#I'm an adult I want to be able to swear and talk about life and death without writing d3@th

[shitty-check-please-aus]

see this is why I can’t do tiktok, I need to be able to freely say that my immune system is going to murder my thyroid eventually, I can’t switch to “unalive” or clinical terminology

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[justabigassnerd]

Caught

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 1,626

Warnings - swearing, mostly fluff

Summary - you and Bradley had kept your relationship a secret... but what happens when Goose and Maverick find out?

A/N - it be time for another request y'all! I'm so sorry with how long it's taking me to get through these but I really am trying y'all I swear. hopefully, I'll get into a groove and be able to pump more fics out for y'all. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Growing up with Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell as your father, you’d been taught from an early age that you could tell your dad anything. He never let anything you wanted to tell him about feel unimportant. If you babbled to him after preschool about how Sarah had pushed over Tom in the playground, he was giving you his full attention and voicing his own thoughts on the matter. As you got older, you knew you could talk to your dad about any problem that would plague your mind. If someone was bothering you, Maverick would be there to listen and offer advice if you wanted it. He always made an effort to be there for you.

However, despite the trust you had in your dad. There was one thing he didn’t know about you.

Maverick was ignorant of one thing that was going on in your life and that was your relationship with his RIO’s son, Bradley Bradshaw. You’d been raised alongside Bradley, nothing more than half a year between the two of you and while Goose had constantly joked, much to Maverick’s annoyance, that you and Bradley would get together, he never thought it would actually happen. Not until the two of you moved out at least.

You and Bradley were quiet about your relationship, holding hands underneath the dinner table when over at each other’s houses and sneaking kisses when your parents were in another room. On the weekends, when Goose, Carole, and Maverick would go out for most of the day, you would either spend time at Bradley’s house or vice versa, or you would go out on little dates to places you knew neither your parents nor any of your dad’s team frequented, so you’d remain undisturbed. For the first few months of your relationship, this arrangement worked smoothly, and no one was clued into your relationship with Bradley. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to share your relationship, it was more worry about how both your dad and Goose would react to the news. Carole ended up finding out about your relationship a week before your dad and Goose did, Bradley wanted some motherly advice on relationships, and he had asked beforehand if you were okay with Carole knowing which you were fine with, with the condition she kept it quiet until you and Bradley found the best moment to tell Goose and Maverick.

The moment that your dad and Goose found out came sooner than you and Bradley would’ve liked. One weekend, your dad and Bradley’s parents had agreed to meet up at the beach with Iceman, Slider, and their significant others while you and Bradley had opted to stay behind under the guise of wanting to study together and do school work. After the adults left the house, you and Bradley waited for a minute before shoving your books aside and moving to the sofa. You immediately curled into Bradley’s side as he switched on the television, looking up at him softly as he moved his gaze to look down at you.

“You okay, baby?” He asks softly, his gentle smile never leaving his face as you nod.

“I’m more than okay. I’m perfect.” You reply in a soft whisper, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“You missed.” Bradley says teasingly, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss which you reciprocate immediately, shuffling in his embrace to kiss him easier as you wind your arms around the back of his neck and Bradley’s hands rested on your hips. However, because you were engrossed in each other’s presence with the tv blaring in the background, you both failed to hear the jangling of keys in the lock and your dad entering the house.

“What the fuck is going on here!?” The shocked and raised voice of your father makes you and Bradley jump away from each other, worry crossing both of your features.

“Dad, what are you doing home? You literally just left.” You say with a nervous chuckle, attempting to diffuse the obvious tension that was filling the room.

“I forgot my wallet and it’s a good thing I did. Now answer my question, what is going on?” Maverick asks, and the moment you open your mouth to try and find a response he holds his hand up to stop you talking.

“Actually, you can explain it to Goose and Carole as well.” He then says, crossing back to the front door and throwing it open to see his RIO and Carole in Goose’s Bronco.

“Goose, get your ass in here! Carole, you too. Looks like a Bradshaw-Mitchell meeting is needed.” Maverick calls out to his friends and waits for them to come into the house, closing the door behind them and ushering them into the living room while you and Bradley remained frozen in place like a deer in headlights.

“Mav, what’s this about? Ice will kill us if we’re late.” Goose says as he enters the living room, barely batting an eyelid at you and Bradley sat closely together while Carole offered a sympathetic smile to the two of you, knowing what you’re about to endure.

“I just caught these two kissing. Like full-on kissing.” Maverick says, an accusing finger pointing at you and Bradley as Goose’s jaw drops, eyes widening as Maverick’s words sink in.

“Wha- these two?” Goose splutters, making you bury your head in Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to escape the embarrassment.

“Hey, I need a bit of space between you two, back it up.” Maverick says, making you pull away from Bradley slightly to glare at your dad.

“Dad, are you serious?” You ask, and that’s when Carole decides that now is the time to step in.

“Boys, you two need to calm down.” Carole intervenes, getting both Maverick and Goose’s attention on her.

“But they hid this from us for who knows how long? How are you not angry?” Maverick manages to say, running a hand through his hair. At the silence that follows Maverick’s question, Goose connects the dots and turns to his wife.

“Honey, did you know about this?” Goose asks hesitantly, both Maverick and Goose watching Carole carefully as she nods.

“Bradley came to me a week ago. They wanted to tell you, but they were scared about how you would react and just from what I’ve seen their worries were proven right with the way you two have reacted.” Carole says, an accusing glare fired the men’s way as they exchange a look.

“y/n is my little girl.” Maverick weakly argues, making your face heat up at his words.

“Bradley’s my baby boy but I still want him to be happy and if he’s happy with y/n and she’s happy with him that’s all we should be focused on.” Carole says and it was Bradley’s turn to blush now, glancing down at his lap as you slip your hand into his and squeeze it softly.

“Brad, are you happy with y/n?”

“y/n/n, are you happy with Bradley?” Both questions leave Goose and Maverick’s mouths simultaneously. All eyes were on you and Bradley as you briefly glance at each other, smiling softly before looking back over at Goose and Maverick.

“Yes.”

“Yes.” The answers left your mouth in tandem as Bradley ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Goose and Maverick exchanged a look before shrugging.

“It probably was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” Maverick says, a slight chuckle escaping him as he speaks while Goose nods.

“Well I did call it, but I thought they’d at least wait a year until college so we wouldn’t have to be victim to their teenage PDA.” Goose says, receiving a soft slap on the arm from Carole at the teasing aimed at you and Bradley.

“Oh hush, you know we were just as bad. And it’s not like these two haven’t grown up seeing us kiss, honey.” Carole says, leaning up to give Goose a kiss to accentuate her point. With the tension now gone, you curl back into Bradley’s side, smiling as he presses a feather-light kiss to the top of your head.

“Just don’t break each other’s hearts.” Maverick warns gently, glancing between you and Bradley as you nod.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mav.” Bradley says, his smile never leaving his face.

“I don’t think I ever could. I love him too much.” You affirm, looking up at Bradley before giving him a soft, gentle kiss.

“Alright, we’ll leave you to it. But I don’t want to be a grandad at this age so be careful you two.” Maverick teases as you groan and toss a pillow at him, missing and narrowly avoiding hitting Goose in the process.

“See that, Bradley? Don’t piss off a Mitchell.” Goose says with a laugh as Maverick rolls his eyes and jokingly shoves him.

“We should make our way to the beach, boys. I’m sure the others are wondering where we are.” Carole says, diverting the attention and both Maverick and Goose nod as you detach yourself from Bradley to find your dad’s wallet and give it to him before he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Maverick whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you too, dad.” You reply before pulling away with a gentle smile. After pulling away from the hug, Goose, Maverick, and Carole bid you and Bradley goodbye and make their way out to the Bronco.

“When we get to the beach someone remind me that Ice now owes me twenty bucks now that we know y/n and Bradley are together.” Goose says as he turns the key and starts the engine while Maverick nods.

“Got it… wait, you made a bet?”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting through your second presentation feels like a battle of wits against your own body. Then after weeks of barely being able to stomach anything, you are presented with the most enticing dinner. But it's the food that's alluring, not your dinner mate, and Bradley has a few things to say about the mess you get yourself caught up in.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, phone sex, masturbation

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You slept like a lovesick log after your long drive back to the hotel from the cemetery. Exhausted from throwing up in the shrubs, you curled up in bed and watched the video you took for your son or daughter. You had recorded yourself reading both headstones and having a little conversation with your in-laws about the baby. It was just meant to be something you and Bradley could watch one day with the nugget, but it brought a smile to your face. 

You were decidedly no longer smiling when you woke up on Wednesday and had to race to the toilet. "Why is this happening again?" you asked the bath mat as you curled up in a ball. You had another, longer presentation to give. You had admirals to chat with. You had a whole lot to get done today. You didn't have time for this right now.

Even brushing your teeth was a chore. Changing into your uniform was an issue. At least your pants felt a little looser today. You honestly could not keep up with the way your body was bloated half the time and normal the rest of the time. 

You realized your makeup was pretty much the only thing holding your life together at the moment as you swiped on some mascara. Then there was a knock at your door, and it felt like you were doing the same thing all over again today, because essentially you were. You and Cat had to struggle with the bin of equipment. You had to fight to stay awake in the rental car. The nausea was turning  your life into a game of sheer determination to keep the bagel that you ate from coming back up. 

"Are you okay?" Cat asked you a few minutes before the presentation was about to start. 

"Of course," you told her in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. "Why wouldn't I be?" You shrugged and smiled serenely at her. 

"Because you're sweating bullets. And you've been pacing around the hallway."

You cleared your throat and insisted, "It's just really hot in here."

"It's not," she replied. "Please. I'm begging you. Just keep it together for another ninety minutes, okay? After that, you can do anything you want. Hell, I'll do anything you want me to do. But we need to get through this presentation." 

Her voice sounded panicked, and now you were looking around the hallway for a garbage can. But it was too late. The two of you were being called into the presentation room. Commander Patterson and Admiral Klein were sitting in the front row smiling at you. Shit, more admirals were here today. Oh fuck, all of these people wanted to hear your extended presentaion. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, past your shoulder blades and along your spine. You wanted Bradley. You wanted Bradley to hold you and let you throw up everywhere and tell you that you were still pretty and that he loved you even if you cried on the toilet and ate crackers while you lay on the floor. 

Tears burned your eyes, and Cat looked like she was going to scream. Pull it together. Ignore the sensation. Clip the microphone onto your shirt. Start talking. 

"Good afternoon. Lieutenant Coleman and I are back to expound upon our research presentation from Monday which covered communications engineering at Top Gun. You can find a copy of our slides in the information packet in front of you. Please hold your questions until we pause for a break. Let's get started."

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

Bradley really wasn't doing well without you at home. He was barely eating anything besides cereal and sandwiches, and he was going to bed hungry at night. The only fun he'd been having was slowly filling up that pink and blue notebook with his musings for the little nugget.

He was having a hard time sleeping, and he didn't like how quiet the house was. Even Tramp kept looking for you, occasionally running to the front door and whimpering. "We'll see her on Friday," he told the dog as he had potato chips and coffee for breakfast on Wednesday morning. "Two more days of this bullshit." 

When he got home from work on Tuesday, he broke down in tears as he looked at the photos you sent him from the cemetery. You even took a video where you were talking to him and the nugget and his parents. He still couldn't believe you took the time to drive there and make it so special for him. After he finished crying, he made his way back up to the attic where he took the half wall down to the studs. Then he realized that he really needed to call some contractors before you came home and saw the mess he made. 

While he drove to work in the red Bronco, he left messages, hoping to get some estimates in the next week or so. One thing that he'd been slowly coming to terms with was the fact that you didn't need him to take care of you by paying for everything. Both of your incomes were going toward the mortgage payments and all the necessities. You'd both been saving money for the future, and he figured the future had arrived since there was a baby on the way. 

When he parked in the garage on base, he noticed he had some new texts from you.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I miss you. I'm struggling today. I think the nugget hates me. I'll call you later after my presentation and all of this other shit is over. 

He wanted to text you back, but he didn't want to be a distraction, so he tucked his phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been reading every pregnancy article online that he could find, but none of the tricks he saw were helping you with the nausea. You were probably just going to have to wait it out. He would be ready to rub your shoulders and put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck when you got home.

Bradley walked the long way around to the classrooms since he was early and didn't need to stop in the locker room to change. When he passed the stairwell that would have taken him up to your office and the engineering labs, he swore he heard Bob's voice. He paused, and he definitely heard Bob's laugh. When the door to the stairs opened, he heard Bob say, "We can always find out later tonight if you want to invite me to your room again." And then there was a very familiar, feminine laugh before Bob appeared ten feet ahead of him.

He stared at Bob, and Bob stared back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone. Bradley thought back to the way Bob and Maria were looking a little cozy at brunch last Sunday. This was interesting.

"Hey, Bob," Bradley said with a grin. "How are you enjoying your new apartment with Maria?"

His cheeks immediately flushed pink, and Bradley bit his lip to keep quiet as Bob started stuttering. Frankly, he was proud of his friend for sounding so much more self assured a few seconds ago when he was tucked inside the stairwell with Maria. "I-I d-don't know... are y-you... I d-din't think that..."

Bradley let him flounder through a few more partial sentences before he said, "If you're hooking up with Maria Wilson, then good for you, man. Well done."

Bob cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he stared at the floor. 

"You want me to keep this information to myself?"

Bob's blue eyes went wide as they met Bradley's. "Please." He swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants anyone else to know." His voice was just a whisper as he said, "I'm sure she'd be embarrassed if people found out."

Then he turned and left Bradley standing there alone. He'd been in that position before with you. Before you made things official. And he had been miserable. "Poor Bob," he muttered as he followed him at a distance. The best case scenario would be if Maria confided in you when you got back from Annapolis. Bradley would have to be cool about you going to brunch on Sunday even though he already wanted you and the baby all to himself again all weekend.

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

You made it. Somehow you got through the full hour and a half. You nailed your parts, and so did Cat. You and she answered questions for at least an additional thirty minutes, and now she was packing up the equipment while you sent a quick text to Bickel. 

"Your research is very compelling, Lieutenant Commander."

You looked up into the eyes of Commander Patterson, and he smiled warmly at you. Unfortunately, the only thing you could really think about was the way you'd been picturing Bradley's cock the last time you talked to him. At the moment, you were so fucking horny, you felt like rubbing yourself against the wall and crying until you got some relief.

"Thank you, sir," you managed to say while you tried to focus on his face and his words. "It has really become a passion project, trying to keep actual aviators in the air versus the drone agenda. Real people making real decisions based on their surroundings and the immediate threats they are facing will always win out against a laboratory manufactured software protocol."

"I couldn't agree more." He took a step closer and said, "And the way you presented your findings made it so clear that you're eager for others to understand how important that is as well."

"Absolutely," you told him with a smile of your own. "And the funding for communications research is so important." 

