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ddejavvu · 10 months

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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daisyblog · 5 months

Text

It’s a…

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Gender reveal.

Harry and YN had been for an early gender scan, due it being so close to Christmas and they are going to be travelling back up North for the holidays.

Their family and friends had sent in their predictions the night before, all trying to guess what baby Styles was going to be.

Anne: Girl💕

Gemma: Boy💙

Michal: Boy!

Louis: Girl x

Lottie: 💙💙💙

Phoebe: 💕

Daisy: 🩷

Jen & Len: Girl xx

Mark & Sally: 💙

Jeff: Glenne and I think Girl!!

Mitch: Boy!

Sarah: Girl xx

Pauli: BABY STYLES IS A GIRL! I think!

Lloyd: Booooooy!!

Brad: Girl! p.s good luck H😂

James: I think boy!

Louise: Lux and I think girl💞

Niall: Girl!❤️

Liam: Boy!

Zayn: Khai says girl x

In all honestly Harry and YN didn’t mind if their baby was a boy or girl, they just prayed for a happy and healthy little one.

Once YN and Harry were called into the room, YN laid down on the bed with Harry sat next to her, holding her hand for comfort.

“Are we ready to see your baby?.” The sonographer asked.

“More than ready!” YN smiled at Harry, who brought their joined hands up his lips and pressed a quick peck to them.

The room was silent whilst the sonographer moved the probe around YN’s tummy. The sound of a racing heartbeat broke the silence, and YN’s new favourite sound could be heard. Their baby’s heartbeat!

“You have one wriggly baby…they don’t want to keep still for me today!” The lady joked, causing YN and Harry to laugh as they watched the screen.

“Is everything okay? With the baby I mean?”. Harry asked, something he liked doing at every appointment.

“If I could use the word perfect, I would.” The older woman smiled. “But I can’t, but honestly your baby is growing absolutely beautifully in there…so keep doing what you’re doing Mama!”.

Harry gave YN a proud smile, knowing that YN needed to hear that today after having a few days of insecurities.

“Would you like to know the gender?”.

“Yeah please!” Harry didn’t hesitate, eagerly wanting to know if they were having a baby son or daughter.

After a few more pokes and prodes on YN’s tummy, the woman smiled. “Congratulations Mum and Dad…you’re having a…”.

---

Originally YN and Harry were going to share their baby’s gender with their families at Christmas. But not wanting to take away the attention away from Louis on his birthday or the younger children at Christmas, they decided they would share the news with everyone at the same time.

Keeping it simple, YN sent all their family and friends the same photo sharing the news. Both waiting for the reactions!

Louis:

OI OI!!

I am absolutely buzzing right now! I’m chuffed to pieces for you both. I can’t wait to meet your baby and you best believe I’m going to spoil her rotten!

Give bump a kiss from her Uncle Lou!! Can’t wait to see you all Christmas. Love you xx

Anne:

Congratulations my darlings. Words can’t describe how proud I am of you both. You really do deserve all the happiness. Thank you for making me a Grandma, but a bigger thank you for blessing me with a precious granddaughter🩷I love you three so much xx

Gemma:

YOU’RE HAVING A GIRL!!

I’M GOING TO BE AN AUNTIE TO A GIRL

I’M HAVING A NIECE!!

🩷🩷🩷

Lottie:

YEEEEEEEEESSSS! OMG I’M CRYING! I’m so happy for you both💖I can’t wait to meet your baby girl xxxxx

Phoebe:

I KNEW IT!! I’M SO EXCITED!! OUR BABY GIRLS ARE GOING TO BE BESTIES🩷🩷

Daisy:

Another Niece!💓💓💓I’m the luckiest auntie in the world. Congratulations xx

Mark:

Another granddaughter💕I am truly blessed. Congratulations!!xx

Jen:

What beautiful news. Congratulations sweethearts. We are over the moon for you. Love you all xx

Jeff:

A mini YN…good luck H😂😂

Congratulations both! We are thrilled for you and can’t wait to meet your little girl❤️

Mitch:

Uncle Mitchy can’t wait!! Congratulations both!

Sarah:

Aww how cute! Congratulations guys!💖

Pauli:

YESSSSS!! WOOOOOO!! 🩷💖💓💕💞

Lloyd:

NO WAY!!❤️

Brad:

You’re going to have your hands full H😂I’m only joking! Congratulations both, amazing news and I can’t wait to meet her🥰

James:

I should have known you were a girl dad H! Best feeling in the world! Congratulations both! X

Louise T:

TEAM PINK🩷Love ya both!xx

Niall:

Uncle Niall favourite niece!! ❤️

Liam:

Wow! Congratulations both, what a lucky little girl she will be to have you both ❤️

Zayn:

Khai and I can’t wait to meet her! Congrats to you both, FaceTime soon? x

---

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the1975attheirverybest · 8 months

Text

COUNTDOWN TO SATVB

Rockstar Dad

A/N: Based on this request.

Warnings: none. But maybe typos.

————

Matty licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The nerves. Excitement. The acting. The dancing around, screaming some of the lyrics out, enunciating some slowly for dramatic effect, almost tearing up as he looked out at crowd. It was all almost over. Just two more songs.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke into the microphone while his hand rotated the pegs on his guitar. His tech guy, backstage, watching in agony and scampering to find the peg tuner, before Matty completely ruins his hard work.

“We’ve had a long year-“ he paused “who here has seen us before? On our last tour…" the crowd cheered energetically, drawing a smile from him. “Alright! So, we’ve had a long year since our 5th album came out — our 5th album, Being Funny In a Foreign Language, came out in….October of last year, it’s now the end of September; so almost a year— it’s been quite a year, but you know what? We are….STILL at our very best, I’ll tell you that.” He paused, breathing in deeply. “And, we would like to thank a few people who have helped keep us that way. So…” Matty’s eyes wandered over to his two favorite people in the world, momentarily distracting him. As he thought about how his baby girl’s face lit up, earlier in the night, when she watched him walk onto the stage alongside the guys, how her uncoordinated hands had tried to mirror her mother’s clapping along to the rhythm of “Its Not Living,” her waving at him and mouthing “hello!” At the opening lines of “Paris,” as soon as he’d crooned the line “she said hello,” matty was overcome with emotion. He gave his family a small nod. “Give it up for you guys!” He laughed “thank you for coming to our show. We wouldn’t be here without you….” He refocused his eyes, looking at the crowd, taking in the sight. “ Mr. Brad Troemel, without whom, this psychedelic drama wouldn’t exist….”

As he made his way through the list of people that he owed gratitude, Matty watched his wife beam with proud, nodding along, applauding, and even though her claps disappeared into a sea of indistinguishable, identical sounds from the crowd, Matty felt hers differently. He could see that she was telling him to take the moment in. To be present. To be proud of himself.

“Most importantly, though…” He set down his guitar, his stealthy guitar tech ceasing the opportunity to swoop in and replace it with another instrument, and walked over to the side of the stage. “Give it up for my two favorite ladies.”

Matty jumped offstage, the crowd cheering and whistling loudly, his security staff rushing to keep up with him. He took his daughter into his arms. She was ecstatic to finally be in her daddy’s arms after calling out to him and sticking her arms out, gesturing for him to come to her all night.

Matty paused in front of the stage, considering his dilemma. How was he going to climb back on with his precious baby in his arms? Luckily for him, Mark understood what was going on, and so did Ross. While Mark lifted Matty back up, Ross held the baby in his arms, greeting her gently and cooing to her as she impatiently wiggled around, desperate to be reunited with her dad.

“A long time ago; in a whole other life, I used to do this thing…” Matty reminisced in front of the microphone, ‘An Encounter’ playing in the background. “Where I would kiss fans. I mean- fans who’s asked for it. I wasn’t, like, walking going up to random women and just kissing their lips for no reason, just to clarify.” He wandered over to Ross, taking his daughter back into his arms. “Cuz the internet does love a ‘Matty Healy is a creep’ story. This’ll

Probably be viral by the end of the night. Headlines like ‘Matty Healy confesses to getting off with several fans onstage.’ Anyway, what was I saying? Right! It was a thing. During robbers. You know? The Robbers Kiss.” Crowds cheering loudly promoted Adam to walk up behind Matty and fix the baby girl’s noise canceling headphones, making sure they lined up perfectly and provided maximum protection.

“Nowadays though?” Matty grinned widely, turning to look into his daughters eyes. “This is the only kiss that I care about.” He placed the gentles, softest kiss to his baby’s cheek.

When the crowd swooned, reacting the only way that one could possibly react to the infamous reformed dirtbag melting, rather publicly, at the mere sight of his baby girl, Matty’s daughter seemed to realize, for the first time, that she was looking at an endless sea of human beings, as far out as her eyes could see. Her moth fell open, hypnotized, she stared at the twinkling lights. In his ear piece, Matty heard George say something about this being the moment that his child discovers what Matty does for a living. Watching his daughter’s face, Matty’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“You see that, baby? Daddy’s a rockstar. All these people….” His voice getting caught in his throat, he chuckled, kissing the very top of her head and walking over to where the security guys were anxiously waiting.

Reluctantly, he handed the love of his life back to them, standing there, with a watchful eye, and waiting to resume his post until he’d made sure that she was back in the safety of her mothers arms.

He wiped the tears out of his eyes with the back of his arm. “That’s was a…” he rushed over to the microphone. “Anyway, if you were on tumblr in 2013, this one’s for you.”

George’s cue to play ‘Robbers.’

#matty healy writing #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader

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justlemmeadoreyou · 9 months

Note

I saw requests were open and I have one☺️. How about one when you are like Brad Pitts daughter or anyone famous daughter and you just started dating and his team or Friends like make fun of you and hurt your feelings or just say he is using you.

hi hun!! thank you for sending the request!! i hope you like this!!!

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Warnings: cursing, kissing

masterlist!! | send requests!!

“He’s just using you because your dad is an A-lister”

Those were the words Y/n wished to never hear. But, she always did, in her every relationship.It was when her friends began to say that, that she knew the relationship was reaching its end.

Y/n. Y/n Pitt. The daughter of Brad.

She was almost as famous as her father, if not less. A successful model and actress, a philanthropist and currently, the girlfriend of Harry Styles.

Her fame and success didn’t come handy, despite her father being a prominent name in the industry. Her career got a big break when she won a prestigious beauty pageant, and she has never looked back ever since. She made her way by herself, from the bottom to where she is now.

Still, whenever she hears the phrase “he used you”, it hits like a dagger deep into her heart, and that makes her question if she would ever be loved by anyone for who she is.

Which takes her back to today, sitting in a cafe with her friends, which was supposed to be a hang out. But, soon it turned into a relationship discussion, full of petty gossips and hate. About her and Harry.

“Dude, you know that he is with you because of your dad, right? I mean, come on, Y/n! You can’t be this naive!”

“That’s totally true! I mean, like, think about it, next month is the opening of your family production house, which was announced 6 months ago. And, Harry started dating you just around that. That just can’be a fucking coincidence.”

She sighed, as she listened to the both of them trash talk Harry. She knew they weren’t true. They hadn’t met 6 months ago. They had met a year ago, and occasionally saw each other at awards and openings. They did some harmless flirting for so many months, but then, one day, they were drunk and hooked up. After that, they started to date. It was Harry’s idea, because he didn’t want her to feel like he did all that flirting to get in her pants one day. He genuinely liked her, and was hoping to ask her out. And that had felt like the perfect opportunity.

They had been happy ever since. Harry didn’t inquire too deeply about their family’s business. He wasn’t interested in her money and fame. He was interested in her. He liked her. Right?

“Y/n! Are you even listening?” she was broken from her trance of thoughts by her friend, and she immersed herself back into the conversation.

“You have got to do some background check on him. See what he does on meetings with his team. He just finished a tour, he wouldn’t be planning another one so soon. You know, snoop around, find out stuff.”

“I am not going to do that! That would mean I don’t trust him! And I do! I trust him. And what he does on meetings with his pr team is his Harry!!!business. I don’t want to put my nose in between.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Yeah. Say him hi from us if you see him soon. Or if you see him at all”

That hurt her.

True, they both hadn’t seen each other since a few days. Weeks, if you will. But, he told her that he was busy and had to visit his mum for a while. And how could she argue with that?

She decided to not answer them back, terminating any further arguments. They changed the topic soon after, talking about some other gossip.

. . .

Throwing her stuff on the floor, she slumped down on the bed. The workout was good, but sometimes, it drained the whole life out of her.

After catching her breath, she got up and pulled out her phone, pulling up Harry’s contact.

They had texted three days ago, and the messages made her smile,

Harry: Okay, so, do you like tea or not?

Y/n: I like tea. But not that much hat you will bring me a while shop of your “Special England tea”!!

Harry: It’s not even that much. Plus, I will drink it with you.

Y/n: But still???

Harry: Come on!!

Y/n: Alright, fine! But you will make tea for me. Every morning and evening.

Harry: Done! Always at your service, ma’am! 🫡 Plus, you know, tea has antioxidants. And it boosts immunity! I can make a cuppa for you everytime after we fuck.

Y/n: Harry!!!

Harry: What?? It really boosts energy. After one round, you feel so tired and—

Y/n: Alright, stop! You’re such a menace.

Harry: I’m your menace!! You took responsibility of this menace those months ago.

Y/n: Don’t make me regret that!

Harry: Aww :(( I’m sad now.

Y/n: Wanna facetime?

Harry: Yess! But I’m still sad :(( 🙁

Y/n: Yes, Harry. I will make it up to you! Now call before I change my mind.

Harry: Yes, ma’am 🫡

They used to text regularly, but called rarely. The last call had been about a week ago, when he was drunk and had butt-dialled her. They had talked, and she managed to safely halp him get to his room, drink water and go to sleep. And he slept without hanging up, and so did she. Harry woke up at midnight, and started sneezing, which woke her up. She wanted to check him for fever, but he promised he was okay, and was going back home soon after, so she didn’t have to worry afout him. She was a bit assured by that, but still, she couldn’t stopped worrying.

He hadn’t called ever since. Even the last one was a accident.

She wasn’t the clingy type, or someone who needed calling and texting every minute and every hour of the day. They both had professional careers that mattred to them profusely. But, she missed him. So, she decided to call.

He picked up, and was clearly in the middle of something.

“Y/n! How are you?” she didn’t hear them clearly, over all the talking in the background.

“Harry! Where are you?!”

“I’m in a meeting!”

“But-you were supposed to be at your mum’s!”

“Yeah! I came back early. I had a meeting her in LA. It’s about an upcoming film.”

“A film!?”

“Yeah. It’s in the talks. I haven’t signed it yet, though.”

“What is this about?!”

“I’ll tell you, I’m coming back sson. Then we can go on a dinner or something. And hey! I almost forgot! The production is done by your dad’s firm!! Isn’t that great!”

Shit.

“Oh! You-you didn’t tell me that.”

“Yeah, your dad asked me not to. But, it’s gonna be on the media soon, so I thought you hear it from me rather than the press.”

“Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk later.”

“Sure, love! Bye!”

And she cut the call.

Were her friends right? Did he use her for all these months just for this?

Maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t.

She felt sad. Sure, the offer might’ve been by her dad, but, no one talked to her? No one even bothered to even tell her about it, till the last moment. Till the paparazzi were gonna know so that she won’t feel bad for herself by hearing it from them.

Maybe they were right. Maybe he did date her to get the advantage, and will soon breakup with her, as soon as his job from her is over.

As soon as he has finished using her.

. . .

He was coming back today. But, she wasn’t bothered. He could come, and go back to his own house. Not bother talking to her, or even seeing her face. She didn’t want that.

Despite that, she picked up his call.

“Y/n? You didn’t pick up my call yesterday. Was calling you before I got on the plane.”

“Yeah-I was kinda busy yesterday.”

“Oh. So? I’m back. I’m gonna get my baggage and then…maybe I can come over?” he smiled, she could tell.

“Uh-I don’t know, Harry. I’m tired. I had a shoot yesterday and I haven’t eaten much.”

“So? Let me take you to dinner.”

“I’d rather stay ion tonight”

“So I–”

“Alone.”

“Oh. Alright. Okay. Call me if you need me.”

I won’t. She thought to herself.

“Bye, Harry” not “Bye, lovie” or “Bye, H”

Maybe she was tired. Harry decided not to think about it too much, and instead, went to his house.

. . .

“Harry!! How’s my man?”

“Hey! I’m good! You know, same old-same old.”

“Yeah! Where’s Y/n? She isn’t here?”

“No, man. She actually wanted to rest today. She had a shoot yesterday”

“No, she didn’t. She was with us yesterday. We went shopping, and then drinks, even.”

“Oh…”

“Maybe she was tired? Or hungover?”

“Or maybe she didn’t want to be with me.”

“Hey! Don’t say that. She actually likes you. Talk to her.”

