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#Mom loves the kitten so it should be okay
yakamozarda · 29 days
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I wonder what type of cat mavis will grow into. He is very cuteee
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roosterforme · 9 months
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Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Seventeen and a half years later...
"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest. 
"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"
"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."
Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."
"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache. 
"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"
You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."
"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace." 
Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.
"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."
"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."
"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."
"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand. 
With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter. 
"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."
A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.
"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement. 
"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.
"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."
"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.
WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?
by Harrison Boyd
June 27, 2039
From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping. 
When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."
Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"
You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."
Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.
So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"
"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."
"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."
"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."
While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."
During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher. 
It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."
The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."
Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."
"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."
When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."
When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."
Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."
You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder. 
"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."
You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."
So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.
When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."
Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team. 
If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids. 
"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."
"I'm ready."
Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.
You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."
"Okay, Coach."
When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."
"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago. 
"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"
"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it. 
"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."
But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"
"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."
The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."
"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. 
"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."
"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."
"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.
Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him. 
Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"
Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."
"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.
As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."
You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.
"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."
Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."
"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.
"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?" 
"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."
His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."
"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."
And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.
"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"
"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."
"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"
"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."
"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."
"He did," you confirmed for Everett.
"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."
"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday." 
But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement. 
"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"
Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."
"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.
"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."
Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."
So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family. 
Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."
Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"
He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"
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Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)
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Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
Still want more? Read Draft Day!
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958 notes · View notes
ma1dita · 2 months
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do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest
🐥
also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)
wc: 860
Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.
Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.
He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.
In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.
Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.
“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.
“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”
“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.
“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”
He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”
“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”
Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.
“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.
“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.
“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”
“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”
“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.
“Luke! Put me down!”
But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.
“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.
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yizmiu · 10 days
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i’m not sure if you do requests but i was wondering if i could request enhypen boyfriend sunghoon fic where sunghoon goes from not caring at all for cats to becoming the proudest cat dad you could ever imagine when his girlfriend brings home a cat out of no where.
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ི꒰͡ ໋. kitty-incident!
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎inwhich. sunghoon doesn’t understand his girlfriends love for cats but after she suddenly brought one home he’s kind of forced too…
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎࣪genre. fluff, sunghoon x f!reader, dog person sunghoon, cat person reader
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎word count. 1k+
ᯇ ೀ jayjay’s note; hiii so sorry for the long wait, i was having trouble finding out on how i should write this! it’s a mix of smau and a drabble!
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Sunghoon sighed, staring at the little kitten on the floor next to his feet. Y/n, his girlfriend had impulsively bought the kitten home from a shelter without even telling him she was doing so. It’s not like Sunghoon hated cats, he was just more of a dog person.
Now, he was just told he had to watch the kitten for a couple hours. “You’re cute, but I’m still mad at you for scratching our couches. I can’t believe your mom just showed up with you and didn’t tell me.” Sunghoon glared at the cat as he spoke.
The kitten, named Yureum (chosen by the both of them) could sense Sunghoon’s passive aggressive energy from the day he entered the house. Since then he’s been acting like a little asshole to him, tearing up the furniture, knocking down Sunghoon’s things, and walking over the keyboard while he was trying to work.
Sunghoon rarely pet his ‘child’ because Yureum always made sure to nip and scratch at him out of spite. So when he suddenly started purring and rubbing against Sunghoon’s leg he was surprised.
Sunghoon figured he needed more attention, and he started to feel bad so he shut his laptop, taking a break from his work to sit on the couch with Yureum following behind.
“C’mon” Sunghoon said as he picked the kitten up with both hands, placing him on his lap. “You’re so cute, if only you weren’t a little jerk to me.” Sunghoon sighed as he gently caressed him.
Sunghoon yawned as he placed Yureum next to his head as he laid down, getting sleepy. “I’m gonna take a little nap, your mom should be home in 15 minutes.” He said as his voice started to slur.
Yureum stared at the sleeping figure in front of him for a little, a little tired himself so he snuggled up against his owner. Fitting perfectly in the gap between his chest and arms.
Sunghoon heard flashes and clicks as he began to wake up from his sleep, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend taking photos of him. “What are you doing?” He said groggily. “Look! You and Yureum.” Y/n shoved the phone in her boyfriend's face.
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“Y/n—Achoo!” Sunghoon cut himself off with a sneeze. “Are you okay, baby? You’ve been sneezing a lot.” Y/n asks in concern as she hands her boyfriend a tissue.
“What if I've developed an allergy to cats? Yureum has been clingy to me recently, what if the little shit got me sick.” Sunghoon suggested. “I know you don’t like him much but what kind of excuse is that? I mean it could be possible though…” Y/n lost the train of thought thinking about the possibility. “He just loves you a lot, he cuddles with you a night more than me.” She pouted as she crossed her arms against her chest.
“I kind of wish he didn’t…I just have been getting itchy around him a lot.”
“I can make an appointment for you later today, just take some of my allergy pills and you’ll be okay.” Y/n said as she walked over to the kitchen to fetch her allergy pills. She herself was allergic to cats but she didn’t mind.
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Turns out, Sunghoon really was allergic to cats. He tried to keep his distance after learning so. He doesn’t know how Y/n deals with it.
But It was hard when the damn cat was always by Sunghoon’s side. When he was sleeping, when he was working, hell even when he was in the bathroom. He followed him everywhere.
“Yureum! Seriously, I’m just getting up to get water.” Sunghoon groaned as the cat purposefully stuck himself to his owner by digging his claws into Sunghoon’s knitted sweater. “Don’t follow me.” He said firmly, placing the cat down after detaching it from him.
Yureum sat and stared at his owner as he walked away, deciding to ignore his wishes and follow him anyway.
“Oh my god! Yureum, I almost stepped on you.” Hoon complained as he looked at the cat that was now by his feet. “You have food and water, I was just petting you, what more could you want?” Hoon asked the cat. He looked crazy right now, he’s talking to a cat.
Yureum’s head slightly turned to the right. Taking little steps to get to his ankles, purring against them softly.
Sunghoon sighed as he picked his cat up. “God, I’m surprised I’m not dead already.” He carried the cat to the shared bedroom between him and his girlfriend.
“Are we out of allergy pills?” Y/n asked, looking up from her laptop. She was currently working on a project for work and wanted some alone time.
“Almost. I’m tired and I can tell Yureum is too.” He set the cat down before he laid himself on the bed next to Y/n. “He keeps following me everywhere, I don’t know why. He’s your cat. I’m more like his babysitter.” He sighed.
Y/n gasps. “He is our son…and it’s because he likes you, Hoon. More than me actually…it’s kind of surprising.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “See.” She pointed out as the cat was currently cuddling up to Sunghoon and not her.
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“Hoon! I know you’ve been tired a lot recently and you’ve been wanting a break from Yureum so I got someone else to watch him! You can go and hang with the guys tonight.” Y/n said as soon as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Sunghoon spit out the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. “Who is it?” He asked as he put his toothbrush away. Y/n unwrapped her arms, grabbing the hairbrush on the bathroom counter. “It’s one of my coworkers, he said he loves cats and he has a day off today so he agreed to watch him.” She gently brushed her hair as she looked at the man in the mirror.
“Yes, but who?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Doyoon.” Y/n said hesitantly.
Sunghoon’s eyes slightly lit up, he knew he was the said coworker. “Actually, the guys aren’t going out today. I can watch Yureum.” He said nonchalantly.
Even though Sunghoon could use his day off to hang with his friends he still decided to look after their cat every single saturday. Purely because he doesn’t want Kim Doyoon, who has a massive crush on his girl, to look after their cat. In bold their cat.
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enhypen m.list — enhypen taglist (open) : @yenqa
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landosfolklore · 4 months
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say don't go | cl16 (pt. 1)
i'm holding out for hope for you to say "don't go"
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: you're dating ferrari formula one racing driver, charles leclerc. life should be good right? maybe it would be if you got to actually see him more. what will happen if he continues to disappoint you?
notes: angsty, based loosely on the song 'say don't go' by taylor swift, ignore inaccurate timestamps!
જ⁀➴ part 2
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your boyfriend was the complete package. sweet, kind, loving, and a gentleman through and through. you loved everything about him, except for the fact that the two of you hardly spent any time together these days. you knew he was a formula one driver and had to constantly travel for work, and even when he was on break, he had training to do. you were very considerate and understanding of the demands of his job. it's not like you were asking to be with him 24/7 or anything.
it seemed like before the two of you started dating and at the beginning of your relationship, he made time for you. but in recent months, it was like you were in a one-sided relationship, as you made an effort and he seemed unbothered at the thought of not seeing you for a long time.
you mulled over it with your girlfriends who had different opinions varying from "dump his ass" to the more rational "sit down and have a conversation about it". so you decided to take your certified mom friend's advice and speak to him about it.
you wanted this conversation to go a certain way. you knew having expectations weren't a good idea, but this was charles. you would tell him how you've been feeling, and he would apologize. he would make things right. it would all work out. he would tell you he loved you, right?
