i changed the tense of the verbs like 3288432x but wtv lol) i like this prompt, it's really cute, and i love seeing cute proposals or hearing about them it's just too sweet yk? 🥺💖💖 i chose some of my favorite bois, i hope these reach your expectations anon!! so sorry for the long release date 😭

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eclipsedrgn · 8 months

Text

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

Batfamily x Reader || Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason may be rough around the edges, but he goes through hell to gather everyone you love for a very special day.

Credits: Music belongs to Khloe Rose, I changed the lyrics a bit to match the theme. Photos aren't mine, unfortunately I forgot to check the owners of it.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

5 whole years.

1825 days since he laid his eyes on you, the most beautiful girl he's every known. His girlfriend, his soon to be fiance.

Jason thought to the first time he met you, a complete accident, you weren't even suppose to be there. But there you are buying recipes to a pesto pasta you love making when a group of Black Mask's gang decided to rob the grocery store you were in. Jason was tracking the gang for a while, for territory reason, and saw the hostages.

He decided to attack.

He killed 6 of the men.

Jason found you crouched down at the milk aisle covered in blood, in front of you was one of the gang members, he guesses the 7th member dead on the ground.

"I-It was an accident" You whispered shakily, "He was going to attack me"

"Don't worry about it sweetheart" Jason says, his voice activator on, "He's a bad man. He doesn't deserve to live"

The next time he saw you was when he finally returned home to the Manor after many months of anger and anguish against his adopted father. You were standing there emotionless, you were going through a moment, you were missing your parents as they just dropped you off at Bruce's whilst revealing he's your biological father.

Jason placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. "You'll get used to it. You're a Wayne now. You gotta act like it"

You started to see him differently, not a sister-brother kind, but a more romantic side.

It was the gala when you officially started dating. You were wondering the hallway when you bumped into Jason, Bruce was going to introduce him back to the family while you are going to be known as his biological daughter. Jason was having a panic attack, guilt slowly eating him with how he treated his family when you kissed him.

"I'm sorry" You said, "You wouldn't calm down"

"Don't ever say sorry" he whispers against your lips as he presses them back to yours.

And now 5 years later, a lot of kisses and makeouts, dancing in the halls of the manor. Jason knew you were the one and he was ready.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Jason flew to your hometown where you grew up, he asks threaten Tim to give him the address where you used to live. He knocks on the door and your mom answered the door. Your mom loves Jason and she would remind you everyday you guys talk to each other. Jason takes out the small red box revealing the ring inside, a custom ring that you always talked about when you get engaged, it was beautiful.

His next stop was your friends, childhood friends, school friends which ever he found. Jason told them about his plan, which was to fly them to Gotham to surprise you. You have been telling him how much you missed them.

Jason flew back with his heart full, his next plan was to prepare. You didn't want a big engagement, a simple yet thoughtful one was the one you like. So he decided to do it in the backyard of the Manor, in the beautiful garden that Alfred works so hard.

He (finally) asks his brothers and sisters for help.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The day of the engagement was perfect, the sun was shining, not too hot for you to sweat and not too cold for you to have a sweater on. Stephanie, Cass and Barbara took you out to do your nails, god forbid they let you get engage with plain nails. While Jason and the boys went to get the backyard ready.

"I can't believe today is the day" Dick comments while carrying boxes. "Are you excited?"

"Of course I am" Jason grumbles, "Are you sure this is the color she likes?"

The colors consist of beige and while.

"Trust me Jay" Tim grins, "She's been playing sims lately and she's been decorating with these colors"

"She always plays sims" Damian mutters as he passes by.

Once the decorations are up, the boys went to their rooms to get ready. With a shaky breath, Jason nervously straighten his shirt as he stared himself into the mirror in front of him.

"She will love it, Master Jason" he hears Alfred.

"Do you think so?" Jason quietly asks.

"Do you trust her?" Alfred asks, his hand on Jason's shoulder.

Jason nodded, "With my life"

"Then you know, deep in your heart that she will say yes" he says.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You wore a pretty light pink off shoulder sun dress with matching pink flats. Barbara curled your hair while Steph did your makeup, you questioned why they're dolling you up but you shrug knowing it's typical for girls to do this once in a while.

Once your finish, Stephanie sent a text to Jason with a thumbs up who replied back that he's ready. You four made your way to the backyard.

"What's going on?" You asked giggling.

"Alfred demanded Bruce to do a family picnic in the backyard, so we are now on our way there" Barbara lies.

The curtains on the main floor are shut, covering what's really going on, but you didn't question it. You reach towards the doornob, not noticing Steph bringing out her phone to record as Barbara did the same.

You open the door as the music starts playing;

youtube

Well, I guess the third time's not a charm Nursing a three times broken heart And down the rabbit hole again

Your eyes widen as you see the boys including Bruce and Alfred standing on each side of Jason as he smiles when he spots you.

I put myself in another world Where I can be any other girl 'Cause I don't really wanna face it

Cass places her hand on your back as she gave you a soft smile, she whispers. "Go on"

Your heart flutters as you began your journey to your boyfriend, you notice the white-pink petals on the floor, your favorite colored flower that you told Jason on your first date.

'Cause, if it isn't real You can pretend all you want It's all you'll ever need "That's not healthy, " they said "To live in your head" But it hurts a lot less to me

You covered your face when realizing the song that was playing, the song you became obsessed with once it came out. You love this song. And everyday, it reminded you how much you love Jason.

The man of your dreams.

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like if they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life But I get let down by both the bad boys and the nice guys I'm tired of giving more than I receive So I'll just stick to the boys Who don't know me

To you, Jason was the fantasy boy you've always wanted, the one who loved you with all your heart. The one who made you smile, laugh and cared with all your being.

Oh, I hid his number, I almost called Like, maybe he's hurting after all I can't afford to be that naïve I'll just keep wishing it was me In that ending scene Where they're meeting up halfway And they're kissing in the rain It's a little bit cliché But I love it anyway

Memories of the two of you flashes before your eyes, the good and the bad, tears starts to pool in your eyes as you approached Jason. His hand out as you reached for him.

"Hi" You whispered.

'Cause it's better than when you're walking home And the rain starts pouring But you're all alone

"Hey baby" he whispers back as you both a bit further from the family.

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like if they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life But I get let down both the bad boys and the nice guys I'm tired of giving more than I receive So I'll just stick to the boys Who don't know me

You appraoched a lovely scene of fluffy pillows with your favorite drink and favorite snacks you love to eat while being in the lair.

You start to gasps as tears fell, Jason's hands cups your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumbs. "Hey baby, breathe"

"I'm sorry" You cried quietly.

"I love you" Jason begins, "5 years ago, our journey began when you kissed me in the halls of the Manor to calm me down and I knew, you are gonna be the person in my life who's able to do that"

I'd rather keep on dreaming of someone I'll never meet (Ohh-oh) than give love to another one who won't choose me

"I can't..." Jason sniffs as his tears falls slowly, "I can't imagine my life without you. You are someone that I can't imagine living my life without and I have... I have to make you mine. Forever"

"Oh fuck" You cursed knowing what's coming next as you covered your face.

Jason chuckles at your reaction, "(Y/N) (L/N), you have been the love of my life, my girlfriend, my whole world..."

Getting down on one knee, Jason brings out the small red box opening it to see the ring that sits there.

"Will you marry me?"

I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be I spend all of my time imagining What it would be like If they existed My parents tell me I should look for one in real life (ohh-oh) And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh) I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh) So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me

You nodded frantically as you jumped into his arms shouting "YES!" the entire family cheers as Jason places the ring on your left finger and kisses you passionately.

And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh) I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh) So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me

You pull away as you felt three heavy weight on you, you grinned as you felt his brothers hugging you tightly as you squeal when seeing your family and friends running towards you.

"You did this?" You asked Jason with a wide smile.

"I bought your friends and parents here to see you get proposed" Jason smiles pecking your lips.

"You remembered" You whispers.

He nods, "Of course I did, how did you think I pulled this off?"

You gave him the brightest smile as you flash your ring towards your family and friends who greeted you.

Jason stood there with his family, congratulating him as he smiles watching you hugging the people you love. He pulled it off, the tiredness, the nervousness he felt finally went away when you said yes. Now, Jason knew, the next step is sealing the deal.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #redhood #batfamily x reader #batsis #batsis in law #batfamily proposal #Youtube

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slutforsilverfoxes · 9 months

Text

Oliver and His Company

[A/N: This can be read as a standalone, but if you want context on Aaron & reader’s relationship, find their story here and here! Enjoy 🖤]

4 times Aaron Hotchner refused to admit that he’s a cat person…

1) A Spicy Upgrade

“I swear, Em, it was like an out of body experience,” you tell your best friend through the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you balance grocery bags in one hand and fish your keys out of your pocket with the other.

“So everything was just backwards?” Emily laughs.

“Yes!” you cry, equal parts miffed by your dream and excited to have somehow slotted the key into the lock in the correct orientation without looking. “Pen was, like, fifty shades of beige, and everyone else was super bright and colorful! Hotch was wearing a suit worthy of Elle Woods herself,” you assert.

“I would pay a stupid amount of money to see that,” your best friend snickers. “Can we please get him a pink suit?”

“Not gonna lie, he looked pretty hot,” you muse quietly as you shuffle down the hall to the kitchen. “I’ll work on…that…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately, sorry to have worried her. “Just found my man in an interesting position. Call you later, love you, bye,” you rush out in a whisper, ending the call and snapping a photo for your personal album before the opportunity disappears. Clearing your throat, you place the last of the grocery bags on the counter with a solid thud. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

Aaron’s answer is muffled given the fact his head is currently in the spice cabinet, the rest of his tall form tucked under him, ass comically up in the air for better leverage. You bend down with a groan and open the adjacent cabinet to pop your head in, meeting his sheepish smile and reddening cheeks. Pressing your lips to his, you murmur, “I didn’t quite get that.“

“I said-” He pauses to capture your lips in another sweet kiss, and the butterflies that have taken up residence in your belly since the first day you met Aaron Hotchner stir to life. “I read online that it’s easier for cats to open doors with handles than knobs, so I’m fixing all the doors before you move in.”

“You’re what?” You bump your head against the top of the cabinet in shock, letting out a harsh curse that you’re glad Jack isn’t around to hear.

“Oh, honey,” Aaron tuts softly, unfolding himself from his spot to help you out and delicately rubbing the tender area on the back of your head.

“You- by yourself- you’re swapping out every single handle in this house for Oliver?” You don’t mean to sound incredulous, but there’s no way this man is real. Then again, he bought this house six months into your relationship so that you could each have an office space and ample room for Jack and one or two additional little Hotchners to grow up- although he hadn’t divulged the latter part of that plan to you when he gifted you a key.

“I know it sounds ridiculous-”

“No,” you cut him off immediately, molding your palms against his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss, your lips quirking up in a victorious grin. “It sounds like something a loving cat dad would do.”

Aaron scoffs before muttering, “Just don’t want him getting stuck, that’s all.”

“Right,” you draw out the word, one eyebrow raised playfully. “Totally not cause you’re a cat person. And that’s why I spotted an empty box sporting a picture of a cat tree as tall as you in the garage?”

“I never said I dislike cats, I’m just a dog guy!” Aaron insists, his words falling on deaf ears as you playfully hum a tune from The Aristocats while arranging the groceries in the fridge and he returns to his project.