“Yeah. I will”

He didn’t talk to her.

. . .

Y/n was scrolling through her phone, when she heard the door knock.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Harry.”

She wanted to pretend she wasn’t here. But, it was too late for that.

“Coming!”

She opened the door, and was welcomed with white peonies. A lot of them.

“Good morning, love”

She couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face on seeing him in the morning. The glowy face, the handsome smile.

“Good morning! Come in”

He walked in, removing his shoes, and to the kitchen to put the flowers in water.

He came back, and she was sitting on the sofa.

“I put them in water. Hope you don’t mind”

“No! I don’t. Come on, sit.”

He sat, to hug her, and sling a hand over her shoulder.

But, she slid away.

So, he sat away too, both ending up on the opposite ends of the large sofa.

“So? How you’ve been?”

“I’m fine, thank you! How was your shoot that day?”

“It was alright.”

Lie. He didn’t bother asking her more, not wanting to hear more lies.

“You free today?”

“Yeah…I think so?”

“So, can we go out? A coffee or something?”

“Or, we can hang out here.”

She smiled. He caught it, and scooted closer, wanting to kiss her.

She didn’t protest, allowed his lips on hers. It was when he deepened it, and his hands went to her shirt buttons.

“Harry–Harry!”

He pulled back, confused.

“Yeah?”

I-I don’t really feel like– you know”

“Oh. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. I just don’t feel too up for it”

“Sure.” they both looked down, an awkward silence engulfing the atmosphere.

“I should leave” he said after a few seconds, taking the hint that she clearly didn’t want him there.

“Oh. You don’t wanna stay?”

“Not really.”

Saying that, he saw his way out.

“She dosen’t like me anymore. Maybe found someone else.” he thought

“He got what he wanted. Why is he staying? He should leave already.” she thought.

Harry was sad. As he walked towards his car, he felt anger. She didn’t like him anymore. Could’ve just said to him at his face.

He couldn’t live like this. So, he decided to got back to confront her.

Before Y/n could close the door shut, Harry was back.

“Harry?”

“Yeah. Me.” he growled, so angry, his eyes were red, and fists clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, a bit scared.

“You tell me what happened. You don’t like me anymore?”

“That’s not–how can you say that?”

“You don’t talk to anymore, you don’t call me, or even text me. You don’t want to hang out with me, hell, you can’t even stand kissing me anymore.” he was hovering over her, and she was scared now. He realized that, and backed down, throwing himself on the couch.

“That’s not true! And you can’t talk like that to me!”

“I’m sorry. But you could just tell me. Instead of making me suffer like that. Or do you like that?”

She too was angry now.

“Maybe I do. Right now, I fucking do. And that is much better than what you did to me!”

“And what did I do?!”

“You used me. You fucking used me to get contacts with my family. You just wanted to get close to my dad so that you could use his money on your stupid new movie!!”

“What? Fuck! You think that low of me?!”

They both were yelling now.

“It’s not “thinking low” of you. It’s what’s true.. You didn’t even tell me anything. Hell, I didn’t even know you were doing another movie.”

“I was planning on telling you over dinner. After I came back.”

“But, you couldn’t. You feared that I would learn everything from the media, so you told me haphazardly over a fucking call!”

“Oh, so would you rather have heard it from them?”

“Could’ve been better. Better than hearing from a fucking liar. A fucking loser who just used me to get my father’s money.”

“Watch your tone, Y/n. I haven't gone that low. And you know that.”

“Maybe I don’t. Maybe you did, and once you got it, came back here to break up with me.”

“You’re so fucking childish!”

“Oh. Break up with me, then. Do it”

“Maybe I will” he mocked her. And walked out the door, slamming it shut.

He went back to his car, and made his way inside this time. Once the anger had subsided, he cried. And so did she.

. . .

“Harry styles rejected a movie produced by Y/n Pitt’s father. A coincidence or a desperate attempt?”

She slumped, when she read the article. and then about ten more, about how he had backed down in order to save his relationship. Some said that it was a publicity stunt.

She pulled up Harry’s contact, calling him.

"Why?"

"To get it off your mind that I did not use you."

"Fuck, Harry. What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you. I want you."

"Really?"

"Yes, y/n. really. I did not give up a million dollar project for just "really""

"You didn't have to, you know. And that wasn't a good bargain either. What did you get? Me? Should've taken the movie instead."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah"

"You want me to break up with you. And take the movie instead.?"

"Yes. if that's what you want."

"What I want is you. How do I say it so you believe me?"

"Take me on a date."

. . .

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cowboybeepboop · 1 year

Text

Through the window

“Fuck you”

“Baby thats what youre gonna do”

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2214

Summary: Late night self pleasure turns into more than self pleasure.

Warnings: p in v, mainly porn with some plot, disgusting words for clit cause it got a little awkward at 1 am, use of vibrator, age gap (like three years), major daddy issues, kinda some Voyeurism, roughness from Bradley but with sweetness, praise kink, hair pulling, getting caught.

A/N: Literally just me writing this while sobbing to Shawn Mendes songs, also I wrote most of it while sitting out in front of my school 💪😩💪 I’m a fucking vibe. I don't know if there's like a big fandom on here anymore considering Top Gun Mav has been out for a while now but yk who cares. Also lowkey have been binging Harry Potter and the last of us so maybe I’ll write some of that later. Not proof read like ever

Bradley has been your built-in best friend, being Mavericks daughter means that you spent the majority of your childhood eating dinners with Carole, having Carole brush your hair and tuck you into bed. Carole Bradshaw became your adoptive mom, she taught you to cook, bake, sew, she helped you with your homework and made sure you knew your worth.

Mav was hardly ever around, he put his heart and soul into being a better person so that Goose wouldn’t be disappointed in him, this being said he forgot about the responsibility of actually taking care of his child. But you never blamed him for it, maybe it’s because when he was there with you all he ever wanted to do was cuddle on the couch watching your favorite films. Sometimes he would come home and lay his head on your lap and you would brush and braid his hair.

So, because of your sometimes absentee father, Bradley filled in. He was there with Mav for every milestone, kindergarten graduation, elementary school choir concerts, he even took time from his busy schedule to come to your highschool graduation.

Which makes your sexual attraction to him all the more disgusting, he basically was your stand in father, even though he was only 3 years older than you. But when Maverick finally realized he had a responsibility to spend more time with you, Brad stopped being like a father figure and more like an older friend who you had the hots for.

Bradley hasn’t been home for months-or longer, you totally haven’t been counting, and it totally hasn’t been exactly 8 months 3 weeks and 5 days. He isn’t planning on coming back any time soon, at least if he is he hasn’t told you, which is why you’re stuck pouting with your face between your hands as a few people purchase drinks from the bar.

You work at Penny’s bar, The Hard Deck, which is lowkey awkward considering your dad used to date her. But nonetheless she treats you like her own daughter. The only thing you dislike about working with her is the fact that she scolds you when you flirt while working, it's understandable but makes you want to roll your eyes.

Maverick walks in with a small smile on his face, sitting down at the bar in front of you, “How’s your day Y/N?”.

“It’s pretty good Mav, Penny might want to talk to you though,” winking at him you walk away, heading in the direction of the dart board.

“Hey boys, need a refill?” you smile sweetly, tapping your heel against the wooden floor softly.

“Thank you, baby girl,” Hangman smirks as he hands you the empty bottles, “you know which tab to add it to right?” he nods toward Coyote.

You give a small nod and head back to the bar to grab two more beer bottles, you add the total to Coyote’s tab. He lost in darts, even after covering Jake’s eyes, one more night and you don’t think you’ll be able to withstand his charm any longer.

“Y/N it’s time for you to clock out, if you want to beat the rush and get to your date on time,” your eyes light up.

“Thank you Pen!” you smile gathering your things before clocking out. “See you tomorrow evening.” Penny nods at you, smiling at you softly as you rush out of the door.

__________

Hours have passed along with another failed attempt at online dating. Both things have led to you lying in your bed holding your breath as you imagine what it'd be like if Bradley came home and surprised you.

It started off innocent, him holding your waist close to him, the heat radiating from his chest as you sucked in a deep breath. Basking in his mahogany, sandalwood and vanilla musky scent, it made your knees weak, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your body felt hot, like you were boiling from the insides out. Squeezing your legs tightly together to keep your panties from soaking your bedsheets.

While biting your lip you carefully open the shoebox hidden underneath your bed, grabbing your bright pink bullet vibrator. If your dad came home, you’d know, so locking the door wasn’t a big priority.

Sucking in a deep breath you relax against your plush mattress. Licking your lips you spread your legs being gentle while unbuttoning your shirt, being slow with each button to build up the tension.

Once you finally peel off your blouse, you throw it to the side of the room before leisurely unzipping your skirt. You’re starting to become impatient, every part of your body is aching to be touched by Bradley’s calloused hands.

“For fucks sake,” a soft whine escapes your parted lips, squeezing your eyes shut you begin roaming your hands all over your body. You squeeze the soft part of your body, moaning Bradley’s name as you do so.

Spreading your legs, you pull down your panties, running a finger through your soaked lips. Once you find the bundle of nerves you start rubbing soft and steady circles into it, this causes your hips to jerk a little while your eyes roll back.

You wrap a hand around your neck putting a comfortable amount of pressure on it, soft moans spill from your lips as you push your hips up begging for more friction. You press the smooth button, listening to the faint hum, you press down two more times. The soft hum from before has become more intense and slightly louder.

Let’s be honest, masturbation is nothing compared to sex. Especially the sex you’ve been dreaming and lusting over since age 16.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you press the rough tip against the hood of your clit, your muscles all tense up while your breathing stops for just a second. It sounded like a rock or something else small had hit your window, after waiting for a few seconds you decide it's probably nothing and press the vibrator against your nub.

You bite down on your lip harshly, squeezing your neck roughly. Sadly, you have a shitty toy because desperate times call for desperate measures so there isn’t much more it can give. Removing the hand from your neck, pushing two fingers into your pulsating hole.

Unbeknownst to yourself, there was now a visitor in your room, one who snuck in from your open window. Hiding in the dark corner next to your window, a hand clasped against his mouth as he absorbed the sight of you desperate and needy begging for more.

“Bradley harder!” you moan loudly, as you pick up the pace of your fingers,your back arching. Cum spills from your pussy, you sink back into the mattress, sighing discontentedly.

“Oh, Sweetheart.” the familiar voice rings through the now silent room. You instantly throw your hands over your chest and squeeze your legs together tightly. “If you needed some help you could have just asked for it.” Bradley walks out into the middle of your room, staring down at you with darkened eyes.

“B-bradley, when did you get in here?” you try to play it cool but sweat is forming on your forehead as you rapidly cover up with a blanket, eyes shifting to the window.

“Do you mean, how much did I see? Or rather how much I heard?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, you nod as your cheeks turn a deep red. “Not much, just you pleading for me to be rougher, is that really how you like it princess?”.

“Bradley! Shut up,” you cover your face with your hands while trying to figure out the best thing for you to do now. “Look, I didn’t know you were stopping by. I’m sorry that you, uhm, that you saw what you saw.” Your voice cracks while you barely take a breath, his shoes clack against the floor as he makes his way to you.

The dip in the bed being the sign that he’s next to you. “Y/N, I really don’t care.” He pries your hands off your face. “I know you didn’t know I was coming into town, because it was a surprise.” He sucks in a deep breath, “I just didn’t know I was the one who would be surprised.”

The room fills with silence, just your accelerated breathing and the ticking of your alarm clock. “Hey Brad… Can you please leave?” you push your face into your knees.

Bradley licks his lips, “I think I have a better idea,” he runs a finger down your spine while pressing kisses into your shoulder. Your body relaxes into him as you sigh quietly, he pulls your face from your legs “Look at me, my pretty girl,” you slowly open your eyes while avoiding making eye contact,

“Darlin’ I want you to look in my eyes,” biting your lower lip you look up at him innocently, his hands move to cup your cheeks and pull you into his face. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grips your neck and leans into kiss you.

You move onto his lap while tangling your fingers in his hair, he groans into your mouth before pulling back. Bradley pulls away from your lips and moves to kiss your neck, using his body to push your back against your bed. You gasp as he explores your body with his mouth, calloused fingers pinching your nipples.

Arching into him you moan loudly as he pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy. “You like that?” his voice low and seductive, using his thumb he presses your nub softly. Bradley presses kisses all over your stomach, groaning at the sight of you so needy under him, pre cum leaks from his tip as he grinds against the bed.

“I need you right now, please,” you grab Bradley by his face and pull him up. Kissing his lips passionately while grinding down on his fingers.

“Oh what a needy little slut you are, huh?” He pushes two more fingers into you, “is this what you needed? Or is this a little more up your alley.” He smirks while wrapping a hand around your throat, applying ample pressure.

“Fuck you,” you groan, lips parting as your chest heaves, gasps pouring from your mouth.

“Baby, that's what you’re gonna do,” he taunts, Bradshaw has had enough. He finally lays down and pulls you onto his stomach, his hands massage your thighs as he lifts your hips up.

“Bradley wait,” your hands rest on his chest, “ condom, left middle drawer”. He leans over grabbing the small golden wrapper, ripping it open with his teeth, fumbling with the latex as he squeezes it over his tip.

“Thanks for reminding me princess,” he tucks your hair behind your ear, “now ride me babe,”.

Lining your hole up with his tip you begin to lower yourself down on him, moans leave your parted lips. He furrows his eyebrows, hands moving up to cup your breasts, you sink down on his length, wincing at the uncomfortable stretch.

“Fuck, good girl,” bradley groans, his shakey breathing fills your senses. You lift your hips slowly bouncing on his dick, he grabs your ass squeezing roughly. Your hands explore his abs as you use his body to steady your own.

Your eyes squeeze tight, body tightening up around him. Twirling your fingers into your hair you grasp the strands pulling at his roots.

Bradley flips the pair of you over, his eyes dark and dominant as he hovers over you, his hips thrust into yours at a steady pace. He lowers his head to suck on your erect nipple, one hand wraps around your neck squeezing just enough to slow your breathing.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him to you, kissing his lips passionately, your nails dig into his back. Bradley presses his middle finger into your clit, rubbing rough circles into it, while trying to hold back moans you bury your face in his nape.

His thrusts become sloppy, bradleys hand tightens around your neck causing you to arch into him, he leans down sucking dark hickeys into your neck. “Darling, I’m so close,” the sound of skin slapping fills the room as you nod in response.

“Me too Bradley,” you whine quietly. Bradley uses his middle and pointer finger to rub sloppy circles into your sensitive nub, causing your body to jerk forward and your eyes to flutter shut, soft moans fill his ears.

He runs his hand through your hair pulling your head back. Bradley throws his head back in pleasure, you begin to tighten up around him drawing out a long groan. “Rooster,” you chant his name, “more, please I need more,”, he complies with your desires and angles your bodies so he hits even deeper.

Hugging your body close to his, he thrusts a couple more times before you cum around him, Bradley slows down as he cums. His body jerks softly, “Thats the best welcome home present ive ever gotten love,” he whispers into your ear.

Your bedroom door opens, revealing Maverick, “Get your clothes on and meet me in the living room,” his stern voice shakes you to the core.

Well shit

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shanair · 1 month

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Rick and Morty X F!Reader | S1E6

Episode Name- Rick Potion #9

Word Count- 4,398

Morty and I stand around at our lockers at school, I scroll on my phone as he gets his stuff. Principal… Vagina speaks overhead on the intercom. Man, our school is a joke.

“Principal Vagina here, don't let the name fool you, I'm very much in charge, reminding you that tonight is our annual flu season dance. I don't know how many times I have to say this but if you have the flu, stay home, the flu season dance is about awareness, not celebration. You don't bring dead babies to Passover.”

I find myself snickering at what probably wasn’t meant to be a joke. I look up at the sound of Morty slamming his locker shut to look over at Jessica, whom her friends had just approached. He doesn’t look in my direction, but I know what he’s going to do- god that idiot needs to stop trying to get with her, it’s so sad to watch.

“Ohhh. Okay, here we go.” I hear him psych himself up, I should stop him. Butttt, sad or not it’s entertaining. He walks over to her nervously. “H-Hey, Jessica, uhh-”

“What's up, Morty?” She greeted before sneezing. Morty stutters again but Brad doesn’t give him the chance to respond. He swings Jessica behind him with his arm, I scoff audibly.

“What are you doing?” He butts in, already up in Morty’s face. I push myself off the locker to stand near Morty.

“Ummm…” Morty stammered.

“Wait, wait. Were you about to talk... to her?” Brad points to Jessica.

“Well, I mean, I was thinking about it.”

“Dude-” Brad taps Morty’s chest, “stay in your league! Look at how hot she is! You don't see me going to a bigger school in a wealthier district and hittin' on their prettiest girl!” Jessica sighs and lets Brad lead her away, I hear her sarcastically mutter.