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you went to the market and bought everything you needed and decided to grab some flowers and candles too. you made up your mind; tonight would go smoothly. you and charles would make up, and all would be well.
when you got back to the hotel, you immediately got down to cooking and preparing the meal and dessert. you finished almost everything around 7:40 and went to get ready. you decided on a pretty maroon dress and kitten heels and put on light makeup with your signature red lipstick that you knew charles loved. you went back to the kitchen and started setting everything up at the table.
it was now 8:25, so you plated all the food and made everything perfect. once you were done, you looked at the clock. 8:32 it read. hmm, well, he was occasionally a latecomer. you covered the food in the meanwhile and took a seat to wait for him. you checked the time again. 8:40. okay, what was 10 minutes, right? you had a bad feeling deep down but pushed it away. you had already manifested how tonight was going to go down. nothing would ruin it.
another few minutes passed by, and you sighed, giving in to at least sending him a text.
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you sat patiently... or tried to at least. to be honest, you were getting a little annoyed but also worried. what if something had happened? one part of your brain asked you while the other nagging part of your brain scoffed and said he's probably out with friends. you didn't want to listen to the nagging part of your brain any longer.
but as you looked at the clock again and saw it was 9:20, you didn't know what to think. you bit at your nails as you tried calling him. voicemail. and voicemail again. and again. now you were really worried. god, what if he'd been in an accident? or robbed? or... something. you had a tendency to think of the worst possible scenarios; charles always joked that it was a gift. it was more of a curse, honestly.
you put your phone down on the table, biting at your nails again. you battled internally on what to do. you picked up your phone again and called lorenzo, his older brother. he told you he hadn't spoken to charles since yesterday and asked arthur if he spoke to charles. arthur said they had spoken that morning and he said he had a team meeting and was gonna train for a bit after then have dinner with you. you thanked them both and hung up.
you started pacing the room. it was 9:40 now. no sign of him yet. no call. no text. god, please let him be okay. maybe you should run down to reception and see if they've heard anything. no. why would they know anything. maybe you should call joris. YES. why didn't you think of that sooner, you facepalmed. voicemail. what. his phone could not be going to voicemail right now. he always picked up the phone. c'mon joris, pick up the damn phone, you thought to yourself as you called again. but to no avail. all you got was his voicemail again.
just as you plopped down on the couch, running your hands through your hair, you heard the door's keycard beep. your head quickly turned towards the door. and lo and behold, it was charles, being carried in by joris and max verstappen. giggling. fucking giggling as you were worried sick.
max and joris greeted you and apologized for charles' condition. you waved off their apology and offered to take care of him as they laid him on the couch. as max stood up straight, he noticed the table. "fuck, i'm so sorry. if i knew you two had plans, i would've told him to come back to you," he sighed. "shit, charles. why didn't you say anything?" joris glared at the sleeping monegasque man.
he clearly went out tonight. knowing the two of you were supposed to have dinner. you were so angry. but also exhausted because of the stress. you thanked the two men for taking care of him and bringing him home then bid them goodnight.
sighing, you went to the room and changed into your pajamas. coming back to the living room area, you heard his snores. you smiled faintly. he always snored so loud when he was drunk. you exhaled and walked over to him. you shook him lightly to get up so you could help him to bed. he groaned a bit but eventually was semi-awake enough for you to get him to bed.
you helped him out of his clothes, tucked him into bed, then slid in beside him. as you nestled in, you looked at his beautiful face. god, you really loved him. but you knew what you had to do. the only way you would stay now is if he fought for you. you turned to stare at the ceiling, lost in your thoughts. eventually, you fell asleep.
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seivsite · 9 months
Text
CAT IN THE HAT
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includes: lyney x gn!reader. lyney is jealous of an orange cat you adopted, use of lots of pet names ( sweetheart, love, darling, etc. ), established relationship — wc: 383
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“Sweetie, love? Darling~” Lyney called out from your shared bedroom, but to no avail, you didn’t respond.
“Sweetheart?” he tried again, finally walking towards the bedroom to find you.
“Aren’t you the cutest? Oh, yes, you are, awee,” you mumbled, playing with the small kitten that both Lyney and you had saved.
Lyney sighed, realising that all of your attention had been taken away by a simple cat, which had him huffing in jealousy. He stomped his way towards you, gently taking the kitten out of your grasp and placing it with the kitten’s mom in their cat bed, which was a bit further away from the bed.
“Lyney! Be gentle with him!” you exclaimed, as the kitten meows profusely after being taken away from your comforting arms.
“You can’t steal my sweetheart like that, okay?” Lyney teased the cat, causing the feline to playfully scratch his face.
“Ow!”
...
“This is why you shouldn’t be so aggressive, look at you!” you exclaimed, unintentionally pressing the cotton ball with alcohol onto his skin harder than needed, causing Lyney to hiss at the sting.
“Sorry,” you said, moving the cotton away from his face as he winced, finally getting a band-aid to cover the little scratch.
“Pay attention to me then,” Lyney boldly declared, a serious look in his eyes.
You were taken aback by the sudden change in his expression, sighing softly.
“You should stop getting so easily jealous, Lyney,” you gently chided, pressing a loving kiss on his lips.
“Hmph, maybe I would if you stopped paying so much attention to that darn cat,” he complained, pouting and holding you tightly in his embrace.
He picked up the orange feline, who went limp in his hands, and placed it onto the bed.
“See this cat? There she is, and…” he waved a blanket over the cat, “there she’s gone!"
“I—Lyney!” you exclaimed, moving the blanket to see the cat had indeed disappeared.
“Fufu, worry not, my dear, the kitten is right here,” he mused, holding up his hat which concealed the little feline, peacefully playing with a piece of yarn.
“You almost gave me a heart attack!” you scolded, lightly smacking his arm.
Lyney only poked out his tongue in a teasing manner, glad that he had your attention on him now.
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NOTES. this prob feels rushed but yuhhhh hope u like it xion
TAG LIST. @gojoroui
LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3
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luveline · 10 months
Note
Lovely Jade maybe you could write something about Roan finding a kitten on the street and hiding it in her backpack
🧡.
thank you so much for your request! eddie and roan —roan's acting suspicious. you and eddie investigate. stepmom!reader, 1.5k.
Roan comes in through the front door with a sweet smile. Living in your cul-de-sac has meant you don't mind too much if she wants to go out to play alone, where before Eddie would insist on sitting on the porch of the trailer, worried someone would come barrelling down the road seventy miles an hour. 
"Hi, princess," you say, leaning down with your arms propped on the counter. You're putting the finishing touches on a drawing using the sunshine. Nothing special, just a sketch for fun. 
"Hey, mommy." 
You preen at the title. Being a stepmom is awesome, especially when she feels comfortable enough to call you mom. "Is it home time for Georgia?" 
"Yeah, she's gone home for dinner." 
"Are you hungry? Daddy's still at Uncle Gareth's, so I'm in charge of food."
You turn around when you get no answer, waving your pencil at an empty kitchen. "Roan?" 
"I'm coming back!" She shouts from the top of the stairs. 
You raise your eyebrows. "Okay!" you shout back. "I get to choose dinner, then? What's that, you want chicken pot pie?" You smile. Eddie loves chicken pot pie, especially when you make it. 
You put your sketchbook and pencil case on the kitchen table and spray down the countertops. The motions of cooking are well worn now; you know how to make every recipe for two and a half people. You wash your hands, grab the canned puff pastry, and get to work. 
Roan appears again as you're spreading a little bit of flour over the counter, running to the sink. She kicks her stepping stool to the counter and climbs up to wash her hands. She looks cagey.
"Anything I should know about?" you ask.
Roan squirts dish detergent into her palm, strawberry scented rivulets running between her little fingers before she's had time to rub it in. You set aside your rolling pin and pick up the soap to put a small dollop of it in her other hand.
"Say?" you ask, stroking her bedraggled hair away from her face. 
"Nothing for you to know about." 
You turn her head to yours, water spitting at your shirts as she washes her hands hurriedly. "Hey." You frown, gaze narrowing on a bloody scratch that's caught the bottom of her right cheek. "Aw, bubby, what happened?" 
"It doesn't hurt," Roan says flippantly. 
"You're gonna have to let me wipe it clean, still. Okay?" 
"Yeah, mommy. Whatever you want." 
You bite the inside of your bottom lip to tamp down an embarrassingly huge smile. "Okay. Good girl on the hand washing, you gonna help me make dinner, huh?" You kiss the top of her head. "I'm so lucky, my girl's so helpful." 
"Can I go get changed first?" she asks. 
"Yeah, bub. Want help?" 
"No!" she shouts hopping down off of stool. She'll probably have to wash her hands again when she returns, but you're too happy to care. She's gorgeous, she's a sweetheart, and she loves you like a mom. 
You turn back to the pastry and roll out the bottom of the pie. You'll refrigerate it while you make the chicken filling and the roux. Which one to make first? You might have done things in the wrong order. 
"Ro, are you almost done?" you shout, blinking back to attention. "Let me look at that scratch, babe!"
Arms around your waist. You thought you heard the door. 
"What scratch?" Eddie asks, dipping his face down to the juncture of your neck, where he plants a warm kiss. 
"On her cheek. I let her go out with Georgia, I hope that's okay. Only in our street." 
"That's okay," he assures you. He hugs you with kind arms, not squeezing like he tends to, completely and utterly loving. You can't hug him while your hands are covered in flour, leaning back instead to soak in all his affection. "What's the scratch from?" 
