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sansaorgana · 1 month

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— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,�� you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #tyrell oc #lilysfiction

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sophiebaek · 12 days

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Sophie is Korean!

Things to keep in mind

———

Yay! Sophie Baek is finally here and with all of excitement of this casting, I think it’s also important to bring attention to the new intersectionality that comes with the character of Sophie (specifically show Sophie).

Why should you take my words into account? Well, as an Asian woman in society today, I feel that I am qualified to speak on this topic since I’ve experienced all of this.

All of my words come from kind intentions, and I purely just want to communicate to the fandom how to approach Sophie being Asian in a respectful way.

Asia is a gigantic continent filled with various countries that have a multitude of cultures and ethnicities. While on the surface they all seem similar, they each have their own customs and traditions that have meaning within our culture. Do not combine them.

It’s important to remember that not every Asian person is Chinese, Japanese or Korean (East asian).

With Sophie being Korean, please do not generalize when writing about what you think you know about Korean culture.

You like Kpop and Kdrama? Great! BUT that does not define what Korean culture is and you shouldn't use that content as a reference.

When writing, be aware of explicit and unconscious biases you have about Asian people.

Asian stereotypes (Model Minority, Dragon Lady, Lotus blossom, etc) are very harmful and spread false narratives about us. Stereotypes eliminate the dimensions of who we are as Asians (South, South East, East, North, West).

Please, please, please do not fetishize. Especially since Bridgerton is a romance series it's extremely important to be mindful of the scenarios you put in your fics.

This also includes the White Savior Complex we see a lot in media!

If you’re writing about something specific, research it and fully understand the content you are putting into your work. Feel a little iffy about if you should put it in your fic? Probably don’t then. It’s that easy!

It's always great to ask someone who is a part of the community as well to see if what you're writing about is appropriate or potentially offensive in any way.

Describing Sophie is something new as well. Be mindful on how you describe her and other Asian characters.

Let me be clear: descriptions like 'slanted eyes' or 'yellow skin' are harmful

Here are some great resources that go into further detail about specific things! Rather than me paraphrasing their words it's best to link the direct source. Even as a part of this community, these articles were a reminder of how I must keep myself in check as well!

Describing Asian Eyes

Some important tips on making/writing Asian OCs

writing east asian characters

The Depiction of Asian Characters - Book Edition

The Dragon Lady, the Lotus Blossom, and the Robot: Archetypes of Asian Women in Western Media

To wrap this up, I want to be clear that I’m not a professional on this topic, but as someone who has been affected by harmful portrayals in media, I feel compelled to share my perspective. My hope is to spread awareness and encourage others to be mindful of how they approach these subjects, especially if they may not be fully informed. It’s about showing respect, doing the necessary research, and recognizing the impact our words and content can have on real people and cultures. By staying educated and considerate, we can be more aware and thoughtful in our actions.

#researching before writing about Sophie? very mindful very considerate #pls pls don’t write anything offensive 😘#shout out to the group chat for proofing!!#my protectiveness and connection to Sophie has multiple so much now that she’s Asian #u know who u r 🫶🏼#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #sophie baek #asian sophie #bridgerton writing #bridgerton fic

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littlemissayu · 10 months

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“YOU SPOKE!!” – Their kids first words (Night Raven 3rd Years-Malleus & Lilia)

A/n: Yes I ‘m well aware I haven’t updated/posted my other oc request from my event, even though it ended over a month ago BUT it’s getting done and I will try to finish as fast as I can. I ‘m just posting this because it’s been delayed forever and I need something to get my writing juices going.

If you see me mention gender it’s based off of my Twst boys as Parents series that you can find here!!

Warnings: FEM! Reader, pregnancy,domestic fluff, babies(ofc), google translate translations, I’m only doing their first kids/first set of kids

pairing(s):3rd Years x fem!Reader(separate/romantic)

Yummy/Delicious- Hears you say it everytime Trey makes a really good baked treat(aka all the time). Now I know delicious is probably a hard word for a baby to say which is why I also have ‘yummy’. They say it for the first time after Trey gives them a small part of a macaroon. You could just see how Trey’s eyes lit up when he heard his little one speak for the first time!!