“Gee, thanks, Brad.”

“I throw balls far. You want good words, date a languager.” Brad yaps as he walks off with Jessica. At least she seemed, happier talking to Morty? I guess? I wrap my arm around Morty, grinning at him.

“Oh don’t worry about it too much, Morty. She’ll dump him soon enough after she’s done with his bullshit.”

“W-well that’s easy for you to say. I don’t want her later, I want her now- so I can go to the dance with her!” He sighs. He does make a good point, I shrug at him.

“Be realistic! There is no way you can make her like you right now. Can we go now?”

“Fine, fine.” He swats my arm off as we go to class.

. . .

I follow Rick into the kitchen as he gets something to drink, Dad stands behind the counter making a complex sandwich while Morty sits solemnly in front of him, with a plate of cookies.

“...I remember feeling that way about a young lady named your mom, and that's not an urban dis, your mom was my Jessica. I remember the first time I saw her, I thought…”

“--I should get her pregnant, then she'll have to marry me” Rick interjects as he grabs a glass and opens the fridge, I walk over to Morty and steal a cookie. He’s too sad to care, score!

“I beg your pardon, Rick, inappropriate.” Dad warned as he pointed to Morty and I.

“Sorry, please proceed with your story about banging my daughter in high school,” Rick rolled his eyes, “I'm not sure you want to take romantic advice from this guy, Morty, his marriage is hanging from a thread.”

“My marriage is fine, thank you.” Dad replied defensively, turning around fully to Rick as he walked up.

“Jerry, it's your house, whatever you say it is is how it is, but I think a blind man could see that Beth is looking for the door. I barely have a reason to care and even I noticed.”

“Rick that’s harsh,” I add, Morty tacks on.

“Come on, Rick, don't talk about our parents like that.”

“Listen, Morty, I hate to break it to you, but what people call "love" is a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. It hits hard, Morty, then it slowly fades, leaving you stranded in a failing marriage. I did it, your parents are gonna do it. Break the cycle, Morty. Rise above. Focus on science. At least your sister isn’t pinning over a rando anymore.” Rick monologued before leaving the room with his juice. As much as I like to be the better sibling I am still pinning, but at least not to Morty’s level. Don’t know if I should be disappointed or proud of his tenacity. The silence drags out as Dad walks over to us.

“Alright, well, I'm gonna go get dressed for the dance.” Morty said awkwardly before leaving his seat. Dad looks at me awkwardly.

“Yeah, I'm just going to...check on your mom.” He walks off too, both of them leaving me alone in the kitchen.

“And they both left perfectly good food.” I comment at the discarded cookies and sandwich, I ponder skipping the dance and just sitting here but Morty shouldn’t suffer alone.. I guess. I finish up the cookies while I wait for Morty to finish getting ready.

Once he’s out of our room I take the chance to get ready myself. I sit on my side of the room, taking my time to get dressed. I don’t care about this dance but I might as well look nice. Besides, maybe Olivia will be there. I’m not a big dress person but I put on an old one that Summer had, I could almost hear her when she gave it to me. ‘What and you’re so skinny then? Fine! You have it then, I don’t care!’, and then she ran out of the room crying. It wasn’t my fault, she asked how it looked on her and I said snug- oh. Yeah, I see why, oops. My dilemma ends when I realize I had zoned out thinking about that memory and now I’m ready.

I walk to Rick’s garage, knowing that’s where Morty probably was, and I was right. My face dropped as I saw Morty as he was starting to zip his fly down, Rick was leaned over a machine near him with his back towards me. Morty gives me a dumbfounded face, I scrunch mine up in aversion.

“Am I interrupting, or???” I ask cautiously, Morty pulls it back up.

“Rick needed DNA.” He shrugs and Rick shakes his head before turning back to Morty.

“A hair, Morty, I needed one of your hairs! This isn't Game Of Thrones.” He plucks a hair from Morty. Morty shrieked quietly as Rick plucked a strand off his head. He shoves the hairpiece into the machine which deposits an orangey substance into a flask.

“What is this for exactly?” I question while walking to take a better look.

“Your brother wanted to make a love potion, so I used the oxytocin from voles combined with his DNA to concoct this.” Rick picks up the flask, handing it to Morty. “Alright, Morty, whoever you smear this stuff on will fall in love with you, and only you, forever. Ya happy now, Morty?” He walks away to sit back on his desk.

“Heck yeah! Thank you, Grandpa Rick!” Morty cheered as he took the potion happily. “Hey there's no dangers or anything or side effects, right?”

“Www.. what am I, a hack?! Go nuts, Morty, it's full proof.”

“Are you sure, Rick? Positive that nothing will go wrong? No small tiny details?” I push. Knowing Rick there has got to be something iffy about this. You can’t just mess around with love that delicately. Morty tugs on my arm as Rick turns back over.

“W-what are you going to doubt Rick’s invention? Let’s go! Jessica is waiting for me!” Morty frowned as he pulled me out of the room. Oh boy.

. . .

“This isn’t a good idea Morty!” I insist as we walk around the dance looking for Jessica.

“Shh! You’re just jealous… Oh! There she is!” Morty smiled. He pulled the potion out and smeared it on his hands. I sigh and accept he’s going to do this. I instead glance around the gym. It was decently packed, who knew a dance about flu prevention would have no physical aspects to enforce flu prevention? Eh, our school is a shithole anyway. Oh no, our school is a shithole. I can already feel myself worrying about catching the flu again, sure I have the shot, but these kids probably have an advanced strain that’ll mutilate my immune system. I wonder how many people have already spread it around.

“Hey there, Jessica” Morty reaches Jessica, pretending to trip as he smears the potion on her exposed arm. “Whoops!”

She turns around, I can see the change in her demeanor as she grabs him close to her.

“Omigod, Morty. You look really nice tonight.”

“O-Wow, thanks!”

“I love you, Morty. I love you so much it burns!” I cringe as she starts caressing his face.

“Oh, man. I love you too, Jessica!” Morty smiled like an idiot up at her while Brad shoved in between the two.

“Is this punk bothering you, Jessica?!”

“Leave him alone, jerk!” Jessica hissed as she lost her shit. She gets up in Brad’s face aggressively. “I'm in love with him! He's more man than you will ever be!” She sneezes into his face. Yeah, sure she’s trying to defend Morty, but she could have at least covered when sneezing.

Brad’s face contorts a little before merging into remorse, surprisingly. He sighs.

“Aw man, Morty, ugh, I'm really sorry.”

“Oh, well, no problem Brad.” Morty replied, equally confused as I am. I see him glance over at me and I shrug in return.

“There's somethin' special bout you, somethin' special.” Brad hugs Morty before squeezing his ass. Something’s not right here.

“Whoa, take it easy!” Morty shouted as he pushed Brad off. Jessica grabs Morty’s left arm, narrowing her eyes at Brad.

“Get your hands off of him!” She screeched.

“Back off I'm trying to be with my man!” Brad shouted back before Principal Vagina and Mr. Goldenfold pull him off.

“That's enough Bradley. We don't want you injuring your ball-throwing arm.” Principal Vagina said as they dragged Brad off.

“Never leave me, Morty, never.” Jessica pulls Morty with her and I grab him. I see her glare daggers at me.

“Morty, you need to end this now. I have a bad feeling.” I whisper to him in a hushed voice. I overhear Brad's calling out for Morty as he’s brought out of the gym. “See?” Morty gives me a nervous look before Jessica intervenes.

“You have a problem, bitch?!” She gets in my face, pushing Morty behind him. “You want him too?! You can’t have him! You can never have him– or take him away from me.”

“Jesus Christ Jessica no I do not want to… take Morty away from you, I just want to talk to him.”

“LIAR!” She shouted before grappling me.

“Jessica stop it!” I hear Morty protest, and other students look at us strangely. I throw Jessica to the ground but she immediately stands up, running at me like a madman. Okay why is it always Morty getting us into these situations, I can’t even go a week peacefully. But I’m his sister, so today cannot be the day where I start ditching him. So of course, I square up.

. . .

Jessica ends up shoving me into the crowd, and one of her friends catches me. She fucking growls at me before turning back to Morty. She pushes herself up against him.

“Do it, Morty. Do it. Rip my clothes off and mate with me for life!”

“Jessica, get a hold of yourself!” The friend cried out before dropping me and rushing up to Morty to hold him as well. “You don’t deserve to carry Morty’s genes.” Simultaneously, everyone surrounding the fight gets the same possessive look in their eyes. I’m pushed back as even the DJ starts to sing about Morty.

“I love Morty and I hope Morty loves me I'd like to wrap my arms around him and feel him inside me”

“Oh, crap. Morty!” I shout over the crowd as they all crowd and fight each other for Morty. I get trampled partially as I push against the rushing crowd into the opening. The exit pushes open behind me and I look up to see Rick.

“(Y/N)!” Rick steadies me as he sees Morty sprinting towards us, the crowd scrambling behind him. “Morty, come on! We got to get you out of here. You're not gonna believe this because it usually never happens, but I made a mistake.” He shuts the door as we rush past, and the doors are immediately rammed into by the horny crowd.

Another door bursts open as Principal Vagina runs behind us.

“Morty, are you okay?”

“I'm fine!” He shouts back.

“Oh, good. If anything ever happened to you, I would kill myself. I love you bad, mo-mo!”

“Ha! You got Mr. Vagina in love with you Morty! M-maybe I am jealous!” I grin through my labored breath. Jeez, this dress is not the running kind.

“Morty, the principal, and I have discussed it, a-a-and we're both insecure enough to agree to a three-way!” Another voice speaks out, I turn around and see Mr. Goldenfold. My eyebrows rise at the prospect but we make it outside. We rush into the ship, Morty trips but I turn him over into the seat. As I grip the handle to pull shut, the crowd pushes it in for me. The vehicle shakes as we settle in.

“I didn't realize when I gave you that serum that Jessica had the flu you know, t-t-t-t-t-t-t-that might have been valuable information for me, Morty.” Rick groaned as he started the ship.

“What the hell is going on, Rick?!” Morty and I ask. Rick glared at our combined question.

“What does it look like? T-t-t-the serum is piggybacking on the virus. It's gone airborne.”

“Oh, crap. What are we gonna do, Rick?” Morty wailed.

“It's gonna be fine, Morty, relax. I whipped up an antidote. It's based on praying mantis DNA. You know, praying mantises are the exact opposite of voles, Morty. I mean, they-they mate once, and then they, you know, decapitate the partner. I mean, it's a whole ritual. It's really gruesome and totally opposite. There's no love at all. I-I-I basically mixed this with a more contagious flu virus. It should neutralize the whole thing, Morty. It'll all be over very shortly.” We fly over the crowd below after Rick pours his antidote into the ship as it expels a mist version over the crowd. “Uh, by the way, Morty, I know you didn't ask or anything, but I'm not interested in having sex with you. These serums, they don't work on anybody related to you genetically.”

“Uhm, obviously!” I retort. “I think we’ve picked up on that. Wait, considering Morty and I are twins, why aren’t they attracted to me?”

“Y-you guys aren’t technically identical twins. You two share most of the same DNA initially, but when your chromosomes changed to XX instead of XY that’s a biggg difference.”

“Is it?”

“Ya, because I said so–”

“OH MY GOD!” Morty screeched, startling me as he stared in horror outside the window. I look out it also, everyone hit by the ‘antidote’ turned into an amalgamation of a praying mantis. Rick grimaced himself.

“Okay, well, sometimes, science is more art than science, twins. A lot of people don't get that.”

. . .

We had parked the ship in a desert canyon. We stand and watch different broadcasts across the world looking for Morty so they can have sex with him before chopping his head off. He paces and freaks out.

“Oh, my god, Rick. The whole world is infected!”

“Yeah, it's pretty wild how fast that spread. I've really outdone myself.” Rick gloats, working on something else connected to the ship.

“Outdone yourself?! W-w a-are are you kidding me, Rick? This is not okay! Not only do they all want to have sex with me, but, you know, now they want to eat me afterwards!”

“Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. Mantises are they opposite of voles? I mean, obviously, DNA's a little more complicated than that. You know what, though, Morty?” He pulls out another vial, this one filled with a purple liquid. “This right here's gonna do the trick, baby. It's koala mixed with rattlesnake, chimpanzee, cactus, shark, golden retriever, and just a smidge of dinosaur. Should add up to normal humanity.”

“I don't that doesn't make any sense, Rick. How does that add up to normal humanity?”

“What, Morty, you want me to show you my math? I'm sorry a-are you the scientist or are you the kid that wanted to get laid?”

“It’s not his fault for being cautious, first you left out important information after we specifically asked for it, then you mess up fixing that mistake and start an apocalypse! Clearly, you don’t know what you’re doing!” I fuss, and Rick sighs obnoxiously.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Since you’re the smartass, you can make a serum to end this.” I stay quiet because I in fact know nothing about what he’s doing. “Exactly, get in the car.” We pile back in before flying back into civilization. The town is already wrecked, fire and destruction everywhere. It’s scary how fast this happened. I’m starting to get nervous now, what if Rick really can’t fix this? He nudges my shoulder. “Take a good look down there, (Y/N), and soak it in, because, you know, once I pull this lever, it's all back to normal.”

“I hope so. Just do it already.”

“Well, technically, (Y/N), there's no rush. I mean, you know, o-once it's fixed, it's done. It's fixed. You know, we could we could just enjoy it for a little bit. I mean, l-l-l-look at how crazy it is. I mean, (Y/N), w-w-when's the next time you're gonna see something like this? I mean, soak it in, you know? It's it's pretty neat. It's pretty interesting.”

“Please shut up–”

“That's it, Rick! I'm pulling the lever.” Morty yells as he pulls the lever, releasing the new antidote. Everyone melts back to normal.

“W-what do we have here, twins? Looks like I was right and you were wrong, huh? I-I-I-I-I-I-I bet you feel pretty stupid right about now, huh? I-I-I bet you both feel like the world's smallest kids that you were doubting me about this whole thing.”

“Oh, Rick,”

“Something's not right.” I exhale as everyone outside starts to crumble down to the ground. Their bodies convulse unnaturally.

“Yeah, you. You're not right ever.”

“No, no! Look, you idiot!” I force Rick to look outside. Everyone screamed as they turned into these fleshy bug-looking creatures. Many with extra appendages, eyes, and some even wings.

Morty and I watch in horror as Rick once again screws up everything. Albeit this idea was Morty’s, Rick could have stopped this if he had just warned us in the beginning.

“Bet you're loving this. This must be the best day of your life. You get to be the mayor of I told you town. You're welcome.” Rick babbled drunkenly as he drank more from his flask.

Holy shit. This is irreversible, isn’t it? The world is in ruins because of Morty’s stupid hormones. Everything is different now, it’s unfixable. What’s happening with our family right now? What if they got ripped apart by those… things? The sun rises on the broken world as we settle down on a rooftop. We walk out to sit on the ledge.

“Boy, I really cronenberged the world up, didn't I? We got a whole planet of cronenbergs walking around down there. Hey, Morty. A-at least they're not in love with you anymore, though. That's a huge step in the right direction.

“Oh, my god! It's a living nightmare! How could you be so irresponsible, Rick?” Morty cried.

“Me irresponsible?! You- all I wanted you to do was hand me a screwdriver, Morty! You're the one who wanted to be wanted me to buckle down and make you up a... roofie-juice serum so you could roofie that poor girl at your school. I mean, g w-w-w-w-w w are you kidding me, Morty? You're gonna try to take the high road on this one? Y-y-y-y-you're a little creep, Morty. Y-you're a you're you're you're just a little creepy... creep person.” Rick lectured as he stood up. Fine, Morty was a creep, is a creep. But Rick is still the ass here.

“All right, fine. I should have just listened to you when you refused to make the serum. I'm willing to accept my part of the blame for this, Rick. But I'll tell you something you know what? You got to accept your part of the blame! I'm not the one who fooled up the serum! I'm not the one who-who-who-who haphazardly, you know, mixed a bunch of nonsense together and created a bunch of cronenbergs! You got to fix this, Rick!” Morty yells defensively as he stands up as well.

“Yeah, Rick! Fix this! There are millions– no billions of lives that are now destroyed because of your crappy serum! Okay? This one is on, you!” I stand up as well, crossing my arms. I now realize how messed up my dress is but in a less torn fashion than Morty’s. I cannot believe I’m saying this but, I miss Summer. Rick steps closer to us, trying to reconcile.

“All right, all right, Morty. You know, w-w-w-we are in a pretty deep hole, here, but I do have one emergency solution that I can use that'll kind of put everything back to normal, relatively speaking. Here, Morty, put this on while I do a little bit of scouting.” Rick tosses Morty this metal backpack with a green panel, before putting on goggles. This better be a good plan.

. . .