"Yet to be determined." 
Eddie hums and holds you. You cave in to dirtying him, painting his forearm with white fingerprints as you hug it to your ribs. You let your head flop back, tickled by his exhales where they kiss your neck. 
You and Eddie stand there in quiet bliss. Then, from upstairs, you hear a strange sound.
"Is Roan back in her cat phase?" 
Eddie tilts his head away from you. His hand retreats from your abdomen where it'd been resting, braced on your hips. "Ro…" He groans. "Not again." 
"Eddie?" 
He takes your hand. "She has a cat in her room." 
The meows become clearer the further Eddie leads you up the stairs. You wipe as much of the flour on your hands onto your pyjama pants as you can, but it's a mess. Eddie can't complain —how often does he get car grease on you? 
"Roan Ayla Munson," Eddie says through the closed door. "I better not find anything in there that I'm not supposed to."
You startle at the use of her middle name. You didn't even know Roan had a middle name until a couple of months ago; you always thought Eddie skipped giving her one. Apparently he thought Ayla was the same as Aella, an Amazonian fighter who wielded twin axes. Ayla, in contrast, means a few things. Bringer of light, in Finnish. Circle of light around the moon, in Turkish. Oak tree, in original Hebrew. You love all three definitions, but bringer of light feels most accurate. 
Bringer of cats might be more astute at the moment.
"I don't have anything, daddy!" 
Meow. 
"I think you're lying to me. Last chance, bubby." 
A vehement shushing noise, a meow, and a defeated sigh sound through the door. Weight hits the floor, footsteps creeping closer. You and Eddie wait in apparently very different moods for her to open the door. 
Roan holds a wriggling kitten in her small hands. She's wearing a nightgown over her sweatpants like she'd started changing and forgotten. Her arms are covered in red scratches. The kitten yowls when it sees you and Eddie, likely finding you both to be more intimidating than your poor girl.
"Oh, babe," you fret breathlessly, "Eddie, take the cat." 
"Dad–" Roan starts. 
"Look at your arms," he interrupts with a tandem worry, taking the kitten from her.
You pick Roan up with ease, careful not to touch her pale arms. She tries to explain herself as you carry her down the stairs, "I found her behind Old Man Michael's house, she looked so sad and you said we should be nice to everything we meet, even if we don't like the way they look," she says. 
"I meant about spiders and ants and stuff," Eddie says, holding the angry cat in front of his chest cautiously. "You know, we don't have to kill little creatures if we don't have to. I didn't mean you should kidnap kittens." 
"She looked hungry." 
You put Roan on the clean bit of counter between the stove and the sink and frown at her arms. "Sweetheart," you murmur sympathetically, "don't these hurt?" 
"Well, I…" 
You shoot Eddie a look. He stares the kitten in the eyes rather than meet your own, seemingly distracted. Fine, you'll try parent by yourself, even if you're no expert yet. 
"What?" you ask patiently. 
"I was hiding her in my backpack, but she didn't like it. She thinks it's too small." 
"I bet so." You're thinking, Eddie, what are we gonna do? And, Ouch, these are going to hurt. "Ro, is this how you got the scratch on your cheek? You're lucky he didn't scratch you in the eye." 
"I think he's a girl," Roan says. 
This is less important to you than the scratches, but you amend yourself anyways. "She could've blinded you." 
"I think you're in trouble, Ro. We already talked about this before, didn't we? No stray cats in the house," Eddie says.
"I already told you, dad! Rufus and Steve let themselves in, I didn't used to do that." 
You wash your hands swiftly and grab the first aid kit from under the sink, pulling out the blue disinfectant spray that Roan hates. She winces at the sight of it as you expected, pulling her arms against her tummy. 
"It won't hurt anymore than the scratches did when the kitten did them," you say gently.
Roan shakes her head. 
You put the disinfectant between her knees and lean in. "I'll make daddy make cookies, yeah? You be brave and let me clean your scratches and we'll have warm cookies and ice cream."
Eddie breaks out of his stare off, taken aback. "It's her own fault," he says, though he's smiling. 
"She was trying to do a good thing. And look at her little arms, Eds, hasn't she been punished enough?" you ask. 
The kitten kicks its legs weakly. "What the heck are we gonna do with her?" Eddie asks. 
"We could keep her," Roan says. 
"Don't push your luck, Roro." 
You lift the disinfectant spray. Roan seems apprehensive still, so you look her head on and wink. "I'll try my best," you whisper.
Roan holds out her arms with a grin.
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goldeunoias · 10 months
Note
Pls something about step-cest with Hee or dub-con would be great. I would love it.
(Sorry for my bad english)
A/N: why not both~ (your English is better than mine don't sweat <3) lmk if you like daisy's descent into darker kinks (since i absolutely love ish like this asdfasfd)
(they're both adults btw Im using the whole kids don't move out until their married thing here so bOTH ADULTS)
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He'd been waiting for so long.
For you to show up at his bedroom door, with salty tears running down your face. For you through heavy breaths tell him you got made fun of at work for being inexperienced. For you to look at him with such innocent eyes wondering what you should...
"Do you want me to show you what being touched is like?" Heeseung cooed at you gently, wiping tears away from your soft cheek. He noticed your hesitance but that didn't sway his motives in the slightest, already leaning in.
"You can just push me away if you don't like it mkay sweetheart?"
You swallowed thickly and gave him and nod, body tensing up as he kissed you softly. Your body felt tingly as he slid his tongue into your mouth, Heeseung's mind going insane at how sweet your saliva tasted and how warm your mouth was.
You were doing your best to keep up with his pace but your head felt dizzy, pulling back to come up for air. Heeseung could only chuckle at how heavy your breathing was and how your lips were coated with his saliva, his possessive streak taking over him.
"Here, I can show you other places that feel good okay princess?"
"S-should we really be doing things like this?," you couldn't help but wonder as Heeseung took off his shirt and went to undo your work button-up, his hands roughly massaging your chest through your bra.
"Who better to touch your soft delicate skin than the person you trust the most, right sweetpea? See," he remarked, pulling down your bra and flicking an erect nipple. "Your body is reacting to me because it was made for me. Does your body get like this with any other man?" he pushed, bending down and aggressively sucking your boobs while fondling one in his other hand.
You flinched and then melted as his textured muscle swirled around your soft nipple, skilled hands tugging the other one as you said "no".
"Lay down at the foot of the best sweetpea," he ordered through a slightly sinister smile, using his strength to pry your legs open. You squirmed around a bit at his intense stare and Heeseung glared at you and lightly slapped your covered core, earning a shaky breath for you.
"Keep still sweetpea, otherwise I don't want to punish my sweet kitten right?" He asked as he pulled down your underwear, sliding a digit in rather forcefully.
Your breath got caught in your throat and you bit down onto Heeseung's shoulder as your walls molded to his digit, Heeseung's breath hitching at just how soaked you were.
"Shit sweetpea, you're sopping wet. I wonder if Mom and Dad will hear what a slut your cunt is being for me," He whispered in your ear. quirking a brow when you clenched down tighter at his sentence.
"Oh? Sweetpea is dirtier than I thought? Getting turned on at the thought of someone walking in and seeing your legs spread all pretty for me. Should I bring my friends over and give them a show while I fuck you?" he teasingly hissed, smiling as you avidly shook your head.
"H-hee you're being too mean," you panted out as his thumb rubbed over your clit and he slid a second digit in. Your stomach felt like it was on fire as something tight and intense formed in your lower belly.
At your blubbering Heeseung whispered a cooed apology as you stared at him through delicate lashes, not wanting to make his delicate flower upset.
Heeseung then curled his fingers and you let out a deep gasp, shaking as you felt a sensation rush through your body.
"Ah there it is, I found sweetpea's special spot. You see this spot here" he curled his fingers harder and your legs shook intensely, slowly losing track of his sentence as he sped his fingers up. "Only I can touch your special spot okay? Don't let any other man do so," he warned, feeling satisfied when you nodded your head.
"W-wait somethingfeels weird h-hee wait," you rambled out, feeling like your belly was about to burst. Heeseung knew where this was going and sped his fingers up, pinning your hands with his free hand when you tried to yank his wrist away.
You wanted to say something else but the knot snapped and you felt liquid soak your thighs and your voice croak from your body as waves of pleasure pulsated throughout your body, your breathing unable to come down for a couple of minutes.
Heeseung pulled out his fingers and sucked them clean sitting up to undo his sweats so his erect hard-on sprung free. Your eyes widened at the size and looked up at him with fearful eyes, which only turned him on more.
"Don't worry sweetpea. If your body was made to react to only me, then your princess parts were made to fit only me yea?"
"y-yes."
"thatta girl...."
************************************
LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE MORE DARKER ISH STUFF BC MY FOLLOWERS SAID THEY DID SO
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trollprincess · 1 month
Text
Eighteen years ago, my great-grandpa George passed away.
Grandpa was a badass. One day, he meets this woman whose husband left her and their four kids and they hook up. In fact, they hook up so quickly that the first of their two kids has the previous guy on the birth certificate as the dad by accident. (They get it changed later.) Not long after, Grandpa joins up for WWII. He looks good in a uniform - my dad says he looks like Errol Flynn, I say Clark Gable. Grandpa storms the beaches at Normandy, but never mentions it. He comes back home, works construction, even helps build the Twin Towers. In the 70s, he and my great-grandma finally get around to getting married just for the Social Security. Six kids, and you would never be able to tell which ones were and weren’t his. He treated them all the same.