2) A Sleepy Surprise

Toeing your shoes off in the mud room, you call out, “Boys? I’m home!” The novelty of getting to say those words has yet to wear off even though the last of your moving boxes are piled up on the curb, waiting to be recycled.

There’s no answering pitter patter of feet in the hallway nor voices greeting your arrival, but the sneakers lined up next to yours- one large pair in understated colors, one much smaller pair with Darth Vader on one shoe and Luke Skywalker on the other- tell you your little family is definitely home. You place your car keys on their designated hook before making your way down the hall, pausing at the threshold of the living room with a smile on your face at the sight before you.

Aaron’s lying on his back, his tall form taking up the entire length of the couch, with Jack tucked into his side and an orange ball of fur curled up on his chest, rising and falling with each peaceful breath of his. You let out a content sigh, warmth blooming in your chest from the overwhelming sense of comfort and love these three have brought into your life. Holding your hair back so it doesn’t tickle your darling boy’s face, you press a delicate kiss to his cheek and his mouth turns upward for the briefest of moments. Then you nuzzle your nose against the soft fur between your cat’s ears, and he stirs with a half-hearted chirp before curling up even tighter on his literal man-made bed.

“You’re home,” Aaron murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper with a guilty pout, carding your fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to make dinner.”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far, and you turn back to find just who exactly Jack inherited the puppy dog eyes from. “We can order in tonight. Stay with me?”

You gesture to the full couch and ask, “Where?”

Aaron tips his chin down to see Oliver purring contentedly on his chest, and he taps his head until the cat sits up with bleary eyes. “You’re in your mom’s spot.”

You stifle a laugh as your cat pointedly yawns in your boyfriend’s face, then takes his time using Aaron’s solid body to stretch before flouncing away in search of a bed with less attitude. Aaron looks up at you with a self-satisfied grin and pats the newly vacated space. Shaking your head as you ease yourself down to lay across his body, you chide, “That was mean.”

“Never too young to learn about sharing,” he pontificates.

“Mm, yes, what a poignant lesson from father to son,” you respond, voice muffled against Aaron’s chest.

“Step-cat, at best. And don’t you even say it- I’m not a cat person.”

“Sure, babe.”

3) A New Purr-spective

“Jack-Jack,” you call out with a knock against the doorframe to get the little Hotchner’s attention. He looks up from his latest art project with a smile and says, “Yeah?”

“Daddy washed your uniform so you’re all set for tomorrow’s game. And I wanted to ask you about…this,” you offer hesitantly, flipping the shirt in your hands around so he can see Hotchner displayed at the top and the number matching his jersey. “Would it be okay if I wore this so we can match?”

“Does Daddy have one, too?” His excitement- and nonchalance about you sporting their last name- has relief flooding through you, and you mirror his eager smile.

“Of course! Except his is even cooler cause it says ‘Coach’ on the front,” you respond with a click of your teeth. “I made one for Uncle Dave, too!”

“Awesome. You’re the best!” Jack proclaims.

“No, you are.”

“Nu uh, you,” he insists.

“Nope! You!” You let the word be drawn out as you make your escape down the hall, peals of laughter from Jack’s room echoing behind you.

“I have received official approval to wear my shirt,” you announce as you cross into the master bedroom, only to find the space empty. You can hear Aaron’s voice in hushed tones from the walk-in closet, so you approach quietly thinking that he’s on the phone.

“…not exactly your textbook psychopath, right?” He pauses, then continues, “Right. So there must be a piece of the profile we’re missing, something that explains the evolution of the kills with the alarming disorganization of the crime scenes. Do you think we could be dealing with two unsubs?”

Aaron’s phone is on the bedside table, and he’s using both hands to wrestle one of his dress shirts onto a hanger. Then, you spot his silent partner- Oliver’s sitting in his bed, in the nook that Aaron built into the closet for him, languidly cleaning his paws as your boyfriend theorizes aloud.

“So,” you start, crossing your arms and leaning against the wide doorframe, “you still maintain that you’re not a cat person?”

You can see the back of Aaron’s neck turning red at having been caught, but he studiously carries on putting the clean laundry away. Without turning to face you, he asserts, “I’m just… using him as a soundboard. Animals are excellent judges of character.”

“Congratulations, Ollie,” you offer proudly to your son, “you’re the very first cat to join the Behavioral Analysis Mew-nit.”

“Now that’s bad, even for you,” Aaron chuckles, and you bark out a, “Hey!” with faux umbrage. “When are you going to admit you love this cat?”

“I do love this cat,” your boyfriend counters, finally turning to face you. He curls his arm around your waist to pull you against him and speaks between kisses dotted along your nose and cheeks, “I’m just not a cat person.”

Smoothing your hands across his chest with playfully narrowed eyes, you mutter, “The Hotchner doth protest too much, methinks.”

4) Paw-sitively Whipped

“Bedtime, my little bubbas,” you raise your voice to be heard over the churning of the dishwasher as it starts up, drying your hands on a towel while you walk into the living room. Jack is sprawled out on the floor, flicking a feather toy on a stick back and forth that has Ollie frantically giving chase. You’re honestly not sure which little guy is more entertained by the game. “But I’m helping Oliver get his exercise! Daddy says he’s looking chunky lately,” Jack negotiates.

You and your cat turn to Aaron in unison, the man in question suddenly engrossed in an article on his phone. “Daddy’s lawyer genes certainly passed on to you, huh, Jack?” The little Hotchner grins proudly up at you in response, but even that sweet face doesn’t break your resolve. “C’mon, my love, we left off at a really good cliffhanger last night, remember?”

“You’re right,” Jack gasps, suddenly inspired to get ready for bed. “I’ll be ready in two minutes!”

“Make it three- you need to brush your teeth for a full two, Jack,” Aaron calls as he zooms past you to his bathroom.

“Okay!”

“Alright, Weight Watchers,” you snort, tweaking Aaron’s nose while he looks up at you sheepishly, “who’s on reading duty tonight?”

“I’ve got it,” he declares, tugging on your hand to guide you into his open lap. You settle against him with a sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and pressing lazy kisses to his skin. Aaron turns his head to capture your lips in a sweet kiss that quickly grows more heated, and you let out a whimper when he cups the back of your neck to hold you more firmly to him until Jack’s little voice rings out down the hall.

“I’m ready for bed!”

“And that’s your cue, Daddy,” you laugh, patting his chest fondly before detaching yourself from him.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he declares in a murmur, and you can’t resist a smack to his shapely ass before parting ways in the hall.

You run through your own nightly routine, then make your way back to Jack’s room to say goodnight. You find Aaron with his son settled on his lap as he reads, and Ollie is settled on his favorite boy’s lap, purring up a storm. Your boyfriend is absentmindedly scratching his chin, pausing only to turn to the next page in the book. Then Aaron shifts to hold the book with both hands, and Ollie bats at his arm until he relents and resumes petting him. He looks up to find you standing in the doorway, the ghost of a smirk twitching at your lips, and you mouth, You are so a cat person.

He smiles back and shakes his head in response, refusing to give in.

…and the 1 time he finally did.

When you open the front door, you’re surprised to find the house dark. Given your shared line of work and healthy dose of paranoia, you and Aaron always leave at least one light on when the house is empty. But then you hear Jack giggle, “She’s coming!” and Aaron quietly shushing him, and a smile graces your face at whatever adorable surprise awaits you.

You flip on the light to find the foyer decorated with balloons dancing across the ceiling and streamers hanging down, each one adorned with pictures of you and Aaron, you and Jack, and your little family together. Your eyes immediately well up with tears seeing all the memories you’ve created and thinking about all the love you’ve been blessed with thanks to this family.

You walk through, awestruck, touching the Polaroids and printed pictures as you pass them. By the time you reach the living room and your eyes settle on Aaron with Jack standing pressed against his leg, your little boy holding your cat in his arms, you’re damn near sobbing.

“This is why you sent me to get my nails done, huh?” you ask through a half sniffle, half laugh. “You boys certainly were busy.”

Aaron smiles at you and holds out his free hand, and you grab onto him like a lifeline, letting him pull you in before bending down to press a flurry of kisses along Jack’s squishy cheeks. Ollie lets out a squeak of protest in the same timbre as Jack’s ticklish giggle, and you relent your attack with a pleased grin.

“Jack has a very important question to ask you,” Aaron murmurs, then winks at his son.

Jack raises Ollie up as high as he can, not unlike the scene out of The Lion King, and a glint of light flashes at you from your cat’s collar.

“Aaron,” you breathe out, moments before Jack excitedly asks, “Will you marry us, Y/N?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer softly, looking up at Aaron as if he hung all the stars in the sky to find your adoring gaze reflected in his eyes.

—————

Lying in bed that night tangled up between the sheets and Aaron’s legs, you absentmindedly trail your fingers across his chest and muse, “Mighty interesting that a vehemently self-proclaimed not cat person would use a cat to propose, isn’t it?”

“You’re still on this, hm?” he murmurs from above you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Merely making an observation,” you answer back lazily, then roll over until you body is nestled between his legs, your hands pressed against his chest so you can look at him directly. “I lied, I’m still on this,” you concede with a playful grin. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you’re not a cat person, Aaron Hotchner.”

He hums, then leans up to capture your lips in a series of soft, slow kisses that nearly make you forget your name, let alone the challenge you’ve posed. “Can’t do that, honey,” he finally admits between pecking your lips.

“Cause you are!”

He laughs, his fingers ghosting up and down your spine. Aaron notices you shiver under his touch and pulls the sheets up higher on your body while you settle against the warmth and security of his broad chest. “Honestly, I have been since day one.”

“Oh yeah?” You attempt to goad him, but your sass come out muffled thanks to your lips pressed to his skin.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly as if you haven’t been lovingly arguing about this for over a year now. “He was your cat, and I’m a you person.”

Pushing against him to stretch up and level him with a raised eyebrow, you clarify, “Wait. He was my cat?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now Ollie’s ours.”

“Everybody thinks you’re such a hardass, but you’re really a big teddy bear, Aaron,” you tease before pressing your lips to his.

“I’m admittedly both,” he concedes with a chuckle, pausing to kiss you again before adding, “and a reformed cat person.”

—————

[A/N: I absolutely adored writing these two and I enjoyed getting to sprinkle in a healthy dose of cat puns 😂 Thank you all for reading!]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

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eyesofshinigami · 3 months

Text

Leave It All Behind

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, new beginnings

Prompt: For @acasualcrossfade "Love is having hope for the future together"

WC: 1112

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 12

Steve stands in the middle of his empty bedroom, hands on his hips, trying to untangle the knot of emotions in the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure how to feel; as much as he hates this house and its shadows on the wall, it was still home for most of his life. They made some good memories here. Late night movies with Robin, hosting Hellfire for the club, and he and Eddie’s first time right there where the bed used to be.

But, on the other hand, he can’t wait to get out of this place. Not just the house, but this town; he struggled with the idea for a long time, feeling like he was abandoning the kids, but they called him on that pretty early on. Now that the gates were closed and the Upside Down had collapsed in on itself, El promised that there was nothing else they had to worry about. No more fighting. No more saving the world.

They could just be people again.

Steve’s not entirely sure he remembers how. When he thinks of his life over the last four years, it’s mostly a blur of blood and nightmares that have left him a little changed, a little broken. He knows things and sees things that he would never wish upon another human being, and most days it feels like he would never be free of the marks it has left on him.