IT WAS NOT A GOOD PLAN!!! Morty and I freak as we walk through a portal into a different dimension. Three identical bodies to our own lay mangled on the ground, blood everywhere.

“Oh, my god, Rick!” I cover my mouth in shock and fear as the metallic smell rushes into my face.

“Is that us?! W-w-w-we're dead! What is going on, Rick? I'm freaking out!” Morty cried hysterically.

“Calm down, you two!” Rick shouted but we tuned him out.

“Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t do this– I cannot, do this.” I pace around while Morty makes more noises of disgust combined with fear.

“I can't deal with this, Rick!” Morty shook his head as Rick grasped him.

“Calm down, Morty!” Rick shook him as I grabbed a trash can and promptly vomited into it. My eyes are pricked with tears at the brutality and the sickly feeling in my stomach.

“This can't be real!”

“You got to calm down, Morty.” Rick reiterates as I retch more, standing up I move over to the two.

“Rick! W-w-w-we-we’re ripped apart!” I stammer, he reaches over and grabs my head before knocking it into Morty’s. The shock shuts us up as he makes us focus on him.

“Shut up and listen to me! It's fine. Everything is fine. There's an infinite number of realities, and in a few dozen of those, I got lucky and turned everything back to normal. I just had to find one of those realities in which we also happen to all die around this time. Now we can just slip into the place of our dead selves in this reality and everything will be fine. We're not skipping a beat, twins. Now, help me with these bodies.”

“This is insane.” Morty muttered as he crouched down near ourselves. Rick hauls up his own body.

“Look, guys, I'll grab myself, you grab yourselves, okay? I mean, t-t-t-that seems fair to me I mean, that seems like a fair way to divvy it up.”

“Rick, what about the reality we left behind?” I sniffed as I walked over to my body. Her eyes were still open and bulged out like they were looking straight at me. Rick’s voice droned in my head as he spoke.

“What about the reality where Hitler cured cancer, (Y/N)? The answer is don't think about it. It's not like we can do this every week, anyways. We get three or four more of these, tops. Now, pick up your dead self and come on. Haste makes waste. I-I-I don't suppose you've considered this detail, but obviously, if I hadn't screwed up as much as I did, we'd be these guys right now, so, again, you're welcome.”

I suppressed my feelings as Morty and I followed Rick’s orders. We picked up our bodies, dragging them to the backyard. With every step, I felt not like myself, as if I was pushing my consciousness away. It was like I was a bystander, watching myself as I pulled another version of myself. As I dig the grave and push my body into it. I’m thinking of the God complex we must have as people. What of everyone in this universe? They’re the exact same, but they aren’t. Mom, Dad, Summer. They’re the same people, but not our people. We left our family in the universe we ruined. No goodbyes, or even anything to show that we’re okay– to see that they’re okay. The fact that we can do something like this… it’s abhorred. We’re going to live with this family that lost us, what gives us the right to replace them? Walking into the untouched home, I can tell Morty shares the same daze that I’m in. Our parents argue and shout at each other, but the only thing I hear is the ringing in my ears. The only thing I can truly see is my body staring up at me. Rick sits on the couch, unbothered next to a different Summer. Sitting next to her is strange. Everything’s okay now, we left that universe behind, and now, we can carry on with ourselves. Rick must be right, this is the best outcome we could get in our situation, right?

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

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As Long As We Have Each Other

Bradley Bradshaw x reader

Synopsis: After a rough day all Bradley wants to do is hold his girl and forget everything for a while but after finding out your day has been worse Bradley becomes your shoulder to cry on. Warnings: crying, hard day at work, tough boss

Thank you @callsignmaverick5 for your lovely request.

The sound of the front door shutting gently behind him caused Bradley to sigh with relief. He’d had a rough day, Hangman’s constant nagging and jests were finally getting to him and he didn’t know how he’d contain himself when he’d brought up his father. He was just glad to be home, finally being able to hold his girl and forget about everything for a while.

As the latch locked into place a sense of peace washed over him as he dropped his bag onto the wooden floor and toed off his boots. The house was silent which was unusual, you normally had some kind of music playing. He followed his normal route through the house in search of you but came back empty-handed. He noticed the French doors were open and as he stepped out into your small garden he could just make out your figure alone on the beach across the road. Bradley had always considered himself lucky to have a house so close to the beach. It was perfect for summer barbecues or late-night walks, surfing and sunbathing. He watched your figure sit motionlessly, staring out into the ocean. He slipped on his flip-flops that he always left handy by the back door and made his way out, crossing the quiet road and heading towards you. He was glad he’d changed before leaving work because the last time he wore his flight suit to the beach after work Hangman had come along and with the help of Coyote had thrown him into the sea. It had taken ages to clean and dry it and Bradley was convinced he was still finding sand in the cockpit for months afterwards. When he reached the other side of the road he could see that your shoulders were shaking slightly and you were bent forward. You were crying. Bradley hurried over to you quickly but trying not to startle you. “Baby? What’s wrong?” You jumped a little, looking up at Bradley with red, tear-stained cheeks. You sniffed helplessly and Bradley took a seat beside you in the sand, pulling you close to his chest and cradling your head. You could hear the light thumping of his heart and you felt a small sense of relief. Whenever you felt anxious or worried just the sound of Bradley’s heartbeat could ground you.

“Darling, what happened?” Bradley asked, trying to coax you gently away from his body so he could look into your eyes. He hated seeing you upset, if he could he would take all your pain away and never let you hurt again but Bradley couldn’t do that so he tried to shield you as much as he could.

“Just something a work,” you mumbled, trying to turn your head away from him but he was having none of it. Taking your face in his large palms, he turned you back to face him. “What happened?”

You sniffled again, trying to compose yourself before you spoke. “Just Cyclone being harsh about my flying again. He said I'm being too safe but when I fly like my dad he said I'm too dangerous.” Bradley sighed, looking at your tear-stained face. “I don’t know what to do, Brad. I just want to be a good pilot and I have to work twice as hard as anyone else because I’m a woman.” You could see the look on Bradley’s face and you regretted what you’d said. Of course, he’d had a difficult time after your father had pulled his papers and he couldn’t attend the academy like his father. “Brad, I did mean…”

“No you do have to work hard to be where you are and I understand but Baby you're an incredible pilot so don’t fly cautiously like me or recklessly like Mav. Fly like you.” You looked at him confused and he chuckled as you crinkled your nose.

“What I mean is don’t try to be like anyone else, I want you to be you. Hell, that's why I fell in love with you.” You could help but smile up at the man you loved. The sun was setting casting a golden glow over his soft cheeks, his blonde moustache shining in the light as he gave you a bright smile. “You are too good for me, Brad.” You leant up, pressing your lips gently to his. His moustache tickled your upper lip but you didn’t care, moving to sit in your boyfriend's lap, placing your palms against his chest.

“I think that’s the other way around, Baby.” Bradley pulled you in for another kiss, this time less needy but still full of love. “As long as we have each other we don’t need anyone else.” He whispered into your hair. Cradled in Bradley’s arms you let your fears of the day wash away from you as you enjoyed his embrace. As the sun set on another day on North Island it took with it all your doubts and fears of being an aviator. You were a good pilot, a great one even and as long as Bradley beloved in you that’s all that mattered.

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradshaw drabble #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #top gun maverick

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pluckyredhead · 7 months

Text

Character Profile: Connor Hawke (Green Arrow II)

It's time to meet another member of the Lost Titans! The most beautiful boy in the world: Connor Hawke!

Connor is the oldest biological child of Oliver Queen and the second Green Arrow. He was introduced in 1994, possibly the best year for blorbos of all time, although readers didn't know that he was Ollie's son right away.

(His mother, we would eventually learn, is Sandra "Moonday" Hawke, who had a brief, no strings relationship with Ollie during their hippie days. Moonday has a Black father and a Korean mother, and is charmingly flaky with a shitty abusive new husband, the arms dealer Milo Armitage, who Connor butted heads with repeatedly in his solo series.)

At the time, Ollie was smack dab in the middle of a nervous breakdown, as well as injured (Connor helped patch him up, hence the line about seeing him naked). He'd taken refuge in a Buddhist ashram where he'd once found peace.

At the time, Connor was about 18 and had been at the ashram for five years. He was a big Green Arrow fanboy and the two quickly bonded. He was also an aspiring archer, although his archery was just okay, while his hand-to-hand combat was superb. (In the 90s, Connor was ranked as the fifth best martial artist in the DCU, which means he's better than Nightwing. (The top four are probably Lady Shiva, Richard Dragon, Bronze Tiger, and Batman. Cass Cain didn't exist yet.))

When assassins came to the ashram to kill Ollie, Ollie and his ex-CIA frenemy Eddie Fyers fled. Connor insisted on coming with them. Eddie guessed the truth about Connor, but Ollie was still in the dark until Hal Jordan, in the middle of his own Parallax-induced breakdown, showed up out of nowhere and asked Ollie to introduce him to his son.

Ollie...didn't handle the news well.

Ollie's nervous breakdown only escalated from here on out, and he eventually wound up dying in a helicopter explosion (though he did go out a hero, saving all of Metropolis). Connor decided that though Oliver Queen had disappointed him, the world could still use a Green Arrow - and maybe if he walked in his father's shoes for a bit, he could try to understand him a little bit better.

Connor spent about five years as the only Green Arrow, traveling the world with Eddie as a curmudgeonly mentor figure. He quickly made a few superhero friends, most notably Tim Drake and of course the new Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner:

Kyle 100% STOLE THIS MOVE FROM ROY and that will always be funny to me.

Connor was briefly on the JLA before deciding (much like his father had before him) that he felt more effective and comfortable on the ground, helping individuals rather than fighting cosmic horrors. Eventually, the GA book was canceled and Connor decided to return to the ashram, trying to find what he was searching for by looking within, rather than by cosplaying as his dad.

In 2001, Ollie returned. Connor basically magically sensed that his father was back and in danger, and raced off to help him fight demons. Ollie, for his part, gave up his chance at staying at peace in Heaven in order to save Connor's life. Once the demons were defeated, Ollie seriously committed himself to getting to know his son and making up for lost time. They moved into a house together in Star City, along with Mia Dearden, a teenage former sex worker Ollie had taken under his wing. Connor and Mia quickly became very close.

There were a couple of major Connor-related developments early on in this run: first, Connor was shot in the head by the supervillain Onomatopoeia, though he survived thanks to quick emergency services and a blood transfusion from Ollie. And second, it was revealed that Ollie had always known about Connor, had been there for his birth, and just lied to everyone when he said he didn't have a kid. I hate this retcon, which to me makes Ollie's behavior irredeemably horrible - not just to Connor, but to Dinah and Roy, too. Brad Meltzer isn't the greatest writer when it comes to paying attention to past continuity, characterization, or, uh, logic. But my rant about how Archer's Quest sucks is a separate post. Anyway just know I will never acknowledge this retcon in a fic. I spit on it. Ptoo.

During this time, and really ever since his origin, there was speculation about Connor's sexuality. Connor is a very reserved, introverted character and was canonically a virgin when he was introduced (and still is, unless you count "sex" with a ghost where he didn't even get his pants off), and this of course stood in marked contrast to Ollie and Roy, both loud extroverted horn dogs. The fact that women were constantly throwing themselves at a blatantly uninterested Connor didn't help:

Ollie, Roy, and Kyle all flat-out asked Connor if was gay, which at the time he always denied, but he also explained to Roy that he was looking for The One, which I just love, because so was Roy, just in a different way! Everyone always says that Connor is so different from Ollie and Roy, and they're not wrong, but that's something they absolutely have in common: they are all hopeless romantics.

Connor's life was pretty good immediately after Ollie's return (getting shot in the head notwithstanding), but no writer really seemed to know what to do with him. There was an attempt to give him a spotlight again in the Connor Hawke: Dragon's Blood miniseries, which is...fine, I guess? Connor is forced to kill a supervillain who is trying to turn into a dragon and destroy the world. Also he makes out with Shado, the woman who raped Ollie in the early 90s, which is...certainly a thing that happened. (Connor wasn't going to be gay on Chuck Dixon's watch, nosirree!) (And actually I think the whole Shado issue is extremely complicated but there's no denying that the Shado/Connor kiss was really, really off. But my Shado rant is yet another post!) There's some interesting character stuff there but overall the miniseries has been mostly forgotten.

In the second half of the 2000s, things got shitty for Connor, just like they did for basically every character. First, he was shot with a bullet laced with a toxin that left him in a coma:

God Cliff Chiang draws him so beautifully.

Anyway, Connor was just sort of...left in the coma for a while. Eventually he was kidnapped and Ollie had to rescue him. There's a long stretch where Connor's body is just sort of used as a prop without any actual personhood involved, which is...really, really not a great way to use a BIPOC character? Oof.

When Connor finally woke up from the coma, he a) had amnesia, b) had a healing factor because of spliced in DNA from Plastic Man???, c) none of his old personality or character traits anymore (he had no archery prowess, was no longer a vegetarian, etc.). He then wandered off to find himself. Again: I love that Ollie came back, but aggressively sidelining Connor in Ollie's stories and/or only allowing him to be a victim for Ollie to save or a wise prop to serve Ollie and Mia's stories, then writing him off by putting him in a coma, then literally having him leave the book, was NOT GREAT.

Connor returned for Blackest Night and its aftermath, when he was like "Hey Dad, I have my memory back for no reason now, and also? I hate you."

Then the New 52 happened and Connor stopped existing. But don't worry! The ensuing years brought us not one but three riffs on the character who were all entirely white! (The New 52 Earth-Two version of Connor who looks like Roy, the Injustice "Connor Queen" who is the biological son of Ollie and Dinah, and Oliver's kid on Arrow and yes I know Connor Hawke is a separate character on that show but it was still a very bad look.)

Connor finally returned to us in 2021 as one of Damian's competitors during the assassin tournament on Lazarus Island. The two quickly bonded, and Damian was one of the first people Connor came out to as asexual (FINALLY):

Currently, Connor is appearing in Green Arrow as his family tries to find a way to be together and locate all of their missing members. It hasn't really been explained where he was or how he ended up in the clutches of the League of Shadows on Lazarus Island, and might never be explained. He also hasn't reunited with Ollie yet, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing it (and someday Kyle maybe please?).

In conclusion: I love Connor very, very much, he deserves better than what he got for the past 15 years or so, and I'm very happy he's back in comics and allowed to actually be queer, connected to his Korean heritage, making friends outside of Ollie's sphere, etc. Mazel tov, baby.

#connor hawke #green arrow #character profiles #meta #the lost titans

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nitewrighter · 2 years

Text

Cindy Part 12

As always, for previous chapters, please refer to the masterpost.

Posting this because the epilogue got too honkin’ big!! Have some ‘Meet the Parents!’

---

Cinderella’s arrival at the castle is very quiet. Like, mostly, everyone is aware how volatile a situation like, “Hey whoever fits this shoe is going to marry the prince” is. So it’s like… 4 gardeners, 3 maids, and the butler see an absolutely filthy girl sleepily slump out of the royal carriage with the prince supporting her in her descent, and they carry about their business. If there’s an announcement, they’ll hear about it later. This is just a perfectly normal instance of some weirdly dirty rando showing up the castle in the company of the captain of the royal guard, the royal valet, and an almost-equally dirty footman who is certainly not the prince in disguise, no sir! Still, a royal messenger is discreetly sent to the king and queen, and they both hurry to the foyer just in time to catch the prince and the supposed shoe-fitter quietly trying to make their way through. In their company is, of course, Gabe the Valet and Guard Captain Brad.

“Chaz?” The queen calls out.

Both the prince and Cindy look up.

“Oh—Mom, Dad, this is Cindy. Cindy, these are my parents.”

“Hi,” Cinderella gives a small wave, “I mean—” she’s been a little thrown off by the whole ‘these are my parents’ thing and remembers this is the literal fucking king and queen and she quickly curtsies, “Your majesties.” She stands up straight again and brushes her hands down her skirts, sending a dusting of ash onto the palace floor. “I—um—“ she stuffs her hand into a fold in her skirts—oh it’s a pocket—and pulls out the slipper, “I have the shoe. The other shoe.”

“Ah,” the queen blinks and she gives a glance over towards the king, who like, he’s not upset, but you can definitely kind of hear the laptop fans whirring on him seeing this girl. Like… Is that a rat? On her head?

“Darling,” the queen places a hand the king’s shoulder, “Do say something.”

“Right—” the word stumbles out of the king, “So… the shoe fits then?”

“The shoe fits,” the Prince says.

“Here—I can—” Cindy slings an arm around the prince’s shoulders as she stubs her heel out of the shoe and puts the slipper on again, once again extending her leg, though this time it’s less of a toe-pointed ‘ta-daaaa’ gesture and more of a foot-flexed can-can kick.

“I… see,” the King says slowly.