Anyway, every time my mom would get a new kitten, Grandpa would always say, “You should name him after me!” She liked people names for cats, and he kept asking, and she kept putting it off. And then he passed away.
A few months later, she got George the kitten.
Grandpa was one of those stocky guys who walked a little like he couldn’t put his arms all the way down. He was gray for as long as any of us could remember, and he had asthma. George the kitten was a gray seal point who soon turned into a weird stocky-looking thing. Not long after we got him, he started to wheeze every so often. Turns out, he had asthma.
The reincarnation jokes started pretty quickly.
For eighteen years, George was a big blocky lump of a cat, stocky but not fat, who could yowl with the best of them. He loved a good snuggle, and expected a pet as soon as you walked in the door. He got a little grumpy when suddenly there was a dog in the house, and then another one, but he got over it. Last photo I saw my mom post of him, my dad was on the couch covered in him and two boxers. The only reason more animals weren’t on him is because after those three, there was no room.
A year or so ago, he started losing weight. It’s strange, seeing a cat who’s always been built like a tiger drop to skin and bones. We have another cat who’s up there in years too and probably not much longer for this world who’s dropped weight as well, but the difference between big blocky George and old skinny George is startling. It’s like we lost half a cat somewhere.
Tonight, he goes to the vet to cross the rainbow bridge.
It’s okay, though. Grandpa will be absolutely giddy to finally meet his small furry namesake. Or will he just go back to where he came from, content he found another way to hang out with us for twenty more years?
Anyway, a toast to George. May you all unsettle your families into believing in reincarnation and demand attention by loudly yelling at everyone in his honor today.
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okay so for those of you who haven't met me (most of you) I really like thinking about the way people talk (tone, inflection, accent, speech patterns, et cetera) and I'm tired so I'm extending this to the batfamily here we go here's my thoughts, unrequested and only slightly edited:
dick: sounds a bit like a male pop singer (think brendan urie but without the whining or busting his voice with drugs and bad technique). dude has a killer falsetto and can hit some of the highest notes in the house, beat out only by steph. saw a headcanon somewhere about him growing up speaking romani because of his parents and having an accent as a child that comes back when he's hurt or tired and honestly 100/10 it's part of this headcanon (and if you know where this post is please tell me! it's not mine and I'd love to give credit). you can also hear it in the way he says a couple less common words but his accent otherwise sounds exactly like bruce's.
jason: doesn't have the deepest voice of the batfamily; he's third deepest after bruce and duke. his tessitura (comfortable vocal range) is big though and his voice pitch changes a ton with his mood. he's got a soft r that the other bats don't have (think ny or boston) that he learned from his mom. his falsetto is trash but he is one of the better singers in the family. all low notes. you should hear him do the song the dwarves sing in the beginning of the hobbit.
tim: his voice is a little scratchy but it's not too noticeable. damian is the only batboy with a higher voice; tim and cass are at about the same pitch. he's a tad self-conscious about how he sounds in general and heavily mimics so he's got bruce's crisp ts and a softer r like jason's. he says "ahm" instead of "um" and that's not really common in gotham so nobody really knows where he's gotten that from. he's definitely more monotone, for a lot of reasons, and tends to emphasize his words by changing in volume rather than pitch.
damian: he's like twelve so his voice hasn't dropped yet but he wants it to be lower like his brothers. he's got just a touch of an arabic accent so his speech is a little more melodic and much like tim he's a mimic so he has bruce's ts and a few sporadic romani and aave quirks from dick and duke respectively.
duke: second lowest voice of the batfamily. the kid's quiet and his speech is usually peppered with aave although he's often a little self-conscious about it around the primarily white batfamily and especially white upper-class bruce. doesn't sing in public but he's good at it (he refuses to acknowledge this)
cass: okay she hardly ever talks but when she does it's slightly lower in pitch than what people expect. she typically speaks in broken english (well that's canon not headcanon) and it's always the same way as someone else in the batfamily speaks, usually babs, steph, duke, or jason since she spends the most time with them. she's barely ever louder than a kitten sneeze.
stephanie: holy shit the girl talks fast. she's got the highest speaking voice too by a few steps. gorgeous soprano but only about fifty percent of the time. loses her voice completely when she gets sick and turns into a raspy old lady. has an absolute knack for impersonations, not necessarily in terms of pitch but in speech patterns/rhythms.
barbara: right in between tim/cass and steph in terms of pitch. she uses very precise language and there's often random hacker lingo in there. she's also surprisingly loud and can out-shout any of them except for alfred.
and finally, bruce: deepest voice by a step or two. his batman growl is actually slightly higher in pitch if you listen closely enough which jason finds hilarious. he's got very crisp ts as a result of being raised primarily by the very british alfred and he often takes his time speaking especially in meetings.
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AITA for wanting to name a kitten something else from the rest of my family?
My mother has gotten a kitten to add to our five cats (Tia, Crosby, Nash, Delilah, and my sister's cat, beans; my sister's staying home from college due to summer break), no shame on that part. We have the money, care, and space to handle them and they behave well! besides a few quirks that are easy to manage (ex: dragging clothes around). We have had her for 3 days.
On the first day, I offered the name Cupid, as the kitten is quite affectionate and the pattern on her head that goes onto her back looks like an arrowhead. My mother rejected the name but didn't come up with one either, so i kept referring to the kitten as Cupid. Second day we came to an agreement on the name Cara, as she felt like something to do with love and I wanted a C-name. Last night my sister came home.
My sister has been out of town for a while to travel to the coast to go to a house party, hasn't spent much time with the kitten compared to everyone else. She doesn't want the name Cara, as she knows a couple. Cara isn't too much of an uncommon name in my opinion. Okay, we can find something else. Another name my mother suggested was Cassie. I could see the kitten being named Cassie. My sister says no because the name reminds her of a character from Euphoria who ran around with her tits out. Like Cara, Cassie isn't too much of an uncommon name either.
To put how stupid I think this reasoning is into perspective, I have a very common name. I know many people who share my name, personally or not. Good people, bad people, fictional people, what not. There are people out there who associate my name with millions of different things.
My mother and my sister decided to name her Venus without talking to me about it, which is a name I feel like doesn't fit her. My father also wants to name her Venus, but he's not important in the situation.
Another reason my mom doesn't want to accept my name is because she claims I've named a lot of pets recently." Her two examples are both rabbits, one she bought as my pet and another she took from a family friend who was giving her away. When it comes to the second rabbit and the kitten, she asked for my help in naming her. The only other animals I have named are two out of seven chickens. We have three dogs (not named by me), five cats (new kitten + four mentioned, not named by me), 11 rabbits (3 named by me, two previously mentioned), and seven chickens (2 named by me). I call them pets because it's not like we run a petting zoo. We live in a rural area so we have the space. 26 pets, 27 if you include my sister's cat, and I have named 5. The rest by my sister and mother. The more I typed, the more I realized it sounds fake, but I can provide photos if asked.
I feel if we can't decide on a name then we should talk about it and agree to something.
I am still going to call the kitten Cara in protest.
AITA?
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roosterforme · 1 year
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Batting Practice Part 10 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is craving more alone time with you, but his work schedule is going to make that difficult. And when Danny comes to tee ball practice and makes Everett cry, Bradley lets you know that he would be so much better. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Bradley had a long night. He had to jerk off two times before he could fall asleep, and even then, he kept dreaming you were with him. He woke up, his body searching for you in his bed before he convinced himself you really had gone inside your own house. 
When he had to get up to shower before the tee ball game, he felt like he had barely slept, but at least he'd be able to see you again in a few hours. 
When he checked the time on his phone, he saw you had sent him a picture of you all snuggled up in your bed. You looked beautiful without any makeup on as sunlight lit up the bare skin of your shoulders, and he was texting you back right away. 
Kitten, what did you wear to bed?
He forced himself to get up and head to his bathroom. As he was stepping into the shower, you wrote back.
Nothing. Kittens don't wear pajamas.
He couldn't write back. He'd never get himself in order if he did. But when he saw you and Everett arrive at the field, he couldn't help thinking that this whole thing would have been made better if he had slept over with you last night. He could have made pancakes for breakfast, and the three of you could have come to the game in his Bronco. 
"Hi, Coach," you called to him with that little wave, and he knew he wasn't going to get enough of you. Especially not since he learned about all the little noises you make when you come apart in his lap.
"Kitten," he muttered, squeezing Everett's shoulder and sending him over to Bob to warm up. You were smirking up at him. "Where do you stand on me kissing you right now?"
"Oh," you gasped, and Bradley watched you glance around to see Sandra and all the other moms were nearby. "I..."
"It's fine," he whispered. "Just know that I want to, okay?"
You nodded up at him before he turned toward the game that was about to start. 
It turns out the Tiny Eagles were indestructible up to this point. They beat the Tiny Falcons by five runs, and Everett scored twice. Bradley smiled when he turned to you both times to find you cheering for your son. You looked even more excited than you had when you had managed to hit some balls at the batting cages. 