You were probably going to have to go to the cocktail hour tonight just to get your face out there since you skipped the previous one to drive to Virginia. But you were almost instantly saved from having to do that as Commander Patterson said, "I'm planning on having dinner this evening with a few of the admirals if you'd like to join us. Cocktail attire. Overpriced steaks. You know, the usual." 

His slight eye roll had you laughing and agreeing immediately. That sounded a lot better than trying to ditch champagne flutes all night. You'd still be able to chat with some superiors, and right now, you were actually hungry. "That sounds great. I'll see if Lieutenant Coleman can join as well."

With that, his smile wavered a bit, but he told you the name of the restaurant, and you promised to be there at seven o'clock. Cat had all the equipment packed up, and she was ready for you to help her carry the bin. "Hey, you want to come eat an overpriced steak later? With Commander Patterson and some others?" you asked as you tried your best to lift with your legs.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I already agreed to some stupid happy hour with a handful of admirals, but I love overpriced food when you don't have to pay for it."

You laughed and said, "That's probably better. We can divide and conquer this way. Bickel will like that."

As the two of you hoisted the bin into the rental car, Cat smiled and said, "You know what else he'll like? The fact that we nailed the presentation again today. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't do it again," you told her with a smirk. Of course then you promptly started falling asleep while she drove back to the hotel, and when you got to your room, you passed out in bed until it was time to get ready for dinner. 

It was only three o'clock for Bradley, and even though you wanted to call him, you decided to wait a little longer. You inhaled a pack of peanut butter crackers while your stomach growled loudly. "What is with you today?" you asked the baby. "You're finally hungry? Or are you going to make me barf again?" You got a loud rumble in response. "I know you like Daddy better, and we'll be home in two days. Relax."

As you redid your makeup, you started thinking about Bradley. And then you thought about how delicious he smelled right after he finished a workout. And then you thought about how nice and big his cock is. And then you thought about all the sounds he makes and the way me moans your name when his cock is inside you.

"Oh hell," you whined, pressing your thighs together. You needed to get some relief with your toys until you could get back home, but you didn't have time for that right now. The combination of being so hungry and so horny was almost too much to handle, and you ended up calling Bradley on the short drive to the restaurant. It was barely four there, so you were surprised when he answered. 

"Hey, Sweetheart."

Two words. He said two fucking words, and you were moaning and having a hard time focusing to drive. "Roo. Oh my god."

"What's wrong?" he snapped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you gasped, parking the car and squeezing the steering wheel. "I'm just so horny. And Commander Patterson asked me out to dinner, and I seriously need to get fucked, Bradley. Like you have no idea how bad it is right now."

You could hear him mutter something, and then you thought you heard Jake's voice before Bradley quietly said, "Baby Girl, I'll fuck the absolute shit out of you all weekend. In fact, I can't wait to do that. I'll take care of everything you need."

"Daddy," you moaned, realizing you should have masturbated instead of taking that nap.

"But please tell me who the fuck Commander Patterson is. All I know is that you said he's that guy who asked if Top Gun aviation is the right fit for you?" Another moan escaped your lips as you thought about being a tight fit for your husband. "Yeah, you sound wrecked, Sweetheart," he crooned in that raspy voice. "I don't think you should go to dinner with some guy I don't know. I don't care what his rank is.

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not just with him. Some admirals are coming too. I need to meet the admirals, Bradley. And I'm already at the restaurant." When you looked further up the block, you saw Patterson heading inside.

Bradley made a frustrated sound. "Text me when you can? And call me when you're leaving later?"

"I will," you promised as your stomach growled. You were so excited that the nugget seemed to want to eat this steak, you almost hung up before you said, "I love you."

You straightened out your black cocktail dress as you practically ran down the sidewalk in your high heels which you rarely ever wore except in your bedroom with your husband. The delicious smells from the restaurant were wafting out onto the sidewalk, and you were going to cry if there wasn't some bread or something already waiting on the table. 

"There you are, Lieutenant Commander." 

Patterson was waiting inside the entryway where at least the sound of the air conditioner blasting and the conversation around you was blocking out your growling stomach. He was smiling as his hand found the small of your back. "Our table is ready. We can go right there." 

When he applied some pressure with his hand, you lurched forward. Perhaps he was just trying to help you navigate through the crowd, but he could keep his hands to himself. He must have known you were married. You decided to make a show of pointing out some hideous artwork with your left hand, practically shoving your rings in his face. "That's a lovely painting, Commander," you told him, but he just smiled and nodded at you before pulling out a chair at a table set for four.

"Please, call me Derek," he told you as he sank down into the seat across from you, and then he started using your first name without permission. The one blessing was the fact that there was an enormous basket of bread sitting right in the middle of the table along with a variety of spreads and dips. 

You moaned softly and had to bite your lip as you reached for a soft looking roll and the chive butter. Derek was staring at you with parted lips and wide pupils. Had he never seen a woman eat before? Had you ever been this hungry before? You licked your lips as you spread some of the butter onto the roll, and then you took a bite and moaned again. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

After weeks of feeling miserable, you finally knew you could stomach this meal right now. You were still so turned on, and yet your exhaustion was bone deep at this point, but the bread was like a lifeline to normalcy, and you were grabbing onto it. 

Derek cleared his throat as he watched you take those first few sumptuous bites. "I've got to know," he said smoothly, "exactly what would lure you back to Annapolis for good?"

You popped the rest of the roll between your lips and chewed it up before you said, "Nothing."

"There would have to be something. Better research facilities? Your own lab? Both of your degrees and your work are so impressive, you must know there would be endless possibilities for you here."

You were shocked. Running your own lab was your dream. The idea of being in charge of a research team made your skin prickle with desire. You hoped that could be a possibility someday, but you weren't even thirty-five yet. You figured maybe ten years from now when Bickel was getting ready to retire, you'd be able to take his place. 

"My own lab?"

Derek smiled, all white teeth and handsome expression, and then the waitress arrived. You wanted to jump out of your seat and hug her when she asked if you'd like to order any appetizers.

"Do you know when the others will be here?" you asked Derek. "Should we wait to order?"

He shook his head vaguely. "They'll be late. We can order. Get whatever you want."

You almost laughed giddily as you ordered three appetizers and then a steak dinner complete with garlic mashed potatoes and two vegetables. "We can share the appetizers," you said when he looked at you in surprise, even though you didn't want to. You placed your hand on your belly, trying to subtly thank the baby for cooperating right now. 

When the waitress finished taking his order and then departed, you asked, "Which admirals are joining us?"

"Hmm? Oh... uh, Rivera and Silverman."

You were not familiar with either of them which made you panic slightly. You should have done more research on who was attending each of the lectures. Why hadn't you done that? Oh, right... because you were too busy throwing up. The bread basket called to you, and before you knew it, you'd eaten more than half while Derek droned on about how amazing you'd be running your own lab. He didn't even know you, which made this more annoying than anything else, but your stomach was holding up spectacularly, so you could overlook it. You could have kissed the waitress when she came back with the appetizers.

"So, do you live alone?" he asked as you dipped two mozzarella sticks into some marinara sauce. You paused before shoving them into your mouth so you could chuckle. 

"No. I live with my husband and our dog." Then the fried cheese hit your tongue, and it was like you were living in a world of color after weeks in black and white. Your stomach gurgled pleasantly, finally accepting food once again. Tears of joy stung at your eyes as you took a forkful of crispy brussels sprouts and a potato skin.

Derek laughed and asked how old you were, but your mouth was full, so he said, "Let's just say, my career in Annapolis outlived my bad marriage. And that's been the case for many, many officers."

You swallowed the potato like it was a lead weight. That had definitely been the case for Cat, unfortunately. And you'd heard a lot of stories, sure, especially when you were at the Naval Academy. And perhaps that was part of the reason you fought against the mere idea of being with Bradley at first. One officer in a relationship with a civilian was bad enough, but two officers trying to make it happen together usually spelled disaster.

But you felt stronger with Bradley. The two of you worked hard to get through your struggles and end up in a better place. You and he were going to be parents, for fuck's sake. 

"Just sharing my two cents with you," Derek added, still smiling. "You're young, and you haven't lived it yet, but I can tell you that you'll go farther here than in San Diego. Especially if you're already open to the idea of having more."

You wanted to check the time on your phone; you must have been sitting here for over half an hour by now. The other two chairs were still empty. Derek was starting to get under your skin. 

"I'm open to the idea of pursuing my career at Top Gun along with my husband."

"He's an officer as well?" Derek asked with a laugh. "I'm sure he's having a great week back in San Diego without you."

You felt heat flame up your neck and into your cheeks as your steak dinners arrived. "Yes, he's an officer. He's a Top Gun aviator."

"He deploys?" Derek asked in disbelief before laughing harder. "You should make the move back to the east coast now, before he ruins your life. If he hasn't already."

He had gone from complimenting you to trying to humiliate you in a matter of minutes. You'd been blinded by the glorious meal, but the truth hit you square in the chest. As he picked up his fork and steak knife, you asked, "Why did you lie to me about two admirals coming? Do Rivera and Silverman even exist?"

Somehow his smile was still persistent as he said, "Sure, they exist. They went to the cocktail reception on base." You watched the knife sink into his steak as he added, "You're gorgeous. I wanted to get you alone. Let you know how much better things could be. Offer to set you up for a one-on-one meeting with Admiral Jennings tomorrow if you come home with me tonight. It's on the table if you want it."

In one quick movement, you snatched his plate away from him with the fork still stuck in the steak. "Okay, well fuck you, Derek," you snarled, standing up and waving for the waitress. "You're disgusting and delusional if you thought I would even consider going home with you."

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked cautiously, and you realized you were causing a bit of a scene now in the crowded restaurant. 

"Yes. I need boxes. Like a whole bunch of takeout boxes," you told her. "I'm taking all of this food with me."

"Right," the waitress replied, her gaze drifting to Derek who looked very unamused. 

"I'm taking his meal, too," you snapped. "Hurry up with the boxes."

She scurried away as you piled all of the food onto one plate and said, "You're so fucking stupid, Derek. I already have Admiral Jennings' phone number. I met her last year. I told her to her face that I'm staying in San Diego."

"Well then you're making a bad choice," he told you.

Then the waitress set down some takeout containers while you practically tossed the empty plate back at Derek. You scraped as much of the food into the first box as would fit before moving to the second one. "He's paying for dinner," you told the waitress. "And I'm taking one fork and one steak knife with me. He'll pay for those as well." You shoved the rest of the bread into the last box and then stacked them all up before meeting Derek's eyes. "You just ruined the first meal I've been able to stomach in weeks, asshole. And my husband is a nice man. Very sweet. Treats people with respect. But if he were here right now, you'd have a bloody face and some broken ribs." 

You picked up the boxes, grabbed the utensils, and made your way toward the exit. You went straight for your rental car and climbed inside before cranking the engine. Then you took a massive bite of garlic mashed potatoes before cutting off a piece of Derek's steak while you called your husband. 

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

Bradley was working out in the garage when your ringtone cut across the playlist you made for him. He practically dropped his barbell to the cement floor to get his phone from where it was sitting on the tool chest. "Sweetheart. I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite yet. Didn't we just get off the phone?" he asked with a smile as he ran his forearm along his sweaty face. "Not that I mind one bit." He was about to ask if you were done with dinner, but then he realized that you were crying. The sweat on his skin turned ice cold as he quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Roo," you wailed, and he started looking around the garage as if there was something out here that would help both of you calm down. "He ruined my fucking dinner!" you sobbed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he paced the length of the garage, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Who ruined it?"

"Commander Patterson."

Bradley honestly could not fathom how that guy had ruined your dinner. All he knew was that you told him you were horny as hell when you got to the restaurant, and that he didn't trust guys he didn't know around you. Most men were disgusting, and you were lovely and also pregnant with his child.

"Can you explain what happened so I can understand?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah," you sniffed, and he heard a car engine start up in the background. "The nugget and I were both really enjoying the food. Like really enjoying it, Bradley. You know how I've been, and this was delectable and exactly what we both wanted. Like it was so good, if you'd been there with me looking super sexy, I would have probably had an orgasm in the middle of the damn restaurant."

Bradley swallowed hard as he stood in the garage, wondering where the hell this was going. "I understand. You haven't been able to eat much, so that must have felt amazing. Now can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He ruined it!" you replied loudly. "He lied to me! There were no admirals planning on joining us. He tricked me into meeting him there, and then he gave me fake compliments and accolades about my work. He told me that I could get ahead with a career in Annapolis if I slept with him, all because he wanted to fuck me!"

Bradley almost dropped his phone. "Did he touch you?" he growled, switching to speaker phone as he rushed through the backyard toward the house and looked for flights to Maryland at the same time. "Did he fucking touch you?!"

"No!" you practically shrieked. "No, he didn't touch me! You think I'd let him get anywhere near me after he ruined my dinner?"

"Where are you now?" he demanded. "And what's this Commander fucking Patterson's first name?" 

Bradley was seeing red as he walked inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind him, and Tramp ran whimpering into the spare room. The earliest he could get out of San Diego on an eastbound flight was a red eye that left at 9:30, and that was nearly four hours from now.

"I'm not telling you his name," you said softly with a little sniff at the end. "I'm afraid you'll strangle him."

Frankly, if Bradley got his hands on the asshole, he'd probably wish all he got was strangled to death. "Where are you now?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice calmer.

"In my rental car."

"Alone?

"Yes!"

"Good," he replied as he clenched and unclenched his fist and headed for the shower. "Go back to your hotel room, and text me the address. I'll stay on the phone with you until you get there, and then I'll be out on a red eye that lands in Annapolis at 5:55 tomorrow morning local time. And then you'll tell me his first name, and I'll beat the shit out of him for ruining your dinner and acting like my wife is his for the taking."

"Bradley," you said firmly. "I do not need you to come out here. I already feel better now that I told you about it."

"Well, I sure as fucking hell don't," he grunted, peeling off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom. "Does he know which hotel you're staying at? And where the hell is Cat?"

You groaned and said, "No, he doesn't know. And Cat went to the actual cocktail reception with the actual admirals. I seriously hate Commander Patterson. But I did steal his dinner, so that's making me feel a little bit better."

His thumb was hovering over his phone screen, ready to purchase a seat on this flight. "Wait, you stole his dinner?"

"Yes. I took it. When I tell you the food was that good, Bradley, I am not joking. I housed most of the appetizers and the bread basket, and then I took his plate before he even got a bite of his porterhouse. I dumped all of the food into takeout boxes, took some silverware, told the waitress he'd pay for everything, and then I left."

Bradley burst into laughter in spite of himself. He could actually picture it so clearly. The haughty expression on your face. Your biting wit once you figured out what was going on. The way you must have looked dumping the steaks into the containers. "You're a damn force to be reckoned with, Baby Girl. Are you driving back to the hotel with all the food?"