But. But.

The car is packed. Eddie’s van has been sold, since it would be too big to drive in the city. Their whole lives have been taped in boxes to bring with them to the apartment waiting for him and Eddie in Chicago, along with Eddie’s record store job and Steve’s waiting teaching program.

Now he just has to say goodbye.

“You okay in here, Stevie?” Eddie calls from the doorway, his footsteps light across the beige carpeting. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve sighs. “Just not sure how to feel. I hated this place, but it also…” he trails off, not sure how to put it into words. It’s complicated.

“It kind of feels like letting go of something important?” Eddie finishes for him. Of course Eddie would be able to find what Steve was trying to say. Months of living out of each other’s pocket and loving each so thoroughly tends to do that to people. “I get it. As much as I would love to see Hawkins burn to the ground in a blaze of unholy glory… I think I would actually be sad about it.”

Steve can’t help his chuckle. “Yeah. I’ll just be glad to get gone, you know? Leave this place behind once and for all.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve from behind, pulling his body into a gentle sway. They’re about the same height, but feeling Eddie pressed against his back like that always makes Steve feel small and loved and cared for. “Going to be a whole new world, baby boy. Just you and me and the Big City! And, you know, maybe Robin and Nancy when they can make it down.”

That idea settles something inside Steve. Robin and Nancy are heading to Boston, three days after he and Eddie hit the road. The kids will only be a four hour drive away, practically nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’ll be fine without him, he knows, and he’s glad that thought doesn’t make him want to curl up and die anymore.

“I can’t wait to do this with you,” Steve whispers into the empty room, turning around in Eddie’s arms so that he can rub their noses together. This wasn’t the life he had planned on having, but he’s so grateful that he gets to have it. He never thought he would find happiness and peace in someone like Eddie; frankly, he never thought he’d find it at all. He had spent so long convinced that he was going to be just like his dad, angry and bitter and mad at the world because he was trapped in a life he didn’t want but thought he had to live.

Not Steve. He shed that shit the moment that demogorgon came after them in the Byers house, slowly shaping into the person he is now. A person moving to Chicago to start a life with the man he loves more than life itself, who is planning on being a teacher and starting a garden on their little rooftop.

A person he can be proud of. A person he can learn to love like Eddie does.

“And I can’t wait to do this with you, baby. No one else I’d rather do this with. The words are whispered against Steve’s lips, like a secret just for the two of them, even if they both tend to wear their love on their sleeves. “Just think, in like… ten hours, we’ll be unpacked in our new place and we can break in our new bed tonight. Scare the neighbors, you know?” Eddie grins against his mouth.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him back, even if he loves the pleasant little shiver Eddie’s words produce. Their place. Their bed. Their life together. “Come on, you menace. Let’s go say our goodbyes and get this show on the road.”

They walk down the stairs hand in hand, after Steve gives one last silent farewell to this room, this place. One day he’ll be able to put it away, fold the memory of this place up like a letter and hide it in the back of his drawer, never to think about it again. Today? Today he lets it hurt, just a little.

They give hugs and kisses and noogies to the assembled crowd that’s here to see them off. Their going away party had been the night prior, a perfect send off that had Steve crying into Eddie’s shoulder when they went to bed in Eddie’s trailer for the last time. It was perfect, all that he could ask for.

It’s not forever, but it’s definitely time. Steve’s ready.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and gets settled in, giving a few more last minute waves as Eddie climbs in on the other side. He starts the car and pulls down the driveway, trying to swallow the lump growing in his throat.

It hurts, but in a good way. Kind of like the way a healing bruise feels when you flex the skin. Painful, but bearable. Especially when Eddie takes his hand and holds it over the console, squeezing it tight as they make their way out of Hawkins and into their future.

Together.

#les writes things #steddie #steddielovemonth #established relationship #rating: g

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

Mummy & Daddy

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet + Sad

I stood leaning against the wooden prop for the kitchen roof, my arms crossed over my chest as Fry and I chatted about the fish the boys had brought in this morning. As well as some news about things going on with various people.

"... you know what I mean?" I finished,

He nodded and was about to speak but as he looked at me he stopped short and flashed me a look behind me, I raised an eyebrow a little confused about what Fry was getting at, "You have a shadow," He chuckled quietly,

I turned around and immediately noticed him.

Milo, stood on the lush green grass, his little brown shoes sinking slightly into the soft earth beneath them. He was wearing beige shorts and a long white shirt that hung loosely on his small frame, making him appear even tinier. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and was dotted with a smattering of freckles that danced across his cheeks and nose. His big chocolate brown eyes, full of wonder and curiosity, were wide open as he gazed up at me. His mop of Y/h/c fluffy hair blew in the wind.

"Uncle Tommy?" he squeaked,

"Ohhh hiya Milo, What is it?" I asked,

"Can I ask you something?"

"Course you can kiddo,"

"Would you tell me about my mummy and daddy?"

I suddenly felt a chill, I knew colour drained from my face. We all knew this would come soon, this question was going to come someday honestly I'm surprised it took so long.

"Uhhhh well..." I stuttered, "Alright come on," I told him putting an arm around his shoulder and we headed through the camp, He happily came with me and I looked around until I found Minho sitting by the beach. "Go on go see Uncle Minho," I told him,

Milo ran over excitedly and hugged Minho tightly,

"Whoa!" He chuckled, "Hi little guy,"

"We have the question," I told him,

"Ahh..." Minho nodded, "Okay," he nodded,

I sat down on the log beside Minho and Milo sat himself on the sand looking up at us with wide brown eyes full of curiosity,

"So? Are you gonna tell me about my mummy and daddy?" Milo asked with an innocent smile,

Minho and I shared and looked before we nodded, Milo lit up with excitement to hear we were going to tell him, He shuffled a little closer and smiled.

"Well, where do we begin?" I chuckled,

"Well, When I came up the box and into the glade I met your father Newt." Minho explained, "You're father was very kind, sweet, and caring for all of us, I admit there were arguments, there were rough times but we all pulled through all we had was each other. Newt pulled me out of the box and showed me around the glade," Minho smiled, "He and I were runners together, We'd get up in the early morning before the sun, get our packs and go running together through the maze of long changing corridors, and be back to the glade just before frypans stew." Minho chuckled, "Truly Milo, your father was one of my closest and best friends."

"Do you miss Daddy, Uncle Minho?" Mil asked,

"Every day I do." He nodded,

"What did daddy look like?" Milo asked,

"You don't remember?" I asked,

He shook his little head, "Not really..." he said, "I remember... little things but not too much,"

"Well, newt was tall, taller than Alby, lanky," Minho explained,

"But strong arms," I added,

"He did that's true," he chuckled,

"Blonde hair, with brown eyes and you definitely got his nose," I explained,

"ooohh," Milo smiled stroking his nose excitedly, "I did!"

"You definitely did," Minho laughed, "Newt's nose. and Newt's Eyes."

"And Y/n's hair, and freckles," I laughed,

"Did you spend lots of time with my daddy Uncle Minho?" Milo smiled,

"We spent every day for a year together when..."

I looked at Minho unsure if we should but we exchanged a look and I trusted him, we should tell Milo... everything, I nodded to him and he nodded back.

"After about a year, your father Newt... we lost him for the day. We couldn't find him, and it was almost time for the doors to close... And I went out to find him. And I found him out in the maze." Minho explained sadly, "He had climbed halfway up the maze walls and jumped off."

"ooh... Why?" Milo asked sadly,

"He hated how many of his friends he'd lost, how little help he could be to people, how things seemed to be... missing and strange." He explained, "Alby and I carried him back to the glade and we nursed him back to... as good as we could, but he'd have a limp for the rest of his life."

"Poor daddy," Milo sighed,

"Yeah poor daddy," I nodded, "But that didn't stop him, it didn't change him from being the kindest person I ever met,"

"what about my mummy?" Milo asked,

"You're mother came up not long after," Minho chuckled, "Y/n came up in the box one month and she met all of us in the glade... and kicked out butts. As the one girl in the glade, she had to keep up with all of us boys. She was so sweet, caring and beautiful, She was our little nurse. And she took such good care of us all."

"She did?"

"She did," Minho nodded, "You know your daddy sat with me at the bonfire one day and you know what he told me?"

"What did he tell you!"

"He said, your mother was the most beautiful girl he could even imagine. And he knew the first day she walked into the medjacks to help bandage his ankle, he knew he was in love."

"He did!"

"He did kiddo," I laughed, "He loved your mother more than anything, he used to go into the medjacks every day just complaining about nothing, just to see her,"

"Did she love him too!?"

"...After a while, she took a little convincing, but your mother loved him as endlessly as he loved her."

"What did she look like?"

"She had long Y/h/c hair, beautiful Y/e/c eyes, pale skin and freckles,"

"Like me!" He giggled petting his hair,"

"Yeah you have her Y/h/c hair kiddo," Minho chuckled,

"Then what happened? After they fell in love?"

"So... they got married,"

"Married?!"

"Yeah, one summer afternoon, by the tall bonfire they got married. It was very beautiful I cried. A lot."

"I wish I could have seen it," I smiled,

"And then... not long after, we heard about you."

"Me!"

"Little you Milo, we learnt you were growing in your mummy's tummy. So of course we all became very protective of her and you. None more so than your daddy. He wouldn't even let her walk around the glade at the risk of you getting hurt." Minho explained, "They loved you so much, they'd have done anything for you,"

"what about when I was born?"

"Ahh a very magical day," Minho laughed,

"magical indeed," I chuckled, "I'd only been in the glade a week when you arrived, it was a very busy day," I laughed, "But when you arrived... I'd never seen anyone so happy, Y/n cradled your tiny body in her arms and gave you kisses, Newt cried and cuddled you close they couldn't stop smiling and saying just how perfect and beautiful you were, they thought you were one in a Million little kiddo, so they named you Milo, They showed you to everyone, they showed you to everyone, let everyone in the glade hold you and cuddle you, newt held you in his arms and showed you off like you where made of gold," I smiled,

"They loved you so much," Minho smiled, "So when we left the maze of course they took you in their arms and carried you as we all escaped,"

"And as we were picked up and taken to the facility, you never left their arms not once." I smiled, "They carried you through the facility and made sure you got the best medical care possible. And when it was time to escape the facility Newt and Y/n wouldn't leave without you."

"They carried me all that way?" Milo asked,

"Milo, your mother and father took turns to strap you to their chest and travelled from the glade where you were born, through the maze, through the facility, through the scorch, and from the right arms camps to the last city. You never left their arms. Not once." I explained,

"And they planned a life with you, a real-life, a house, a school, everything to keep you safe kiddo," Minho smiled, "Until-"

"And when Minho was taken with Sonya and Aris... Newt and Y/n stood at nothing to bring you guys home," I smiled at Minho,

"I know..." Minho nodded even if he had a sober face,

"Newt... began to get sick," I said,

"No-" Milo gasped,

"He did, he got infected. it began in his arm and then crawled up his body, every day the infection and madness got worse but still you Milo were his angel and he would always keep you safe," Minho explained,

"They wouldn't let Vince leave without Minho and the others, so they strapped you to their backs and took you across to the city with them..." I began,

"And I was saved. Along with Sonya, Aris, and all the other kids wicked had taken. Without your parents all this... wouldn't have been possible," Minho explained, "But the virus was airborne in the last city, so as soon as he was there Newt began to get worse so fast..."