When the game ended and the kids started to disperse, heading toward the bleachers, Bob made his way over to Bradley. 
"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."
Bob nodded, blushing a soft shade of pink. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."
Bradley's eyes caught on Everett as you knelt down to help him switch his shoes. "I'm having fun."
Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"
Bradley had to reel in his desire to smirk. "You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"
Bob's blue eyes lit up. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."
"Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot." Bradley watched Bob's face turn from pink to bright red as he sputtered before turning and walking away.
----------------------
You watched Bradley head your way, getting a high five from Everett. "You two sticking around? Or am I walking you to your car?"
More than anything you wanted to get to spend more time with him this weekend. You had to run Everett to a birthday party this afternoon, and tomorrow you had a family function. Both were things you would have invited him to tag along to if you had been dating him for a while. 
"Busy weekend, Coach," you told him, running your fingers along the back of his hand. "Walk us up?"
You watched him crouch down so Everett could get a piggyback ride, and you laughed at the two of them in their matching blue jerseys and hats. "That's adorable," you told them, running a few steps ahead to take a picture. One that would probably make your heart melt every time you looked at it, but that was okay. 
"Send it to me?" Bradley asked, and you texted it to both him and Molly. 
You listened to Everett ask Bradley when he could go to the park again, eager to see that fastball in action. "I'll talk to your mom, okay? Figure out a good time?"
"Okay, Coach," Everett replied with a bright smile, one you never saw on his face on the rare occasion that Danny was around.
"And now I have a question for you," Bradley told you as you approached your car. "A favor, really."
"Yes, Coach?" you asked, smiling innocently at him. Last night you rode his thigh until you came in your jeans. Maybe he was right; maybe you did love to tease him. 
You listened to him clear his throat. "Can you get Aunt Molly to come to another game? Or a practice? Please?"
You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to bring her more flowers?"
Bradley snorted and looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm not asking for me, Kitten. Bob's jonesing hard for Molly."
"Oh." Your first response was immediately embarrassing now. You already knew Bob had a thing for your sister, and now you sounded like an idiot. You watched Bradley set Everett down and open the car door for him. 
"See you on Monday, kiddo." Everett gave him a high five before Bradley closed the door. Then he focused all of his attention on you. "Tell me you're not jealous, Kitten."
"No," you whispered. "And I already know Bob likes her. But Danny used to hit on Molly all the time, and I'm sorry, I just... I'm sorry."
Bradley was frozen, a look of disgust on his face. "Your ex husband used to hit on your sister? Are you joking right now?"
You shook your head. "He used to hit on everyone. I couldn't even have girl friends around. I could barely spend time with Molly. She hates him so much, I thought she was going to hit him at times."
"Kitten," he whispered, and he started to reach for you before he stopped. But before his hand could drop down to his side, you caught it. You had basically told him earlier that you didn't want him to kiss you in public, but now you were pulling him closer. You could make the next move here. 
You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. After one soft brush of your lips, Bradley whispered, "We doing this in public now? In front of Ev?"
"Yeah," you confirmed, and then he kissed you a little harder, but kept his hands on all of your G rated body parts. He didn't let his lips linger too long, but he also didn't let you go. 
"Let me know when you and Ev are free? Maybe we can get some pizza after practice this week?"
You nodded up at him. "You know who else likes pizza? Molly. Want to see if Bob's free, too?"
Bradley laughed. "Yeah. Let's work on that."
When you slipped into your car and started the engine, Everett said, "Mom. I think Coach Bradley likes you!"
You couldn't help but laugh. "I think so too, Ev."
---------------------
Monday had been going so well for Bradley. You and he had been texting all weekend, including a few risque photos. You also managed to get Molly to agree to come to practice on Thursday, and Bradley already informed Bob that she would be there. Bob was already so flustered, Bradley didn't see how he would even make it to Thursday. 
So his day was going well, right up until he was getting ready to leave base for tee ball practice.
"You have a minute?" Mav asked, and Bradley just shrugged.
"For you? I guess I have to."
Mav kind of laughed and then shook his head. "I have to send you up to Lemoore for a few days. Need you there by Saturday afternoon."
"You're joking," Bradley said. "I have a tee ball game on Saturday, Mav."
"Yeah, well, Bob can coach solo for one game. I need to send someone for training, and they selected you. At least it's not a full deployment."
Bradley ran his hands over his face. "Yeah," he grunted. He had already been planning out a way to get some more alone time with you. He had been hoping you'd agree to a sleepover at your house if Bradley left in the morning before Everett was up. Now he was going to have to go days without even seeing you. It's not like sleeping with you was the only thing on Bradley's mind, but his thoughts were wandering there a lot now. 
He'd tell you today at practice that he would be gone for a bit. He was just disappointed that he didn't have much choice. After he parked at the ballfield and started setting things up with Bob, his heart leapt when he saw you park next to his Bronco. But then he saw someone park on the other side of you, and a man got out and was immediately in your personal space and Everett's.
Bradley looked on with concern as Everett ran ahead of you with his gear bag, his face pinched like he was about to cry. You were still next to your car, and the other man was gesturing wildly with his hands while he loomed over you. He was tall, and even with your heels on, he dwarfed you. 
But Bradley peeled his gaze away from you as Everett got closer to the bleachers. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?"
He just nodded and sat down and started yanking his shoes off. But he didn't really look okay, and neither did you. Everett was swiping away tears before they could fall, and Bradley was seething with anger.
He knelt in front of Everett and helped him pull his cleats out. "Is that your dad talking to your mom?"
"Yeah," he replied softly and sobbing once before going silent again. Everett usually talked nonstop, constantly asking questions and wanting to know everything that was going on around him. 
Bradley cleared his throat. "How was school today?" he asked, doing up the laces and making sure Everett was ready for practice.
But he just shrugged and gave another one word answer. "Fine."
Bradley sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "We're going to have batting practice today, and I'll make sure I put you at the top of the lineup, how does that sound?"
He watched the kid's eyes light up a little bit. "Sounds good, Coach."
"Great. Now why don't you start warming up with Piper and Amber?" 
Everett reached into his bag and grabbed his Phillies hat, setting it on his head backwards just like Bradley. With a high five, he was off, running for the outfield toward Bob. And Bradley was standing up and getting a view of you struggling through the grass with your heels on, with a scowling Danny beside you. 
When your eyes met Bradley's, he watched a hesitant smile meet your lips. You shouldn't be hesitating with him. Your pretty face shouldn't look like you were on the verge of tears yourself. Danny looked taller than him, but Bradley felt the almost uncontrollable urge to knock him to the ground. And he was afraid he would do it if you or Ev did start crying. 
"I don't have time for this shit. You know that," Danny was telling you, practically yelling although he was right next to you. 
Bradley watched you take a deep breath and stop walking. "Danny. He's your child, too. He only sees you a handful of times a year. He loves baseball, and he's doing really well. I thought you could take like two hours out of your schedule to see him practice."
Danny shook his head at you. "I work all the time. You know that!"
Your hands turned to fists at your sides. "You work all the time?" you hissed. "Smoking pot and having sex with twenty year olds while you wait for artistic inspiration to strike is not the same thing as working! When was the last time you sold a painting? When was the last time you paid child support?"
Bradley felt his blood boiling. He knew he was staring and eavesdropping, but he didn't give a shit. And if Danny gave him a hard time, he wouldn't back down. 
Danny leaned toward you and got in your face. "You've always been like this. You don't appreciate the process. You act so fucking high and mighty, and then you can't understand why I don't want to be around the two of you."
"You don't need to spend time with me! I'm asking you to spend time with him!" you replied, turning back toward the ballfield where Everett was running the bases and laughing. 
Bradley was done watching this shit. He rolled his shoulders and made his way toward you. There were tears in your eyes now, and he was probably going to level your ex husband right in front of all of the other team parents and players who were getting ready for practice to begin. 
"Hi, Coach," you muttered when he got closer. 
"Kitten," he replied, loud enough for Danny to hear. "And you must be Everett's father." He reached out his hand and shook Danny's, making it clear with his eyes that he expected Danny to shape up his act. "I'm Bradley. One of the coaches."
"Fantastic," he replied sarcastically. 
Then Bradley focused all of his attention back on you. "Everything okay, Kitten?"
You nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah."
-----------------------
As soon as Bradley turned toward the ballfield to get the practice session started, Danny was all over you. 
"So you're fucking your kid's coach? That's a good one. Classy."
You knew Bradley could hear him by the way his shoulders stiffened and how his steps slowed. Part of you wished he would keep walking, and part of you wanted him to come back and wrap his arms around you.
But you rounded on Danny, because he wasn't your husband any longer. "First of all, Everett is your kid too, and second, that's none of your business. And third, do you really think you should even mention that shit after the way you cheated on me?" 
He was getting you riled up. He loved doing this. He would use this against you later, you knew he would. But you couldn't help yourself. 
"I sincerely hope you don't invite random men like this tee ball coach over for the night when Everett is around," Danny said in the most condescending voice. 
You sucked in a deep breath. "For once, just one time, I would like you to initiate spending some time with Everett. That's all I am asking for. Just a few hours. He deserves your attention."