Smile!!/Cheese!!- The two of you (mostly Cater) always say these phrases to your kids, so it’s no surprise when their first words are smile and cheese. With the family album(that I 100% believe Cater would start making once you get pregnant). When Cater heard his babies speak for the very first time he got super sentimental and excited calling you over(if you weren’t already there)

Papa!- Now this is solely based on my personal headcanon that Leona’s first kid would be a girl and a total Daddy’s girl. Always with him, even though you carried her for 9 MONTHS, homegirl got evicted from the womb and wanted to follow around papa. I also believe this happened as he was getting something and turned his back to her so she tried to get his attention. His ears immediately shoot up and his eyes open wide. He instantly picks up his cub and rushes over to you to tell you what your daughter just said. But dw, her next word ended up being mama. Is so proud of his little girl~

Pretty!- You’re always saying this to your husband so she eventually just picks up on it. Also hears other people saying it about either you or Vil; not to mention you and Vil do occasionally call her “pretty girl”. So she’s just surrounded by the word so it's no shocker when it’s her first word. Vil just beamed at his daughter, truly feeling the sentiment. His little girl, his pride and joy has spoken for the first time BUTTTT sadly he wasn’t there to witness it. So all that happened when he came back from work. He almost left early after you told him over the phone. But he could be more proud of his kleiner engel.

Up!!- Now this is because this little Hunt loves being picked up, especially when her father is flying on his broom. They love the feeling of being high up and flying through the sky with her father. Rook is always open to giving his petit oiseau what they ask. When his little one said their first words he couldn’t help but outburst with joy. He couldn’t stop praising them for speaking, then when you came in or called out to him/your child, he began praising you for giving this wonderful child.

Play!!/Uh oh- Now 2 things to establish, 1. Ik “uh oh isn’t a word” but I’m just gonna have to count it and I will explain why 2. Why are there 2 different words, well if you read this fic here!!, you’ll learn that I believe Idia has twin boys therefore I wrote 2 different words. Now onto my explanation; for ‘play’ it just makes sense, sitting on his dad’s lap watching him play games that say and display the word ‘play’ on the title screen ofc that would be his kid’s first word it just makes sense. Now for your other twin boy this was his first “word” because whenever Idia gets frustrated on the game at a certain point he hears you say “uh oh”, meaning “Dad’s about to burst”. They also have learnt(bc they're a very smart child) that they can use this for other times when something is about to go wrong so they do say it when something might go wrong. Idia seemed nonchalant at first place but then a smile grew on Idia’s face from his adorable talking twins.<3

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

Pomefiore Masterlist

Ignihyde Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #domestic #tw babies #babies #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader

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nochukoo97 · 9 months

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new beginnings

pairing: ceo!jungkook x figureskater!oc

warnings/summary: oc takes up a new job as a cashier, and she gets a CAT, jk is a little grumpy but he gets better, he’s also annoying by calling oc’s cat a cottonbud LOL, he calls her sweetheart, and oc has a little crushy crush on this hot neighbour, they bump into each other three times, basically they’re destined to meet each other even when they barely know each other

word count: 2.4k+ / TAGLIST OPEN

series masterlist!

“Goddamn, how many pieces of clothing do you own?” Yeji grunts as she helps to pull along two of your suitcases into her apartment’s lift.

“It’s all costumes for my competitions, my coach keeps insisting to keep them in case we need it in the future,” You internally sigh at the thought of your coach, she wasn’t bad by all means, but she constantly pushed you to your limits with countless competitions she enrolled you in. But after all, you didn’t come to Seoul and join the national team expecting a smooth and comfortable journey.