"It was hours, barely," I answered, "And then Y/n began to show signs too,"

"Mummy!"

"Yes, your mummy. Both of them began to show signs of the virus spreading," I nodded,

"When the city was attacked... newt got so much worse, but he and Y/n made sure to get us to safety, Newt handed you to Y/n kissed your little head and told you how he loved you more than anything else in this world, he told you how he would always be proud of you and that he wished he'd be able to see you grow up," Minho explained wiping a tear, and he ran back. He kept back the guards, kept back the attack to give us all the chance to get away."

"Without him... who knows what would have happened," I explained, "But Y/n..."

"ohh Y/n..."

"She knew she was getting worse, she knew it was only a matter of time... so she handed you to me." I began, "She put you in my arms, she told me that she wanted you to have the best life, she wanted me and all of us to give you the life they had wanted for you, she begged me to watch over you, look after you, keep you safe and love you as they had done." I explained, "she kissed your little head, told you she loved you and then she ran."

"Ran... ran where?"

"She ran to Newt." Minho smiled, "She ran to him, and the two died... surrounded by the last city flame, in each other's arms... they sacrificed themselves and their life with you to save the rest of us and died in each other's arms before the virus took hold of them both."

"You cried and begged for them back, but I kept you in my arms and kept you safe as I promised I would," I told him tussling his Y/h/c hair,

"My mummy and daddy sound very nice and very kind, I wish I could have known them longer..."

"We wish you could too, but they aren't really gone Milo." Minho smiled, "not if you remember them,"

"I know, I do my best. I miss them so much. I wish I could see them again someday, but till then I just have to remember them,"

"We all miss them too, but I know that they'll be watching over you, and looking after you every single day," I told him,

"Thank you, Uncle Minho," He smiled hugging Minho,

"Thank you, Uncle Tommy," He smiled hugging me too,

"You're welcome kiddo," I smiled,

"Go on, get to the gardens you can help Aunt Sonya with the weeding," Minho laughed Milo nodded and happily ran off, "He's a good kid,"

"He is," I nodded, "I wish Y/n and Newt could be here to see him grow up,"

"I know they would have wanted to, but you know they are still keeping an eye on him." Minho laughed

"Course they are, they wouldn't trust us completely with him," I laughed,

#tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomasbrodiesangster #newt #newt imagine #newt imagines #tmr newt imagine #tmr newt smut #newt tmr

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bettsfic · 5 months

Note

hi betts!

do you have any advice/thoughts on writing about hoarding? especially, about being the child of hoarders?

with thanks,

from a writer researching the topic for their fic :))

as i am a child of hoarders, i feel uniquely qualified to answer this.

if you were to describe a minimalist's apartment, you would have no choice but to mention what items are in it. those are objects that define the character who lives in that apartment. what things do they choose to keep? a house plant, maybe. a zero gravity chair. a couple candles. a macbook charging on a desk. maybe in your mind's eye you see big windows and pale beiges and ikea furniture.

people in hoarder houses still live in those houses, which means there have to be spaces for that living to happen. one stove burner is cleared off. maybe one kitchen table chair and a small placemat. there's a clear line from a recliner to the television. a path from the recliner to the bedroom, and maybe it's a narrow, difficult path, but a body can fit through it. maybe the bathroom is totally clean but if you open the back door, the garage is completely full. you can't even reach your hand in to feel on the wall for a light switch. and if you could, you couldn't see the light.

so in a minimalist's living space, you describe what's there. in a hoarder's living space, you describe what's not.

a minimalist holds an object and thinks, "i don't need this. i can get rid of it." a hoarder holds an object and thinks, "i don't need this. but i might." hoarding often comes from deep set financial insecurity, the fear that if you get rid of something, you will never be able to obtain it again. those little plastic things that keep the pizza box from crushing the pizza? they make good doll chairs. maybe one day you'll know a little kid who will need a doll chair, and when that happens, you'll be ready.

the child of a hoarder may not grow up with the same financial insecurity, but they do grow up with spatial insecurity, which often lends itself later in life to control issues. it's not as simple as hoarder children growing up to be minimalists (although they might), but hoarder children growing up to be hypervigilant toward objects, their worth, and the space they take up. they may also be hypervigilant of themselves and other peoples' perception of them, and develop an unhealthily high self-monitor. they may become compulsive buyers. they may develop obsessions with a certain type of item of extremely high quality. for example, a child of a hoarder may have a collection of louboutins.

no matter what direction they've taken though, they will have an unhealthy relationship with the ownership and placement of things. at least, they will until they reckon with it.

what follows is a personal anecdote so i'm putting it under a cut.

here's an example from my life:

when i was born, my parents lived in a pretty big house in a terrible part of town. that house was full but not overwhelming. when my sister was about to start school, they decided that they wanted to move to a nicer neighborhood, but all they could afford was a small apartment. and so they brought a house worth of stuff and shoved it in an apartment. my father was a compulsive buyer; my mother is a hoarder. so my dad would buy stuff and my mom wouldn't be able to get rid of it, and neither of them knew how to organize an entire house of stuff in a small apartment.

ten years later, we rented a house out in the country that could fit all our stuff (and oh boy is that a story). but from ages 3 to 13, i lived in a cramped, uncomfortable space.

fast forward twenty years. my sister and i are in our 30s. my sister wears designer clothes, takes spin classes, has a huge apartment and a nice boyfriend and two cats. she works a very high paying job and is also a local celebrity. her apartment is clean. but once when i was catsitting for her, i was looking for something and opened a closet and its contents nearly toppled out onto me. i opened another closet and the same thing happened.

i am the opposite in nearly every way. to list it all out would be very depressing, but let's just say if you were to ask me what my greatest indulgence is, like the fanciest thing i let myself buy, i would tell you orange juice. not even fancy orange juice. just regular generic brand OJ.

my living space is a mess, but it's organized. people are used to organized meaning clean. yes, my things are out and scattered around, but it's only because i haven't put them away. you could point to any object in my room and i could tell you where it belongs. i know where everything is and where everything goes, and cleaning is the process of putting things in the spaces i've already carved for them. my closet is meticulous.

my sister has grown up to become clean and bougie; i've grown up to become messy and frugal. my sister has no problem getting rid of things, but she likes to buy them; i struggle to get rid of things, but i rarely buy them. and i don't think either of us would have come to these extremes if we'd had a tidier living space growing up.

#writing advice #setting

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cafeleningrad · 6 months

Text

Wakaba thoughts again. There're many things to say about the Black Rose Arc but one of them is not only how the gendered order is enforced with a lot of violence but also the social order. Those who have not been deemed special by Akio, non-duelists, are treated terribly as probs, as means to an end. And if they wish to change that they're faced with (emotional) repression.

Akio categorizes people either special by default (although he selects duelists by the degree he can use them for his own goals, and only ocassionally special if they appear unplanned on his radar. What a terrible worldview, as he says this in "Wakaba flourishes", because actually... Wakaba can be great at sports and schools. I mean alwaready way before Saionji's presence was a motivation in her life, on her way home, many friends asked her to hang out, she's well liked. Anthy and Utena both genuinely enjoy her cooking. Wakaba has not only one but three love intersts, in Tatsuya, Saionji (out of his necessity but curious that it was Wakaba of all people), and Utena, all genuinely close. For someone who would stereotypically occupy the role of genki girl side character that's way more than for even some popular duelists. In episode 12, she was the one capable of pulling out Utena of her depression because she understood and adored her so much. Wakaba always was well liked, has some genuinely good skills, her shining in sports, and school was due to her feeling special enough to dare step out of the role of the regular girl although she already had it in her. It's so insidious that the motivational push to bring out the most of herself depends so much on male attention. As the shadow girl play tells us, Ohtori is a place pushing the idea that people, specifically girls, need princes, specifically male attention, but actually, they don't why they need them in the first place or what they should actually do with them. (Girls like Juri or Nanami get a chance at beig special individuals on their own. in spite of being girls. That rug is pulled away from them when Ruka tries to converse Juri by force, and Nanami's exceptionalism entirely depends on her relationship to a boy, namely being Touga's little sister).

Wakaba was always great but all her potential gets locked away behind the social indoctrination of only male attentiondetrmining her worth, and not by the potential she obviously has in herself. However, Akio's social order that she isn't allowed to be anything than a side character although she, with three love interests, being quiet popular for "a normal girl", and the potentieal to be top of her class, could break down her box easily. Further on, she doesn't recognize that it all could be sourced from her won well.

#RGU #Revolutionary Girl Utena #Shinohara Wakaba #I love my best girl Wakaba

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spreadyovrwings · 7 months

Text

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French ‘compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: self… induced… smut…. and some more flirting

Chapter Eight

John leaned his weary body up against the door to his room after it clicked shut behind him. His digs had never felt more empty, more dark or unwelcoming.

The last of the day’s light was still filtering in through his tiny, square window, alighting on the scratchy old carpet and highlighting a pile of textbooks he’d forgotten to put away the night before.

With a sigh, John flung his bags down on the floor, then carefully propped up his bass in the corner of the room. He let his fingertips drag along the spine of its leather case, a sort of thank you for helping him play so well tonight. It had become a ritual, though John would rather die than admit that, to himself or to anyone else.

His stomach growled, a dog pawing at the back door, waiting impatiently to be let in. John thought about making some dinner but it was late, he didn’t want to disturb the others as he crashed around in the kitchen. A cup of tea could have been a reasonable substitute, but the process (another usually calming, nostalgic ritual) seemed exhausting and tedious. He just wanted to sleep.

Luckily, John had a good amount of leftover food from the bakery stashed away. He grabbed a couple of the white boxes from his shelf and dragged open their satiny scarlet ribbons. You’d saved him again.

Chewing gratefully on a flaky croissant, John flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. He was so tired, they stung at first and he had to blink a couple of times so push away the pain.

He polished off the croissant, flicking his fingers over the side of the bed to get rid of any remaining pastry crumbs. He already felt a little better.

John drew in a long breath then slowly released it again, until all the muscles in his body had finally unwound and he had sunk further into the mattress.

“You sure you won’t come in? The sofa’s got your name on it. Or, you know…”

John opened his eyes and stared blankly up at his low, beige ceiling.

How could he have been so stupid. You had stood on your doorstep, asking him, plain as day, if he wanted to stay the night, and just when it mattered most, he’d chickened out.

“You were such a good boy for me.”

John groaned. What a moron. He turned and pressed his face into the pillow. Maybe if he pushed hard enough, he’d get lucky and suffocate.

He could still feel your soft skin against his palm. John found himself curling his hand around the ghost of your cheek, his eyes closing as he pictured you gazing up at him, smiling, always smiling.

“They need you, New Boy.”

“Don’t you need me?”

“I want you, that’s different.”

You got all shy after you said that. John didn’t think he’d ever seen you look so bashful. You wanted him. He knew it. And, God, he wanted you too.

It was late. He had an exam in the morning. He was still hungry and dehydrated after the show. He’d said ‘no’ to you like an idiot. He really shouldn’t do anything but sleep.

John unbuckled his belt with one hand.