Danny's response of, "I'll see what I can do," made you want to scream and throw your shoes at him. But instead, you just gingerly made your way to the bleachers, and he trailed behind you before sitting silently next to you. He took out his phone and never watched Everett at all. So you cheered twice as loud as you normally would while silently tamping down your rage. You couldn't even focus on the ridiculous things Sandra and Tara were saying behind you, because you knew if you took your eyes off of Everett and Bradley for a second, you'd start to cry. There was no way you'd let Danny have the satisfaction of knowing he could still do that to you.
When practice ended, Everett looked hesitant to come over to the bleachers. You nudged Danny with your foot, and he finally looked up with only mild interest. 
"Great job, sweetie!" you told Everett, collecting him in your arms as he came closer. "You were awesome!" But Everett still looked like he was about to burst into tears with Danny around.
"Nice job," Danny said with a plastic smile. "I need to run, but we'll set up another time to see each other, okay?" He patted Everett on the head and then turned to leave without another word. 
You weren't sure why you did this every few months. Part of you thought you'd be better off petitioning for full custody and leaving Danny out of your lives for good. But the other, softer part of you wanted Everett to have some sort of relationship with his father. 
And then Bradley was standing behind Everett, gently patting his shoulders and looking at you. "Ev was doing a great job batting today. I think he could handle some real pitches soon. Maybe even the batting cages," he told you, and you watched your son's face break out into a smile. 
"Really?" Everett asked Bradley, turning to look up at him.
"Oh yeah, kiddo. Definitely," he replied with a smile. 
You swiped away at the tears that still seemed to be lingering in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Ev. We can go to the batting cages one day."
"We can all go," Bradley said, but it just made you want to cry more. You weren't in a relationship with him. You weren't even technically sleeping with him. But he treated Ev with so much more care and respect that Danny did. And he was good to you as well.
You knelt to help Everett change his shoes, and you were so happy to hear him asking Bradley a million questions again. As Bradley walked you both up to your car, he started teaching Everett about baseball stats, and you got your phone out to text Molly. You wanted to make sure she could still make it to practice on Thursday, but you decided to also let her know that Danny came to practice at the last minute today.
Molly: You've got to be shitting me. He really showed up? Was he a dick? Of course I'll be there on Thursday. I've got to ask Coach Cute Glasses for his number. 
You snorted and tucked your phone away as Bradley helped Everett into the back of your car. "See you on Thursday, Coach!" Everett said, giving him a high five as he started to buckle himself in.
"Can I tell him about pizza?" Bradley asked you softly, and when you nodded, he draped one arm along the top of your car and leaned inside the door.
"How about we go out for pizza after practice on Thursday? Maybe with Coach Bob and your Aunt Molly too?"
"Really?" Everett asked, and you wouldn't know he'd been crying earlier. 
"Yeah, my treat. It'll be fun," Bradley said, closing the door and focusing his attention on you. 
You opened your mouth to argue with him right away. "Pizza will not be your treat! You bought me a one hundred dollar bottle of champagne!"
"Kitten, Bob and I will split the cost of the pizza. We need to make him look good in front of Molly, okay? Don't argue. Also, your ex husband is a fucking dick."
He backed you up against your car door with his hands at your waist and a concerned look on his face. "Yeah. I know."
"He made Everett cry," Bradley whispered. "Actual tears."
Your heart was pounding as you nodded up at him. "Thanks for making things better." Then his lips were on yours, and your palms came to rest on his chest. His kisses were soft, and he was pulling away from you almost immediately.  
"Oh, Kitten. I don't want to see that kid cry ever again."
You were practically whimpering at his words, but you held it together. "Thursday will be better, Coach. Pizza with Molly and Bob," you said, lacing your fingers through his. "And maybe this weekend we can try to spend a little time together? Just me and you?" 
"Oh, fuck," Bradley growled, his head tipping back. Then he was looking at you again, but his expression was far less pleased now. "I have to go to Lemoore for a few days. I'm leaving on Saturday morning."
"You'll miss the game this weekend?" 
He nodded. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. But we can talk on the phone at night?"
You laughed softly. "Is that what a deployment is like?"
Bradley kissed your cheek and your ear. "Oh, shit, Kitten. No way. A deployment would be so much worse. Hardly any communication at all."
You pondered that for a moment. "You mean we would just have to miss you without even getting to talk to you? Because that would probably make Ev cry, too."
He cupped your cheek with his big palm and tipped your face up to look at him. "But I would spend the rest of the time when I'm back in San Diego and not deployed making it up to him. And you."
You nodded and kissed him. "I believe you, Coach."
----------------------
Bradley thought a lot about you while he flew all week. He wanted to have the chance to really be with you, but going to Lemoore was making things difficult for him now. He was aching for the chance to spend a night with you. There was no way he would have passed up that opportunity with you for any other plans. 
On Thursday, he was waiting to fly with Bob and Nat in the hangar. When Nat set her water bottle down to fix her boots, Bradley picked it up and finished her drink. "You need to stop that!" she complained when she saw what he had done. "And you need to tell me what's going on with your hot mama."
Bradley tipped his chin at Bob. "Ask him what his dinner plans are for tonight."
Nat turned toward Bob with a smirk. "You're dating a mom, too?"
Bob's flushed cheeks as he shook his head and sputtered. "N-No, not a mom. Everett's aunt."
It took Nat a second to piece it all together, but when she did, she started laughing. "You're interested in sisters?"
Bradley shared a look with Bob, and then the three of them were cracking up together. "This is too much for me to handle," Nat said, tossing her water bottle in the trash and heading to the tarmac. Then she spun around and excitedly asked, "Wait. Is there a third sister?"
"Just the two," Bradley confirmed with a grin.
"Damn it."
When Bradley was eventually showering before leaving for practice, he thought about the special treat he had tossed into his bag for Everett. It seemed really stupid now, but he couldn't get over the way Everett had been so upset on Monday. 
And Bradley fucking hated Danny. Everett was his child! What the fuck? How could you do that to your own child? And you were so strong, it was baffling to Bradley. You invited Danny to practice even though you knew he was horrible, but you still managed to stand up for yourself and your son. Bradley was absolutely hooked. He wondered if he could ever be good enough for you to be willing to stand up for him that way too. 
He had so many conflicting emotions as he hopped in the Bronco and headed for the ballfield. 
---------------------
Molly parked right next to you, and she hopped out of her car to scoop Everett into a big hug. "I heard we're going out for pizza tonight!" she cheered, kissing him all over his face while he laughed. "I love pizza!"
"Me too!" he cheered, and Molly sent him toward the bleachers while you and she followed behind him. You hopped out of your high heels and slipped your sneakers on while she helped you walk. 
"Oh. There he is," Molly whispered with a grin. "Shit, do I like glasses now? Or just tall, sexy men?"
You watched Bob interacting with some of the kids, and you couldn't help but smile too. "I think Bob is actually taller and sexier than Casey was. And the glasses are like a cute little cherry on top."
"Are you checking out Bob?" Bradley asked when you reached the bleachers.
"Mmhmm," you and Molly both hummed in unison. 
Bradley kissed your cheek right in front of everyone, and then he took your hand as he told Molly, "Bob's not just a pretty face. He also has a master's degree in aeronautics, volunteers at the library, comes to a full stop at stop signs, and he never litters."
"Sounds made up," Molly said with a smirk. "I'll be the judge of things."
You and she sat side by side and watched Everett practice. It wasn't long before she started asking you about Danny. This didn't surprise you, but he wasn't high on your list of things you wanted to talk about. But you did admit, "He made Ev cry. I was almost in tears, too."
Molly kissed your temple and laced her fingers through yours. "He's horrible. Just take him to court and get full custody. I can help you pay for another lawyer, since I know you're not getting any child support."
"I don't need money," you promised, your eyes tracking Everett as he hit the ball and ran past Bradley who was cheering him on. "You know all those people who claim you can save a bunch of money by just making your own coffee at home? Turns out those bastards are right."
Molly didn't laugh, but she also didn't press you for more information. She just held your hand until practice ended. 
"My god... is he sweating? I think he's sweating," she whispered, and you realized she was watching Bob take off his glasses and wipe his face with a towel. "Do you think he would get upset if I licked his face?"
"Molly!" you said, cracking up. 
But now Bob was looking at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and she was just grinning back at him. 
"You need to behave at dinner," you muttered as Everett ran over and climbed on Molly's lap to get his shoes changed. 
You watched Bradley and Bob pack up all of the practice equipment and head your way. Bob cleared his throat twice before he managed to say, "Hi, Molly." And when your sister smiled up at him and greeted him by name, even you could feel butterflies in your tummy.
"Pizza time?" Bradley asked the group while Everett scrambled up onto his shoulders, knocking his hat off. When you caught it and set it on your own head, Bradley mumbled, "Looks cute, Kitten."
By the time you got to your car, Everett was laughing with Bradley, and Molly was smiling at Bob. You watched Bob climb into Molly's car as she told you, "Meet you there!" And then you turned to find Everett sitting on the tailgate of Bradley's Bronco.
"I have something for you, kiddo. It's not new, okay? He looks like he's seen better days, but he's still a good luck charm," Bradley was telling Everett while digging in his bag. When he pulled out a well worn stuffed Phillie Phanatic with slightly matted green fur and handed it to Everett, your heart skipped along erratically. 