"Yeah. I mean I did eat a few bites when I first got back in the car, because the baby was demanding it, but I'm absolutely going to eat the rest in my room. Fuck that guy. He doesn't even deserve his overpriced steak. It's mine now."

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hand and laughed. "Do you really not need me to come out there?"

He heard you take a deep breath before you said, "I miss you a lot, but I really do not need you to come out, okay? The nugget and I are fine now, ruined dinner aside."

"Alright," he murmured. "If you change your mind, you have two hours to let me know, and I'll be knocking on your door by 7 in the morning."

You moaned and whispered, "God, that does sound good. I'm back at the hotel. Heading up to my room now. Any chance you feel like having phone sex before I eat my two steaks and roughly four pounds of potatoes?"

"Fuck," he grunted, his cock already getting hard as he looked down at himself. "Yeah. A hundred percent. Let me just get in the shower here."

"Okay, Daddy," you muttered, and Bradley was practically tripping over himself as he started up the spray of water. Once you were safely inside your room, you told him, "I'm ready when you are."

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

You got off twice to your vibrator and your husband's sexy voice. It was so easy to imagine him in the shower with the sound of the water in the background. You could picture the steam snaking around his body while he held his thick cock in his hand. You could practically taste his skin and smell the body wash he was definitely using as lube. 

"That's my sweet girl," he crooned as you started to peak for the second time. "When I get you home on Friday, my mouth is going to be all over that pussy. I miss you so much. I want my wife and my baby with me."

"Bradley," you whined, legs bent and shaking as you got closer. "I need you to fuck me. I'm so goddamn horny for you!"

He grunted right into the phone and said, "Keep it up, and I'll break your new car at the airport, too."

And then you came. Hard. Your chest was sweaty. Your back was arching off the bed. The vibrator rolled out of your grasp, and you stroked yourself with your fingers and whispered his name over and over. 

"I'm about to come," Bradley moaned. And you could hear the exact second he was probably making a white mess all over the tile wall. You imagined it on your belly instead. 

You just wanted to go home, and when your back finally settled against the bedding you said, "I need you to promise to fuck me at least twenty times between Friday night and Monday morning."

"Make it thirty, Sweetheart," he crooned as he panted. "At least. I fucking need it, too."

You turned your head to the side where a photo of him was still pulled up on your phone. "Sounds perfect. Don't forget, I'm having dinner with my mom and dad tomorrow, so please FaceTime when you're walking out of work if you can."

"For the love of all things holy, please don't talk about your parents when I'm still holding my cock."

You giggled, and then he laughed. "I won't do it again," you promised as you sat up in bed, eyeing the takeout containers on the desk. "I love you, Roo. I'm going to eat Derek Patteron's steak, take a shower, and then pass out."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. Can you put your phone down by your belly?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing at how sweet this man was.

"And I love you, too, my little nugget. Be nice to Mommy."

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

BG is all over the place... Roo probably has whiplash. Derek should be punished for ruining that meal for her and the baby. Just a few chapters left, and we'll have another series for them in the books! Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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@yuckosworld

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Can you write something for: "being Tommy's wife"? Please. The girl would have been raised by Polly, who raised and loves her like a daughter. She grew up with the boys, especially Tommy. She witnessed Finn's birth and everything. When he goes to war, he promises to stay with her when he returns. Another, Tommy's brothers have her as a sister so they will defend her as one, Ada and her are best friends and Isaiah had a crush on her as a kid... Kisses, sorry for the long thing, I love your stories, see u later 🩷.

Hey Love,

I am deeply sorry this took a million years to write. Thanks for sending this in and for being so kind. I'm so happy that you enjoy my writing. Hope you like this one <3

Warnings: Peaky related themes like violence, murder, drunk dads, beatings, suicide, childbirth - and of course kissing and cuteness

You had always been close with the Shelby Family. Your mother died in childbirth leaving you without siblings, something that was easily remedied with the constant chaos of your next-door neighbors. You were often lumped in with them as your father worked constantly. You traded what extra things you had for their company. You weren't rich living on Watery Lane, but you always had extra bread which was kind of like being rich. 

As you got older you started to understand what happened down at the Betting Shop. You remembered Arthur taking Tommy aside and telling him to keep you as far away from there as possible. So he took you down to the cut and you spent most of your time with the horses in Charlie’s yard. 

Those moments were your happiest. Tommy was always around to get into trouble with. One night when your dad had laid a beating on you for ruining a pair of shoes in the stable he’d helped you climb out of your window across the ledge and into his bedroom. He’d fixed your swelling cheek with some ice wrapped in a kitchen towel. 

There was an unspoken easiness between the two of you. John and Arthur were different. John was always teasing you loudly and Arthur was always laughing. Always fun and games until someone was giving you a hard time, then they were all business. 

You’d been there for Finn’s birth. A memory that was both happy and sad. You normally avoided the Shelby parents at all costs. Mrs. Shelby had a dead look in her eyes and she would twirl around the kitchen talking to ghosts, other times she would cry out in the night so loud you could hear her in your own apartment. Mr. Shelby was mean. Not much to him other than that. Finn was special, he was the first baby you ever held. You had to help Polly clean him off and get him sorted when he was born. You remembered sitting down once he had been fed and fallen asleep. You sat down covered in after birth swearing you would never have children. Ever. 

Watching Tommy come into the room and hold his sleeping brother with a look in his eyes, something deep inside you reconsidered. 

Polly was alright, she’d always put bows in your hair and read your tea leaves. Out of all the adults in your life, you had the biggest soft spot for her. She had all the juiciest stories that made you want to go out and start living your own life. 

Something you were just on the cusp of doing before the war started. 

The boys left and you tried not to let it break you. The unmovable safety they had brought you was gone and the city seemed vicious. Tommy wasn't there when your father was drunk… Tommy wasn't there at all. You’d stayed awake all night before he left. Laying there with him talking about everything you wouldn't be able to talk about while he was gone. Well, almost everything. You held his hand and laughed till your ribs hurt at all his jokes about what it would be like and what he would do while he was gone. Anything to keep the truth of it at bay. You wanted to tell him how you felt but you didn’t want him to carry more burdens with him when he left. You promised him that Ada, Finn, and John’s kids wouldn't starve and he’d kissed your cheek and promised he’d come back for you. Those words haunted your every moment.

To avoid your father and the emptiness of missing Tommy you threw yourself into your job as a mid-wife. At the end of the day you would sneak food out of your pantry and bring it over to Polly. She ran a tight ship void of all the things you had enjoyed about her when you were a kid. She was hard on the kids and they were mostly Ada’s responsibility as Polly shouldered the betting shop. There was a balance, most of your money went to the household and Polly was always grateful for your help. Things were fine until they weren't. Young boys who weren't quite yet fighting age had started up gangs and more drugs and conflict swept through the streets of Birmingham. You ended up working while also causing lots of trouble. 

The worst night of it came just before Tommy had come home. You’d killed another stupid idiot pushing his wrapped body into the cut in the middle of the night. It was exhausting, for every life you brought into the world you ended another. A cycle you didn't think you would ever end up in. You knelt by the side of the river letting the rain soak through your clothes. Looking down into the black water you could feel the same pull that took Mrs. Shelby. It was calling out to you softly but you shook your head. You had a lot more fight still left in you. 

______________Tommy’s POV 

Coming home wasn't the relief he thought it would be all those years ago. He came home and you hugged him tightly. While you looked like you were bursting with life he felt like like he was dead on the inside. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes bright. Your fingernails had a pink tinge to them. He’d hoped it was from your job as a midwife but he knew how bad things had gotten here. He could feel it in the way people looked at you on their walk home from the train station. Settling in was awful. The nightmares that kept him up at night, the sad sense of rejection that was growing around you. But the weight of the business is what was crushing him. He needed you and Polly out of it, he needed to step up as a man should. You especially should have never had to get your hands as dirty as they were. But there you were all those names etched into your soul, and you still looked at him with girlish adoration, as if he wasn't the man who had commended your life. 

Things between him and Polly had never been worse, any move he made she would disagree. You still kept looking at him with your big eyes full of emotions he didn't know how to feel anymore. 

Ada was a few years younger than you but you were both old enough now that it wasn't noticeable. He saw the both of you sitting on the front step watching some men moving furniture out of the house down the street. There were glasses of wine between you and the sun made the flush of your cheeks look so red. Ada mumbled something and waved to Isiah as he passed by and both of you burst into giggles. That’s when he realized if he didn't make good on his promise, you wouldn't be around. Men looked at you with fear, but they also acknowledged the fierce competence and loyalty you have. By the time he got the business up, and then got it legal, you would probably be married off. He hated the sense of panic he felt bubble up in his stomach. Just once he would like to feel something pleasant. 

All day he thought about what to do. They were drinking beer around the table. He was always happy listening to John and Arthur tell jokes. It made him happy that they had managed to keep more of themselves alive than he had himself. 

“Going to head out for the night. I’m on call tomorrow so I can only help around the house.” You looked at Polly who nodded. Your eyes flashed to him for a second before wrapping your wool shawl around your shoulders. 

“I’ll walk you home.” He could feel John and Arthur’s eyes narrow in on him as the silence rolled through the room. 

“You haven't forgotten I only live next door have you?” You smiled at him and gestured for him to come along. He followed you down the stairs and out the front door. Three steps to your front door and you turned to look at him.

“Well, this is me.” You pointed at the door giving him a smile. “I’d invite you in for a drink but my father wouldn't approve.” 

“Walk with me?” He asked and he wished there was more emotion in his tone. You raised your eyebrows and he almost wanted to laugh. 

“A private meeting with Mr.Shelby. Wow.” You linked your arm in his and he could tell that there was hurt under your humor. 

“Things-” His voice trailed off as he lost all the things he had thought about telling you. He wanted to tell you to marry him but that was much to forward you deserved something nice and for it to move at your own pace. 

“Are different” You finished. “You're not you, Polly is pulling her hair out, and your secret-keeping is making it impossible to help with the business.” 

“Precisely.” He said in a cold tone. He wanted to explain but the words were still gone. 

“Well, fix it then.” You said in a short tone. “You came home and made a mess of things, so fix it.” 

“It’s not that easy.” He pulled a cigarette out and offered you one. You nodded and he lit one, taking a drag then watched as you took it from him. Your lips perched where his had been a moment before. His eyes focused on your mouth and he could feel the tension become obvious. 

“I want to make things right between us. I’m just not sure how.” He said the words slowly finally dragging his gaze from your mouth. Your cheeks had flushed again and he fought the urge to stroke your cheek. 

“Thomas. All you have to do is trust me. Then talk to me. We spent our whole lives that way. Only four years were apart.” There was pleading your eyes and he wondered if he would ever be able to deny you anything. 

“Alright. I want to shoulder most of the business.” You sighed and he continued on. “Not because you and Polly aren't competent, but because things are even higher risk than they have been. I want to shoulder the consequences. To do that I need to keep you out of it.” 

“I don’t want you to face things alone. Not the risk or the consequences.” It was his turn to let out a sigh. 

“I know you don't, that’s why I -” He what? Was in love with you, wanted to marry you? Wanted to build you a life that would make any other woman on the planet die of a jealous heart? 

“You what?” They were by the cut now and you turned to look at him. You were angry and you had every right to be. 

“I want to marry you.” He blurted the words out and ran a hand through his hair. Your hands flew to your mouth and you looked at him with wide eyes illuminated by the moonlight. Was this positive or negative? The regret and embarrassment started to creep up his neck when you lunged at him. 

He stumbled slightly before properly handling your weight. Your arms were tight around his neck and all he could smell was the perfume along your neck. He took a deep breath, the first real breath he had taken since leaving France. He wanted the weight of you pressed up against him all the time. The feeling you brought him was enough to keep the demons at bay. How selfish was it of him to take this easy path out. He should have worked out a proposal and should have courted you properly. 

“We don’t - we could -” He tried to figure out what he wanted to ask. 

“Shut up and let me have my moment.” You said before pulling away enough to kiss him. It was soft and slow and he knew without a doubt he was yours forever. 

After a good amount of kissing, he smiled at you and meant it. He walked you home and then took his beating from Arthur and John. 

“I don’t care if God himself descended from the sky to claim her. She’s my sister and you won’t hurt her Tommy.” Tommy couldn't remember the last time he heard his brother’s voice sound so lethal. 

“You’ll be held to the same standards as any other dumbass wanting to date her,” John added. 

“Trying to do the opposite of hurt her.” He said wanted them to see he was trying to make you happy too. 

“That’s what they all say,” Arthur said with pointed eyes before bursting out into a booming laugh. “I want this to happen, brother I do. Just don’t mess around with her.” Arthur gave him a rough pat on the back and John started to make jokes about all the ways Tommy could disappoint you. 

Eventually, they let him go up to his room. You had already climbed across the ledge to his window and gotten into his bed.

“Took you long enough.” You said it as a joke but there was something in your voice that gave you away. You were starting to think he wasn't going to show up. 

“Boys had to rough me up a bit first.” Tommy shrugged his jacket off. 

“Why? what did you do?” Her eyes looked him over with concern. 

“Showed an interest in you. They had to do the usual.” He said absently changing into his pj’s trying to seem unbothered by your gaze watching him closely as he undressed. 

“What’s the usual?” You whispered.

“Bit of a beating, the usual threats. Part of dating someones sister.” 

“You mean any guy that’s wanted to date me has been roughed up by the three of you?!” 

“Yeah.” Tommy leaned against the wall looking at you laying in his bed in your night clothes. Head propped up on your arm. 

“I thought I was ugly.” You whispered still in shock over this news.

“What?!” Tommy laughed again. 

“None of the boys ever asked me out over the years. I thought I was ugly.” Tommy moved across the room and into the bed to assure you that you were never ugly.  

_____________________________

It took a lot of time to get out of that house on Watery Lane. Your father had passed before your wedding and Arthur walked you down the aisle. Ada and Poly felt all was right in the universe once you joined the family properly. They had a lot of fun planning the whole thing out. Your honeymoon was in the new house, a massive thing that Tommy had built for you.  It was large but warm.

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2

Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.

Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word

Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.

[2.33k]

Part 1

The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 

Days are nothing compared to nights. 

New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 

My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 

I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 

It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 

A race I wasn’t there for. 

I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 

My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 

As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 

“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 

Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 

It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 

“Eloise, long time no hear.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.

“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 

“He misses you, Elle.”

“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”

“He wanted you there.”

I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 

“You should call him, not me.”

“It depends, Max” 

“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Actually, exactly that.”

“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 

“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 

My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 

We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 

“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 

“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”

“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”

The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 

“Max?”

“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.

“Stop, this isn’t funny.”

I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 

“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”

“Can’t help it right now.”

“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”

“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”

“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”

“Hm, I learned it from you.”

“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”

It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 

With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 

I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 

Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 

As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 

“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”

I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 

“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”

“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”

“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 

“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”

“Eloise, you’re rambling.”