“Anyways, you’ve gotta tap the card right here,” She explains the whole crazy security system here, then passes you the access card to the apartment. One week ago you would’ve probably not expected to be in this situation, now moving in with your best friend, as well as her boyfriend who has begun to sleepover at her place more often than necessary. But right now if it meant that less money would fall out of your bank account, putting up with whatever third-wheeling you were about to go through would make it all worth it.

You pull your other two suitcases into the lift, noticing a man shuffling into the corner to make space for the two of you and your four huge suitcases. The lift door closes and there’s this deafening silence that fills the lift, with the way Yeji widens her eyes at you but says nothing, you assume it might be about the latter standing in the corner of the lift.

“What kind of signals were you trying to send me in there?” You whine when the lift door finally closes, as Yeji abandons the now-rolling-away suitcases to grab onto your hands.

“It’s rolling!” You exclaim, as she jumps slightly, your voice raising a little louder than usual in panic.

“Sorry-sorry, anyways, he’s the guy I told you about! Maybe I can set you up with him,” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, giving you the same taunting look she did when she had proposed moving into her apartment.

“No! I don’t even know that man, anyways with those looks he might already be taken,” You brush your best friend off, anyways, you didn’t want a relationship right? When Yeji had told you about the hot guy in her apartment, you had immediately brushed the idea of being set up off, since that’s exactly how you met your ex, and it definitely did not end on a good note.

“Oh, so you’re attracted to him?” She jogs in front of you to look you in the eye, seemingly much more excited at her sudden discovery than you.

“What? No I didn’t say that? I just- whatever! Open the door!”

She only smirks at your stuttering, but complies as she opens the front door to her unit, and you’re greeted with a familiar sight that you now need to get used to calling home.

People had always praised you for being dainty and sweet, always dressed up in elegant costumes during your competitions, your moves on ice had always charmed the audience with how smooth you twirled and jumped.

You would like to say that they might change their minds when they spot you in this current situation: no makeup on, eyebags peeking through, in a neon green vest as you stare at the rows of cigarettes behind the cashier.

The younger you would have never expected to end up working part time in this convenience store, but here you are.

But somehow it didn’t seem too bad, you were the only worker here, besides a sweet lady who comes and sweeps the floor every evening, and the best part: you got to control the music.

To be honest, you may have been enjoying yourself a little too much with the way you hum to the music as you drink the complimentary-one-a-day coffee your manager had given you.

“One pack of menthol,” Your sudden peace is abruptly disrupted as you whip your head around, jumping slightly as you hear the voice sound from behind you.

Oh. It’s the same man from the lift, this time he’s wearing another suit in a different colour, but this time he seems much more drained than before.

“I said-” He repeats himself again, noticing your spaced out look as you stare straight at him.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry sorry, it’s been a long day,” You quickly gather yourself, mentally cursing yourself for checking out the man in front of you so shamelessly, but he only scoffs at your little mistake.

He’s either a total dickhead or is just having a bad day. Hopefully its the latter since as much as you hate to admit it, maybe he perhaps has caught your attention.

But the same man quickly walks out of the store the moment you return his black credit card, as you’re now once alone in the store, gathering your things to finally end your shift.

It’s only a few days later where you meet your next crisis, or rather a blessing in disguise.

An innocent trip to the local fair turned into you signing adoption papers for this fluffy little furball that you absolutely could not leave. To be fair, you were mainly there to find some cute accessories to buy, but the newly put up adoption booth had caught your eye.

The moment your eyes had met the beady little eyes of the small white cat, you couldn’t say no. Even if it meant paying thrice your income from working at the convenience store, anything would be worth this cat.

But then again, your heart sank further once the lady at the counter had told you the animals put up were free to adopt, or else they would be euthanised the following day. It almost made you attempt to calculate just how much it would cost to take care of all the animals here, but in the end you had settled to just bring the cat home.