Everett held it gently with both hands. "It's the Phanatic! Can I keep him?"
"Yeah, kiddo. He's all yours," Bradley told him, leaning on the tailgate as well. 
Everett hugged Bradley around the neck, and you felt so much love for this man. How was he already treating your kid this well?
"It's just a shame the real Phanatic is only at Phillies home games," Bradley said with a grin. "You've got to get your mom to take you to Philadelphia."
Suddenly two pairs of eyes were on you, but you were already shaking your head. "Maybe next year, Ev! Now hop in your seat so we can go get dinner."
Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, and you whispered, "Did you just give my son your very own stuffed animal?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice raspy and playful. "He got me through some hard times, just thought I'd pass him along. I can always come over and visit him at your house if I miss him too much, right Kitten?"
You looked up into his brown eyes in awe and ran your fingers along his mustache. "I just want you to know that if we were alone right now, I would be more than happy to help you through a hard time."
A smile spread across his handsome face. "Tell me more about that."
You bit your lip and ran your fingers down the front of his shirt. "It's just that, Kittens really know how to use their tongue."
Bradley groaned your name loudly, and you giggled when he grabbed your butt and pressed himself against you. "I need to get you alone," he whispered, and you kissed him hard, tasting his tongue and wiggling against him. 
Then you pulled out of his grasp, leaving him reaching for you as you backed away saying, "I think it's time for pizza."
--------------------------
I hate Danny. Also, Coach and the stuffed Phanatic!! If you don't know what the Phanatic looks like, Google him and laugh! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 11
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Transition & Compromise
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Summary: With enough money saved up for her transition, your wife Kitten comes home anxious. Worried you won’t love her anymore, while you’re wanting another child with her.
Warnings: established marriage, fluff, you share a child with Kitten currently but want another one, tremendous reassurance, marriage goals, mention of breastfeeding, talk of transition
Life with Kitten was the most happiest you’d ever been. She was charismatic, optimistic, caring, everything you’ve always looked for in a partner. There were hardly ever any arguments but when they did happen they never last long, each of you both hating being upset with one another. After getting to know one another and dating for quite some time, you’d finally asked her to marry you. Now here you were two stay at home moms who worked remotely with a beautiful baby girl, working on your second. There had been many moments where Kitten expressed she wanted to start taking hormone pills, and eventually fully transition into a woman. There was never any problem or concern there, you loved her for her heart and soul nothing less, nothing more.
“Honey, I’m home! Where’s my little dove?”
“In here sweetheart!” She had become cooped up in the house, needing to get out and have a little her time. After getting her nails done, she ran some errands and got lost in her little, imaginative mind. When she walked into the nursery, seeing you cradling your daughter against your chest, cooing her to sleep, Kitten’s heart wanted to melt from the loving scene, but also shatter worried with what she was about to say.
“How was your day love?” Walking over to her, you pecked her on the lips, she tasted of vanilla coffee with a hint of chocolate syrup. 
“It was refreshing, maybe we should take her for a walk soon, after all it should be a beautiful night, but can I talk to you about something first? It will only take but a minute.” Nodding for her to continue, she began to fiddle with inanimate objects, struggling to make eye contact as she spoke, her voice shaking from being nervous.
“I-we’ve been saving up quite a bit of money and- and I think we have enough for me to transition, only if you’re still okay with it of course.” Stopping mid stride, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. The goal was always one boy, and one girl, an agreement you’d both made, and after Lilac was born, you world changed forever, the bond you shared intensifying, the sex more intimate, emotions more easier to express until now.
“But I thought we wanted more kids?” You pouted, concern evident on your face as you placed your newborn down in the crib to sleep. This wouldn’t have come to a surprise had it come later on down the road and you respected Kitten’s decisions, always but the thought of not having anymore children saddened you deeply. Yes there were other options, adoption, surrogates, but you wanted to be the one to give birth, to carry Kitten’s offspring. There was an emotional and physical connection, an experience that was so profound and deep you and Kitten didn’t wish to share your love with anyone.
Kitten motioned to the bed, taking a seat next to you her shaking hands in yours.
“I know, and I do I just-It’s not that I don’t want more kids. I still wish to have a boy but- Oh it’s just no use!” Her eyes began to tear up, unable to avoid the thought of you leaving her because of what’s in between her legs. Even after a year of marriage she still struggled to express her emotions after so many people had left her behind in the past.
Pulling her into your arms as she wept, you worried you had said something wrong. She was always just a fragile little thing, but it was one of the reasons you fell in love with her.
You carressed her cheek, wiping away the stray tears. You had a feeling what this upset was about, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to keep trying for a boy, she was struggling with her body image.
“Kitten, darling, my love?” She hummed, fists clenching into the fabric of your pajama pants as she tried to calm down, breathing in your subtle, comforting aroma, clinging to the raspberry scent.
“I want you to transition. You know I’d never leave you right? I love you, and believe me when I say your pussy is going to be beautiful, your tits wonderous, and I’m going to devour every part of you like a three course meal. Who you are isn’t going to change, my love for you will not diminish. Our marriage will remain strong and powerful, okay?” Her sniffles came to a hault but she still hadn’t spoken. Instead, sitting up and nuzzling her head into the crook of your neck, needing to hear more, needing the reassurance. You held her tight and close to your heart, running your hands down the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles into her soft skin.
“Will our sex life change, of course, but there’s so many options my little kitten. We can still pleasure each other, we already have a bunch of toys but I’m moreso looking forward to being suffocated between your thighs as you sit that pretty pussy on my face.” Kitten’s cock twitched against your stomach, the thought of your sweet, dove like face buried in her sex, breathing in her faint aroma, and lapping her lips and clit like she does to you now. Coming up for air, her angelic, glossy blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight while her tears slowly dissipated. She looked down at with a gentle, adoring smile, playing with the buttons on your shirt only partially anxious now.
“You really mean that? You’d still love me?” You brushed her stray curls from her face, fingers twirling in her silk like hair while watching her with sincere, yet completely truthful eyes.
“Kitten I will love you for eternity and I will always be attracted to you. Please don’t ever think I’d leave, not after everything we’ve been through. Besides I can’t wait to suck on your blooming nipples more than I already do, jiggling your breasts, seeing them bounce for me. I want all of you, all of the time. Make the appointment, please.” Kitten fanned her face, feeling like she was on the verge of tears once more, meanwhile her erection not going away thinking back to how you glowed when you were pregnant. She needed to get a move on before scheduling an appointment. She had heard everything she needed to. There was a playful twinkle in her baby blues. She pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bare, sensitive breasts, so full of milk from breast feeding.
“Let’s make a baby, then. No time to waste.” Smirking and giggling, Kitten clung to you, wrapping her legs around your back as she smashed her lips against yours with a passionate fire. 
Smiling into the heated kiss, you walked out of the nursery, carrying her into the bedroom while butterflies still remained fluttering around your tummy just like the first time. There was always an agreement made, an effort put in, that’s what kept your marriage strong, and different from anyone else’s.
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For the prompt list number one for David x reader just absolute fluff if u don't mind thank you ur writing is amazing btw
Awh thank you!😘 And thank you for requesting, I hope you like this!💜
1. "Did I ever tell about my first murder?" "What murder? You're innocent as fuck!"
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I sighed contendly as I turned over. The warm blanket wrapped around me, the faint candle light at the end of the room standing on the table next to the makeshift door. I didn't know the time, and in all honesty, I didn't care. I was beyond comfortable in my - well, our - bed, especially now that I realised that he still laid next to me.
I smiled as I cuddled up to him, pressing a soft kiss to his jawline. "Morning love."
"Evening, kitten," his voice was lower than usual. "Sleep well?"
I hummed. "You stayed. I could get used to waking up like this."
David chuckled. "It's been a while since I've used a bed for sleeping."
"Well, maybe you should just stay with me every night then. As practice, you know?"
"You would like that, hm?"
"What, waking up next to the man I love? No, I'd absolutely despise that. Absolutely hate it, now can you even think of that," I teased with a big grin.
We laid there for a while, him playing with my hair as I listened to his non-existent heartbeat. I sometimes felt like it was there, very faintly, but I could never be sure.
"Did I ever tell you about my first murder?" I spoke up after a while. His fingers stopped moving through my hair as he looked at me, a curious frown on his face.
"What murder? You're innocent as fuck!"
I giggled, nodding. "That, that is all just an act. I am a very real killer."
"Oh yeah? Who did you kill?"
I sat up, leaning on my arms and looked at him. "Not a who, but a what."
"What, did you kill a mosquito and feel bad afterwards?" He chuckled, causing some blood yo rush to my cheeks.
"No. I mean, I have done that, obviously, and I always do feel kind of bad - but that's not what I'm talking about."
"No? Tell me, kitten. What did you kill?"
"Just keep in mind that I was very young, okay?"
I laid back down, feeling his chest rumble as he laughed. "Sure thing, love."
"Okay, so the first time I murdered something, I was five years old."
"That's quite young to start the whole killing thing."
"I know right! Mom said it was not that weird, that it was just curiosity, but I am glad you agree."
"What did you kill?" David sounded just a tad bit impatient, causing me to grin.
"No, no, I got to tell it right! So, it was a very hot, very bright summer day, and I had just gotten my very own magnifying glass. And in our garden was this huge ant-nest. So many ants."