I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 

“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”

Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 

I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 

The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 

“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”

He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 

“Hey, Lan.” 

The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 

“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 

“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”

“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”

I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.

His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 

“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 

The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 

“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”

Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 

“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 

“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 

“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 

“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”

I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”

It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 

“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 

As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 

“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”

“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”

“About that…”

About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 

“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”

Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 

“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least. 

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down. 

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?” 

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

 “You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused.  “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

 “You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that. 

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes. 

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” 

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped.  Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight. 

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.” 

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now? 

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!” 

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined. 

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

 The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.  You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him. 

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?” 

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”  

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod. 

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him. 

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

Taglist is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @before-we-get-started @veltana @andydrysdalerogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whosana-maria @dancer3205 @ijustneedpopcorn @mrsevans90 @pekusofixus @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @jamneuromain @kmc1989 @geminiflanagansblog @stcrrjoon @blogbog710 @blackhawkfanatic

[anamericangirl]

The Israel vs Palestine conflict is such a long-spanning and insanely complicated thing that there's literally college courses that revolve entirely around the subject. There's people who have been studying it for 70 years who still barely understand it. There's historians with PhDs trying to piece together anything they can that could help them figure out a means to potentially instill a ceasefire or even peace altogether who have failed time and time again for decades if not literally centuries.

And yet people with 7 years of Twitter experience think they know enough about the conflict to pick a side and vouch for the destruction of the opposite side.

The amount of times I want to say "Shut the fuck up you fucking stupid idiot, you know literally nothing about this conflict, you have no idea what's actually happening, I bet if I asked your opinion on the Two State Solution you wouldn't even have a fucking clue what that means" on a daily basis reading these actual braindead moronic 16yo Twitter users' dipshit opinions who keep citing celebrity blue-checkmark Twitter posts as evidence to vouch for the eradication of a middle eastern country they don't even know a fucking thing about is STAGGERING.

I'm in my mid-30s and I stay out of politics on all sides because I am not qualified in any way to form opinions on matters so serious that they may or may not result in people being killed, and it fucking pisses me off that people half my fucking age are telling me that I should support Palestine or Ukraine or vouch for the genocide of Israel or join ANTIFA or BLM or put #FreeTaiwan in my fucking twitter bio.

You actual braindead stupid fucking morons have absolutely no clue what any of these conflicts actually mean, none of them have anything to do with you, go back to bitching about girls in video games being too sexy and shut the fuck up about actual real conflicts because you're a fucking moron if you think you know anything about what you claim you're in support of.

I swear to God if I see one more Twitch player playing Fortnite ranting about the Israel Palestine conflict and telling people that donations during their stream go to Palestine, Ukraine, Taiwan and LGBT activism centers, I'm gonna go feral. It is so unbelievably belittling to people who have spent their entire life researching and educating themselves on these conflicts to be able to build an understanding, that a dipshit who collects loli bestiality porn and plays Metroid Prime on Twitch thinks he's on the same level as those researchers.

PREACH! It's so fucking annoying how everyone suddenly thinks they're experts on this conflict when before October 7, 2023 none of them even knew it was happening and they're just cringey ass brain dead parrots saying what they're supposed to say without doing their due diligence to at least get somewhat informed on the matter before boycotting Starbucks, using hashtags and swapping the Ukraine flag for the Palestine flag and thinking they're doing something.

What really gets to me is when influencers I follow, like apolitical ones who are grown ass adults, jump on the bandwagon and are actually orchestrating fundraisers for Palestine and it makes me so fucking mad because they absolutely have no excuse for that. I just want to scream at them "hey! you know literally every cent you raise is going straight to Hamas and no Palestinian will ever get a single penny!! It's all going to buy weapons to kill Israeli civilians. YOU ARE LITERALLY FUNDING GENOCIDE AND TERRORISM YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!!" I don't have a shred of respect for people who talk about all the terrible things happening in Gaza but don't have a single word to say about the atrocities Hamas commits daily in Israel. Not one of them has condemned or even mentioned the attack on October 7th. Fuck every single one of them.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Age regression, a useful coping mechanism.

Long post about agere!

So, it's possible you've seen these things on my blog:

Agere. Petre. Agedre. Petdre. Age regression. Regressor. SFW. All that stuff, but, what does it mean? Well, I'm here to tell you!

So firstly, questions are ALWAYS welcome! Rather in reblogs, comments, or in my ask box, I'm always willing to answer questions about age regression!

Second, if you want JUST the terminology explained, you can find it here!

With that out the way: Age Regression. It's basically mentally reverting back to an eariler age! It's a completely SFW (Safe for work) coping mechanism! Though not all regressors use it as a coping mechanism, some just do it for fun! (Also it's technically a form of dissociation!

Same idea with pet regression, but it's reverting to the mindset of an animal! Kinda like shifts for a therian! (Coming from a therian!)

It's a wonderful thing, though it may not always feel like it. Just like how toddlers for example, might have tantrums, not know how to comprehend big emotions, or feel confused. That can happen in regression too! It can be voluntary or Involuntary. But there's ways to manage that!

Oh, and regression is for EVERYONE! (Any ethnic group, any gender, any identity, nobody is allowed to gatekeep it!)

When you're regressed, it really does feel like you're younger, like things are simple, and such. The levels of how extreme it feels varies from person to person!

But yeah, you mentally become a younger age, can be anything from a baby to a teen!

I do HIGHLY recommend doing it! I highly recommend watching shows you loved as a kid, or kids shows you think you'd enjoy now. I recommend getting in cozy clothes, maybe drinking from a sippy cup/water bottle to feel younger? Colouring, playing games (like minecraft!) Listening to soft music, these things really help me!

I'll admit, it can be scary the first time. But you have to trust your mind, trust that youll be able to become big again (your current mental age) when you need to.

Agere (short for age regression) and petre (short for pet regression) can help you have a childhood you never had, help you process difficult emotions, help heal your inner self and inner child, destress, and lots of other benefits!

And hey, some regressors PREFER to watch shows like Hazbin hotel, like playing games like call of duty, like drawing detailed artwork, like swearing. That's all okay too! You don't even have to use baby/kid stuff or talk/act like a baby/kid to regress! But, I do recommend starting off with that first, as it can help you know what regression feels like! ^^

Another thing, you might be a regressor without even knowing it! Like, have you ever laid in bed, grasping to cuddle anything soft near you—Just wishing you were a kid again, that someone would care for you? Maybe you felt like you were having unreasonable fears, like afraid of growing up, or afraid of the dark. Did the world feel bigger, did you maybe want to have a pacifier, or a stuffy?

That could be Involuntary regression! It's a defense mechanism of the brain, basically trying to process the world by becoming mentally younger to help.

You can learn to help control this, not always, but there's ways to help! Pushing away your regression isn't always a good thing, as often, it comes back stronger.

Instead, I recommend trying to find what makes you feel good or safe while regressed, and finding time to do it once or twice a week! (As long as regression isn't taking over your life/interfering with you as a teen/adult, you can do it a lot more than that! Every day if you want!)

You can watch videos online on how to regress, how to do it in secret if you're not ready/don't want to tell others! (I recommend looking up "Agere" or "How to age regress" or "What's agere?")

Same for pet regression! And another thing, there's something called Agedre (Age dreaming) and Petdre (Pet dreaming)

Again, it's always safe for work! It's basically acting, and wanting to be treated as a certain age/animal. It can help to have someone coddle you, and treat yourself younger, even if you'd rather not regress/can't! It's just as valid as Agere/Petre!

And, the community is huge! Slowly, we're working to normalize this, help spread awareness about mental health, and that regression ISN'T a disorder, it doesn't need to be cured! It's a tool that even some therapist recommended!

And hey, even if it's not for you—Please, don't hurt us who rely on it, or use it for fun. If it makes you uncomfortable? That's fine, even if it's 200% SFW, you're allowed your own safe space and boundaries. But try to understand that, we're not hurting anyone, and we can respect each other without taking away each other's safe spaces.

Thank you for listening, questions are always welcome and encouraged! And I hope this helped! (If you have a question you're afraid to ask, you can ask in my ask box with anon! This is a judgement free space!)

The end! ^^

[simpingland]

I WILL BE SEATED FOR YOUR ZALAGON FIC!!!! (plz take all the time u need!!!! I love your writing sm <3)

The Duty To Protect // Aemond Targaryen x Male!Reader. Part 2

Summary: after years as lovers in Essos, the peace is ended when they call for war. Aemond is left with the task of staying in the castle while he has to see the love of his life leave for battle. Angst +fluff. Part 1

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

The sharp sound of clashing swords had become distant in your head. Still sweaty from training, the king's words were hard to take in. And you could only think of one person, Aemond. In your imagination a thousand things happened that ended up throwing him to the ground, wounded and dead. And then you felt that you could die too, because then you would never be able to walk around your castle again, or your mountains, or even breathe like before. For more than three years now, all you breathed in and exalted was his essence.

"Son..." said your father, in the sweetest tone you had ever heard him use. "This is your duty, to protect your people. Tell me you understand."

"I understand, father." Something came back to you at the word protect. "And I will do it well. I swear this. But I have a request, and only you can order it."

He accepted your request and patted you lovingly on the shoulder and let you go. But you didn't know where to go. You wanted to go back to your Prince, but on the other hand you wanted to let him enjoy the peace that remained in his mind. So you decided to watch him from the top of the tower, where the view of the training yard let you see how he was still training. You could tell him he was training too hard, but when you trained together, he was anything but productive. You were always his biggest distraction, because you were all about talking, playing with swords and shields, and besides, Aemond felt incapable of causing you any harm. And that also included saying "no" to training together. There were few things he could say no to. And it was for that very reason that you now debated whether to tell him the news now or to delay it. There had to be a way to stop him from flying with you into battle, but Aemond would not leave you alone, and that did not reassure you.

You saw your little sister scamper around the castle, kicking you as she passed behind you and laughing on her way to kick Aemond again. Aemond was able to catch her foot, stopping her and capturing her in his arms.

"Another princess bent on distracting my training, I see," Aemond said as your sister laughed.

"Can you teach me how to fight this time?" she asked, that was her daily question, she asked it at every opportune occasion and the answer was the same.

"You are still very little, but I swear I will teach you." The prince spoke to her as if she was an adult, taking her wishes seriously.

"You always say that. But you only help my brother..." then your sister looked in your direction, and you saw Aemond turn his head as well. You saw his mischievous grin appear.

"That's because your brother doesn't have much talent. He needs it more than you do. And you need to learn to read before you learn to fight."

That made you smile. Many nights, Aemond was slow to return to bed (or often to your bed) because he entertained himself by helping your brothers with their reading. His soft voice soothed them and he had much more patience for them than the maester and septas. Sometimes he would read to you on nights when you found it hard to sleep, and of course, any lesson explained by Aemond was much easier to understand, and you were distracted by that magnificent face of his.

You went down to where he was, and he began to pick up his sword. Your sister disappeared again as she found a playmate.

"I'm sorry she's such a pain," you apologised.

"Don't be silly, I like that she has initiative. You could learn it from her..."

You helped him pack up, and inside the vast weapons store, you and Aemond found yourselves alone. Then, with the morning light streaming in, the solitude of the place and both of you glowing from the exercise, you couldn't help but grab Aemond's cheeks to close the distance with a kiss. It was more intense than those you gave each other outside the walls of your rooms. It was a serene, deep kiss, and your need was palpable. Normally, between training sessions, you were also given to displays of affection, with calculated rubs on his shoulder or face, and the occasional peck when no one was looking. And in the face of that affection, Aemond would only blush and promise to repay you for the distraction in private. But you weren't flirting now.

"What is it, my prince?" Aemond had broken off and watched your face for whatever it was that had affected you.

"Nothing, it's just... I wanted to kiss you."

"Yeah... but there's something else."

You had to tell him. There is no person better qualified in those matters than Aemond. He had noticed it himself, and he would know better than anyone what to tell you to win a battle.

"Braavos doesn't want to negotiate any more. And neither does my father." It was enough for him to understand. And Aemond kept a distance.

"Are we at war?"

"Seven days from now there will be a battle. My father believes we outnumber their men and that the dragons will secure us--"

"Don't go," he interrupted.

"What?"

"Don't go. You can't go, they'll kill you." His tone was curt, bordering on insult.

"I must go. It's my duty as heir." You tried to forget his lack of faith in you.

"Then I will go with you."

"You can't. You must stay here, taking care of my siblings and my mother."

"What am I, a fucking septa?" He began to raise his voice.

"Don't get offended, It's you who thinks I'm not ready for battle."

"The reality is that you shouldn't go, especially not without me."

"The reality is that I am the one who will reign here and I have the power to decide about you."

"Are you ordering me to stay here because I have offended you?"

"I'm ordering you to stay because I don't want to look like a weakling in need of protection in front of the men I'm supposed to protect." That was a half-truth.

"For my duty to you is to be honest with you, and I know that if you leave you will not return."

"They won't dare to kill me on the back of a dragon."

"You could do it. They'd find a way to bring you down. You are distracted, clumsy, and you have never faced men willing to kill you before." Aemond's eyes seemed unwilling to look at you, and he remained overly serious, forcibly serious.

"This is what I have been trained for, and there is nothing that will stop me. Least of all you." You spat that last word at him as an insult, for he was offending you with his every word.

Without looking back, you left that room that held good memories except for this scene. It had not been your first argument, but Aemond had never been one of the dozens of people who doubted your ability. And to see that his biggest complaint at seeing you go was that he thought you were useless was painful enough. The rest of the day was spent avoiding him in the corridors, turning a deaf ear to your name on his lips when he saw you. In the evening, gathered in the room where your father conducted his business, he was able to sit across from you.

You paid little attention to the map, nor to your father's words, but when you turned to look at Aemond, he was attentive. He would certainly make a leader a thousand times better than you, too bad life wasn't the other way around.

"Prince Aemond," your father addressed him, "I presume you have been informed that we wish you to remain guarding the castle and the family."

"Aye, my lord. And so I will. Though it is not a role that makes me feel satisfied, your son needs reinforcements."

"I do not need them!" Your loud voice surprised the others, you were not known for your anger, nor your hostility towards the prince. And yet only Aemond seemed to put on a calm face.

"I need a proper rider," your father continued to speak, trying to ignore your anger. "And you, Aemond, are a competent swordsman, and my family trusts you. Though you may be sure that I also agree with you that my son should be helped...he is barely capable of paying attention."

That was what ended up causing you to leave the room. Ignoring your father calling you back. You wished Aemond had left behind you, but only your footsteps could be heard, and Aemond stayed in the room, with a pain in his chest at seeing you hurt and knowing that he was a cause of it.

Alone in your room you found no distractions, the sheets were still disheveled and you found a belt decorated with a dragon. You picked it up with the intention of throwing it out of sight, but ended up sleeping with the silver in your hand. And that's how Aemond found you. His weight was noticeable on the bed, and his scent made you open your eyes. Your back was turned to him, so you could only notice his hand stroking your hair and his lips planting a kiss on your neck.