“You can try it on other feet if you need to,” Cindy pipes up.

“Seeing as the other shoe…” Gabe starts and isn’t really sure how to finish that sentence.

“You know what?” The queen clasps her hands together in front of herself, “I know this whole slipper search has been an ordeal, so we’ll have some apartments made up for—for our most distinguished guest, and you can tell us all about it once you’re a bit more…settled.”

“Just so, Dearest,” the King agrees, desperately thankful for an opportunity to compose himself a bit more but now eying the old-as-balls dog sitting on its haunches just behind Cindy.

“You will have my report on the events that transpired surrounding the shoe, sire,” Gabe dutifully places his hand over his heart.

“And my debriefing as well, your majesties,” Brad bows from the hips.

“Good—good…” the king says blankly.

—-

So that night, both the king and the queen are in bed, and the king is wearing a fancy, kingly little nightcap and the queen is reading in bed next to him.

“I’m glad he found her,” the king says firmly, as if trying just as hard to convince himself as he is the queen.

“Mm-hmm,” the Queen turns a page.

“And she seems very nice and it’s clear he’s quite taken with her and—and you know him! He’s odd! He’s picky!”

“Mm-hmm,” the queen nods.

“But the state of them both—”

“Darling, they hardly looked any worse than we did when we first met,” the queen glances up from her book to lovingly brush her thumb over his sideburns.

“Well that was different! When we met, they were asking me which finger I would prefer they cut off to send to my parents, and that was—” he catches himself, “My god, you don’t think he found her in such a state?”

The queen thinks for a few moments. “No… no, I don’t think so. But there is a lot we don’t know about the situation.”

“I know, I know—there’s the reports and the debriefs—and I’ll be doing my own research as well.”

“Oh I know you will. That’s where Chaz gets it, you know,” the queen kisses the king on the temple.

“Mm,” the king responds.

“That’s an ‘I’m turning off the light’ kiss,” says the queen, turning off the lamp next to the bed.

“Mm,” the king murmurs again.

There’s the soft settling of pillows and sheets as the queen snuggles in for the night.

“…the rats are a bit of a hard-sell,” the king says after a few long beats.

“The rats are a little weird,” the queen concedes.

——

“I don’t think they like me.”

It’s late in the afternoon and early in the evening the next day. Cinderella is fidgeting with her fingers as she and the prince are walking through the garden. She’s wearing one of her nicer Frankenstein gowns, still too nervous to take any of the beautiful dresses in the wardrobe within her apartments. The prince just watched her plant the hazelnut she took from her family estate in a bare, quiet patch of the royal gardens.

“They’ll like you! They will! Just… things need a bit more time to get settled, that’s all,” the prince is holding Chauncey’s leash. This dog is old as balls so they’re both stuck walking very, very slowly, “Everything came together so fast…” he trails off briefly. “And.. I have a lot of questions, but I don’t know how to ask them, and I don’t know if asking them will undo everything—”

“What do you mean ‘Undo everything?’”

“Well… there’s the shoe. I know the shoe isn’t a normal shoe because I wanted to have glassmakers create a hundred replicas of it to expedite the shoe-fitting process but they couldn’t come up with any consistent measurements or fittings and—”

Cinderella pressed a single finger to his lips then, quieting him.

“It’s not a normal shoe,” she confirms, “But… I’m not really in a position to tell you more about it. All I can tell you is that the shoes, the dress, the carriage, everything, were lended to me by a very dear friend, and I had to give them back at midnight. And I’m not in a position to discuss this friend’s identity or resources—only that… they were acting out of a kindness that… is very rare in the world, and even if they’re a little snippy, they mean the best. Do you understand that?”

Her finger still pressed to his lips, the prince nods.

“But also, like you, I’m scared of kicking a hornet’s nest I can’t really see, so… I’m just going to take the good. And you’re the good. And I just hope I’m the good, too.” She withdraws her finger from his lips.

“You are,” he says quietly. He glances off for a second. "I—look, I should say this—about the ‘intended bride’ thing…” they pause under the willow near the reflecting pool that the prince threw himself into a few days earlier. There’s a little bench there and Chauncey takes the opportunity of this slight pause to lower his bad dog hips to the ground and lay down. “I—” the prince glances down and looks at her, “You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to do the thing. The marriage thing,” the prince offers a hand to Cindy so that she can sit down on the stone bench beneath the willow, “I mean, you can if you want, but I know it’s a lot. I know they’re a lot. And I know I’m a lot. And—“

“You’re not a lot.”

“I’m not?”

“You know, you seemed a lot more cocky at the ball.”

“I was a jerk at the ball. Everyone was… pulling out all the stops for me, doing all this stuff, and it wasn’t even about me, it was about their families! Their livelihoods! But all I could think about was how uncomfortable I was and…”

“Well you’re not livestock!” Cindy throws her hands up.

“I mean, yeah but—“ the prince’s jaw tenses, “Just… it was nice that there was someone who… didn’t see me as… that? For just a little while? But that’s not how things are, and it’s not fair to pull you into things just because I like you—I mean, I really like you—but it seems like you care about lots of things so—”

“I’m not the same person you thought I was at the ball either!” Cindy blurts out, “I do care, I do, I’m just… I’m scared, all the time. I’m horribly, awfully scared that everything’s going to collapse on me at every second, and I cry a frankly unreasonable amount, and—and—the only reason why I acted the way I did was… I figured everyone would forget about me… Like they’ve always done.” She blinks a few times and it kind of hits her that she actually hadn’t thought that much about the impact she would have on people after the ball—that her initial concern was about being recognized.

“How could anyone ever forget you?” The question comes out of the prince, incredulous, as he bends to look at her. Literally every staff member or guest at the ball remembered her for some good deed or kind word or the impossible speed with which she could scarf down celeriac tarte tatin. He’s almost looking for an indicator that that was a joke, but he studies Cindy’s face for a few seconds and he realizes that no, it’s not a joke. His eyes flick downward. “Cindy?” He says, not making eye contact.

“Yes?”

“Everything I’ve gone through these past few days to find you has been… the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I know that’s stupid—I know it’s nothing because you and everyone else is working so hard all the time while I’ve been off… fucking reading! Or horseback riding! Why am I better with horses than people? They’re the most fucking paranoid animals on the planet!”

“It’s not nothing—” Cindy starts.

“But I’d do it all over and over and over again a thousand times over or however many times it takes if it meant making sure you have a home with people who love you and value you.” The prince has been bent over the bench, but now his back is starting to hurt, so he drops down to one knee to maintain eye contact with her.

“Is.. is that here?” Cinderella’s voice is brittle.

“If you want it to be,” the prince glances off, “This… was also supposed to be a conversation where I give you an out. In case.. I don’t know… you have way cooler things going on. There’s so much I still don’t know about you, so much I want to ask but I’m… honestly scared to ask.”

“I know,” Cindy interlaces her fingers in her lap, “But… I don’t know how much I can tell you about it right now without sounding completely mad or without making things very complicated for the friend who helped me. But as soon as I can—if I can—I will. I promise. And—and I don’t have anything cooler going on. I do want to stay here. Very much so.”

“I mean, of course you could still stay at the palace—like… just… as an advisor. I can deal with it. I can be cool about it. I swear. But like, I mean as far as official titled jobs go, I think… you’re.. really… well… qualified for um. For the whole ‘princess consort’ thing?”

“So you’re giving me an out but this is also… a proposal…” Cindy says slowly.

“Well, yeah if you want to get really intense about it—” the prince huffs a little then realizes he’s on one knee, “I mean… Yes. Yes it is.”

Cindy snorts hard.

The prince presses his lips together. “I mean there are people out there— I can see that now—I… I can be with people, and I can be okay—”

“Prince—” Cindy starts.

“And I know that sounds stupid and completely removed and selfish of me, but… you’re the person who really made me see that. I mean, also people made me see that because that’s the whole point—”

“Prince…” Cindy starts, a bit more softly and affectionately this time.

“And I really do like all your ideas! I really think we can hammer some stuff out that can make things so much better for—”

“Prince!” Cindy suddenly cups his face in her hands.

“Yes?” His cheeks are a little smushed with the gesture.

“I get it,” Cindy smiles.

“Oh. Good. That’s good,” says the prince. A pause passes. “Is this a ‘Yes?’”

“Yeah, it’s a yes.”

The prince’s hand comes up and clasps around one of hers, still on his cheek, holding it tight to him. He squints his eyes shut for a few moments, just feeling the warmth of it. He seems to catch himself and his eyes flick open,

“In case it wasn’t already abundantly clear, I’m not nearly as cool as I was at the ball,” the Prince is staring into her eyes.

“Neither am I,” she says before kissing him.

——

The king has been poring over numerous documents pertaining to the estate where the prince’s soot-covered partner emerged from as the queen looks out the window with a chilled glass of white wine in her hand. She’s watching the whole ‘whoops-it’s-a-proposal’ unfold in the garden below, and like—this is really nice wine that you do want to take your time with (Is it new? When did they get wine this nice??)—but she does take a slightly larger gulp at seeing her precious baby boy who is just as deranged as his father get down on one knee to a girl who was covered in soot and rats just yesterday. Like, yes, she knows she and the king had their own very unique situation, but it’s like, there’s you, and then there’s your kid, you know? You want things to be better for your kid and you don’t really know what this whole deal is yet so she’s counting on the King’s nerd ass to figure this mess out.

She glances back at the King who is still flipping through different documents at his desk alongside Gabe.

“Well?” The word comes out of the queen a bit thick. It’s not clear if the king heard her. “Darling?” She turns away from the window.

“Mm?” The king blinks several times as if breaking out of a trance.

“What were you able to find?” The queen clarifies.

“Oh…” and the king seems to get distant for a few seconds, “Do you remember a Lord Ashcroft?”

The queen thinks for a second. “Oh!” She says after a beat, “It’s been a very long time but—yes. Charming fellow. Hammered out some amazing textiles deal with the east a long while back, didn’t he?”

“Yes! And we sent him that bottle of port when his daughter was born!” The king perks up with the memory.

“Oh yes—such an adorable, chubby little girl—and of course Chaz was fussing and miserable throughout the whole christening—” the queen’s face drops, “Oh god—don’t tell me that’s—”

“It’s… her,” and that distant look settles back on the king’s face.

“But surely she would have been announced at the ball!” The queen briskly approaches the king’s desk, “Her father—”

“Died,” the word comes out of the king as a flinch, “When she was 12. Only a few months after he remarried.”

Something dark flickers over the queen’s face and the King blurts out, “Appendicitis! Appendicitis! The doctors ruled it as appendicitis! And grief, probably? Heart and gut.. couldn’t take it…”

“Grief,” the queen repeats, unconvinced.

“Dearest—”

“I know—I know…” the queen lets out a shaking exhale and then does this calming, pincer-like gesture with her fingers with another steadying breath, “Just… instincts and cultural differences…”

“I know,” the king touches her arm.

“So this… remarriage…” the queen starts hesitantly.

“Well… on paper it seems respectable enough—but then there’s fact that they didn’t even pay for an obituary—for Lord Ashcroft! I would say that’s a bit suspect. And I had Gabe look into some expense records registered for that estate with the local merchants and bankers… all these heirlooms sold immediately after his death compared to the actual costs of the funeral… I suppose we all grieve in our own way, and its difficult keeping the things of a lost loved one around after they’ve gone but one would think they’d at least keep the some of the objects on here for his daughter’s sake—”

“But as a young girl, she wouldn’t have a say in it,” the queen’s voice is brittle.

“Not with the stepmother being the acting executor of the estate…” the king rubs his brow, “Granted, there’s still a lot we don’t know."

“Chaz said the poor girl was locked in a basement. I don’t think we need to extend a lot of the benefit of the doubt here, darling,” the queen’s voice is terrifyingly icy.

“There were murmurings at the ball about that family as well…” the king muses.

“I need to talk to her,” the queen says firmly, “This situation requires a woman’s touch.”

The king kind of gives her a look then.

“What?”

“Are you saying ‘This requires a woman’s touch’ as in you’re going to kill someone or—”

“No! No, of course not! Probably not!”

“Probably—?”

“I can be sensitive! I’m sensitive!”

“Of course, dearest.”

——

Cinderella’s been at the palace for a few days now. Honestly between the tour of the grounds and the ins and outs of her own proper quartering and getting to know the staff, it’s all been a bit of a blur.

“You can come in, dear,” the Queen is squeezing some lemon into her own tea before leaning back in her seat.

Cindy edges into the room. She’s been scrubbed head to toe and has been laced into maybe the first new, not-made-by-herself, not-made-of-magic dress she’s ever worn since she was 12.

“…would you like to sit down?”

Cinderella shuffles over to the couch and sits down a bit stiffly.

“Here,” the queen pours another cup of tea, “Sugar? Cream? Lemon? Honey?”

Cinderella’s eyes flick across the tea set like it’s a bomb she needs to defuse.

“No wrong answers,” the queen settles back into her seat.

Cinderella gingerly spoons a little bit of honey into her tea and the smallest splash of cream. The queen watches her hands, the scuffs on the knuckles, the brittle nails clipped to the quick, before Cinderella raises the teacup to her mouth and sips.

“It’s delicious, thank you.”

“Mm,” the queen nods, and there’s a few beats of silence.

“It’s… it’s an honor to be here,” Cinderella says, forcing herself to make eye-contact, “I—I promise I’ll learn everything I can to be a good princess consort. I’ll read more, and—um—I know I’ve been throwing the servants off, but I really am used to making my own bed! It’s not because I don’t think they can do it, it’s just… I’ll figure things out. I promise. I—“

“It’s all right. Breathe, dear,” The queen is refilling her own teacup, squeezing more lemon. “Do you know the story of how the King and I married?”

And Cinderella blanches for a second like ‘Oh shit I didn’t know there was going to be a quiz.’ She really doesn’t know how the king and the queen came together. She’s read what she could, and she’s decently smart because her stepsisters would sometimes make her do the homework that their tutor gave them and she would be forced to learn what they hadn’t been bothered to paid attention to in one fourth of the time, but these were mostly subjects tailored to the running of a house and the cultural refinement of a lady, like etiquette, poetry, a little bit of law, and some arithmetic with a focus on finance and expenses. History and science? Not so much. But the queen is just swirling her tea in its cup, not quite looking at her.

“The royal historians downplayed a lot of the… ugliness that came before it,” the queen says, and Cindy eases up in her seat a bit thinking ‘oh thank god it was a rhetorical question.’

“You see…” the Queen gently sets her teacup and saucer down on the table and primly folds her hands in her lap, “The country I grew up in—that is, technically, it wasn’t quite a country as I was growing up—but it was… oh, how to put this politely? A flaming death pit full of murderous power-hungry petty tyrants all with delusions of grandeur and no care as to how many soldier and peasant lives they needed to ruin or end to gain one more acre of land.”

Cinderella blinks at that, and doesn’t really know how to respond to it so she just sips her tea while maintaining eye contact.

“I grew up the daughter of one of these petty tyrants, then as a political hostage, to secure my father’s alliance with a neighboring lord,” the queen’s gaze has trailed to the window, now, “And then my father and brothers were killed, in one of many stupid, pointless battles, for this bridge or that mountain pass or some other such nonsense…From there I saw two clear paths laid out for me: Either my foster-lord would have me killed so he could snatch up my father’s lands, or, more likely and far less pleasant, he’d marry me to one of his brutish sons who were at least twice my age to, again, secure my father’s lands. I was lucky enough to have a handful of retainers from my father’s house to help smuggle me back to my own family estate where I could regroup and see of my own forces and resources but…” she sighed, “From there…It all kind of blurs, to be honest. A part of me became just as merciless as everyone I fought against, but at the same time I hated them so much, so I hated me so much—I couldn’t bear the thought of just… becoming one more of them. And looking among the people that were my responsibility to protect…” she trailed off, “I wanted a better life for me. For them. For all of us. But I didn’t know what that looked like. I was terribly stubborn about the idea of marriage, you understand. I imagined myself having some… passionate torrid affair with some battle-scarred Samson, and then naming whatever bastard came of that my heir to continue the fight when I inevitably died in one more stupid battle for this bridge or that mountain pass.”

Cinderella is kind of thrown off by the bastard thing, like ‘You can do that? That’s allowed?’ But then Cindy has the reasonable assumption that probably no one told the queen she couldn’t do that, and if she had done it, no one would really try to tell her after the fact.