"You killed ants?"
"I burned them alive. That's what I did." I sounded somewhat regretful. In all honesty, I was. "I was a young kid, but honestly, someone should have told me not to do it?"
David laughed. "That's quite a story."
"I still feel bad."
"Those poor ants," David chuckled, causing me to finally laugh as well.
"Would it also work on vampires?" I wondered aloud.
"Let's not try that, shall we?"
"But I am curious now!"
"What happened to you being innocent?"
"That all disappeared when I confessed to my very first murder."
He grinned, kissing me softly. "Killer or not, you're still mine."
I smiled. "Are you getting soft?"
"For you? Always."
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 months
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Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part four
Version 1: False Positive
Steve stared at himself in the mirror, staring at his stomach. He rubbed his hands over his belly, looking at it mournfully. Eddie was snoring peacefully on his bed when something caused him to jerk awake suddenly. He blinked sleepily at his boyfriend.
"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.
"Eddie, do you think I'm fat?" Steve asked.
Eddie sighed, sat up, and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed the little calendar off the bedside table.
"Nope! It doesn't appear we have a fight scheduled for this morning," Eddie said cheerfully.
"Eddie, come on, be serious," Steve said.
"You know I think you're beautiful. No, you're not fat. You have fat, but you are not fat," Eddie said.
"Okay, so do I have a whole lot of fat?" He asked.
"No, baby, you have the perfect amount of fat," Eddie said and dropped the blanket.
Steve smiled, blushing. It still made him blush and giggle every single time that he saw his boyfriend naked.
"So, you don't think I need to lose a few?" Steve said.
"Okay, baby, what's this about?" Eddie asked, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"I just need to do something," Steve said.
"Honey," Eddie said. "Are you really this upset that you can't get pregnant?"
"Don't laugh," Steve said.
"I would never, but I think I have a solution," Eddie said. "Your parents never allowed you to have an animal in the house, and we both like cats. The house now belongs to you, so how about we go down to the shelter today and rescue a cat?"
"Let's do it," Steve grinned.
"We can take Dustin along, and he can help pick out his baby brother or sister," Eddie said. "We can make it a family outing."
"You still projecting on Dustin?" Steve asked.
"Of course, why?" Eddie asked.
"Just making a note that you're just as upset as I am," Steve replied.
Eddie laughed and kissed him. He brushed his hair against Steve’s face, tickling his cheek. Steve laughed, getting a whiff of Eddie's shampoo that he used last night. They got dressed and called Dustin. His mom had gone to work early, so he hadn't had breakfast yet. On the way to Dustin's, they picked up breakfast and ate it in the back of Eddie's van with the doors wide open.
"So, why did you guys need me with you today?" Dustin asked as they wandered through the shelter.
"You should be here when we pick out your younger brother or sister," Eddie replied.
"Jeeze, no wonder you get along so well with my mom. You're both crazy cat ladies," Dustin replied.
"Rude. . .Gasp, Steve, look at this kitten! Aww, she only has one ear!" Eddie exclaimed. "Gasp! Steve, she has your eyes."
"Eddie, she's a cat," Steve said.
"And she has my hair," Eddie said.
"She's not related to us at all," he told his boyfriend.
"You know what? I can totally see it," Dustin said.
"What are you doing?" Steve hissed.
"He's a crazy cat lady who bought us breakfast this morning," Dustin said. "I'm siding with him."
Eddie was given the kitten by the volunteer and cuddled her to his chest. Suddenly, Steve could see it now. Steve smiled and cooed at the kitten in Eddie's arms. The kitten sniffed Eddie's hair, gagged, and threw up on Eddie's shirt.
"Stevie. . .I don't think she likes my new shampoo," Eddie pouted.
Version 2: Baby Bat
"So, you don't think that I need to lose a few?" Steve asked.
"Okay, baby, what's this about?" Eddie asked, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"I think that I'm starting to show," Steve said biting his lip.
"You're kidding," Eddie said with wide eyes and dropped to his knees. "Oh, there it is. A perfect little bump. Hi, Bumpy."
"Bumpy Munson? Yeah, I don't think so," Steve scoffed.
"Well, obviously, it's not going to be their actual name, but we need to call them something other than 'hey, you!" Eddie said. "Wait, the kid is going to take my name?"
"Of course," Steve said softly. "I love you."
"I love you too and our little bump," Eddie said, kissing his stomach.
He pressed his cheek against his stomach as he hugged Steve’s waist. Steve sighed and dragged his fingers through Eddie's hair.
"You know. . .while you're down there, maybe you can show me just how much you love me?" Steve asked coyly.
"Oh, I like the way you think, big boy," Eddie purred.
Of course, that's when Steve caught a whiff of Eddie's new shampoo, and his stomach churned.
"Oh. I don't think Bumpy likes the new shampoo," Steve said.
He pushed Eddie away and rushed to the bathroom. He emptied the contests as he kneeled over the toilet. Steve heard the sound of a cabinet door opening and a hand pressed to his back. Once he was done, Steve turned to find his boyfriend wearing a shower cap, and he laughed.
"God, I love you," Steve said.
"I do plan on rewashing my hair, sweetheart, so you might want to hurry and brush your teeth," Eddie said softly.
Steve quickly brushed his teeth and then turned to Eddie.
"I know I was geared up for it, but can we just lay naked in bed today without -" Steve trailed off.
"Sweetheart, you and that little bump are more important than sex. I love doing anything with you, especially if it's naked cuddling," Eddie said. "It's about as close as I can get without actually crawling inside of you."
"Did I mention that I love you?" Steve asked.
"Once or twice today, but it's always nice to hear," Eddie said. "Now, get. Go on, get."
Steve laughed and went to the bedroom, where he slipped under the covers. Eddie came back with his hair in a towel and laid down on the bed next to him. Steve curled up against his chest.
"I know you wanted to go to the park today. I know how much you like scaring the conservatives, but I just always feel so gross after throwing up," Steve said.
"It's alright, sweetheart. I've got you," Eddie said softly, trailing his fingernails up and down Steve’s naked back.
"This is nice," Steve whispered.
Eddie kissed his forehead, opened his mouth, and began to sing.
Part Five
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silversnakes-yan · 7 days
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✲𝓐𝓻𝓵𝓸 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓳𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼✲
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Arlo sat at the kitchen table, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. Across the room, you laughed with his two younger sisters, Lucia and Sofia. They were sprawled on the living room floor, flipping through an old photo album and reminiscing about their childhood adventures. Every so often, you would glance over at Arlo, your eyes twinkling with amusement, before returning to the stories Lucia and Sofia were eagerly recounting.
"So, Arlo used to dress up in Mom's old clothes and pretend to be a pirate," Lucia giggled, pointing to a picture of a five-year-old Arlo in a makeshift pirate costume, complete with a frilly blouse and a scarf tied around his head.
You laughed, your voice ringing out in the room. "I wish I could've seen that!"
Arlo's face flushed red. "That was years ago. And it was for a play," he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
Sofia smirked and turned to you. "You should hear about the time he got stuck in a tree trying to rescue a kitten. He was up there for hours before Dad got home to help him down."
"Really, Sofia? Do we have to go through every embarrassing moment of my life?" Arlo snapped, his irritation clear.
You smiled sweetly at him, your eyes full of mischief. "Oh, come on, Arlo. It's fun learning about your childhood. Besides, your sisters have so many great stories."
Lucia and Sofia exchanged a knowing glance, their grins widening. They loved teasing their older brother, especially when it came to his new relationship. They could tell how much Arlo liked you, and they’re delighted in pushing his buttons.
"You know, Arlo," Lucia began, her voice innocent but her eyes dancing with mischief, "maybe if you hung out with us more, They wouldn't have to hear all these stories from us."
"Yeah," Sofia chimed in, "we're just trying to help them get to know you better. It's not our fault if they like spending time with us."
Arlo's scowl deepened. "I spend plenty of time with them. You two just happen to be around all the time."
You get up to sit with him at the table. You reached out and squeezed his hand, your touch instantly calming him. "It's okay, Arlo. I like your sisters. They're fun."
Arlo sighed, his tension easing a bit. "I know. It's just... they always do this."
Lucia and Sofia burst into laughter, their eyes twinkling with glee. "We love you too, big brother," Lucia said, giving him a mock salute.
Sofia leaned closer to Lucia, whispering loudly enough for Arlo to hear. "You know, he gets really cute when he's all grumpy and jealous."
Arlo's face turned a deeper shade of red. "I am not jealous!"
You giggled and leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Maybe just a little," you teased.
Arlo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't see why you like hanging out with them so much."
"Because they're great," you said simply, looking up at him with a smile. "But you know what? You're pretty great too."
Lucia and Sofia made exaggerated gagging noises, but their eyes were soft as they looked at their brother and his girlfriend. Despite their teasing, they were genuinely happy to see Arlo with someone who made him so obviously happy.
Arlo grumbled under his breath, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Just... don't tell them about the time I tried to bake a cake and set the kitchen on fire, okay?"
Lucia and Sofia burst into laughter again, and even you couldn't suppress her giggles. Arlo sighed, resigned to his fate. But as your laughter mingled with his sisters', he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind so much after all.
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