"Are you sleeping?" he asked in a whisper.

"Not anymore" you whispered back.

Then he pushed you gently, turning your body to face his. Immediately his face was on top of you. And any anger was stupid in the sight of that image.

"Your father doesn't know what he's doing."

"It's not my father who offends me."

"Well, he does to me." Aemond returned to his serious and annoyed countenance, but not looking at you.

"You are very much alike. I discovered today that perhaps you are too much alike." Your tone remained unsympathetic.

"You know that's not true. Everything I do here I do for you, not for him."

"Because I'm useless..."

"No, that's not why, listen to me!" he put his hand on your cheek, begging you to look at him carefully. "It's so easy to spend my days helping you be a good heir. Teaching you things, waking up with you and sleeping with you. Being by your side makes me happy. So happy that I forget that this won't last forever. And when someone reminds me that we're not the same, that I can't protect you, that I can't help you...I feel like dying at the thought."

Then a tear fell and ended up on the collar of your shirt. You had never seen him cry before, though you had never been sent into battle before. You sat up, as if to remind him that he could lean on you.

"Aemond..." you could think of no words of comfort. It had always been you who annoyed him with displeasure and he always had the right words. He fiddled his hands on the sheets.

"We have to run away!" He said suddenly. "Let's fly away from here, explore Essos and create another dynasty..."

"And let my ancestor's die?" You interrupted him. He then seemed to snap out of that strange fantasy. "We may have been alone at first...but not anymore. I know you're nervous, but you're not thinking about my siblings. Nor my mother."

Aemond was slow to speak, the tears continued.

"You're right. I just disgraced myself..."

"Don't say that, it's not true." You took his face in your hands then, his eyes shining and one of them drenched in tears. "I'm scared too."

"Then let me go with you."

"No!" You put your forehead against his. "No...they need you, and I need you. If something were to happen to you in battle rest assured that I wouldn't survive much longer...you said it yourself, I'm distracted and clumsy." You said it half-jokingly, but Aemond felt a twinge of pain at the memory of his words.

"I don't want you to go...there always has to be another alternative. We'll come up with something..."

"I don't want another alternative. I want to protect my people. I want you to be proud of me."

"I'd rather be ashamed of you for years if it will keep you in this room with me forever."

You smiled at his comment, and he missed it. You gave him a short kiss, tasting his salty tears.

"That's not true, you're not like that. A great man deserves another great man. And I like that. A Prince with the mind of a king and the will of a warrior. I want you to be proud and look at me with that sternness and calmness of yours."

Then he smiled, shaking his head. You already knew what he was like perfectly, his sincere smiles were only for you, but his respect and affection showed in the seriousness he took in dealing with the people in question. To none of your siblings did he speak condescendingly, always taking into account their intelligence. With your mother he was gentle, and listened to her patiently and quietly. And with your father, he smiled, falsely, a short, toothless smile. And when you were finally back in your intimacy, his hair would fall down on his back, his laughter would be strange but familiar, and you would let him be awkward and bulnerable. And back in the daylight he was still as graceful and grand as the first day you met him.

He let you take off the ribbon that held his hair, and he also let you unbutton his tight clothes. That night, as on many others, you made love. But mostly, as you stroked his hair, he touched and twirled the rings on your other hand, talking until the sun began to appear. He always fell asleep first, and that night you saw him wake up too. Almost for a while you could forget the dangers that lurked.

In the days before the battle, every occasion was appropriate to steal a moment of each other's time, kissing in the corridors, studying in the library, exploring the woods, bathing in the rivers... and when you saw him eating dinner with your family, you found real comfort, for you knew well that they would be safe, and happy too.

"Is your armour heavy?" he asked as he put it on. Already the horn had sounded, warning of the enemy's arrival. His gaze was focused on the bindings and chains, avoiding your face.

"No...but of course the way you're tightening it, I'm going to need help getting it off."

Aemond let out a breath, and began to loosen it. You could see his sadness. He too was protected, and dressed to fly if need be. His hands were still nimble, but you knew he was taking his time on purpose. When he finished, he put his head on your chest and his arms around you, stroking your back, and you enjoyed his closeness.

"I'm coming back, Aemond...and everything will be even better than before." Your lips brushed his hair, and he closed his eyes in a nod.

"If you ask me right now, we can run away from here," he suggested again.

You pulled up his face to kiss him as an answer. An intense kiss that brought you closer together. Aemond tugged at your armour, and you felt his silver hair fill your hands. His tongue sought yours, and were it not for the trumpets outside, you would have spent yet another day lying in bed.

You said goodbye at the castle gates, where your mother embraced you, and where your siblings had to be separated to let you go. As your only farewell to your lover, under the gaze of the court you had to settle for pressing your foreheads together while he caressed the back of your neck and you caressed his cheek. You managed to whisper a few words in his ear.

"When I come back I will tell you of the glory and how much I love you" and you kissed the sapphire that decorated his face.

With your brothers clinging to his waist, Aemond looked up to watch you fly, Zālagon roaring in response to the roars of Vhagar, who was begging to fly with him, missing him as much as Aemond already missed you.

[fxtalitygod]

VI. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, themes/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of child murder/adult murder, implied cannibalism, breastfeeding, pet names (Y/n called Little Flower 4-5x), Implications of child neglect, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies, slight misogynistic themes (if you squint).

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: I apologize for being so late with this post... I was initially going to post this around Thanksgiving (practically on Thanksgiving day), but I decided to do a little revising. I finished this chapter on my flight though I was unhappy with the product, so I tweaked it a little. There were a few other factors, such as spending time with family, and I did happen to get sick while on my vacation; however, I am better and was finally able to finish this chapter. Chapter VII is already in the works and will be released sometime in early January, hopefully, sooner. I know I've been saying this for a while, but I'm still trying to figure out a posting schedule, but in the meantime, I will be posting when I can. Thank you all for being patient with me. It's greatly appreciated. This a friendly reminder that my asks are open. If you want to ask me any questions about this story/other works or to talk about hcs, suggestions, or to be added to the taglist for any of my series, have at it! Thank you for sticking around, and enjoy Part 6 of Survival!

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• Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt.III • Pt.IV • Pt.V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII •

You knew in your years of living that motherhood would never be easy, but taking care of the future heirs of a four-armed man practically considered a god was another story. You were restless, your stress and anxiety slowly creeping up on you. The worst part was that you had to keep those vulnerabilities concealed. Not once were you allowed to let a weakness slip, or else you and your children could end up being the next set of cold bodies on the record.

Today was especially no exception to those rules.

You sat in the garden with your twins, letting their beautiful giggles fill your ears. The wives that had begun to admire you gathered around the scene, cooing at how your baby boy and girl interacted with each other. This was something you had seen often with your babies. The two were inseparable as they were constantly interacting with each other, grabbing and laughing with each other, and overall enjoying their childhood innocence. The sight was almost able to make you forget the upcoming event today.

Inspection day.

It was a typical tradition among the mothers who lived in the temple. Sukuna would request all mothers and children to meet at the temple's main hall to inspect his sons and daughters. It was a way of seeing the progress of his kinder to pick out the most suitable heir among them.

Unfortunately, there were many situations where the father had decided it best for his weaker spawn to be taken out of the competition. It did not matter how old they were— if he saw that they were falling slightly behind the other children, he would not hesitate to end the child’s “miserable life,” as he deemed it.

You were no exception to this rule. No one was. The life of your twins could be ended with a simple wave of Ryomen Sukuna's hand, and you could not be more horrified by that fact. You tried to pride yourself in how you prepared your children for such days, but you could not help but worry. Your twins were strong and healthy, which was the only requirement for infants on inspection day, but as they mature, they must present more than general health. Hardly any of the children made it to their teenage years. None made it to adulthood.

"Is this not your twin's first inspection?"

The question pulled you out of your thoughts as you turned to look at one of the wives, an acquaintance of yours. It had been about a few months since you had given birth to your little miracles, and you could not be more content with the time you've been able to spend with them; however, it would be untruthful if you kept telling yourself that it wasn't taking a toll on you. You could admit that you had become more paranoid, causing harm to you both physically and mentally. There were days that you would hardly leave the nursery, trying to avoid others from seeing you in a disheveled state. Although, it was a rare occasion, meaning no one had any suspicions regarding your behavior.

"Indeed, but I am confident in my parenting," you responded in confidence.

You saw some eyes shine in admiration as you held your head high and proud, proving your current status among the other wives. Over the few months, you managed to convince the other wives that you were untouchable; however, that did not mean you didn’t receive loathing stares and comments. Most of those women had decided it best to keep a distance, waiting for you to slip up to take the higher ground, but it was proving difficult to be patient at that time.

You could feel the stares of the ones who were still waiting. You could already picture the snickers and smirks behind you, knowing that today could be one of your many possible slips. All that could be done was to pray; pray that everything would go according to plan.

Before you allowed your paranoia and anxiety to seep in more than you already had, you looked up to see servants pouring out into the garden, helping some mothers gather their children. One had attempted to approach you, but your attendant quickly hopped in, telling them she could aid you. The two of you gathered what little items you had brought and settled your children in your arms.

It did not take long for everybody in the garden to make their way to the main hall, where Sukuna awaited his next of kin. The crowd was suffocating, some women and even children being too close for comfort. You eventually found yourself in a line in front of the doors to the main hall. Hushed voices filled the room as the women started to converse. The conversations ranged from ones of concern, cockiness, and caution. No matter the topic, you could tell that the tension was increasing.

What went from whispers turned into boisterous discussions. It stayed that way for a while until the inspection began. The second those doors went ajar, the room went silent instantly. You could see how the simple action brought everyone slight fear. The children who were old enough to think were undoubtfully terrified of the occasion, having either been told the dangers of inspection day to prepare them or they had experienced the ritual and what it meant for them if they were to fail.

"The examinations shall begin!"

With that announcement from one of the distant servants, the line started to move forward. There was nothing but silence as the line advanced into the room. From what you knew, silence meant one of two things, dread or reassurance, and from what you could tell, the quiet was proving to be more of a relief. Unfortunately, the quietness did not last long.

"NOOOO!" you heard a woman cry, followed by the piercing scream of a child.

That was only the first of many screams you would hear that day. As you advanced toward the main hall, the shrill screams crescendoed. Some came from a mom, but most came from the youth. Most of your companions stayed in the room, while others left in a broken state or muttering in disappointment toward their deceased kid. No matter the result, you could only feel disdain.

Before you knew it, you were the next to approach your husband. You could see Sukuna sitting on his throne as he looked at one of his sons. The boy could have been no older than two or maybe even three years of age, hardly old enough to understand what was going on, but you could tell that this boy would not have a happy ending. You had spoken to his mother before, and based on what you had heard, the boy was lacking behind the others in his age group.

You remember sitting in the garden with your twins one day, feeding them as you watched the slightly older kids play; however, there happened to be one boy in particular that had caught your eye. He had been chasing around one of his siblings before he collapsed, coughing up blood not too long after tumbling. You knew that the child was your competition, but out of the goodness of your heart, you approached the struggling boy, managing to keep your children in place to not disturb them.

You found no need to ask if the boy was alright—blood splayed out in the grass served as enough proof that he was not. You rubbed his back as he was stuck in a coughing fit, blood spewing onto the grass.

You looked around for the boy's mother, only to see that no one around was interested in assisting the kid.

The child sat there with you for a few minutes before you saw a slightly older woman making her way toward you, a look of worry etched upon her face. She immediately ran up and hugged her son before thanking you profusely for caring for him despite having responsibilities with your own children. Despite not needing your assistance anymore, she remained, telling you of his illness. From what you gathered, he had developed the problem not too long after the inspection the previous year, causing him to fall behind the other children his age in their physical health, meaning it would be harder for him to develop his cursed energy.

As you stood there, hearing the incoherent voices of the child talking to his father, you focused your attention on his awaiting mother. She played with her fingers, bit her bottom lip, and let her eyes tremble as her anxiety began to kick in. A little part of you wanted to go in and comfort her, but you knew you could not, so you chose the second-best option. In slight haste, you whispered in your attendant's ear, asking her a simple request. She was only gone for a second before making her way back over to your side.

On the far left side of the room, where the mother had been standing, you saw a female servant approach. She tapped on the mother's shoulder, whispering in her ear before escorting her out of the room. Sukuna, despite being preoccupied with his determination for the boy, had taken notice of her leave. His gaze followed her path to exit the room as she let out a few sniffles, trying to hide her despair, as she knew her son's fate the moment they had walked into the room.

The conversation between Sukuna and the boy continued. You observed the scene, patiently waiting as you nurtured your twins. The wait repulsed you. The more Sukuna dragged out the conversation, the more the boy's symptoms started to show. Fortunately enough, the torture came to an end when the boy coughed up blood on his father.

You watched as Sukuna looked down at himself, seeing the splotches of blood on his skin. The fear in the kid's eyes was evident as they widened in absolute terror at what he had done. Despite being very young, the child knew that his father wasn't much of a forgiving person. It did not take long for the tears to well up and spill from his eyes. You tried to remind yourself that the competition was being eliminated, but your morals wouldn't allow you to suppress the sympathy you felt.

What came next, you could hardly watch. The boy, despite his horror, plastered a smile on his face as he apologized to his father. Sukuna only sighed as he looked up to meet the boy's eyes. You could hear the whispers behind you as mothers conversed with each other. Some were of pity, some were of fear, and others of relief.

As awful as it sounds, you felt it would be best for the boy. His condition wasn’t getting any better. To wait another year, with his fate practically predetermined, would have been torture. There was no doubt in your mind that by the following year, he would no longer be standing within the temple. Right now, you could tell he was at peace with his fate, the saddening smile proving you so.

The next few seconds were quick. Sukuna uttered one last statement before putting the child out of his misery. It was silent— there were no screams or pleas for mercy. All you could see was blood spilling down from where the boy once stood and a slight clinking noise as something had clearly fallen.

It did not take long to hear the shuffles of servants rushing to clean up the mess to avoid any “complications” regarding attachments. Any belongings of a deceased child were discarded immediately as Sukuna was advised that it would be easier for a mother to move on and procreate once more when they were not reminded of their dead offspring. In a way, this method proved to work sufficiently, especially with the women willing to keep Sukuna pleased or the more vulnerable women. It kept them obedient. It kept them distracted.

Sukuna watched as the help slowly and efficiently cleaned up the mess, but the second he looked up and laid eyes on your form, it was clear that the man was too eager to wait any longer. You could see the smirk on his face grow and the gleam in his eye. The gesture should have given you relief, but it made you apprehensive.