"But then I met the king,” the queen goes on, “He was just a prince himself, then. The poor fool was traveling through our lands as part of some… diplomatic mission when he was captured by one of my remaining enemies. I didn’t even know he was in that keep, I was just… there to take down one more scourge. And I took them out right before I found him.” Her eyes get a little distant then. “I must have looked monstrous the first time he saw me…” she’s quiet for a few beats, then she seems to catch herself and she smiles a little, "Once I found out who he was, I more or less bullied him into our match. I was of high enough birth, after all. I thought he was so agreeable because he was afraid. But… I soon came to learn that there are many different kinds of bravery. Which… brings me to my point, dear,” the queen leans forward from her own seat, “Between what I saw of the king, and what I saw of my own people… I know what it means to have to be brave far longer than anyone should have to be. Something happens in the eyes…” the queen extends a hand and Cinderella unconsciously shrinks back in her own seat. Cindy’s mouth opens to apologize on reflex, but the queen is drawing her own hand back, fingers curling in. “What… I want to tell you is that… we want this place to be a home for you. I know what it feels like when your home… isn’t your home. When what remains of your family—” she catches herself again. “I’m sorry. I’m overstepping. This all must be so much on its own—“

“It’s— it’s fine—“ Cinderella is still tense in her seat, “It’s—it wasn’t nearly as bad as you think it is—I—I was never in a war—”

“It doesn’t have to be a war,” the queen says gently.

“Well, yes, but my stepsisters calling me stupid and ugly and saying I smelled bad all the time isn’t a war—”

“They called you stupid and ugly and told you that you smelled bad all the time?”

“But I did smell bad because I was cleaning out the chicken coops or the stable, or shoveling from the compost heap, or hauling laundry around, or because I had smoke pouring over me from the hearth and I got ugly muscles in my legs from going up and down the stairs all day—”

“They were making you do all that and they weren’t helping?”

“But that isn’t a war!”

“But you’re afraid of them,” the queen says softly and Cinderella flinches at the word ‘afraid.’ “Even now, even here, you’re afraid they can still make you hurt like all the times they hurt you before.”

“I—I—” CInderella stammers.

“Am I scaring you now?” The queen asks, not accusing, but genuinely concerned.

Cinderella’s knuckles are white around the handle of her little teacup. She’s gone deer-in-the-headlights again.

“It’s so hard to turn off…” the queen says softly, and Cindy isn’t sure if she’s talking to her or to herself. “And when you can turn it off you just feel so silly for thinking that way, but then something happens and it comes back all the worse…”

Cinderella’s half-come out of what would be called ‘tharn’ in Watership Down enough to sip her tea a little bit. The teacup rattles a bit in its saucer as she sets it down.

The queen gestures at the little tiered cookie trays. “Um… macaron?”

Cindy takes one and munches it down in barely a bite and a half, eager for the gap in conversation chewing affords her.

The queen huffs and slumps back in her seat. “Chaz was right about you. One really does feel like they can tell you anything and you don’t know if you’ve made a fool of yourself until after you’ve said it.”

“Is that… good?” Cinderella is picking up her teacup again.

“I think it’s good,” the queen says, taking a cookie herself and taking a bite out of it, “People are cynical, you know. It means a lot to inspire that kind of confidence. You managed to make quite the impression on a number of the palace staff the first night you came here.”

“Because I crashed the party…”

“Because you were kind. And helping seemed to be your first instinct about, well, anything. So this is what I’m saying—with regard to.. your previous living conditions, regardless of the abuse put upon you, there is only a limited degree to which the crown can respond. But I can assure you we will find every means we can to—”

“I don’t want to punish them,” Cindy blurts out, tense in her seat.

The queen’s gaze flicks up to her.

“What they did to me…” Cindy starts, but then stops and glances off, “I don’t think hurting them further than how they already are will help. I don’t know what will help them. But all I know is that I don’t want them anywhere near me. And I don’t think they need to hurt to know that.”

“…exile, then?” The queen munches a macaron and Cindy blanches.

“No,” Cinderella says quietly, “That doesn’t feel right either.”

“Well… we have a whole library and dozens of legal experts at your disposal, dear,” the queen smiles, “I trust you to be a far more merciful person than I’ve ever been.”

Cindy stills in her seat, full deer-in-the-headlights mode.

“…that’s good,” the queen says, reaching forward and putting a hand on Cinderella’s knee.

“Oh!” Cinderella eases up, “Th-thank you.”

And so, over the next few days and with much discussion with many royal lawyers, the first restraining order was invented. Granted, if you look up legal history as we know it, the modern restraining order popped up in like, the 1970’s, which is… really fucked up and you’d think it would pop up sooner. But also people are terrible so it makes sense that it would take that long. But we’ll just assume this was kind of like the whole ‘sometimes people act like Don Quijote was the first novel and not Lady Murasaki’s Tale of the Genji just because Don Quijote saw wider distribution,” and also an instance where something was so unusual for its time we wouldn’t really see its implementation until a long-ass time later situation. And also I made up the country they’re all in so fuck it. They invented restraining orders. Which is what Cindy deserves.

Oh god. like, I would hate being in the presence of the stepfam in any situation, but what I wouldn’t give to be in the room when the royal messenger shows up at the stepmother’s doorstep. Like the stepmother would totally think she’s receiving a ‘guest of honor’ invitation for the royal wedding despite the Prince’s absolutely harrowing look at her, and she’s like ‘Finally that little rat of a girl is proving herself useful.’ And there’s the royal messenger on the doorstep like, “Good afternoon ma’am, I have the distinct honor of issuing to you this royal decree that you and your daughters are not to come within 800 paces of the Princess Consort-to-be. As well as this fruit basket.” (The palace had never issued a restraining order before and as such wasn’t really sure the proper means of delivering it, and the fruit basket was Cindy’s idea so that they might ‘part on good terms.’ Cindy’s never issued a restraining order before either, and she also has a very inflated opinion of the power of gifts and fine food, so go easy on her.)

“…I suppose… the seating for the wedding will accommodate?” The stepmother says a bit blankly.

“Oh—Madam, unfortunately, I have no invitation for this household. But! You will observe that this fruit basket does indeed have a pineapple! So let that be a symbol of the crown extending all the hospitality it can extend in line with this decree.”

“Ah. Yes. A… a pineapple,” the stepmother says, blinking several times.

“Oh, yes, and also this sack of gold to cover any additional medical expenses with regard to the…” the palace messenger clears his throat, “Toe incident.” The messenger unceremoniously plops a roughly coconut-sized sack of gold onto the fruit basket. “Ladies,” he says, tipping his hat before leaving.

The stepmother snatches the gold sack up right quick but then she and the stepsisters are stuck staring at this pineapple for three days in utter befuddlement. Both the pineapple and the gold are enough to take their minds off of the increasingly large groups of starlings gathering in the hazel tree on the side of the house… for a while at least.

#love at first sight exists #but only in the sense that I consider that part of skyrim where you watch farkas turn into a werewolf 'love at first sight'#POV: You've been taken captive and you watch the hunter from Bloodborne carve a bloody path through your captors #like how can your brain NOT go 'wife' in that context???#what I'm saying is... Queen--it is fine he was absolutely INTO IT #cinderella #'also we've just tanked your entire social future but here's a pineapple byeeeeee'#Common sense: Hey you know you probably could make the epilogue one big chapter if you left out the queen's backstory #me: NO FUCK YOU I'M KEEPING IT

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lilyrizzy · 1 year

Note

From my own cloud: Daniel on the phone struggling to articulate the issues they're having (before anything is ever public)!

Sorry mate this is kinda different than what you asked for but it ran away with me... Hope you like it anyway! Thank you to @catofthecanals289 for helping me with the ending, ly girl

Cw: implied past trauma but like everything is so vague, nothing specific!

Calling home has always been like pressing on a bruise. One already turned yellow-green at the edges, the pain long gone and replaced with a dull ache. A reminder of hurt more than the real thing.

Outside on their balcony, the November night is colder than the temperatures Daniel usually subjects himself to, but inside Max is sleeping. Picturing his mum as her tinny voice chatters away in his ear, it's easy. Halfway across the world, sunny's on and feet up, his dad lighting the barbecue in the yard. Both of them warm, the way he hopes Max is too, buried in their bedsheets.

"How's Izzy, how's Isaac?" Daniel asks, running through all the obligatory questions. He's not uninterested in the answers, just- It's more that the answers never change. "How's Michelle? Dad?"

Everyone is fine, fine, fine, fine according to his mum, and everyone is more 'worried about you Danny'. Her questions are always the same as well. Is he eating enough, is he sleeping enough? Did he see the photo Michelle posted on 'the cloud thing,' and didn't Daniel think it was cute?

Except-

"Are you really not coming home for Christmas?"

The bluntness shouldn't startle him, not after years of living with Max, of more spent growing up with his mum.

You'd like each other, he thinks not for the first time, if you really got to know each other.

He kind of wants that more than anything. To explain Max in a way that would make her love him too, but he knows the eyes through which she sees Max are different to Daniel's in a way that's impossible to resolve.

If he knew how to, he'd explain that Max can drag a laugh out from the belly of him in a way that no one else can. Most of the time without even meaning to. That he's honest in a way that is very rarely cruel, and so when he does come out with some cutting remark you know it's deserved. That when he first moved Jimmy and Sassy into Daniel's apartment, he slept belly-down on the floor in front of the sofa which Sassy hid underneath, hand holding a battered felt mouse out to her, so she will know of course, that this is home now.

That Daniel maybe thinks he knows what love, deep fucking life-changing love is because of Max.

"Yeah mum, I'm really not coming home for Christmas," he says instead because he also knows what it's like to listen to someone- Michael usually- wax poetic about their partner and think can't you just get to the fucking point already, mate.

There's a disapproving pause that Daniel uses to consider how dirty the grout between the tiles of their balcony is. To contemplate how and where he could hire a jet wash from, so Max doesn't have to do his workouts with Brad an inch away from what he is increasingly worrying might be black mould.

"I don't think it's very healthy, Daniel," she says evenly, and it's showtime if his full name is being used. "The two of you alone in you're apartment, no family, no-"

"Mum," he interrupts, the words muffled around the nail bed he's chewing on, "Max asked me to stay, I'm staying. It's not really up for like, discussion."

"Sweetheart, we just- Issac and Izzy were so excited to have you home."

He laughs, not mean or anything it's just- Funny.

"Come on," he tries, aiming for lighthearted but no doubt missing the mark enough to have him flaming out and into the boards, "you can't plead with me to leave good old bachelor Ric behind me and then throw a wobbler you guys are no longer number one."

"Can't you bring him home with you?" She tries stubbornly as ever, and Jesus what is that saying about men marrying people that are like their mothers?

"No," he says, shaking his head though she can see it. "Mum, please- He asked me for this. Don't try to make me feel guilty for giving it to him."

"He should think about what you want too, honey," she rounds, and it's a close call to Daniel throwing his phone off the balcony and into the sea, but- It's not fair. It's not her fault.

After all, there are other things he can't explain. How Max still flinches sometimes when Daniel reaches for him in bed, then says sorry so quickly in a miserable-sounding voice, it's like he believes he's running out of chances. Like he's not the fucking, heart line on Daniel's palm, the artery pumping his blood, or whatever else the shitty love songs on the radio talk about.

"He does mum, he-"

Rubber screeches against glass as the door behind him slides open, and before Daniel has even turned all the way around Max is saying his name like a question. Stood in the doorway in Daniel's too-big merch, he would look like every one of Daniel's romantic dreamings come to life if not for the tightness of his jaw, and the height of his shoulders.

"Hey baby," he says, voice softer than anything he's been using so far on the phone. He tries not to cringe. "Just talking to mama, is everything-"

"Can you come back to bed?" Max interrupts a little desperate sounding. Shifting from one foot to the other, he won't quite meet Daniel's eye. Instead, they focus on a spot behind Daniel, the shine of the inky sea in the moonlight most likely.

Daniel doesn't hesitate. He knows what Max's nightmares look like. Wishes he could siphon them from Max's brain into his own, one less hurt for Max to feel, one more way to know him better.

"Mama, I gotta go," he says, and he can hear her protests even as he presses the button to end the call.

In Daniel's arms, Max presses his face to the hollow of his throat, lips catching against the stubble there as he says, "sorry." Then, "I woke up and I wanted you here."

It's not always like that. Some nights, he wakes up from sweating and writhing and Daniel knows not to touch.

Now, he kisses Max's forehead, leads him back to bed and tells him the same as always.

"I'm always here, Maxy. Promise."

#i need like those email sign offs 'sent from my iphone'#expecpt it's like 'written on my samsung flip phone' lol #basically don't judge it too harshly pls and thank you<3 #my own cloud #fic #max/daniel #except** omg this is why i shouldnt be allowed to write w/o grammarly

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irtifuck · 10 months

Text

🤠♥🐓

Rooster: Dad, this is my boyfriend, Jake Seresin. 😊

Maverick: Sit down. 🤨

Hangman: Thank you. 😏

Maverick: So, what do you do in your spare time? 🤔

Hangman: I'm on the football team. 😎

Maverick: How are you gonna take him out without a car? 😒

Hangman: I've borrowed my mother's. 🤩

Maverick: Are you a good driver? 🙄

Hangman: I'm good, Mr. Mitchell. I'm very good. 🤪

Rooster: pokes Hangman 😳

Hangman: I think you gotta drive defensive, just like football. 😉

Maverick, remembering Iceman: Gotta imagine everybody's a danger, coming straight at you. 🧐

Hangman, whispering: Not so straight, sir. 🙃

Rooster: coughs uncontrollably

Hangman: I'll tell you something, Mr. Mitchell. I promise… I'll drive careful and get him home by 12:00.

Maverick: Are you guys sleepin' together yet?

Hangman: coughs uncontrollably this time

Evan: I'm goin' to bed. Goodnight.

Maverick: Well, I don't want you guys doin' it in cars, especially my car.

Rooster: Wow, dad, wait, no!

Maverick: I'd rather know where you are. I'd rather you were sleepin' together under my roof. I tell you what. Call your mother and tell her you're sleeping over. You can take a taxi with Brad and Evan to the college in the mornin'.

Hangman: Sir, yes, sir.

Rooster: I mean, for God's sake.

Maverick: I don't give a shit. You were gonna do it anyway. I let you do it right. You are using condoms?

Rooster: smashes a pillow to his face

Reference: A movie made in 1998, "A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries"; a really enjoyable movie if you didn't see it already, featuring Leelee Sobieski from Tom Cruise's movie. U_U

#q #hangster #sereshaw #icemav #top gun incorrect quotes #incorrect top gun quotes #incorrect quotations #incorrect quotes #evan kazansky mitchell #austin butler #tom cruise #miles teller #glen powell #hangman #maverick #rooster

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roosterscockpit · 2 years

Text

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x reader P. 27

click here to see the master list

Hi, lovelies! In the last chapter, Leia was shipping us with our good ole buddy Austin, he also was totally hiding some feelings for Phoenix, Leia was calling daddy Brad, Bradley, and Bradley is MIA again. What more can we take? I hope you’re enjoying the story! Thank you for being here! I love you all! 💕 Happy reading and enjoy! ❤️

A/n: With all the chaos that's been happening, you and your friends spend some quality time with Leia. She learns a thing or two in this chapter 😘

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: cursing, sexual jokes, sadness, annoyance, jealousy, awkwardness, nudity, some hitting, but as always a whole lotta LOVE 🫶🏼

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You all made it outside and sat around the fire pit making s’mores. The girls were sitting together on the patio sofa and the guys on the two single chairs. Bri got up and went and sat on Billy’s lap.

Bri waved over to Austin, “Go sit with your girls, Austin. I’m fine in this seat.” She gave Billy a kiss on his cheek. She laughed and pointed over to you and Leia.

She looked at you and mouthed, “You’re welcome!” And put a thumbs up.

You rolled your eyes and motioned for Austin to come to sit with you and Leia. He sat next to Leia and put his arm around her. “You cold, sweetheart?” She nodded. He started to rub her arm. “Let me help you make the best s’more of your life.” He leaned forward to grab a skewer and put a marshmallow on it. He gave her the skewer to hold. He wrapped his arm around her and put his hands on hers and guided her closer to the fire. “Now you just hold it here, until it's brown.” The marshmallow caught fire and Leia screamed.

Leia’s eyes went big, “NOOO! Austin! It’s on fire!!” She was panicking. “it’s going to taste gross like Auntie Bri’s chicken!”

Bri stared into space blankly. Everyone started to laugh. Billy was laughing the hardest. She turned to him slowly. She was upset.

“What babe? It was a little burnt…” he shrugged his shoulders. “I mean I still ate it.”

You all continued to laugh. Austin went back to the s’more, “Sweetheart it's okay.” He was laughing as he tried multiple times to bring it close to his lips to blow it out. He started to build the s’more with Leia, “There now you put some chocolate on a graham cracker, put the marshmallow on it, and then smash it with another cracker.” He handed it to her. “Try it, sweetheart.” He smiled at her.

Leia took a bite and her eyes lit up, “Oh it's so good! Thank you, Austin!” She took another bite, “The next one has to have more chocolate! I love chocolate!”