He closed his eyes and pictured you laying beside him, the what-would-have-been if he hadn’t been such a colossal git. With a soft, relieved groan, he forced his hand down the front of his trousers, just as the you he’d conjured in his head kissed him hard enough to bruise.

Not too far away, you were also staring at the ceiling. Try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. You’d eaten late, you’d stayed up too long, you had a million things to worry about - you’d almost managed to convince yourself these were the reasons you couldn’t drop off. Almost.

With a sigh, you turned over onto your side.

You could still feel John’s big hands in yours. You loved those hands. Skilled in electronics and an expert at the bass. He’d probably play with you just as well, if not better.

You sighed dolefully.

Maybe if you’d been more insistent, if you’d asked again and maybe been more obvious about what you wanted, John would’ve followed you home and you wouldn’t be lying here, alone, pressing your thighs together and trying to ignore the ache between them.

You stared at the wall. You stared and stared and stared, willing sleep to claim you. Behind your closed eyes, images of John on stage awaited you, daring you to do something about how delicious he looked that night.

“Oh, fuck it.”

You stuck two fingers in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, the way you’d been picturing John doing ever since his trick with the ring. His lovely, funny mouth. You’d give anything to have it between your legs right now.

Whispering softly to yourself, you closed your eyes and imagined how it might’ve started, what you might’ve done if you’d been brave enough to entice him in properly, and all the while you gently coaxed at your swollen clit

You’d have to sit in his lap again. You’d simply die if you didn't get the chance to do that again soon. John had felt so small beneath you but so warm and sturdy too. You could wrap his hair around your fingers as you lazily kissed him, whispering sweetly against his lips as he gasped and rocked his hips against yours.

So close to each other, you seemed to be sharing one breath, you imagined yourself breaking away to mouth down his neck, sinking your teeth in here, sucking a dark mark there, until John was whining and struggling to sit still.

His face burning, John pictured you under him, your arms wrapped around his middle, your lovely hands pressing into his back and keeping him close as you moaned into his mouth. He wanted to make you feel so good, just wanted to make you see how much he cared about you with his lips, his hands, his teeth and his tongue.

But it didn’t seem right. His very limited experience (and magazines he would rather die than you ever find out he read) were a guide, but those girls weren’t you. For some reason, John knew this wasn’t how it would go and something in the back of his head was telling him to flip the situation.

You, with your champagne smile and daggerish words. You weren’t going to let anyone push you around, especially not him, especially not when it came to sex. You’d back him up against the wall and push your knee between his thighs, your hands on his hips, squeezing tight as you whispered awful, naughty things against his lips that made his knees buckle.

John wriggled out of his trousers and pants, so desperate he didn’t even bother pushing them both all the way down. He raised his hand to his face, dragged his tongue across his palm, and immediately wrapped his hand around his cock again, squeezing and tugging desperately as he imagined you pushing him flat on his back and smiling down at him.

He moved his free hand so that it rested up by his head, just where he knew you’d place it, and tried to imagine your fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, your nails just beginning to sink into his skin.

“Fuck…” John hissed between his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck- John…”

Your face flushed. You hadn’t meant for his name to slip out. But God, it felt good. It felt right. It felt perfect.

You drew your knee up then let it flop to the side, giving you better access, and all the while you thought about John’s lovely hands pushing your thighs apart so that he could bury his face between them.

“God, you’re so good, you’re so good…” you muttered to yourself, finding your own praises and moans turned you on even more as you rubbed at your clit.

Pictures flooded through your head. You couldn't settle on just one for very long. John’s tongue pressing inside you, his pretty mouth falling open as you slipped your hand around his throat and squeezed gently, the look in those clever grey eyes as he rocked his hips into yours. It was all so much, too much, and even though you felt a flash of guilt for thinking about John like that, it was soon drowned out by the soft little moans and grunts you knew he’d make as you sank down onto him and rode him within an inch of his life.

Sweat beaded John’s forehead as he twisted his wrist in just the right way, thumbing at the slit of his cock just to tease himself. His bottom lip clamped between his teeth, he fucked his hand, his eyes squeezing shut as warmth began to pool in the pit of his stomach.

It had been so long since he’d been able to get himself off. The stress of uni, coming home exhausted after gigs, never having much time on his own, it meant it had been weeks since he’d been able to touch himself like this. And now he had a million ideas he’d never allowed himself to entertain before, ideas about you.

Your knees pressing into his sides as you straddled him, the way you’d moan softly as you looked down at him, approving, studying him like you did your recipes, your lovely eyes switching back and forth across his face, his chest, his stomach - now much softer than when he started - and down and down and down.

John groaned, letting his wrist go limp as his hand slipped up and down his cock. He kept trying not to let his hips leave the bed, but it was too much, soon his back was arching like the girls in his magazines.

“Come on, sweet boy…” Your voice, so real he could almost believe you were murmuring by his ear, was soft and sweet and oh so in control. “Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Gonna cum just from being inside me at last?”

John bit his lip harder, trying not to make a sound, but the growing pressure pooling below his navel made it almost impossible. The hand he’d laid by his head made its way into his tangled hair, still damp with sweat from the gig. John wrapped his curls around his fingers and tugged, hard, a move that made him let out an embarrassingly reedy groan.

“That’s it, good boy. Good boy… You look so perfect like this, Johnny. Could cum just from watching you touch yourself. Come on, pretty boy, let me hear you…”

You were so wet, you could hear your fingers as they worked. It made your cheeks prickle. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you feel like this, so desperate and single-minded.

All you could think about was John, how he’d look beneath you, how he’d whine and gasp as you rode him, his hands up above his head, his pretty chest rising and falling raggedly as he tried to catch his breath, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.

You knew he’d let you do anything you wanted. You knew he’d beg you to touch him, to look at him, to take him to places he didn’t think were possible, and wouldn’t stop until you were finished with him. Such a smart, enthusiastic boy.

You could picture him sitting up against the headboard, his face pressed between your breasts as you rocked your hips, his hands gripping your hips, your arse, as he mouthed at your flushed skin, leaving trails of kisses and bites and saliva in his wake.

He’d turn up at rehearsals the next day, covered from head to toe in love bites and bite marks, a map of your lips, and he’d wear them all with pride.

John huffed sharply through his nose, his eyes rolling back as he fucked his hand.

Come on, come on, come on, so close, so close, so close…

He pulled at his hair again, just as something began to tighten in his lower belly, and John’s back arched off the bed again, his eyes rolling shut as he whispered to himself.

“Please, please, please… Fuck- Ah!”

He came moaning your name, his mouth hanging open as pleasure rolled through his body. He bent double, folded like a deckchair, the hardest he’d ever cum in his life. John’s hips jerked out of rhythm but he didn’t stop moving his hand, because he knew you wouldn’t. He didn’t stop until it started to ache.

John let his body flop back onto the bed, completely spent. He’d never made that much noise before. He just prayed his neighbours hadn’t heard him.

Across the city, your fingers were starting to cramp but, determined, you kept your pace.

Always so obedient. Always so eager to do well. And not for just anyone, for you. Oh, you’d seen the way John preened every time you paid him the littlest compliment, how he beamed with pride whenever you were sweet to him and how eager he seemed to reassure you that you could do anything you wanted to him.

“You’re in charge, Captain.”

Maybe you could learn to like the nickname.

And maybe it wouldn’t take much convincing to get John to let you have him, his lovely hair strewn across the pillow, his back back arching off the bed as you slipped inside him. God, how he’d bounce and roll his hips, his moans rising higher and higher as he begged you to fuck him harder.

“Fu- Johnnn…”

The band across your belly snapped, and you came moaning the delivery boy’s name.

Exhausted, you let your body sink into the bed. Already, you could feel sleep beginning to overwhelm you. You just about had the wherewithal to pull your hand from the front of your pants before you turned over and fell right asleep, your body still pulsing and your mind still buzzing with the thought of John’s whines of pleasure, and the way his hands had felt in yours as he walked you home.

The next morning, you danced around the bakery’s shop floor, wiggling your hips and kicking up your heels as you tugged tables and their accompanying chairs into place. It did occur to you why you might’ve been in such a good mood but you chose to ignore that.

Cold, morning sunshine flooded in as you placed some of the goods you’d baked that morning in the window, then the rest behind the display counter. All the while, you sang along with the radio, waggling your head to T-Rex and smiling to yourself.

The world seemed at ease, just for a moment.

“Well, she ain't no witch and I love the way she twitch, uh-huh. I'm her two-penny prince and I give her hot love, uh-huh…”

A sharp knock at the door made you look up. It was about quarter past five, the bakery wouldn’t be open for more than an hour, so you immediately went into defensive mode. Thankfully, you recognised the face pressed up against the glass.

“Roger?”

You opened the door.

John’s drummer almost fell into the shop but he caught himself well.

“Alright, Bakery Girl?”

Roger grinned, wide and youthful, and clearly unaffected by the early hour. He was bundled up in a warm jacket, his shoulders drawn right up to his ears as he glanced over your shoulder into the dark, empty bakery.

You had to smile. This boy was even easier to read than John.

“I’m good, I’m good, yeah. It’s a nice mornin’, innit?” You nodded over your shoulder. “D’you wanna cuppa to take to work with you?”

Roger accepted your offer so eagerly, he almost tripped over his own feet getting through the door.

“You’re in a good mood,” he said, perching on one of the tables you’d set out.

You realised you were still humming to yourself. Try as you might, you couldn’t force down your smile.

“Just- You know.” You shrugged, trying not to look too sheepish. “How’s the market?”

“It’s fun! Hard but… We’re surviving. Barely make enough money to eat but it’s a good laugh.”

He spoke with such brevity, the soft corners of his pretty mouth tugged back into a toothy smile. Still, his words struck you. Roger and Freddie seemed so happy, so at ease in themselves, that you’d hardly believe they were struggling. You made a conscious decision to add them to your list of scrawny, ridiculous boys who needed looking after.

“Well, that’s all that matters, I s’pose,” you said, forcing a smile.

If Roger noticed your worry, he didn’t show it. He was too busy eyeing up the cakes and pastries behind the glass display case.

“Fred’s got this mate in Chiswick says he’s got a ton of swimwear and things for us. It’ll be summer soon, people’ll want stuff like that. Then maybe we can rent a bigger patch in the market. Maybe start selling LPs as well.”

“That’s the dream then, eh?”

“Oh, no,” Roger raised his head, his pretty eyes wide and soft in the low light. “No, the dream is… Walking out of EMI with a contract and my best mates… The whole world and our whole lives out in front of us. That’s the dream. Me and my mates, working together and seeing the world. I want to make things, you know? Be useful. Help people. Help someone.”

He couldn’t know it, but Roger had single-handedly unwound all your worries about your future with John. The way he spoke about it, it seemed so easy, like he was talking about any other job, and the warmth in his voice… Roger really believed it would happen for them. They were going to make it. Maybe you didn’t have to focus your energy on a plan you’d devised years ago. Maybe you could afford to have the same faith Roger did.

“Well,” you said, smiling too now. “When you put it like that.”

Roger sighed with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s just a dream, Bakery Girl. But that’s all I’ve got.”

“What about John? What’s his dream?”

“Something a lot more pedestrian, I think.” Roger raised his eyebrows. “You probably factor in somewhere.”

Face burning, you turned away to make his tea.

“Shu’ up.”

“Ahh, you know I’m right. I reckon he still thinks he’s gonna end up working in some lab or drawing up blueprints, or somethin’. We’re working on an album, you know. But I think he still thinks it’s just a laugh.”