"Come forward, Little Flower," Sukuna announced.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Sukuna beckoned to you. Despite your apprehension, you walked forward, keeping your head high to facade your uneasiness. As you approached your husband, you kicked an item, the clinking on the ground. You do not know what came over you at the moment, but some form of impulse caused you to slip the item into your shoe, hiding it underneath the sole of your foot.

In a matter of a few steps, you were standing before Sukuna. Unlike the other inspections performed, Sukuna was quick to stand, towering over your form. You could only stare into his eyes as he peered down at you, the grin on his face growing. Maybe it was due to the situation, but it was more unsettling than usual. Had he predetermined his decision? Was he going to take your children out of your care? The questions kept flooding your mind while keeping a straight face.

"You seem quite confident in yourself, Little Flower," Sukuna stated.

"I am as I believe I've shown enough skill in my ability to mother our infants," you responded, swallowing whatever anxieties you had.

The answer seemed to please Sukuna as he sat back down on his throne, grabbing your waist to stand between his legs. You knew he was teasing you at this point, trying to stir a reaction out of you, trying to rile you up. This was common for him to do with new moms. You did not know if it was for entertainment or a form of test, but it still made you uneasy either way.

"We shall see then, won't we?"

You watched as Sukuna went from looking into your eyes to looking at your twins. The babies were tucked snuggly in your arms, their heads turned into your chest to obtain warmth from your body. With one of his hands, Sukuna turned your son's head to achieve a better look, his teasing look turning into one of concentration. The two-faced man was gentle with his touches, something you had not known he was capable of, something you couldn't believe was in his nature.

He took his time, undoubtedly in no haste to proceed with the mandatory tradition. Just when you thought he had finished, anticipating him to pass your son back to you, he slithered one of his arms to take grasp of your daughter. You watched as the baby squirmed in his hold, attempting to shift into a comfortable position, letting out an occasional grunt as she did so.

Your heart was hammering against your ribs. Your chest started to develop a heave. Your hands began to grip the material of your kimono. You had never experienced fear as great as this.

"You never cease to amaze me, Y/n."

You almost sighed after hearing that glorious sentence, but you kept your poise as you bowed, ready to take your twins back into your arms. However, Sukuna never made it that easy for you. The four-armed man quickly pulled you onto his lap, handing your twins over as he plastered an all-too-familiar grin on his face. Before you could question his actions, Sukuna straightened his form, placing his back against his throne as he looked at the awaiting line of women and children.

"Listen well, women! This is where your standards should be. In a year of her time, Y/n has accomplished what the majority of you achieved in a decade here at the temple. She has even gone as far as surpassing you all. I suggest you all follow her example."

You didn't know how to feel about Sukuna's short speech. There was a chance that the man had placed a target on your back, but he could have also made you untouchable. His utterances of praise could be proved as both a curse and a blessing.

Once he had settled himself, you believed he would let you leave to inspect the next child— you were wrong. He held you in his lap and beckoned for the next mother to bring forth the child. He didn’t speak to you after that. He continued the rest of the inspection, caging you in a set of his arms.

To say you were horrified was an understatement.

What you had seen was gruesome and grotesque, but that isn’t what unsettled you. What truthfully left you distressed was your absence of physical and mental response. You were desensitized.

You watched as he slaughtered child by child. You felt his second mouth chew on the bones of his deceased kin. You heard the screams and cries of both women and children, some even calling to you to convince Sukuna to spare mercy. But no matter what, you felt absolutely nothing.

Had you really become that selfish?

You were always willing to get your hands dirty to keep yourself and your children alive, but you never imagined you’d have to shut down your humanity to achieve that; however, in a dog-eat-dog world, you would have to look out for number one.

So you sat there, watching body…

After body…

After body…

After body…

Stack up in the room without so much as a flinch. Not a word escaped your mouth, nor a yelp or gasp. You sat there motionless and silent as the chaos subdued into a conclusion. The dense silence was a dead sign that the event had ended.

You were shifted to sit between Sukuna’s legs, facing the mothers and children who had decided to wait in the room. You could see looks of great pride, looks of disappointment, and looks of grief. The sight alone could’ve made you cry, but you refused to let that happen.

There was no room for errors in your plan, such as letting your vulnerabilities show.

“What should I do with them?” Sukuna whispered in your ear discretely as he leaned down, almost making you jump.

“What do you mean?” You asked, trying to act oblivious to his question, although you knew fully what he meant.

“It’s relatively simple— should I spare their pitiful lives, or should I exterminate them? With what we created, there is no reason to keep them around; however, I leave that judgment entirely up to you.”

You could not help but widen your eyes. The power and jurisdiction Sukuna had given you were tempting and overwhelming. In a simple sentence, you could have the competition eliminated. Your mind was rushing with all the possibilities of your future if you went through with what Sukuna had offered. Knowing all the opportunities, you made your decision with ease.

"Spare them," you answered.

"What an interesting choice, Little Flower," Sukuna chuckled before sitting up straight, "Very well then."

Sukuna looked down at the forms in front of them, wearing a straight face as he examined each of their faces. With little to no expression on his face, Sukuna looked more fearsome. Nobody could tell what he was thinking or planning— any action that was to follow from his state of blankness would come unexpectedly.

"You should all be grateful to be standing here today. Unbeknownst to you, I just offered your companion a very tempting offer. However, she chose to spare your lives," Sukuna announced, "You should all be thankful."

You felt one of Sukuna's arms grab your waist, and you could feel his hand grasp your face as he pushed his cheek to yours. All eyes were now focused on you. Every movement was monitored and taken note of on both ends. If you were going to be truthful, you didn't know how to feel about the new-found attention— like you had mentioned earlier, Sukuna's praise was both a blessing and a curse.

You felt his Cheshire grin form as his face remained against yours. It was clear that he was pleased with what he had done. Whatever was brewing in his mind, you couldn't deduce, and quite frankly, you didn't want to. Even with your inquiries about the situation, you believed you would never follow up on them. Some questions were better unanswered.

"Ahem, Sukuna-sama, I believe it would be best to conclude this session," A person, whom you couldn't deduce whether they were a man or female, chimed.

You had seen this individual at the temple before, usually seeing him trail behind Sukuna. In many instances, you had assumed this person to be a personal servant to Sukuna, but if you were sincere, you thought they were more than that to the two-faced man. Possibly a close friend, sibling, or some sort of ally.

"I suppose you're right, Uraume," Sukuna sighed, straightening himself out again.

"This examination event is concluded. All of you may leave. Remember the words of caution I have so graciously given you. Dismissed!" The four-armed man announced, keeping his posture straight and intimidating.

With his confirmation, you stood, twins in your arms, making your way out of the room before you were yanked down into Sukuna's lap.

"Not you, Little Flower. I'm not finished with you yet."

At that instant, you didn't know what to think. Unlike the other moments you had been pulled aside, you did not feel anything. Your mind wasn't running with questions and fear— you were calm. If Sukuna had wanted to hurt you, he would have done it by now. If he found your children useless, he would have put them down the moment you approached him.

The room was empty and quiet as the two of you sat there, watching the last child leave. The silence encased the room after that. You made no effort to make eye contact, and neither did Sukuna. It was not out of fluster or fear but rather the peace in that silence. You couldn't remember the last time you had been left in a room where your mind wasn't running rapidly or where there wasn't some sort of commotion outside a set of doors.

"Walk with me," Sukuna blurted, allowing you to move out of his lap, babies settled in your arms.

You watched as your husband stood, motioning you to follow him as he made his way toward the main hall doors. It was quiet for most of the walk as he led you to who knows where. There was a moment you wanted to ask him about where he was taking you, but there was something about his blank expression that made you second guess yourself, deciding to continue trailing behind him until he released you to your duties; however, Sukuna took notice in your lagging behind, slowing down his pace while hovering one of his hands at your lower back to keep you from falling behind any further.

"We're here," the man announced suddenly, pulling you out of your own consciousness.

You watched as Sukuna opened a pair of grand doors, revealing a nursery; however it wasn't the nursery you were accustomed to. The room was relatively small compared to the other where you and the other mothers would care for your children, but it was size enough to fit at least a few groups of people.

"What is this? Are you relocating some of us?" you asked as you looked around the room.

"No, only these two. I believe they should be separate from the other offspring and their mother. They will be just fine with a wet nurse in the evenings."

The string you were working so hard to maintain snapped in that instant. You felt as if something overtook you, a shadow looming over you. The thought of you being isolated from your babies left you paranoid; moreover, the idea of a wet nurse taking care of them left you livid. No longer did you care if you upset Sukuna. He went beyond your line of patience when he suggested the concept of leaving your children in another's care.

“No.”

You swore that you saw all four of his eyes widen the slightest, and you were convinced that you even saw him smile a little, but with all the adrenaline from your sudden irritation may have easily made you see things. For a subtle instant, you wished you could have taken that singular word back, but the regret quickly flushed away as you remained glaring at your husband. This was the first time you had truly stood up against Sukuna, the man who was more than capable of wiping out a village in a matter of minutes— seconds if he pleased.

"disputing me? I have to be honest; I do not know how to feel about your sudden disobedience, but I'll entertain it. Why do you disagree with my plans?" Sukuna chuckled, inching himself closer to your straight form.

Selfishness.

"You know as well as I the betrayal and deception among the women in this temple; bribery, extortion, treachery, and other deceitful actions. I understand you are not a man of morals, but we can agree upon our children's interests. You said it yourself, they've been able to excel further than any of the other children, and I strongly believe that has been possible with my watchful eye and protection."

"You make a very fascinating argument, Little Flower. However, I still do not understand how this is beneficial if you do not tell me what you're proposing directly," Sukuna questioned.

You knew fully what he wanted to hear from you, and you were willing to give it to him. Though the words that would spill from your mouth would be distasteful, you had to come too far in the game to back out. The two cards you had set on the table were choosing between life and dignity— the choice was evident between the two.

Life.

"Sukuna, I beg of you. Please let the children stay with me until they are old enough to communicate their thoughts; this will benefit you. The time they spend with me will not be fruitless. I will educate them to the best of my ability, and when you deem them ready, they can begin whatever training you set out for them; however, during that time, I only have one request..." you paused, seeing if you should continue.

"And what would that be, Little Flower?"

"That you protect them with your life," you answered.

"And if I do not accept these terms," the man countered.

Your answer determined not just your life but your children's. You were starting to run out of cards to play, and you couldn't run out to get a new deck at the moment. With every option you looked at, there was risk involved, but all the safe options hardly guaranteed the future you were hoping for. It was a true gamble. So, in those last moments of desperation, you played your shot in the dark.

"Then I walk from this temple, twins in hand."

The silence felt like hours while, in reality, it was only a few seconds. In those few seconds of silence, you could not help but feel slight regret...who would not feel this remorse in your situation. Though you have faced life-or-death decisions in the past, this one way is by far the most alarming, and the stillness wasn't doing you any favors.

Then came the infamous chuckle, one of his more notable responses that could strike fear in the most powerful shaman.

“Seems that my Little Flower has grown some thorns, hasn’t she?”

You could only look at him as he approached, towering over you in his close proximity.

"Is this an attempt at proposing a deal, Y/n?"

Deal.

That word sent shivers down your spine, but not out of fear or disgust. It was a pleasant quiver. It wasn’t effortless to broker a deal with Sukuna, especially since you were merely another one of his, and as much as you hated to refer to yourself in such a degrading way, concubines. If it had been anyone else, you could guarantee that their head would be cut clean off by now, making it clear that you had something of value on the table to offer by the fact you hadn’t been decapitated at the moment.

“Yes,” you answered confidently.

“Straightforward as always, I see. I think that is what I love most about you. You never seem to dance around the question,” Sukuna quipped, looking down at you with a look you still could not deduce, “Fine, I’ll take you up on this deal, as it is of mutual interest, but I want something in return.”

You nodded, waiting to hear what he wanted to put on the table.

“I want your word that you never leave this temple unless it is under my supervision and say so. Unless I’m accompanying you outside those gates, you will remain here. Do we have a deal?”

Outings from the temple were usually uncommon, but they were on occasion, but only a select few would attend such expeditions. These women were commonly accompanied by a chaperone: maids, guards, gardeners, anyone from Sukuna’s staff but never Sukuna Ryomen himself. The man was not known for being someone to leave the temple for leisurely walks or to run a quick errand to the local market, meaning you would practically be bound to the temple for as long as he stayed in your village and bound by his side for as long as he or you lived.

This was your gamble.

Selling your life entirely over to Sukuna for the safety of your kin.

"Yes, we have a deal."

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia

[franzkafkagf]

Just a little disclaimer I’m not asking this question to try to come across as hurtful or anything like that. But I was wondering how as an Aegon-stan his treatment of women can make you have a very nuanced opinion of him? :o

- Personally I’m TB but do have empathy for some TG-characters. I do like Aegon as an antagonist and I do feel for his very toxic and harmful upbringing but due to his violent behavior towards women.. I just can’t really connect that well with him 🫣

Hi! Thank you for your ask :) Super interesting question actually! I have written some things for him in the past, talking about what exactly fascinated me about his character so much ( exhibit one, two three, four and five )

I also urge you to listen to Tom talk about Aegon; this man gets him as a character so well and says it better than I ever could. Some interviews found here, here and here

I can understand not being able to connect with him because of his treatment of Dyana— it's an unforgiveable thing he has done to her and might have done to others. But in spite of that, he is still just a character. Everything he does is meant to inform us about his certain traits he has, even the ugliest of things.

What does it tell us about Aegon? He is entitled, doesn't take things seriously, he is indulgent and does not see Dyana (or other smallfolk for that matter) as a real person (succession reference wink wink)

I wouldn't call his behavior towards women in general toxic though— I actually think he is somewhat demure when faced with women like his mother, Rhaenyra and also Helaena. He seems to kick down most of the time, while trying to get recognition from the ones he sees as peers or above him.

If you look at the culture he was raised in, it's not really a surprise he turned out the way he did, seeing women beneath him as something he can just take if he likes to. Westeros is cartoonishly misogynistic; traditions like First Night or the prevelance of brothels filled with women working under harsh indentures show that.

Young men of noble origin seem to see visits to brothels (again, filled with women that do not want to be there) as a normal past time activity; it's so prevalent that it's surprising if a young nobleman does not participate. Now, I do not want to excuse his actions, but seeing the culture he grew up him and the influences around him? -> He probably thinks this is normal behaviour, disturbingly.

On a bit different note, I want to talk about his relationships. A thought I see often echoed in the fandom is the headcanon that Aegon is violent towards Helaena when that... was never stated anywhere? Now I'm probably biased because I'm a big Helaegon girl but I don't see him being violent with his sister.

People say he impregnated her at 13 when.. he was also just a 15 year old boy? He did not want to marry her! Both literally did not and could not consent to what happened to them, I think it's so sad that people try to demonize a child who just did what was demanded from him from all the adults in his life :(

(like yes tell me about how one of these KIDS forced himself on the other out of fully selfish desire and pure evil. you're so smart and do not lack media literacy whatsoever)

The dinner scene literally shows Helaena laugh at Aegon's antics until he goes a step too far w Baela, and what does Helaena do? She clowns him in front of everyone with her toast. And what does he do? He just takes it... not the behaviour of an evil abusive man but the delulus will swear otherwise.