“Yeji, hypothetically how mad would you be on a scale of 1 to 10 if I brought a cat home?” You press your phone in between your shoulder and cheek as you wrap the little cat in its blanket, snuggling the animal close to your chest in hopes to provide it more warmth.

“You’re kidding me right now,” You hear her sigh at the other end, “What makes you think we can raise a cat? Let alone you working night shifts and being out at training in the day?”

She wasn’t wrong, but you’re pretty sure it’ll all be okay.

“Trust me, the lady managing the adoption booth told me cats are way more independent, we can get her an automatic feeder and I’ll need to get a litter box too, and maybe some toys and treats on the side too…”

She sighs again, “And that’ll cost a gajillion dollars, where are you going to get that from?”

“I’ll find a way, trust me,”

Truth to be told, the package deal you had got for litter and food was a little more pricey than you had anticipated, but you were confident that it would save you money in the future anyways.

Cloud, the newly named cat, of which you spent many hours deciding on a name for her, was easier to handle than expected, she often played with the little gadget toy Yeji had got her, and learnt how to use her litterbox in a day, which made you come to a conclusion that you had raised a genius.

But yet your oh-so-smart furkid may also be a little too intelligent, the absence of a certain cat in the apartment has now caused your anxiety and hysteria.

“How did she manage to escape with us not noticing again! The last time I saw her crawl through your legs but this time I swear she disappeared into thin air!” You’re on the verge of tears as you tell Yeji, who only rubs her palm up and down your back as a offering of comfort.

“But you’ve got her tagged up, your number and her name is attached to her collar, I’m sure anyone who finds her will definitely call you immediately,” She tells you, watching as you now begin to hiccup, tears forming and rolling down your cheeks.

“What if she got run down by a car? Or some psychopath who hates cats found her? Oh my poor baby, she must be missing me already,” There’s a million different scenarios that play through your head, all leading to Cloud ending up in nowhere else but cat heaven.

“She’ll be fine, calm down, my friend’s cat often runs out of the house but the cat always returns every few days, some of them prefer to go out and explore, perhaps Cloud is the same,”

You can only sigh and hope for the best.

unknown number: hey

unknown number: did you lose a cat?

You gasp to yourself when your eyes scan the new text that had appeared on your screen, someone had found her.

you: YES

you: DON’T DO ANYTHING TO HER PLEASE

you: i promise ill pay anything for you not to do anything

Your heart beats frantically in your chest watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again. There was no way a psychopath had truly found Cloud and already decided to perform whatever possible traumatic procedure on her right?

unknown number: why would i do anything to it??

unknown number: in fact your cat is the one who had run into my apartment and marked her territory all over.

Oh. That was the last thing you had expected.

you: do you have a litter box in your house?

The three dots taunt you as they appear once and pause for a good minute, as if whoever is on the other side is pondering hard to answer your simple question.

unknown number: what kind of question is that??

unknown number: i dont own a cat, why tf would i own a litter box??

You frown at the reply, you were grateful he didn’t do anything to Cloud, but a simple no would be great.

you: just send me your address!!

you: i need to see if she’s alright, she probably is crying for me right now

unknown number: it’s sleeping peacefully under my bed right now, i dont think its upset at all.

unknown number: here’s the address: xxx

You sigh in relief when you realise it’s the unit above your apartment, which meant she couldn’t have gone too far.

you: first of all, you never know if she’s crying in her heart

you: second of all, stop calling Cloud an it!!! she has a name and she is a girl

you: third of all, im coming upstairs im in the same apartment complex

You roll your eyes when a reply comes in faster than it did before, mostly because it’s an insult to your cat:

unknown number: who names a cat cloud?? she looks more like a cotton bud, hurry and get her.

When you reach the floor above you, you’re met with a black door, no doorbell in sight. So you simply knock, sure that it had been the person that found Cloud since it was the only unit on the floor.