“But it’s not?”

Roger smiled but his bright eyes, blue as the sea he grew up by, were serious and certain.

“No.”

You twisted your mouth.

“Rockstar or genius scientist.”

“I know. Leave some for the rest of us.”

You both took a moment to marvel at John’s seemingly unlimited potential. Then Roger smiled.

“Has he asked you out yet? I’ve been coaching him. Trying to make him act for once in his bloody life. Grab the bull by the horns.” He waved a hand. “So to speak.”

It proved too difficult to hide your smile, so you gave up trying. Instead, you passed him two steaming paper cups and warned him that they were still too hot to drink from just yet.

While the tea steeped, you set about putting together his breakfast.

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “I could ask him out.”

“Oh, I’d love to watch that.” Roger laughed and shook his head. “He’s great, isn’t he. I really like him. Most people just…”

He made an ineffectual sound and waved his hand again. It seemed Roger too had had his fair share of people letting him down, sadly just by being fundamentally people.

You followed his hand as it came to rest by his thigh again. His fingertips were bandaged. John’s fingers had felt a little coarse the few rare, wonderful times he’d brushed them against your skin. These boys wounded themselves, altered themselves for what they loved. You thought of your own scarred, roughened hands. There was a kinship there you never could have imagined.

“But John’s great. Always there when you need him. Brian bores me half to death most of the time but John’s clever in a nice way. You don’t feel like you’re being quizzed ‘n’ tested when you’re with him. You’re just… With him.”

Roger had the faraway look of someone realising just how lucky he was. You knew he wasn’t just talking up his friend, he really believed every word. You’d never seen someone so proud or so fond of his friends.

“Anyway, he’s a pain in my arse too, don’t get me wrong. But he’s great.”

Beaming, you passed Roger a bag filled with pastries, and a carrier for his and Freddie’s morning cuppas.

“I think so too.”

“New Boy!”

The shout was so sudden, John almost fell off his bike. He gripped the handles tight, wobbling dangerously as he stuck out his heels and dragged himself to a slow and graceless stop.

It was late in the afternoon. John had just finished his last round of deliveries and was looking forward to spending the rest of his day with you, helping out in the kitchen, and trying not to think about kissing you - the usual day to day.

You were standing in the bakery’s doorway, smiling so broadly, orbiting astronauts could probably see it. You were keeping the door propped open with one hand, the other was outstretched towards him.

“Mickey’s ‘ere! And he brought the baby!”

Before he knew it, John had been ushered inside. Your lovely hands switched dizzyingly between his hips and the small of his back as you guided him to the kitchen, where Mickey was waiting with a tiny bundle of pink cloth gathered up in his enormous arms.

“Oh, Mick…” John couldn’t help beaming as he leaned in to take a closer look. “She’s lovely.”

There had been photos posted up by the phone for weeks now, of little Dot just a few hours old, waving one tiny hand at the camera. You’d put up a few more recent pictures of Mickey and his family just the other day, all of the Caines squashed together to fit in frame. Nothing compared to seeing something so small and beautiful in person for the first time.

“She’s a righ’ terror,” Mickey beamed down at his little girl. “Drives her mother insane. An’ her old dad. Reckon she’s gonna be singer with the way she goes on. Maybe she could front your band one day, Johnny Boy.”

“She’d give Freddie a run for his money, I bet.”

John held out one finger and brushed it delicately across the back of one of Dot’s tiny fists.

“So, who does she look like more, d’you reckon? You or Rita?” he asked.

You snorted.

“You’re ‘avin a laugh. She’s perfect. She’s all Rita.”

“Ahhh, she’s got my charm. And my devilish good looks.”

Mickey finally tore his gaze away from his little girl to smile at John.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

“Me? Are you sure? I’ve never really…”

“Don’t be daft. C’mon, you’re part of the family now.”

With careful instructions on how to position his arms, Mickey gently passed Dot over, settling her against John’s chest.

The baby made a soft sound of disapproval, she never liked being far from her father’s warm, broad chest, but she soon settled. Her eyes closed, Dot sighed softly and went right back to sleep.

“There. You see?” Mickey patted John’s shoulder with a hand the size of a bear’s paw. “You’re a natural, mate. Won’t be long till you’ve got a few of your own.”

It took all John’s strength not to glance at you.

“She’s amazing, Mickey.”

John smiled as he ever so gently began to sway from side to side, trying to remember how his parents had soothed his little sister when she was just a baby.

He only looked up when he felt your hand on his arm. You were looking down at Dot, smiling gently, but your warm touch, the way your fingers pressed into him, that was a secret, just for the two of you.

“She’s so perfect. Shame you didn’t name her after me but…” You grinned. “Hang on, I have to take a photo. Stay right there, don’t move.”

John watched you go. He didn’t tear his gaze away until the door up to your flat had clicked shut behind you.

It was strange, but he already missed you. Just being near you set his whole body at ease. He could think clearer, his heart kept a regular pace, at least, until you smiled at him, or touched him, or looked in his general direction. When you were gone, it all came rushing back, like the pressure in the room had changed. He’d never needed to be near someone before.

John caught Mickey smiling at him and turned his attention back to the baby in his arms, hoping he didn’t look as he felt, like a love struck idiot who couldn’t concentrate whenever you weren’t around, let alone when you were.

“So,” Mickey was grinning now, much to John’s chagrin. “How’s things with you and the Captain?”

“They’re good.” John kept his eyes down, hoping in vain that it would obscure how red his face was getting. “We’ve been seeing quite a lot of each other but… No official date yet.”

“So you’re not goin’ together?”

John grimaced.

“I haven’t really asked her properly. It’s my fault,” he said sheepishly.

Dot began to fuss in John’s arms. She raised one of her little fists in the air, as if she too disapproved of his cowardliness.

Mickey reached over. John thought he might want to take his little girl back but he just brushed one finger across her clenched fist and whispered to her sweetly. Dot settled again, a look of contentment on her angelic face.

“She’s like her dad. Never ‘appy unless she’s complainin’.” Mickey smiled fondly. “So what’s keeping you? Last time I saw you, seemed like things were movin’ along a bit.”

“They were. They have.”

John thought about the night before, how soft and open your eyes had been as you gazed up at him. He had held your face, your hands, practically admitted everything he felt for you, and you’d smiled and said you wanted him too. God, why hadn’t he kissed you?

Because, John thought, because he was afraid. Even after everything you’d said, everything you’d done together, he was terrified that you didn’t actually care about him, and this was all a roll of the dice that would end with him losing the first place he’d felt safe in years, and a second family he didn’t want to ever say goodbye to. And he could lose you too. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” John said quietly. “Not like that?”

Mickey shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“She does.”

John huffed.

“She thinks I’m useless.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She thinks I’m quiet and funny-looking-”

“She thinks the world of you, you muppet-”

“And too skinny.”

“She loves you!”

The words hung in the air, like dust after a building collapses, crawling and curling their way through the kitchen, until they had filled John’s eyes, his lungs, his mind.

He blinked, heart sore, begging Mickey not to make fun of him with just a look. But Mickey nodded earnestly as he tucked Dot’s blanket under her back, as if promising her, or perhaps on her, that he would never joke about something so serious.

“She adores you, mate,” he said, just before the door opened again and you came bounding through, camera in hand.

“Okay, hold still. Say cheese!”

John tried his best to lower his head so that he and Dot would be in frame together without disturbing her. He felt Mickey wrap an arm around his shoulders and realised he was smiling without having to be told.

The camera clicked, flashed, then whirred as it spat out the polaroid.

“That’s one for the album,” you said as you stared at the photo, waiting for it to develop. “Shame Glad isn’t here. Where is she?”

Mickey scoffed.

“She ‘avin’ lunch with his nibs.”

“Well then,” You placed your free hand on your hip. “I’d say that’s lunch then, boys.”

You didn’t flip back the sign on the door. John tried not to look too surprised, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen you pass off an opportunity to keep the bakery open. Money was tight, this place was your whole world, you had a lot invested in 64 Oslo Square.

Perhaps you’d simply grown tired of working yourself to exhaustion when Gladys couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Perhaps it didn’t feel right to work when there was such an important visitor. John didn’t care what had driven this decision. He was just pleased to see you take some time for yourself. You’d more than earned an afternoon in the sun with your family.

You took John’s hand and led him across the road to the chippy, where you handed over loaves of bread, sweet pastries, and cups of tea in return for three bags of chips, cod for Mickey and a battered sausage for you and John. Michael’s Fish Bar had been kicking about for almost as long as the bakery; this bartering system had existed for far longer than you’d worked at 64 Oslo Square.

After dishing everything out, you pressed a plate into John’s hands and led him out through the kitchen doorway to the alley. You sat down together, side by side on the top step, your knees touching, and happily tucked into salty, hot chips that burnt the tongue and soothed the soul.

“So what’re you reading at the moment?” John asked, after a few minutes of comfortable silence had passed.

Beside you, Dot gurgled in her pram. You hadn’t had much experience around children, especially babies as tiny as her, but you knew enough to gingerly push the buggy’s back wheel with the toe of your shoe, gently rocking her back into her dreams.

“Oh, nothing at the moment. Been too busy,” you said through a mouthful of chips. “You got any recommendations?”

“Uni is so intense right now, all my suggestions would be written by Seymour Hammond.”

“Right,” you said, bewildered. “No, yeah. He’s fab.”

John picked up another chip and stared at it. He was chewing on his bottom lip, tugging the skin between his incisors as he thought.

You watched, mesmerised.

“You know, when I first moved here, I hated London. The smell, the crowds…”

“The price of fish and chips.”

That made John smile. He stopped worrying his lip and finally popped the chip into his mouth.

“But when I’m here, I see it.”

“See what?”

“Home, I suppose. This place feels like home. Or it’s starting to, at least. Does that make sense?”

In the ocean of your heart, something was stirring. Towering waves of fondness, warmth, and something you were beginning to seriously suspect might be love, rose up, crested, then broke, washing over your heart again and again, gently but firmly, undeniably.

“I think you’re a bit mental but… Yeah, it makes sense.”

You glanced over your shoulder. Mickey was on the phone to his wife, letting her know he’d be home soon and asking if she needed him to pick up anything on his way. You and John were alone.

You shrugged.

“Maybe it’s Gladys’ tea.”

John snorted.

“Or the free food.”

“Or the good company.”

“You do tend to make things a bit brighter, I’ve found.”

John looked at you, really looked at you. Gone were the days when he could hardly hold your gaze. Long gone. He had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

“I don’t fancy your drummer,” you said, cheeks beginning to burn at how abrupt you’d sounded.

John’s eyebrows pulled together, his nose wrinkling.

“I didn’t-”

“I know you think I do. He’s nice but he’s not my type.”

John didn’t look convinced but he was still smiling.

“I thought you liked pretty boys.”

“I do.” Heart pounding, you turned your body towards his. “Pretty boys with pretty hair and lovely eyes, cute noses and a funny mouth.”

“My mouth isn’t funny.”

“Then why are you smiling?” You grinned. “Very presumptuous of you, by the way, John.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. It was such a lovely sight, you could barely resist brushing your fingertips along the path laid out for you, across his cheek, down his neck, to his chest and beyond.