People will also try to twist her crying at the coronation as some depressive moment for her where she realizes that he will have the ultimate power over her when that's LITERALLY just a (very boring) headcanon. It's hinted at in the text and literally written out in the script that she is scared, because she knows what crowning him means; the dance cannot be stopped. That's all, that's why she's crying. She feels like their end is near.

All in all I think no one can change your mind on how you feel about Aegon; what he did IS unforgivable, but I hope you see a bit of my pov here too. Seeing the nuance in deeply flawed characters and digging to find hidden depths in them is something I'm very passionate about! My Aegon girlie mutuals and me will be feasting come season 2 🙏

[rocknrollsalad]

STWG Daily Prompt (Nov 16) - Baby

🍼 pairing(s): clarkson

👨‍🍼 Eddie wakes up to find a guest in his house he's not too sure about

👶 content/trigger warnings: vomit, babies

🚼 word count: 816

“Baby.” Eddie squished the letters into one barely understood sound as he stood in the kitchen of his trailer. Seconds ago his biggest problem was trying to decide if this was fresh morning sun or end of the day sun. “Ahhh. BABY!” 

With Eddie in the kitchen was Scott, an increasingly common sight, and Wayne cradling a baby, a bottle in the other hand. That was not a common sight. In fact, Eddie couldn’t think of a single time he’d seen it. While he knew better, very little about Wayne screamed the sort of man one should let hold small children. 

Anyone who had known him for more than a conversation knew that gruff was just silent and he wasn’t grumpy, he was somehow constantly tired. Wayne was the exact person one should let watch their children. Eddie himself was proof of that. 

That being said, Eddie hadn’t made Wayne a grandpa, and, god forbid, this was some new cousin or something. Eddie wasn’t going to share the spotlight. He hadn’t spent years training Wayne for some new little punk to reap all the benefits. 

“Astute,” Scott said with undeserved sarcasm. Especially for whatever hour this was. 

The comment earned him a look from Wayne but Eddie could almost swear it was pride when it should have been a biting warning not to mock the weak in their confused state. Eddie narrowly stopped himself from asking Wayne how he even knew what astute meant but common sense kicked in in the nick of time.

“She’s Scott’s niece,” Wayne offered in true Wayne Munson style. Smug in the words like his answer didn’t bring up dozens more questions. 

As Wayne slowly swayed where he stood, Scott watched on from a respectable distance. “My sister dropped her off and said if she didn’t get some sleep soon, she’d no longer be responsible for her actions.” 

“O-kaaaay but why is she here?” Eddie asked, daring to inch into the kitchen and try for a cup of coffee. A suspicious eye on the baby with each step. 

“Because someone doesn’t have a clue what to do and brought this poor thing over starving and in a dirty diaper,” Wayne said in the happiest, singsong voice Eddie had ever heard. He wasn’t talking to Eddie but explaining things to the baby knowing Eddie could hear. 

Coffee pot in hand, Eddie spins to look at Scott. “You work with kids, man.” 

“They aren’t babies!” he said, throwing his hands up and almost drowning out Wayne’s laugh. 

“I mean, are you sure there?” Eddie laughed, elbowing his uncle and trying to commiserate with him. Something met with stone-faced silence that had Eddie turning to the cupboard with mugs. 

“I’m not saying they’re adults or capable of logical thinking but there isn’t a soft spot on their head and to some extent, they are able to use the facilities without assistance,” Scott offered. 

“I can’t believe someone would be this scared of ya,” Wayne said, putting the bottle on the counter. 

“For the millionth time, I’m not scared of her, I'm worried I’ll hurt her or cause some other sort of irreparable damage. She’s fragile and my sister’s first kid. My first niece.” 

Wayne draped a kitchen towel over Eddie’s shoulder and then snagged the mug from his hand before he could add anything to it. There was a weak protest but Eddie knew the deaf ears it was falling on. Once that had passed, Wayne shifted Scott’s niece and passed her over to Eddie. 

All at once, Scott’s fears made sense. This was something fragile. Life someone else who didn’t even know Eddie existed had created and likely wanted to spend many, many years with. With the posture of a new recruit, all of Eddie’s muscles tensed as he got used to the weight against his chest. 

“Just rub her back and, I don’t know, relax? Y’don’t look comfortable, kid, and despite what Scott says, she isn’t gonna break.” 

“I don’t know why I came here,” Scott sighed. 

“Who else were you gonna ask?” Wayne laughed again and did something even more shocking than stand around holding a random baby. With his hand on Scott’s shoulder, Wayne leaned in and gave Scott a quick kiss. 

The shoulder touch was almost more contact than Eddie had seen them share, a kiss might as well have been watching them…God, he couldn’t even finish that thought. As if thinking the same as Eddie, the little powder scented bundle in his arms let out a burp that would make anyone blush, and with it she covered most of the towel draped down Eddie’s shoulder with spit up. 

“I’m out, nope. No way, man. This is not for me,” Eddie said. Getting both hands under her little armpits, arms stretched out as far as they could, and moving toward Wayne. 

“Grow up, the both of ya,” Wayne said, shaking his head as he moved around a heaving Scott. 

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is finally happy, and he knows it's because of you. The way you want to try new things with him in bed makes him feel wild. And the way you love his son makes him feel calm. But when you read a piece of mail before he's ready for you to see it, your reaction has him feeling something new.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, anal sex, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley anxiously awaited for his appointment with Tracy to begin. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she asked him to stop by on his way home from work, but he was here now. And he had his checkbook with him. 

"I owe you some money," he said when she finally called him back.

"Sure, but we have other things to talk about," she said, ushering him over to her conference table while she opened up a Red Bull.

His stomach lurched. "It is about Meredith? Is it bad?" He was finally starting to be able to enjoy every day he spent with you and Noah. He didn't have to worry about things constantly, because you were happy to help him with his son and his house. When he got home with Noah the other day, you were changing that lightbulb on the front porch that he'd been meaning to get to. And you kept trying to help him pay his mortgage. 

"Yes, it's about Meredith. Just have a seat."

Bradley sat and looked at her expectantly. "Has she been released or something? Do I need to call my girl?"

"No, no," she said, waving him off as she took a sip. "She's been sentenced."

Now Bradley's heart was really pounding. Tracy had told him that Meredith would most likely get five to fifteen years for the fraud charges. Five would be devastating, simply because Noah would still be a minor when she was released. Fifteen would be ideal. Noah would be over eighteen and a legal adult. A fight for custody or money would be a moot point. And well, if Bradley had another child with you, that would have nothing legally to do with his ex at all. 

"Please tell me this is good, Tracy. I just want to solidify my life right now exactly as it is. No more messing around with protective orders and broken windows. My kid is happy, and I am happy."

She smiled and said, "You're about to get even happier. Fifteen years." 

Bradley was out of his seat with his fist in the air immediately. "Hell yes! Any chance at parole?" he asked. 

"There's always a chance. We'll keep an eye on things." 

She and he talked for a bit after that, and he felt his body ease back comfortably in the seat. Bradley wrote out a check and left it with Tracy, and then she handed him a folder full of information on adopting a stepchild in California. And a second folder with a preliminary copy of his updated will.

When he got home with his checkbook in his hand, he found you and Noah in the kitchen, and both of you were wearing more peanut butter than the carrots on the cutting board in front of you were. But you were laughing, and so was he, and the house smelled like dinner was cooking.

"I'm home," Bradley said from the kitchen doorway, and you spun in surprise. 

"Hi, Daddy," you said as you rushed for him with your messy hands held out at your sides. "You're already done with Tracy?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss you as Noah brought him ants on a log. "Fifteen years," he murmured, and you leaned in for another kiss with a soft, pleased laugh. 

"Really?"

"We can talk more later," he said, keeping one arm around your waist as he lifted Noah up and opened his mouth for the messy carrot stick. He kissed Noah while he chewed and then said, "Thanks, Bub. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. We did a puppet show," he said before squirming out of Bradley's arm to go make a bigger mess. And that left Bradley holding you and his checkbook. 

"Casey asked me to say hi to you when I picked Noah up," you whispered with a little grin on your face as you reached for the checkbook. "I told her I would if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged this evening."

Bradley snorted. "You didn't."

"I did," you confirmed, waving his checkbook in the air between two fingers before tossing it onto the counter. "Who are you writing checks to, old man? I already told you, everyone uses payment apps."

"Tracy," he said. "I'm pretty sure she's older than me."

"Nobody is older than you, Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley took your wrists and guided both of your hands to his mouth. He watched your lips part silently as he licked the healed scar on your palm before sucking your thumb into his mouth. You squeaked as he cleaned the peanut butter from each of your fingers individually as you stepped a little closer to him. 

"Who you calling old?" he asked before kissing your palm and squeezing your hip. He made a show of switching to the other hand as you rubbed your core against the front of his pants. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned for him. "Shh," he scolded. "Behave." 

But you were only wearing thin scrub pants, and Bradley didn't actually want you to behave. One glance at Noah proved that he was absorbed with emptying a large canister of raisins onto the counter, so Bradley finished with your hand and then palmed both of your butt cheeks at the same time. He squeezed, really enjoying the feel of you as he whispered, "Are you wearing it?"

"No," you gasped. "I just got home from work!"

Bradley shrugged. "You've been wearing it around the past few days. Here and there."

You glanced at Noah over your shoulder before you whispered, "It makes me horny. I can't wear it to work! I'll get fired!"

Bradley chuckled and then he tightened his grip on your ass and said, "Go put it in."

Your teeth immediately sank into your lip. "Now?"

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Like my good girl."

You scampered off to the bedroom, saying, "Take the casserole out of the oven," as you went.

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

You knew to take your time with your silicone plug now. Use lots of lube and relax. As soon as you finished inserting it, you were practically moaning for Bradley to put his cock in your pussy. You were kind of addicted to the way it felt when he and the toy were both inside you at the same time. With a few deep breaths, you eased your underwear and your scrub pants back up your legs and made your way back to the kitchen. 

Bradley and Noah were sitting at the table with the casserole dish, and when you met your boyfriend's eyes, he was grinning. "Well?" he asked, reaching for your hand. 

"You know it, Daddy," you replied, and even though you weren't trying to, your voice took on a needy edge. 

He grunted softly, his eyes half lidded now as he patted the chair next to him. Noah was already eating his dinner, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice the way Bradley was looking at you like you were for dessert. You eased yourself onto the seat and whimpered softly as Bradley leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips. 

"I love you, Baby," he murmured before brushing your cheek with his nose. "I can't wait to take you to the lake house next weekend. We'll pack your little toy."

He started kissing along your neck, and you didn't think you'd make it through dinner at this rate. Your nipples were hard, and he was barely even touching you. Desperate for a distraction, you tried to reach for the casserole without rolling your hips too much.

"Daddy?" Noah asked. "Can we get a dog?"

"A dog?" Bradley asked, his attention shifting slightly from you to his son. "I already got you a Mommy, isn't that enough?" You snorted with laughter, but Noah was undeterred. 

"I want a dog."

"Noah, if we get a dog, somehow it will end up being my responsibility. Maybe when you're older," Bradley said. But he was pouting, and he looked like he was going to cry. 

"Daddy," you whined softly with a little grin. "I always wanted a dog, too." 

Now Bradley was looking back and forth between you and Noah, before settling on you. "Are you really going to do this to me right now? You could probably get away with murder at the moment, Princess."

"Isn't that always the case?" you asked sweetly as you shifted a bit in your seat and served yourself some dinner. 

Bradley groaned and held his forehead in his hand. "Can we talk about this later?" he begged, glancing at you between his fingers. But you were busy smiling at his son. 

"We'll work on it, okay sweet Noah?" you whispered. 

"Okay," Noah agreed softly before he started eating again.

But teasing Bradley about the dog definitely backfired on you later on the couch. Noah wanted to watch a Disney movie, so Bradley sat in the middle of the couch with your head resting on one thigh and Noah's on the other. The Princess and the Frog was playing, because Bradley insisted you deserved a princess movie. And everything was perfect. His hand was heavy on your side, stroking you through your clothing in the most delicious way.

When the movie was nearly finished, Bradley murmured, "Noah's asleep," as his hand skimmed along your hip. Then inch by inch, his fingers worked their way along your butt until he was cupping you with one big hand. Then you felt him prod you through your clothing, running one long finger across the base of your toy. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he very gently pressed it further into you. Full. You were so full. After days of wearing it for an hour here and there, you thought maybe you were ready for more. 

You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder and wiggled against his hand. The way he slowly shook his head and licked his lips made you feel like you were in control of this. But you supposed you always were. Then he eased his hand up to your lower back and teased at the waistband of your pants and underwear before dipping it inside. 

Rough skin on yours had your eyes fluttering closed. "Look at me, Baby," he whispered, and you clenched for him. "Look at me while I touch you."

You did as you were told, but he subtly let you know you were still in charge. His brown eyes were sincere and open as he cupped your rear end, moving the plug incrementally. Pushing, pulling, tugging and teasing. When you whimpered, he pushed his fingers forward to your pussy. 

"Daddy," you gasped as he pushed his rough fingers through your folds.

He spanked your pussy lightly until you were afraid you'd start getting loud. "Go get yourself in bed," he instructed. Then he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. When you rolled onto your belly, your cheek and hand rubbed against his cock in his pants. "I'll come take care of you in a minute."

"Yes, Daddy." You kissed Noah's cheek and then leaned down to taste yourself on Bradley's lips. Then you ran into the bedroom and tossed all of your clothing into the hamper, replacing all of it with a new matching bra and thong you paid for with his credit card. "Damn it," you whined. The toy was making you squirm for release, and you were half tempted to touch yourself. You were nervous, but only slightly, because you knew Bradley would do whatever you told him to. So you grabbed the lube from your drawer and settled onto your beautiful, new bed. 

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

Shit. You were already touching yourself when Bradley walked into the bedroom. Black lingerie, your purple plug peeking out, and you on your back with your fingers in your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. You looked so young and innocent, even with your ass full of that toy. Bradley couldn't believe the words he was about to speak out loud. "Will you let me fuck you in the ass?"

Wide eyed and writhing around on your back on the bed, you nodded at him. "Yes." He was determined to do this just right. He never wanted to hurt you. He always wanted you to feel good when you were with him. Carefully he removed his jeans and joined you on the bed with his cock hard in his briefs. 

"You've been teasing me with that toy all night," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips and pulling away so you'd chase him for more. "Time to see if you can handle something a little bigger."

You whined for him as he kissed down your body. "You're a lot bigger," you gasped when he nibbled on you through your bra. "You'll go slow?"