You nodded and started to prep a marshmallow on your skewer. “She definitely gets that from her dad.”

“Momma, there is no such thing as too much chocolate!” Leia angrily bit her s’more.

You looked at her with narrow eyes, “There is if you want to keep your teeth from rotting.” You smiled deviously at her.

Leia gasped and covered her mouth, “It’s okay. These are baby teeth anyways, momma.”

You all made more s’mores and ate them together. Austin helped Leia make another one with extra chocolate. Leia took a bite and sunk into the sofa. She closed her eyes as she ate her s’more. She was really taking in the taste of it.

She propped herself onto her knees and wrapped her arms around Austin's neck. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, “I love you, Austin.”

He smiled and patted her arms, “I love you too, Little Lei.”

“It looks like I came at a bad time.” Bradley was standing in the sliding doorway holding a pilot bear for Leia. He was still in his flight suit. Once again, pealed down halfway and tied it around his waist. His black undershirt tight around his strong thick body.

He slid the screen door open and Leia squealed.

“HIIIIII!”

She ran with her arms open with a huge smile on her face. Bradley squatted down as his daughter jumped into his arms. She kissed him all over his face. “I missed you!! I thought you would never come!!” She gave him more kisses. He handed her the teddy bear and she squealed again, “This is for me!?” He kissed Leia’s cheek and then picked her up. (You know like the scene where Goose was reunited with Bradley and Carole and he Kissed Bradley and picked him up. *sobs*)

“Yes it’s for you baby, I missed you so much. Daddy’s been super busy at work. I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you.” He gave her a bunch of playful bite kisses on her cheek. “But I was just dying to see you, sweetheart.” He put her down.

You looked at Austin shocked, “What the hell did you send him, Austin?”

He smiled and shrugged, “Oh nothing, Darlin.” He laughed and ate his s’more.

Bradley came over and greeted you, “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed you. He went to go greet Billy with a handshake and placed a kiss on Bri’s head. He came to Austin and stuck his hand out, “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You kicked Bradley’s leg and looked at him annoyed. He looked at you, “ow!”

Austin stood up and shook Bradley’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Lieutenant.” He smiled at Bradley.

Bradley bowed his head slightly and placed his hand free hand onto his chest, “Please, call me Bradley.”

Austin laughed a little and nodded slowly, “Bradley. I’m Austin.”

Bradley looked him up and down. “Austin, nice to meet you.”

Austin went to go back to his original seat. He looked at you and smiled. He shook his head and laughed quietly.

Billy scoffed and leaned into Bri, “This cockatiel isn’t freaking serious, is he?” He said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bri slapped Billy’s arm, “What!?” Billy threw his arms out with confusion. “Big bird is being weird, babe!”

Bradley sat next to you and threw his arm over your shoulder. “Hey, baby.” He said seductively and in a low tone. He winked at you and bit his lip slowly.

You looked at him slack-jawed, “Bradley Bradshaw, what has gotten into you.” You poked your cheek with your tongue and shook your head slowly.

He furrowed his brows and scoffed, “What are you talking about? I’m just happy to see my girls?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You need to go and shower, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You smell like a sweaty cock. pit.” You said the last word slowly and emphasized it as if it were two words.

He looked at your lips and licked his, “All right mama, I’ll go shower. Don’t want to be smelling like a sweaty cock, don't we?” He pecked your lips and went into the house.

As he made his way to the sliding door he looked over at Austin, “It was great meeting you.” He make a clicking noise and winked at him.

Austin had his fingers loosely interlocked together, elbows resting on the armrests, and his index fingers against his chin. He smirked at him and bowed his head slightly, “You as well, Bradley.”

Bradley passed the threshold and entered the house.

You buried your face into your hands. “My goodness.”

You looked up and saw that Bri was looking at you befuddled. “What the hell was that?”

Billy took a bite of his s’more, “Well that was fucking awkward. Sorry Austin, the bird guy is kind of weird bro.” He shook his head.

You just closed your eyes. “I have no damn clue. Austin, I’m so sorry for the hostility. I have no idea what’s gotten into that man.”

He laughed, “No need, y/n.” You opened your eyes and looked at him and he winked at you. “Completely fine, Darlin.” He took a bite of a s’more and leaned back in his chair.

You all started to make s’mores and you excused yourself. You guided Leia to sit with Austin. She started to show her bear to him.

You made your way inside and to your room. You swung the door open to a butt-naked Bradley.

“Bradley, what the-” The door hit the wall and there he was, butt ass naked and wet. “OH MY GOD!” You put your hand up to hide his naked exposed private parts, “BRADLEY NICOLAS BRADSHAW. HOLY CRAP!” You looked away still holding your hand up.

He threw his hands up, “Y/n, do you mind closing the door? I’m feeling a draft.”

You closed the door and still keeping your hand up, “Why are you butt-ass naked in here? And you’re dripping all over my floor!”

He rested his hands on his hips, “Sweetheart, you act as if you’ve never seen me naked. Please put your hand down. You’re being childish.”

You put your hand down and looked at him. You tried your hardest to not let your eyes roam. You look him straight in the face, “Where is your towel? God, what if someone else walked in here and not me?”

“You look so uncomfortable, you can look if you like the view, honey.” He laughed. “Why would anyone else come in here? What? Do you let Austin just come in your room?”

You scoffed, “Are you being serious, Bradshaw?” You shook your head in annoyance. “Your daughter could have come in here and would have been face to ass with your ass!”

He laughed, “My poor girl.” He went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He came back out and wrapped it around his waist. “Is that better, sweetheart? I really thought you would have been happier with it off. Y’know with all that cock talk you had out there.” he raised his brows and chuckled.

You sat on your bed and pinched the bridge of your nose, “Bradley, what the hell was that out there?” You mocked him, “I’m Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You looked at him annoyed.

“That’s how I introduce myself to everyone, babe.” He rested his hands on his hips again narrowing his eyes at you.

“You didn’t introduce yourself that way to Leia.” You were blank-faced and rested your chin on your fist.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, “Leia isn’t everyone y/n.”

You shook your head and patted the spot next to you on the bed. “I need you to tell me the truth, Bradley. Why did you act that way to Austin? Please just be honest with me.”

He sat down and held his breath. He blinked a couple of times and let out his breath, “Hearing your daughter tell another guy that she loves him before she says it to you doesn’t exactly make you happy.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “I got really jealous. She hasn’t even acknowledged me as her dad yet.” He bit his lip and hung his head.

You draped your arm over his shoulder and placed your other hand on his cheek. “You know she loves you, Bradley. Don’t think that way. Just give her some time. Just like you, Leia is adjusting too.”

He looked at you, “But how long has he been in your life? What is he to you? What is he to Leia? Does she call him dad?” He was hurting.

You placed a kiss on his wet forehead, “Bradley, Austin has not been in my nor Leia’s life long. To me, he is a caring and loving friend. I’m not going to lie to you, there were some feelings between us, but I don’t want to be with him. I love you. He has been there for me and I don’t want to ruin what he and I have, he’s a great friend. He knows everything about you and I can tell you everything about him. To Leia, that’s her best friend outside of her Auntie Bri, Uncle Billy, you, and I. He’s always here to help her, play with her, and watch her when Bri and I need a little time.”

You pushed his wet curls from his forehead, “And she absolutely does not call him her dad, he has just done a lot for her, and I know she appreciates the time he spends with her. It’s someone new. You have to remember, she was only around Bri, Billy, and me for a long time.”

He looked at you and nodded, “I get it, sweetheart. Austin is your Phoenix. I just don’t want to lose you.”

You placed a kiss on his lips, “Yes, Austin is my Phoenix.” You kissed his lips again, “I’m not going anywhere, bird boy.” You smiled reassuringly at Bradley.

He smiled back at you and kissed your hand, “I love you so much, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I love you, Bradley. But, if you love me as much as you say you do, you will go say sorry to Austin and be nice.” You poked him in the chest.

He raised a brow at you, “What will I get in return, beautiful?”

You shook your head, “Maybe, I’ll let you stay with me tonight.” You winked at him.

“Deal, I just need to put clothes on.” He stood up and looked around. “Yea… I uh, actually don’t have any y/n.”

You stood up and walked to the door, “I guess you can go home then, Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You saluted him and walked out the door.

“Shit.” He looked around and grabbed one of your big shirts and loose-fitting oversized sweats. He put them on and looked in the mirror.

“Holy fuck I look like the Hulk.” He shook his head. “The things I do for you y/n.” He started to walk, “God if I do something as little as breathe I’m gonna tear through these clothes.” He walked to the sliding door and opened it slowly making sure not to bust a seam.

Leia, who was sitting on Austin’s lap, looked over at her dad and started to laugh super loud. She pointed at him, “Why are you wearing momma’s clothes!”

You turned to see him practically stiff as a board, “Lord forgive me.” You bit your lip trying to hold in your laugh. “This is freaking gold.”

Bri looked over and huffed out a sigh, “Oh my god.” She palmed her face.

Billy leaned back in his seat, “Damn Bradshaw, what the hell? Where did all that come from?”

Bri looked at Billy, “I told you he was significantly bigger than you. He can crush you with a finger.”

Billy covered his eyes, “I am just going to act like you didn’t say he was significantly bigger than me.”

“You know how I meant it! You’re such a child.” Bri scoffed.

Bradley came out and stood before Austin, “Hey man, I just want to apologize for being an ass earlier. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Austin held Leia and stood up, “Hey man, it's really no problem. No need to apologize. We are all good.” He shook Bradley’s hand.

“No, I really need to apologize, man. It was uncalled for-”

Austin waved him off and laughed, “Seriously, we are good.” He patted his shoulder. “I totally get it, Bradley.”

Bradley nodded and pressed his lips into a line, “Okay, yea. Good. Good. I’m glad we are good. But uh, now if you will all excuse me, I feel a rash forming on my balls from the tight-ass pants.” He walks slowly back into the house.

Leia looked at Austin, “Austin what are balls? And why are they getting a rash?” Leia asked Austin bluntly confused.

Billy bursted into laughter. Austin was puzzled, “Um, I think you should ask your dad that, sweetheart.” He patted her belly.

Austin looked at you, nodded, and mouthed, “Thank you.”

You nodded and mouthed back, “You’re Welcome.”

Austin carried Leia over to you and sat with you again. He leaned into you, “Y/n. You didn’t have to do that. He was just being a protective guy.”

“No, Lieutenant Bradshaw was being an ass.” You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“Does that guy realize that you two were together? Or does he even know?” Billy called over to you and Austin.

“Together?” Austin jerked his head back confused, “Us? Y/n and I? Together?” His eyes shifted between you and Billy.

“I’ve already told him our past, Austin.” You looked over at him and patted his shoulder.

“You did what!?” He sat back against the sofa, “You said we were together, y/n?”

“No just feelings. But I didn’t want any more than to be your friend.”

Austin put his hand on his eyes.

“Ouch, Aus. Fucking kick to the balls.” Billy laughed at Austin.

Austin wiped his hand down his face and looked at Billy, “I already knew we were just friends. I didn’t mind. I love y/n and Leia too much to potentially ruin what we have.” He straightened out his back and set Leia on the sofa next to him. “I am going to go talk to Bradley. Clear some more air. I don’t need to get beat up.”

He looked at Leia and winked at her, “Help me make some s’mores for you dad, to soften him up.”

She started t clap excitedly as she grabbed for the marshmallows. Austin grabbed her head and kissed her hair. “Maybe your extra chocolate ones will help me out.”

Leia started to roast the marshmallows. Austin wrapped his arm around her and helped her bring them into the fire so she wouldn’t hurt herself. He kissed her temple, “Thank you for helping, Darlin.”

Austin started to assemble to s’mores. Leia roasted one last marshmallow. She wanted to try and do it on her own. You watched her closely. “Okay, baby I think it’s been in there long enough.” You put your hand on the skewer to pull it back.

Leia held it in the fire, “No momma, a little longer!” She smiled and her eyes were wide.

Austin looked over and pointed at the roasting marshmallow, “Sweetheart it's about to” Then the marshmallow fell off the skewer into the fire. “…fall off.”

Leia looked disappointed. She stood up and looked at the fire. She took the skewer and started to stab at the fire. You pulled Leia back and Austin snatched the skewer.

“Woah there, sweetheart! What are you doing?” Austin put his hand on Leia’s chest.

She pouted in your arms. She crossed her arms and looked mad. “The stupid fire melted my marshmallow!” She huffed, “I wanted it back.”

You laughed, “We can get a new one, babe. That one is long gone!”

She pouted louder, “But I want that one! It looked so good!”

Bri laughed, “Baby! That one was burnt to a crisp!”

Leia looked at her angrily, “Like your chicken!” She pointed and laughed at Bri.

Bri leaned back against Billy and waved off Leia. Everyone laughed at her again.

“You walked yourself into that one, Bri.” Austin cried out as he laughed. He gave Leia a high-five.

“You are definitely sassy like your dad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not a jealous daddy 😭 but I really feel he had the right to feel the way he did. What do you think? I’ll see you in the next part, babes! 🫶🏼

The tag list is in the comments! I hope it helps somewhat with the tagging issue! 😭

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desert-fern · 11 months

Note

Hi, lovely! Congrats on the milestone! 🎉 I was wondering if I could request a Dad!Bradley mood board with all the sweet and domestic vibes? 🥰

- @bradshawsbaby 💕

What do you mean I can’t put him in a mini Hawaiian shirt?

@bradshawsbaby Dad!Brad for your liking? I get the feeling that this man would be so thrilled to be a father, like ugh! Thank you so much for your request!

#fern’s 300 celebration #moodboard celebration #dad brad

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dragonydreams · 1 month

Text

Title: I'm Marchin' on to the Beat I Drum Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audiences and Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz Summary: Buck wants to be the one to tell Christopher about his new relationship. Timeline: post 7x04 Word Count: 1,235 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Century Fox Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachiefor looking this over for me. Author's Note 1: This came to me while on the acupuncture table today. Hello muse! I've missed you. Author's Note 2: Title from This is Me from The Greatest Showman

Read on AO3

Buck and Tommy stood on the Diaz doorstep after having just rung the doorbell. He didn't want to use his key because he had Tommy with him and that might be weird letting them both into Eddie's house.

"You're sure you're okay with me telling him?" Buck asked nervously, not for the first time.

Tommy took Buck's hand and squeezed it once, firmly. "He's practically your kid, it should come from you."

Buck's heart sped up briefly. How'd he get so lucky as to find a man who understood his relationship with Christopher so easily and wasn't threatened by it?

Before he could thank Tommy, again, the door swung open to reveal a beaming Eddie. "You're here. Come on in."

He stood back to let the other men in before closing the door behind them.

"In the kitchen?" Tommy asked, holding up a 12-pack of beer.

"I've got it," Eddie said, taking the case from Tommy. "Go ahead and get settled. Tip off in five."

"Chris in his room?" Buck asked Eddie's retreating back.

"You know it," Eddie confirmed.

Tommy kissed Buck's cheek. "Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it," he replied.

As Tommy headed left for the living room couch, Buck turned right and knocked on Christopher's open door. Christopher looked up from his homework and grinned.

"Hi, Buck," he exclaimed. "Did I hear Tommy, too?"

"You did," Buck said. "He's out there with your dad. They're gonna watch the basketball game."

"You don't want to watch?" Christopher asked.

"Not especially. Basketball's not really my thing," Buck said.

"You don't need to tell me that," Christopher said. "I saw my dad after that game you joined a couple weeks ago."

Buck brought his hand up to his chest and staggered back dramatically. "Well, you don't pull your punches."

Christopher laughed at his antics. Then he sobered, taking in Buck's once again nervous expression.

He cocked his head to the side, sighed, and asked, "What do you want to talk to me about?"

Buck fully entered the room and moved to sit on Christopher's bed. "That obvious, huh?"

"Uh huh," Christopher nodded, turning in his chair to face him.

"You like Tommy, right?" Buck asked.

"Not as much as you, if that's what you're worried about," Christopher said, side-eyeing Buck.

Buck laughed. "That's good to know, but not what I meant."

"I mean, yeah, he's a cool guy. My dad has been a lot happier since they started doing all these things he hasn't done in a long time."

"Tommy and I have been spending a lot of time together, too," Buck said. "In fact, he and I are dating."

Christopher narrowed his eyes at Buck. "Like… kissing?"

"What do you know about kissing? Have you been kissing anyone?" Buck asked, startled by the direct question.

"Oh, my god, Buck! No!" Christopher practically shouted. "Ew."

"Just making sure," Buck said, laughing. "But, uh, yeah. Yes. There is kissing. Are you okay with that?"

Christopher shrugged. "Kissing is gross, but if you like it, then…whatever."

"Do you have any questions about me kissing another man?" Buck asked.

Christopher rolled his eyes in that way that only teenagers can. "I know all about people being gay, or bi, or pan. Dad and I talked about that when I was just a kid." He scrutinized Buck's face. "Which are you?"