Then he moved, turning his body in towards yours, so now your knees were pressed against his upper leg. John was so tense, you could practically feel the muscles in his thigh jump at your touch.

He lowered his head, as if to whisper in your ear, but his eyes never left yours.

“Call it a theory,” John said. “One I’ve been mulling over for a while.”

You watched, hardly daring to breathe, as he leaned in closer. Your fingers itched to wrap around the collar of his shirt and pull him in, but the thought of moving right now seemed impossible.

“And have you managed to mull up a hypothesis?”

“Oh, definitely,” John’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “Trust me, I’ve had lots of thoughts about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m having one right now, actually.”

You wanted to respond with something clever. You wanted to take the next step in this dance you’d fallen into. You wanted to see if you could make John’s ears go as red as his cheeks. But you couldn’t think of anything to say. You couldn’t think at all.

You felt your hand move without your say so. It slipped over his knee and found a home on John’s thigh, keeping him close, keeping yourself grounded.

He was looking at you so intently, you could hardly breathe. Sunbeams filtered into the alley, light particles that had travelled hundreds of thousands of miles, just to get tangled in John’s lovely hair. The shadow cast by his aquiline nose, the tiny smile at the corner of his brilliant mouth, the softness of his gaze. How could you resist?

“John…”

Your heart was aching in your chest, pressing against your ribs, pushing you forward towards him. You had to draw in a breath to try and ease the pressure in your chest, but it shuddered through, and there was no way John couldn’t have noticed.

He smiled, sweet and reassuring, as he bent his head, murmuring your name under his breath.

Footsteps behind you made you straighten up. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d closed your eyes.

“‘Scuse me, lovebirds,” Mickey barged between you carrying two enormous black rubbish bags. “Bin man comes at seven.”

You weren’t violent by nature, but suddenly the idea of knocking Mickey’s lights out and shoving him into a dustbin seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea.

John looked about as mortified as you felt. But he was still enticingly close. He hadn't moved away.

You were still squeezing his thigh. Part of your brain screamed at you to take your hand back, to apologise and pretend like it had never happened. But there was another voice, braver, softer, that told you it was alright, to just trust yourself, to trust John, and to never, ever let him go.

“John, I-”

The bakery door opened. You turned your head in the direction of the sound, frowning quizzically. That was odd, you thought, you’d definitely locked it.

Then you heard Gladys’ voice. She was calling out for you. Something twisted in your chest, though you couldn’t be sure why.

Squeezing John’s thigh reassuringly, you gave him a quick smile.

“Don’t move,” you said firmly, then scrambled to your feet before he could say any more.

You didn’t look back as you hurried through the kitchen. If you did, you feared you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from grabbing his face and having another go at kissing him senseless.

Heart still hammering, you made your way into the bakery where Gladys was standing in the centre of the shop floor. She looked pale, her usually lively eyes dull and almost unseeing.

For a moment, you worried that she was angry with you for shutting the shop. You tried to summon a smile, your hands automatically reaching out to make her a cup of tea.

“Gladys! I thought you were-” You cleared your throat, your mind still spinning from the dark, soft look in John’s eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. “Doesn’t matter. Mick’s here and he brought the little’un!”

“Where is everyone?”

Gladys’ voice was hollow. She was gripping a slip of paper in her hands so tightly, you could see it was beginning to tear.

“They’re outside having a fag. Well, Mickey’s having a fag and John’s got chips. We just stopped for a late lunch.”

When she didn’t say anything, you frowned.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“He’s taken it.”

“Taken..?” You shook your head, trying to ignore the sickening, churning dread in the pit of your belly. “Who, Glad? What’s going on?”

“Alastair,” she whispered the name like it was bad luck. And perhaps it was. “He’s taken the bakery.”

Time slowed, choked, before finally falling to its knees. An age passed. Civilisations came and went. Stars burned and died. And all you could do was stare. The bakery had never been so silent.

“What are you talking about?” you asked once you’d found your voice again, hoarse and reedy as it was.

Gladys’ face crumpled like the paper in her hands.

“I shouldn't have. I know I shouldn't have but he- The way he explained things, it… He had me change the names on the deeds. It felt like a good idea at the- It’s his. It’s all his.”

Tears filled Gladys’ eyes.

“It’s gone, love. It's gone. Alastair owns the bakery.

Master List

#john deacon #queen #john deacon x reader #john deacon reader #john deacon fic #john deacon smut #smut #john deacon x you

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nejiverse · 2 years

Text

CHANGE

Bonten! Kakucho Hitto

In which Y/n and Kakucho are reunited again from childhood. Fem! Reader

Approx. 1.8k words

Recommend listening after flashback

"KAKU you're crying again?!", Y/n whined to the 6 year old boy in front of her who was desperately trying to put a stop to his tears by wiping them away with his sleeve.

"I'm not! Something's in my eye and I can't get it out", he retorted as the girl in front of him folded her arms against her chest.

"Tell the truth Kaku", she threatened which made Kakucho sigh in defeat.

"There was a cat right here in this box yesterday but now it's gone", he showed her the cat food he was gonna feed the cat with a sulk on his face.

Y/n sweat dropped.

"That's not cat food idiot it's dog food", she said pointing to the bag in his hand. "See? D-O-G", she indicated the letters on the bag.

"Still, I was gonna keep it as a pet", he kept his head down and sniffled.

Seeing Kakucho distraught made her sad too. She tried to think of something to make him happy. She beamed at the idea that popped into her head.

"I promise when I grow up and finally become a model, i'll get you a new fluffy cat!", she said with a look of determination.

She noticed the ravenette's mood slightly change into one more joyous.

"But you're moving away. You won't be able to", he responded.

"Hmm", Y/n put her finger under her chin in thought before bringing two items from her pocket.

"Here", she smiled as she handed a silver plastic ring to the boy and kept the other golden one for herself.

"We'll make a promise with these rings since you always break your pinky promises", she pouted as Kaku gave her a goofy smile at her words.

"I'll come back when I grow up, but until then, quit being a crybaby!", she commanded.

"I promise i'll wait right here for you and stop calling me that!".

"But y'know Kaku", Y/n started. "These rings mean we have to get married", her words made a shiver drive down his spine. "I don't make the rules", she shrugged.

"Married? But I can't marry my best friend!", Kakucho was conflicted. Yes he loved Y/n but as his best friend.

"Tch, a crybaby and a wuss", she murmured earning a groan from Kaku which made her giggle slightly.

-Present-

Unfortunately Y/n did end up moving the next day but auspiciously, she did pursue her hopes in becoming a model. Now at age 26, she had decided to visit her home town.

Every step she took was accompanied by a crunch of the snow beneath her feet. It was the type of cold that would freeze the blood of those who didn't take care to dress warm.

Each breath she took out left a vapour of condensation roam in the air before disappearing again.

With her hands stuffed in the pockets of her beige trench coat, she scanned around the area and to her surprise, she was able to recognise every single intricate detail of her surroundings even though it had been twenty years. The only thing that was missing were the people. It was awfully quiet but she assumed that was because most people were at work at this hour and there was also the fact that it was baltic outside.

She smiled to herself when she came across the spot where her and Kakucho used to play. They eventually stopped talking after a few years not because they wanted to but because they had to move on with their lives.

Adjusting to adulthood was hard for Y/n and she so desperately tried to cling onto that string which kept them in contact but to her dismay, long distance relationships were never the same, whether friend or lover.

Y/n's attention was redirected to the sound of a cat purring. She turned her head to the side to see a small stray grey cat.

She smiled at the cat and crouched down to pet it.

It reminded her of Kakucho, reason being that he promised to wait for her and she promised to buy him a new cat.

She reached the conclusion long ago that he had forgotten about her and their promise.

The smile on her lips faded as she slowly ceased rubbing the cat.

Would she even see him again? And if she did what would she say?

"Y/n?...".

She heard her name being called out. Who could it have possibly been? She hadn't visited this placed for twenty years now.

She stood up and turned around.

In her mind, time stopped.

Before her was someone she never expected to see ever again.

She thought to herself: he'd matured so much. He wasn't the cute little boy she knew all those years ago but a handsome fully grown 26 year old man. His hair grew. It suited him so well.

"Kakucho...", Y/n uttered in bewilderment.

The ravenette mirrored the same expression.

He noticed that she had changed drastically. Her hair was longer and her body had matured. The slight pink tint on her nose and on the tips of her ears made her all the more attractive. She was beautiful and much different to the girl he knew twenty years ago.

Y/n felt her bottom lip tremble and tears bursted out of her eyes. She ran into him arms which took him aback.

"Kaku, I missed you so much", she cried into his chest as he looked down at her, furrowing his brows.

He missed her too.... but things have changed. Was it really ok for her to be associated with him anymore?

"Who's the crybaby now?", he voiced and she looked up at him with dilated black pupils.

He felt his heart skip a beat from the way she looked at him; with so much love, so much passion.

His eyes moved down towards her plump lips. He tried ever so hard to stop himself from kissing her right then and there.

He found his thumb running over her bottom lip which made her quietly gasp at the cold feeling.

It was as if Y/n had read his mind as she leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

Her hands moved from his chest and around his neck as she tousled his hair between her fingers.

He found himself running his hands down her sides slowly--

He immediately pushed himself away from her.

What was he doing? He was affiliated with Bonten now. He couldn't drag her into it.

"I missed you too Y/n, but things changed and I think we should keep it that way.. we can't be together", he had a stern look on his face. He wanted her to see that he was serious. She should leave and pretend she never saw him today.

Her eyes widened and her shoulders began to shake. She looked at him in disbelief and shook her head.

"What are you talking about Kaku?! We made a promise, we even said we'd get married!", she whimpered as she repeatedly switched her gaze from his right eye to his left again and again in search of any emotion. That stern look was still on his face and it scared her.

"I can't marry my best friend".

These words made her walk closer to him instantly and hold his cheeks in her palms.

"You're lying to me, again! That's not the reason. There's something you're hiding from me", she was completely distressed and she felt her breathing speed up. She didn't want him to leave her.

"Look", she showed him her finger. "I still have it, the ring. You can even check my pictures online or in any magazine Kaku I never take it off, I love you so much", she cried out.

Kaku gritted his teeth and forcefully took the ring off her hand and did the same to his own. He threw the two rings deep into the snow.

Y/n gasped loudly and ran over to where he threw them, getting on her hands and knees and desperately searching for the rings.

"We shared a wonderful past and trust me I'll never forget those memories.... but our futures are meant to be separate", he said as he watched the woman look for the rings.

He noticed that she paused in her actions. "You kept the ring I gave you though, all this time. You knew we'd meet again", she said as she got up and walked over to him.

"What ever it is that you're hiding from me, let me help you. I promise I won't judge you for it because I love you", he was shocked at her words. After all this, he surely couldn't leave her, could he? The woman kissed him again and again. "I love you so fucking much".

"Stop this Y/n", Kakucho demanded as the woman stared at him with wide puffy eyes.

He grabbed her chin quite forcefully and stared right into her eyes, eyes that frightened her to the core. What did these twenty years do to him?

"Listen to me carefully 'cause i'm only saying this once", he uttered.

"I don't love you".

She felt her whole world collapse before her. Surely he was joking. Did her words really not have any effect on him? Or did he just not care?