Bradley hummed against your skin, stretching up to kiss your neck. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. And if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Okay," you whispered. "Just go slow."

He could hear the slight edge of apprehension in your voice, so he took your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. He wanted to be sure this was a good type of nervous, not a bad one. "You are under no obligation to do this, Princess. You already give me more than enough." 

"I know," you replied, meeting his lips with yours.

But he pulled back and forced you to look him in the eye. "Tell me one more time that this is what you want. And tell me that you trust me."

You nibbled on your lip before you said, "I always trust you. And I want to try this. Now make me feel good."

Bradley was grinning as he slipped his hand down your belly and tucked it inside your black underwear. The swirl of his fingers on your clit had you gasping, and soon he pulled your underwear off. You were already wet when he put his mouth on you, and then Bradley thought about edging you to make you squirt for him. But your fingers were rough in his hair, and he knew he would be too far gone to be as gentle as possible if he did that. So he took his time, burying his nose and mouth in your sweet pussy, and licking you everywhere until you came for him. Then he licked all around that plug and admired the tight pucker of your hole wrapped around it.

"Fuck," he gasped, placing a kiss to your inner thigh. He was going to find out just how tight you were. As you rode the little jolts of pleasure still going through your body, Bradley carefully wrapped his arms around your back and got you onto all fours. "Try it like this?" he asked, caging your body in beneath his.

Your words were a little incoherent as you bucked back against him, and he could feel the base of your toy against his cock through his underwear. Oh hell, he needed to pull himself together. He needed something familiar to calm himself down. Bradley unclasped your bra and pressed his chest to your back, watching the strap slide down your arm. Your hips were rocking back, and he moved in unison with you, planting his left hand on the bed and rubbing your tits with his right. 

He kissed along your spine and moaned, "You'll put me in an early grave, I swear it." Your soft giggle had him dragging his lips along your shoulder until he was kissing your neck. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered, and it was the sweetest thing. So Bradley stood on his knees behind you, admiring the way you and that toy looked as he spread your legs wide. When he slid his underwear down, his cock bounced up to tap you, nudging the plug and making you groan. He didn't know how this was going to work as he pumped his hand along his girth before slipping himself into your pussy. And that was the familiar thing he needed, clearing his mind as you whined, "I feel so full. My toy and my Daddy."

Bradley smirked and rubbed himself against the base as held your hips. "Just wait," he warned playfully. The pretty curve of your back had him running his hand up and everywhere along your silky skin. Your hair smelled like wildflowers when he kissed your back. And then you were begging him to do it. 

He reached for the lube and drizzled it all over you before coating his cock liberally. Then he fucked your pussy with steady strokes as he carefully eased the toy out of you as you gasped. Your perfect hole gripped along the plug, and Bradley had to count to ten to calm himself down. "Baby," he groaned, tossing the toy aside. "You ready?"

"Yes."

His cock was shiny and slick, resting on his palm, and then he was pressing himself to your asshole, convinced you were going to tell him to stop. You were so tight, he had to bite down on his lip as he pushed. And then you were whining, "More. More," as you squeezed the tip of him so much, he was afraid he'd black out. 

"Princess," he growled, head tipped back as he pushed slowly. So slowly. He was dizzy from it, the slow pace driving him to the edge. "So tight. Holy hell." And then you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes were glazed over with need, and your lips were parted softly. 

"Feels good," you gasped, and he reached out to run his thumb along your lip. You kissed him. You were perfect. He pushed himself a little deeper, and you kissed his thumb again. He looked down to see himself buried inside you as you licked his thumb. 

"God damn it," he cursed, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He dipped his thumb into your mouth and whispered, "I can't last like this. Too fucking good. So tight." He was shaking his head, but you were nodding and swirling your tongue along his thumb. He withdrew an inch and thrust, and you started keening. 

If Bradley managed even ten strokes inside your ass, it was a miracle. He went slowly, but it was too much. And you were loud, spurring him on with his thumb tucked between your lips and pressed to your tongue.

Every time you tightened around him, he knew he was going to cum. He was just biding his time for a few more seconds, and then it was too much. He tried to keep his movements steady and fluid as he came inside you, but they were a little jerky. He was grunting your name over and over, trying to get himself under control. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice rough as he slipped his thumb out of your mouth. 

"Mmm, yes," you moaned. "It only hurt a little, and then it felt good."

Bradley brought both hands to your hips and stroked you as he started to gently withdraw from your body. And then his jaw went slack as you were puckered around his tip. It was going to look so pretty, he just knew it. 

"Baby," he whined when he pulled himself free. His white cum was at your opening, and he watched that first droplet as it slid down to your pussy and dripped onto the bed. You were oozing with his finish, and he was transfixed. 

You said his name and made to roll over, but Bradley kept you still with his big hands on your thighs. "Shh," he coaxed as another long drop fell to the bed. And then he licked you clean as you mewled and whimpered. He lapped up every bit of his cum as it leaked out of you, and he cleaned up your pussy as well. 

"Bradley," you whispered as he gently rolled you to your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled on top of you, careful to keep his full body weight from hurting you. The fucked out, exhausted expression on your face made him smile.

"You did so good, Baby."

"I know," you agreed. "I liked it."

His lips were ghosting over yours as he asked, "Do you need anything? Want me to get a shower ready for us?"

"In a couple minutes," you replied easily. And then Bradley rolled you both to your sides and snuggled you against him with one big hand on your ass.

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

You were just trying to get through your day at work on Thursday. You just needed to make it to Friday morning when the three of you would be driving up to the lake house to meet Mav, Penny and Amelia. But two of your coworkers were out sick, and you had to pick up all the slack. You even had to text Bradley and let him know you wouldn't be able to pick Noah up or start dinner. 

Bradley Daddy Bradshaw: Take your time. I'll make sandwiches for dinner. See you at home.

Once you had all of the exam rooms cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Kelly found you and said, "Go home. Enjoy your long weekend with your family. That little Noah is the cutest thing."

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, he knows he's adorable. It's getting to be a problem. See you next week." 

Then you made your way to your car and thought about how you and Noah were most definitely going to wear Bradley down, and soon enough you'd have a dog at home. You'd even been working on a shortlist of names for when that fateful day arrived. You picked up a few pet themed coloring books on your lunch break, and when you pulled into the driveway, you took the bag from the front seat. 

The mail truck was just pulling up to your house; he must have been having a late day, too. You walked to the curb to meet him, and he handed everything to you with a wave. As you walked up to the porch, you picked your envelopes out of the stack and left Bradley's separate. Great, your student loan statement was here. You couldn't wait to see how your last payment barely put a dent in things. 

"Hi," you called out as you walked through the living room. "Sorry, I'm so late." But when you looked into the kitchen, Bradley was still in his uniform, calmly making a turkey and cheese sandwich and cutting it into little triangles while Noah colored. 

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bradley rasped, and you kissed his shoulder through his shirt. "I'll make your sandwich next." But you'd already moved on to Noah, smothering him in kisses while he laughed. 

"Check out this dog themed coloring book," you said loudly, earning a glare from Bradley as you set it down in front of Noah. "Isn't this little brown puppy on the cover just adorable?"

"I want a dog," Noah whined as he opened the cover and got to work. You were betting you'd have a dog by next month. 

"Relentless," Bradley groaned, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. "Ready for the lake?"

"Yes. And definitely." He tried to hand you a sandwich on a plate, but you said, "Let me go through my mail first before I forget. I want to make sure I log in and make my student loan payment tonight before we leave in the morning." You took the sandwich from him and noticed that he looked a little timid now. "What's wrong?"

"Well. Nothing's wrong," he said quietly as you bit into the sandwich and then set it down again to open up your envelope. But he had you distracted, and you realized too late that you had opened a piece of his mail from Tracy by mistake. You skimmed along the page and you gasped as tears welled up in your eyes. 

I, Bradley Bradshaw, a legal adult of sound mind and competency, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament (hereinafter, “Last Will & Testament”) and do hereby revoke any and all wills and codicils heretofore made jointly or severally by me.

In the event I shall die as the sole parent of minor child(ren), then I appoint as guardian over minor child(ren)

You stopped when you read your name and dropped the papers to the floor as you burst into tears. "Bradley," you gasped, and he looked up from where he was putting mayonnaise on a slice of bread. You bent to pick up the papers, but you were so emotional, you could barely see, so you just sat on the floor next to them and looked up at him. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down and cupping your face in his hands. "Princess, tell me what's wrong."

You swiped at your tears with your hands and whispered, "You trust me that much?"

"What are you talking about, Baby?" he asked, and then he reached for one of the papers on the floor. "Your student loans?"

He was about to realize what you had read, so you quickly said, "I didn't mean to open it, I tore into the wrong envelope. I thought it was my student-"

Bradley silenced your sentence with a kiss as you sobbed. When he released your lips, you could still feel his nose on your cheek as you tried to get your breathing under control. "Yes. I trust you that much. If something happens to me, I know you'll take care of Noah."

You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him back onto his butt and climbed into his lap. "I would. I really would."

He held you close and softly said, "I was planning on telling you this weekend. The paperwork isn't finalized yet, but I can call Tracy's office and have it completed at any time."

You kissed him and said, "Call first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll call first thing tomorrow morning." He was smiling as you let your forehead rest against his. 

"Why are you on the floor?" Noah asked, leaning over the table to look at you both. 

Bradley scooped you up as he stood and set you down on your feet, but you kept your arms around him. "Mommy was just being silly, Bub. How about you put the crayons down and eat your sandwich." Then he kissed your hair and said, "You better eat your sandwich, too."

You took your plate and the mail to the table and sat down across from Noah. You watched him sip his milk through a straw cup and then eat all of the cheese out of the sandwich first. He was perfect. And you'd never have to be without him. Bradley trusted you with his child more than anyone else. And you knew he wanted to have another one.

As he sat down next to you with his own sandwich and a beer, you opened your student loan envelope and started to read. But you could feel his eyes on you as he sipped his Heineken. 

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked softly, wiping at at stray tear.

"Just read your mail," he replied. When you looked back down at the paper in your hands, you saw that instead of nearly ten thousand dollars, your balance due for nursing school was zero.

"What did you do?" you gasped, looking him in the eye. 

He just shrugged and bit into his own sandwich, smiling as he chewed. "Paid off your loans. Your interest rate was so high, you'd still be paying on them by the time you're my age. Which is dumb when I have the money to take care of it now."

"Bradley!" Your eyes were welling with tears again as you said, "You didn't have to do that!"

His voice was stern as you crawled into his lap again. "I trust you with Noah, one hundred percent. The money doesn't matter as much as that."

You let your head rest on his shoulder as you straddled his thigh, and his big hand was rubbing your back. "You still didn't have to," you whispered. "But thank you. And now I can help you with your mortgage and bills instead."

"You just save your money, and we'll figure it out later."

But you already knew you'd talk him into letting you pay for something. And the rest could go into a savings account for school for Noah. And anything leftover could be used to plan for the exciting future you were going to experience with the two of them. 

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

Daddy keeps on winning now. And Princess doesn't have to worry about the things that shouldn't matter. Next up, the lake house. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 37

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[lionheartslowstart]

POA

Something happened recently that has caused me to confront the fact that I am truly disabled. It's not that I didn't know I was, of course I have since the autism diagnosis, but I really, and I mean really, got hit in the face with it.

I'll explain.

I can't go into too much detail regarding the actual circumstances, but the long and short of it is that I had to give my parents power of attorney in order to solve a housing issue. I trust parents completely and I know it's not something they would ever abuse. They made it clear to me that should I ever want to dissolve it, we could do that, and that the sole purpose for getting it was to avoid any houses issues now and in the future.

We had to go to a lawyer's office to sign the document and have it notarized. It was all very official. Afterwards, I drove home, sat on my bed, and just cried.

When I received the autism diagnosis, I was diagnosed with Level 1 autism. Autism is divided into 3 different levels. However, in my research, these levels seem to pertain strictly to social skills. In this way, yes, I am a Level 1 autistic. But if we're talking about "functionality," I'm not so sure I can qualify as Level 1 anymore. (Seriously, why IS it split by social ability? That's stupid.)

I'm 30 years old, and I'm still financially dependent on my parents. At this point in my life, I can't work a full time job. As a result, I will never be financially independent, and I will never be able to afford housing on my own. I say "at this point," because maybe one day that will change, but I doubt it. And for the record, I count myself lucky I can at least work a part time job, because 85% of autistics can't work at all.

Autism is a developmental disability, and I feel that as I'm getting older, it's become more obvious. Because I'm staying the same. I mean, obviously not completely the same. I've learned and grown and matured, and my friends who have known me for over a decade always comment on how much I've changed, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I feel like an adult and a child at the same time. I mean there are certain things I can't DO, certain things I can't retain or process, because my brain just won't let me. For example, I can't set up health insurance by myself. Every time my mom tries to explain it to me, my brain glazes over. That's the best way I can explain it. And I swear, I am trying SO hard to pay attention. I can't help it. My brain just...won't.

If this is what my life looks like when I'm 30, what is it going to look like when I'm 50? 60? 70? Not good. Not a good quality of life at all.

I'm so jealous of my friends and family. I don't understand how they do it. Even my other autistic friends are able to work full time or go to school full time without incident. (I did go to college full time but I almost ended myself like 3 times and I had to take a LOT of time off throughout.) It makes me feel guilty and bad. Like a loser. A failure. And yes, I know that autism can look different in everyone. I guess this is just one of the ways it affects me personally. But even so, it's painful to watch everyone around you be fully independent, and for whatever reason that's just not you. I mean, I'm independent in other ways. I can live by myself, make my own appointments, work part-time, and form meaningful relationships. I'm really trying to focus on those things instead, but it's been difficult to stay positive. I feel like financial independence is pretty major.

I want to interject here and say that I am insanely grateful to my parents. I know how blessed I am. They are my biggest supporters, both emotionally and financially. They love me so much, and if I didn't have them I'm certain I'd be homeless, probably long dead. I know that most people don't have parents like mine, let alone autistic people. I thank them all the time and tell them how guilty I feel and reassure them that I'm not lazy or spoiled, that I take their support very seriously. And they always assure me that they know, and not to worry about it, and they just want me to be happy.

But I do worry about it. My parents have wasted so much money on keeping me alive, it makes me physically ill. If I wasn't around, they'd have more money in their pockets for other things. They wouldn't have to worry about me all the time. I genuinely feel like they'd be better off without me, at least in the long run.

Like I said, the thoughts have been real dark lately, y'all. I've been extremely depressed since we instated the POA. This is my reality.

I don't know if my friends will still want to be friends with me in 10 years. Even my autistic friends. I don't like that I'll most likely never be financially independent. It is my greatest shame and I wish so badly it wasn't true.

People who insist autism is a fad and that people fake it for attention or whatever can eat my entire ass.

I would do anything, and I mean anything, to not be autistic.