"I'm going with bi," Buck said, proudly. Christopher nodded his head as if in agreement. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Does this mean you or Tommy are going to start kissing my dad? Because you're not supposed to kiss more than one person at a time. You told me that."

"I don't think I said anything about you and kissing, but you're right, you should only date one person at a time, unless everyone agrees it's okay. And that is a topic for another time."

"So are you?"

"No, because Tommy and I are dating each other and only want to kiss each other. Besides, your dad is dating Marisol."

"I don't think he is, anymore, but that makes sense."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because he's happier with you and Tommy than I've ever seen him be with someone he's dating," Christopher observed.

"Well, if your dad likes men, that's something he needs to figure out and reveal on his own. Just like I didn't know I wanted to kiss a man until Tommy kissed me."

"And you liked it?"

"I really liked it," Buck said, grinning.

"Then good for you," Christopher concluded. "I'm glad you're happy, Buck."

"Thanks, Christopher," Buck said.

"Can I get back to my homework now? Dad said I can't play games with my friends online until it's done."

"Have at it," Buck said, getting up. "Thanks for listening."

Christopher just waved him off.

~~*~~

After the game got started, Eddie nervously glanced back towards Christopher's room.

"How do you think it's going in there?" he asked.

"I'm sure it's fine," Tommy said. "You seem almost as nervous as Buck."

"I just know how important this is for Buck. How important you are to him," Eddie said. Granted, it had taken him a minute to get used to the idea when Buck came out to him last week, but Buck was his best friend and he would support him no matter what.

"You've raised a good kid. I'm sure Christopher will understand."

As if on cue, they heard Christopher practically shout, "Oh, my god, Buck! No! Ew."

Both Eddie and Tommy were on their feet instantly, but when they heard Buck's laughter, they sat back down.

"I'm sure it was nothing," Eddie said, his voice not very convincing.

"That could have been about anything," Tommy said, doubtfully.

They watched the game in silence, drinking their beers, ears strained to try to hear more of the conversation in the other room.

~~*~~

Buck dropped into the open space on the couch between Eddie and Tommy and dramatically dropped his head on Tommy's shoulder.

"Went that well?" Tommy asked, bringing his arm up around Buck's shoulders and carding his fingers through Buck's hair.

"It actually went better than I thought," Buck admitted.

"What was he shouting about?" Eddie asked. "He had us worried."

"Oh, that." Buck giggled. "I asked him if he was kissing anyone after saying that Tommy and I kiss. You heard his answer to that question."

Eddie slumped back on the couch with relief. "Gracias a dios," he sighed. "I am not ready to think about him kissing anyone."

Buck thought about mentioning that Christopher asked if Eddie would be kissing himself or Tommy anytime soon, but if his observations of his dad were right and Eddie was more like him than he thought, that was for him to figure out in his own time. Why complicate matters when he was happy with Tommy?

"I'm gonna need a beer if you're going to make me watch basketball," Buck said, slapping his thighs as he stood. "You guys good?"

"I could take another," Eddie said.

"Me too," Tommy agreed, holding up his nearly empty bottle.

"Three beers coming right up," Buck said. He quickly retrieved them from the kitchen before settling back on the couch, leaning against Tommy, who curled his arm around Buck as soon as he was settled.

Buck was with two of his favorite men in the world, his kid just down the hall, and he couldn't be happier.

The End

#911 fic #bucktommy #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #Fic: I'm Marchin' on to the Beat I Drum

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samaraannhan20 · 1 year

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Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw Imagine: Drunk Sailors

Warnings: agegap(around 11 years, I’m making Bradley a little younger than he would be in TG:M), anxiety, depression, non-sexual nudity

“Hey, barkeep!” I hear someone shout from the other end of the bar. “Where’s my drink?” I just ignore him because I am currently helping someone else, and he never actually ordered anything. Just walked into the bar already drunk. “I asked where my drink was!” he yelled again, and I turn towards him, grabbing a random bottle of beer. “Here you go sir,” I say, handing it to him. “This isn’t what I wanted!” “I’m sorry. What can I get for you?” “Nothing you bitch. I’ll drink this until the next waitress gets here. She’ll know what I want. She’ll actually know how to do her job,” he says, angrily, and then stalks off. I look around the bar, see no one there, and then sink down to the floor behind the bar, wrapping my arms around myself and quietly crying. I notice my co-worker come around the back of the bar and look down at me. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, squatting down to eye level. “Um nothing new. Just another drunk guy yelling at me. That guy out there called me a bitch and said I don’t know how to do my job because he was yelling at me without actually telling me his order, so I just gave him a random beer,” I tell him, and hear him scoff, before he gives me a pat on my shoulder and stands up, quickly walking in the direction I assume the drunk guy is. “Hey! You!” I hear him shout, but I don’t move. “Get out! You don’t walk in drunk and then treat the bartender like that! Get out!” he shouts again, his voice getting smaller as they shoo the guy out of the bar. “Hey, Pen,” he shouts when they get close again, “can you come out here?” I hear my mom vaguely reply, before he walks away and it gets a little quiet again. Before long I hear my mom’s voice. “Y/N, where are you?” my mom, Penny Benjamin, asks as she walks behind the bar, only to find me sitting on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees, tears in my eyes. “Why don’t you head on home? You opened today, and Tara will be here for her shift soon. You go on home, go see Bradley.” “He’s not back with Dad yet. They went out this morning for training and haven’t come back yet. Besides, I’m fine,” I say, and then sigh heavily and lift myself off the ground. “I just need a second and I’ll be ready to face another customer.” “Honey,” my mom quietly says before pulling me into a hug. “It’s okay. You leaving early doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means there have been at least three drunk old men who yelled at you today, plus however many from yesterday, the day before, and so on and so forth. You haven’t had a day off in two weeks. Go home.” “Are you sure? I can at least wait until Tara gets he-” I abruptly stop because my mom slapped her hand over my mouth. “Go. Home. To your apartment. Out with Bradley. Anywhere but here, or my house. I don’t care. Just go. Take a few days. I’ve got it here. You need a break,” she finishes, before kissing me on the forehead and shoving me out from behind the bar. “Thanks, Mom,” I say, before turning to go to the office to grab my stuff. When I enter the office I take a second to sink down in the chair and open the drawer that mom hides the scotch in, and pull the bottle out. I take a swig, and then set the bottle down. “Ew. I don’t even like scotch,” I say to no one but myself, and then pull out my phone to check and see if Bradley has texted me since he got to work this morning. Brads🥰🐔 Hey hun, I’m on my way to the Hard Deck with your dad, he asked me to drop him off. See you there. Sent 20 minutes ago I read the message again and then look at the time, before grabbing my bag and running out of the office, turning the corner and running smack dab into someone. “Sweetheart, move a little slower,” I hear my dad say as he catches me. “Sorry Dad. Did Brads leave?” I say as I give him a quick hug before pulling away, and frantically looking around. “No, he’s talking to your mom. I came to find you because your mom told me about what happened. Your mom is sending you home early because some customer yelled at you?” he says, looking at me as though he is willing to hurt anyone who dared yell at me. “I’m fine, Dad,” I reply, already over this conversation. “I’m used to it. Drunk dudes, especially sailors, tend to be mean whenever they have to wait for something. They have just been especially mean the last week, and I hit my limit today. Mom found me crying on the floor behind the bar,” I say, quickly, and with a slight shrug of my shoulders as I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I’m gonna go find Bradley, see if he’ll take me home. Love you pops.” “I love you too, kid,” he replies before leaning down and kissing the top of my head, and turning towards the office. “What are you going to the office for?” I ask with a small chuckle. “Oh, I told your mom I would finish filing the paperwork she left out.” I just nod in response and turn back towards the bar area, focusing back on finding Bradley. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket as I step into the main area, but before I can pull it out, I hear him call my name. “Y/N! There you are,” Bradley says as he walks over to me. “Yeah, sorry I was hiding in the office. Did you talk to mom?” I ask him, looking up and tucking my hair behind my ear again. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here before some other drunk dude says something and I have to punch him,” he says, leans down and kisses me on the forehead, wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side, leading me towards the front door. “Bye honey!” I hear my mom shout from somewhere behind me. Bradley lifts his hand in a wave as I shout back, not even bothering to try to turn and see where she is. When we get outside Bradley opens the door to the Bronco for me and helps me in, before shutting the door and walking over to his side. He climbs in and starts the car, and then leaning over me to grab my seatbelt. I make no motion to help, because he does this every time we get in any car, and it just makes me feel incredibly safe and loved, so I stopped fighting it after our third date. Before he leans back into his own seat, he grabs my chin and pulls me in for a kiss. I laugh and we both smile into the kiss, and then he pulls back and puts his own seatbelt on. He turns out of the parking lot and places his hand on my thigh, and I zone out tracing the veins on his hand as he drives. “... you want to go?” he asks me, and I snap back to reality. “Um, well I thought we were just going home. Are we not doing that?” “Baby, I just asked you if you wanted to get some food before we head back to your apartment. Are you okay?” “Um. No. But yeah, let's get some food. Can we go get Chipotle?” “Yeah of course. Here, take my phone and order it ahead so we can get home quicker,” he says, and hands me his phone. I unlock it and open the Chipotle app, putting both of our orders in and closing out of the app. “Hey, can I send a snap in the Dagger Squad group chat?” I say with a small smile on my face. “Yeah of course. Nat was just telling me she missed you. Do you wanna hang out with them tonight?” he asks right as I take a selfie and send it to the squad. “Um. No, it’s been a rough couple of weeks. I just want it to be us tonight. Is that okay?” I ask, and curl up into my seat, handing him his phone back. “Sweetheart, of course that’s okay. It’ll be nice to have a night with just the two of us.” I mumble a response, and lean against the window looking out of it. When we arrive at Chipotle, Bradley leaves the car running and runs inside to get our food. When he comes back he puts it down in the backseat, hands me my drink, and then grabs his phone. I pay no attention to what he is doing, until suddenly a song I know that he never listens to, and I only listen to when I turn on my anxiety playlist, is playing through the car. I look up at him as he places his phone down and then reaches his hand over, grabs my hand, and then rests our intertwined hands on my thigh. I lean away from the window, and reach my available hand to grab his phone. “Is this my anxiety playlist?” I ask him as I grab it, quickly unlocking it to see what playlist is playing. He chuckles and nods as I look at his phone, and see that it is. I scroll through the list to find another song I would like to listen to, and he laughs as it starts to play, and we both sing along. When we pull up to our apartment, Bradley turns the car off and then gets out, grabbing the bag of food and coming around to my side of the car, just as I open my door. He holds his hand out to help me down, because the Bronco is just a bit too tall for me to casually get out of it, and the process typically ends with me falling over. We walk inside and Bradley takes the food to the kitchen while I head to the bedroom to change out of what I had worn to work. I stand in front of the closet for a second, and then ultimately decide on a pair of biker shorts and one of Bradley’s t-shirts. When I walk back into the main area of the house, Bradley has pulled a movie up on the tv, and is sitting on the couch with a beer in front of him. “I wasn’t sure if you would want one of your drinks, but I have your soda over here,” he says, turning to me as I walk in. “Okay, thanks,” I reply, walking over and joining him on the couch. “What movie did you pull up?” “Your favorite. Now, let’s eat and watch this movie,” he says, and hands me a fork, and we both sit and watch the movie and eat our dinner.

By the end of the movie I’m laying in between Bradley’s legs with my head on his chest. I stare at the television as the credits roll, just zoning out. Before I know it, I’m thinking about what happened today again, and I sit up really quickly with tears in my eyes, and walk to the bedroom before Bradley can notice. I shut the door and cross over to the bed, sliding down on the side of it until I’m sitting on the floor. I just sit there, crying, not paying attention to how long it’s been or anything else that is happening. Eventually, Bradley knocks on the door, before slowly opening it. “Honey?” he says, leaning his head in the room. He looks down and sees me on the floor, and crosses over the threshold quickly, and picks me up, sitting down on the bed with me in his lap. I start crying even more at his kindness, and I bury my face in his neck, with him rubbing my back as I cry. Slowly I stop to cry, and as I begin to move Bradley speaks up. “Honey, do you want to take a bath? I can run one for you if you want.” “Yeah, I think that would be good,” I respond with a sniff, standing up from his lap. “Okay. I’ll go run the bath, you find a nice pair of pajamas you want to sleep in,” he responds, and stands up, kissing me on the forehead as he heads out of the room to the restroom. I cross to the dresser that holds our pajamas, and grab my favorite pair, before heading out of the room towards the bathroom. When I walk in Bradley is finishing pouring bath salts and bubble bath in the tub, and stands up as I walk in. “Okay, bath is ready to go. Do you need anything?” “Um, no. Wait!” I say as he turns to leave. “What are you going to do while I’m in the bath?” “I’m going to change our sheets, because we’ve needed to for a while and what better time than when one of us is having a bad day. And then I’m going to dig your old “magic” nap blanket from whatever cabinet we have it shoved in. Then, I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Sit in here with you, wait out there until you’re done. Whatever you need,” he says, and then walks closer and pulls me into him. “Now, you enjoy your bath, and I will leave you to it. I love you,” he says, and then kisses me before pulling away and heading towards the door. “I love you,” I respond, and then sigh as he closes the door behind him. I strip down and climb into the bath, just laying there in silence, feeling the stress of the day work its way out of my body. I sink lower and lower into the bath, just relaxing.

I lose track of how much time I’ve spent in the bath when I hear a knock at the door. I mumble a “come in” and as I do so Bradley steps into the bathroom. “Hey kid. How’s it going?” he asks, squatting down by the edge of the tub, and dipping his hand below the water to rest on my knee. “It’s going well. I feel a lot better,” I say, and sit up a little in the tub. “I think I’m almost ready to get out. I don’t see any reason to keep marinating in dirty water,” I say with a little chuckle. “Okay darling. What do you want to do when you get out?” “I think I want to shower. Then watch a movie in bed,” I tell him, and grab his hand to move it so I can stand up. I carefully stand up and step out onto the bathmat. “Do you want to shower with me?” I ask him while I walk from the tub to the shower. “Do you want me to?” “Yes, I would love you to,” I tell him, and then slip into the shower and turn the water on. Before too long I hear his belt hit the floor, and the shower door opens to let him in. He reaches around me to grab the shampoo, and then pauses. “Here, turn around, I’ll wash your hair,” he tells me, and I oblige, turning so my back is to him. I hear the shampoo come out of the bottle and go into his hand, hear the lid click shut, and then feel him begin to rub the shampoo into my scalp. After he rinses the shampoo out, I turn around and wrap my arms around his waist, and bury my head in his chest, and he reciprocates the motion. “I’m really tired of having shitty days,” I mumble into his chest, and he squeezes my waist tighter. “I know. But, your mom just essentially gave you the rest of the week off, and if you take longer she won’t care.” “I know,” I mumble again, before pulling away. “Wanna go to the beach tomorrow?” I ask him with a sly smile on my face. “Of course I do. Why that look though?” “I,” I start, as I turn around to turn off the water, “may or may not have bought a new swimsuit the other day. And a new picnic basket. And maybe some stuff to make a picnic,” I finish as I wrap myself up in a towel and cross into our room to start digging around in our pajama drawer for a pair of comfortable pajamas. “A beach picnic tomorrow? Sounds good to me,” he says as he pulls on a pair of boxers and climbs into our bed. “Thank you for everything,” I quietly say as I cuddle into him after climbing into bed. “You deserve nothing less,” he says, as he wraps his arm around me and keeps me close to his side after pulling the covers up. “I should be able to handle one person yelling at me,” I whisper, beginning to let the thoughts I've been having all day come out of my mind. “Really. A normal person wouldn’t cry because one drunk guy yelled at them.” “Okay, let's entertain that thought,” he says, sitting up in the bed, not allowing me to go to bed still thinking that it was my fault. “How many days in a row this week did a drunk guy yell at you?” “Um. Maybe four. Or three. I’m not sure. They all started to blend together,” I respond, looking up at him. “And on average, how many days in a row do you think normal people are yelled at by drunks?” “Well. It depends on if they work in a bar or not. Why?” “Because, kid, it doesn’t matter that you have anxiety. That is not what caused you to cry today. What caused you to cry today, was an asshole that decided it was okay to yell at someone for no good reason. I remember exactly how many days in a row a drunk guy yelled at you, because I was there for all of them except this one, and it was five,” he says, and then pauses to pull me into him, leaving not an inch of space between the two of us. “You deserve a break. You handled yourself fine. And I am so proud of you, and shocked that you were able to make it through four days of people yelling at you. I am so proud of you, I know I already said it, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” “Bradley,” I say with tears in my eyes, and then realize that I don’t have any words to say, so I just say “I love you,” and then wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

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