"You don’t mean that Kakucho", she said in disbelief. She felt fresh tears building up in her eyes. "Do you know why I've remained single up to now? It's because of you! I loved you so much that every time I met someone new, I always found myself looking for your traits in them! My heart can't forget you, please just stay with me!", she pleaded.

Kakucho had no reaction to her tears and pleading. He still had that deadpan look on his face.

"Unrequited love...isn't love at all, Y/n", he gave it to her straight.

But there was a lie evident in his words. Their love wasn't unrequited at all. Kakucho knew he had feelings for Y/n, strong ones. He just didn't want her to get hurt. He'd never forgive himself.

He engulfed her in a hug and brought his lips close to her ear. "You're nothing to me. So now that i've cleared that up, i'm gonna leave and you're not to follow me or contact me. Or i'll kill you", he spat which made Y/n's eyes- if even possible- widen even more.

"Kaku..", she whispered.

He brought his lips below her ear on her neck and kissed it softly. She smelt so good.

"We were never meant to be".

End.

masterlist :)

A/N: my baby🥹

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maracujatangerine · 1 year

Text

75. Reflection

CW: discussion of body image, scars, chronic pain, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

After stepping out of the shower, Coriander dried its hair with a fluffy, beige towel. The pet looked up and met its own grey eyes in the mirror.

The reflection was misty around the edges with steam from the hot water, but Coriander could still see the changes.

The lines of its body were more filled-out, each rib no longer sharply visible. The bruises since long faded. Even the scars seemed less prominent now. Miss Lydia encouraged the pet to eat well, to work in the garden and to do some moderate exercise. It could feel the difference in its own body, it felt stronger, more energetic. It still hurt, especially its damaged shoulder, but the pain took less place in its mind.

Wrapping its towel around its hips, it studied its tattoo in the mirror.

247084

The number had been a part of its life for as long as it could remember. It was just a normal thing. It wasn’t until lately that Coriander had started to consider how odd it was that among everyone the pet met on an everyday basis, it was the only one marked in this way.

Before, it has always been surrounded by other pets. The difference between them and people had been clear as day. Now, looking at itself in the mirror, the bar code looked strange, almost unfamiliar.

A knock on the door broke Cory’s reverie.

“Sorry Cory, may I come in? I just want to get my toothbrush.”

“Y-yes Miss Lydia. This pet is ready.” Coriander hurried to unlock the door and stepped aside to let his owner enter.

“Oh, look at you, so squeaky clean.” With a grin, she suddenly reached up and playfully tousled his blonde hair.

The pet started at the quick movement, but more in surprise than in fear. As it turned towards her, like a flower turning towards the sun, it knew that she would describe that as healing. Perhaps the pet would, too.

A glimpse of dark numbers in the mirror, before Coriander turned away, reminded the pet that not all things may be healed.

This post is a part of the 2023 BBU Community Days organised by @bbu-on-the-side . This is my entry for day 8: Bar Code.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

#pet whump #bbucommunity #bbu #day8 #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #lydia and coriander #pet whumpee #whump event #whump fic #original writing

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mattsmithwife · 1 year

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Playing with Dragons (DAEMON/RHAENYRA/JACE/AEMOND/AEGON II X FEM READER) MODERN AU! - CHAPTER II

Summary: Living among the Targaryen’s may not be an easy task, even more so when the dragons want a piece of meat in common

TW (For Now): Incest, mention of drug, mention of bullying (nothing graphic), mention of school fights, mention of when korea was a Japanese colony

Word Count: 1,805 words

Tag List: @darksat6rns , @arielj (comment for you to be added)

A/N: English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors.I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them.

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-Strong, watch where you're going -he scolds the youngest for breaking the beige vase on the hall table

-Calm down pirate, they didn't hear.

That's when they both heard footsteps, Jace ducked behind the Greco-Roman pillar of the entrance hall, and Aemond rolled his only eye. He looked at you and saw your wet clothes

-Why is it wet?

-Aegon pushed me in the pool. And you broke the vase?

-No, it was Vermax. That golden retriever won't sit still, looks like Jace if he were a dog.

-Vermax is here and Jace is not... strange

You cell phone rang upstairs, you excused yourself and went to get him. Looking on the screen you saw his name and didn't want to answer, he let you down a lot and you knew that you deserved much more than a boy who called himself a man. Men are never worth the air they breathe and that's why you're only involved with one your whole life.

Looking at your bed you saw that the quilt was damp, so you took it off and put it in your bathroom hamper. You went to your closet in the hope that some old clothes would fit you since the ones from the trip were being washed and you saw a green box in the Puff of your closet with a note

“I'm glad he's back, everyone missed him and felt a bit aimless at first. You mean a lot to us, and this is our gift to you. Use whichever you prefer on Saturday. XOXO Alicent”

Opening the box, you saw a red Vinyl dress, a green dress like Evelyn Hugo and of course a black coatdress. You smiled and happy for her choice, surely Helaena and Baela had a hand in it. Being Baela a big fan of Evelyn Hugo because in her view, Hugo was a powerful, feminist woman who got everything she wanted.

You found black tailored pants and a white blouse in your closet, choosing which would fit you comfortably.

After the bath you allowed to go to the library and on the way you saw a big picture with the whole family, you saw Aemond and Jace each on your side in the photo and Helaena behind you. That's how your childhood was, you were glued to the three of you and you always got into trouble like the time Jace and Aemond put a frog on the head of a Daemon who was sleeping in the living room chair and you and Helaena made sure to scream as loud as possible to scare the elder

As a result, everyone ran and hid in one of the passageways of the Red Keep, Daemon couldn't be mad at you and Helaena but the boys would be dead if Viserys hadn't intervened.

You held back your laughter until you felt two big hands on your waist, ready to elbow you until a voice whispered:

-I missed you.

And now you took the elbow, Jace could be a jerk when he wanted to, and you were taking it out.

-Tried to hide behind the pillar.

You turned to him who was leaning against the wall with his hand on the rib where you hit him, and he laughed. He thought obviously you saw him; you loved Sherlock Holmes since he could talk.

-So, you saw me?

-His perfume was in the air, Vermax wasn't inside the house and Aemond insisted on calling you a dog out of nowhere, something he would do in front of you for fun. There was no need to see.

- So, you know my perfume?

- That ego is too high. Lower it.

He chuckled and walked over, you just walked into the library with him behind you. He and Aemond always did that

- Why do you follow me around like a puppy? -you question him while looking for a book on the shelf and he keeps following you.

-Because I'm your puppy.

-How beautiful, will you bark when I ask?

-Your orders, dear

You turned to him with a questioning look, and he just smiled crossing his arms in front of his body.

-I hear you're going to work with your mother. Why just her? You could go with me to the computing side.

-Because your mother is beautiful, kind and a great friend. And I have a degree in international relations, that is, only in the foreign market since I am not a diplomat or anything else

-Sometimes I think you already had an affair. They are very close even when you were far away.

-Jace, your mother is almost 37 years old and as much as she is beautiful, she will soon be my boss.

-This looks like a Wattpad fanfic

-Jace... do you read fanfic?

-No, but Baela reads. I took her cell phone logged into the TV in the Red Keep room

-Cruel, my boy is a spy.

-I don't need a lot of effort. I also learned that we would have new investors in the game development sector, two Japanese, one Korean and three Chinese.

-Technology in Asia is another world. It's a vast and wide area, which must be why Samsung is a South Korean brand. Its value for money is great and reaches people from all social classes around the world, for having excellent quality products no matter how much you can pay.

- I think you'll like to meet them. They are at Daemon's hotel for a meeting on Monday.

-Hotel? when that old man was going to tell me. Targaryen, Lannister and HighTower make this city and six more, spin, half the city has some property of ours.

-What does Viserys always say?

-” The only thing that does not devalue in the stock market is land, property. Always invest in land”

-Rhaenyra will take you to the meeting.

-Don't you think it will be chaotic? By the historical past of these investor nations.

-I think they'll forget about pride.

-In the historical period Japan didn't allow South Korea to use their own language because words are power, and they didn't want power in the hands of the Koreans. This is not something to forget.

Saturday morning, 11 hours before family dinner:

Aemond was arriving at the office and saw Aegon smoking at the window on the third floor from the security cameras. He went up the elevator and entered the room, stepping hard and making Aegon startle.

-Let's be clear, you're not bringing any more weed or anything. You may die from drinking, but not drugs, Aegon. You are already adult enough to understand that one wrong word, one wrong action can send our family to the bottom of the well!

He took the joint from Aegon and threw it away making Aegon stare at him in bewilderment, Aegon smiled and Aemond wished his eyebrow at him.

-At least I smoke, half of the celebrities' smoke, but you... little brother, you've been in love with our cousin for over nine years. Incest isn't common, is it? The only one who could have something on her would be Jace or Rhaenyra, since they don't share the same blood.

-Shut up before I throw you out the window

Aegon held his hand in surrender and mocked Aemond with a smirk on his face. Aemond was lucky for the face control, so Aegon didn't notice that it really bothered him. Aemond walked out and headed towards his own room, but Rhaenyra saw her distressed half-brother on the way and went to his room.

-What ails you, brother?

-Nothing, but it bothers me Aegon being that idiot.

-He's just immature with a lot of traumas, at least that's what Yn says. You know, she sees right through people.

Rhaenyra saw her brother's expression change at the mention of her second cousin's name. She thought knowing what emotion had, even jealous she asked the youngest if he was going to ask Yn out.

-And why would I ask?

-Aemond, a wall can see that you like it. It's not something you need to hide, at least not from me.

-You like her, sister. It's pretty obvious.

-The main subject is you and her, not me and her. And Jace is inside too.

-And that doesn't bother you?

-We are adults, Aemond. And she is our family, we must be mature when choosing her, that is, if she really chooses someone from the family. Take her home after dinner, maybe you guys get away somewhere.

And before Aemond could protest, Rhaenyra was gone.

-Way down we go

The blonde sighed as he gave a feel for the paperwork that should be organized for Monday's meeting. He and Nyra would be the main attendees at the meeting with Asian investors. He found himself thinking from time to time of Yn, happy that the eldest was back, but with a certain sinking in his heart of the probability of not being reciprocated.

There are those who say that he and the older woman are similar in terms of their behaviour around strangers, acting cautiously and suspiciously, their way of walking, stepping firmly and clearly, always running away with their heads held high and their noses in the air. But unlike Aemond, Yn never put her head down for anyone and defended her point of view at all costs, in time Aemond took this from her.

But privately, with the Targaryen brothers and Strong, Yn was more open and joking, even though they said she always seemed serious. Her protectiveness was also acute when it came to who messed with her family.

When she was 11 years old and Aemond 10 there were some boys from school teased him about his eyepatch, Yn had a backpack full of books that day, so she hit the main boy who tormented her with the backpack and then he got punched in the nose.

All this in the schoolyard in front of everyone, and Daemon was called out at school that day for being Yn's guardian, but he only knew how to laugh at the injured boy and be proud of Yn. Aemond found out like this, that you never mess with someone Yn cares about. Yn didn't get in too much trouble because being a Hightower and your guardian a Targaryen, you become practically untouchable.

-If I fell, you fall.

She said this to the boy who had his nose bruised by her punch, he lowered his head as Yn passed by. One thing that never crossed Yn's mind is why Daemon has her custody, she never knew any of her parents, she only knows that Daemon adopted her, but it was never known why, when and how he did it.

The Targaryen family had many secrets, but you hardly think about this

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