What you didn’t expect is to be met with the same man you saw whilst working at the convenience store. Instead he’s in a loose shirt and some shorts, hair not styled as a few pieces of bangs fall over his eyes. His presence daunts you a little, considering how darkly lit his place was, and how he towered over you.

“Oh? So we meet again,” He seems to recognise you as he steps aside, watching as you take off your bedroom slippers, which you now curse at yourself for wearing since it was pink and fluffy.

You think you hear a little laugh when he spots your slippers but you choose to believe he didn’t anyways.

“Where is my baby?” You step in now, taking in the view of his place. It’s a little larger than Yeji’s apartment, and the interior seems… lacking some colour. It’s mostly black and grey furniture, with hints of marble and some white chairs here and there, but it’s a total opposite of your apartment.

“Don’t think she cares enough to be your baby, but your baby pissed all over my balenciaga shoes and my dumbbells,” He deadpans, nodding his head to show you the dark pair of shoes that now hang at the window, you assume to dry them out.

“Your what shoes?!” You almost turn pale at the mention of the designer brand, there’s no way he might ask you to get him a new pair right?

“Forget about that, go and get Cottonbud out of my room,” He walks into the hallway, looking back once to check if you follow him.

“What did you just call her?!” You yell at him from behind as he enters a room, a bed coming into sight and a much too familiar tail that sticks out from under the bed.

“Cloud!” You’re far too busy attempting to reunite with your cat to bother hearing another reply from the man, but the moment you come closer to the swaying tail, Cloud dashes away from your grasp and hides at the very deep end from under the bed.

“Looks like someone isn’t too keen on seeing you,”

You whip around, a frown on your face as you are met with the man who smirks, almost taunting you.

“Shut up,”

“What’re you gonna do now then? The cat’s gone further under the bed, I can’t reach there either,” He has his hands on his hips, standing and waiting for your reply.

His gaze and posture makes you feel small, and not having a single clue what to do fuels this feeling in you. And perhaps add some butterflies in too and it’ll perfectly describe how you are feeling.

“I- I don’t know! I’ve never had to deal with this situation before!” You’re pacing up and down, glancing at the bed, hoping Cloud would magically pop out and leap into your arms so you can run home away from this man.

“Well I’ve got all day sweetheart, you can slowly find a way to get Cottonbud out of my house,”

“Her name is not Cottonbud!”

“Whatever,”

TAGLIST: @skzthinker @cherrysainttt @vminkookgf @lilaissa @jjeonjjk7 @armystay89 @canyon-lwt @junecat18

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook x you

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

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Better Care

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!teacher!reader

Summary: One of your students is absent, and you worry about her until you return home and see her with your husband, Tim Bradford. He's taking care of her following the death of her parents, but neither of you want it to be a temporary arrangement.

Warnings: angst, parental death (OC Lilliana), fluff, adoptive girl dad Tim Bradford

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (ignore the jack-o-lantern and focus on the handsome boy)

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your classroom is one of the most welcoming places you’ve ever stepped foot in. You and your husband Tim worked tirelessly over the summer to make your classroom feel like a second home to your students. Being a teacher is your dream job, something you worked for throughout college, and you continue to strive to do better each day. Teaching second grade can be challenging, but the rewards outweigh the bad days and the tiring students. Being in your room early like this is one of your favorite things; it’s quiet, the day is full of potential, and you have time to prepare for your day and your students.

While you put your things away and begin placing morning worksheets on each desk, you put a personalized sticky note beside each and hope for a good day. This year has been good so far, but your students can always benefit from a little reminder that they’re doing well.

Meanwhile, Tim is seated in roll call and mentally preparing for a good day. He doesn’t have quite as much faith in people as you do, but he knows that what you do is important, so he supports you in all you do. Visiting your class has also become one of his favorite pastimes, and whenever Wade asks for someone to do community outreach, he finds himself sitting beside you and talking to your class. Your students love him, too, and ask about him often. As Wade greets the officers, Tim decides to drop by and surprise your kids (with your permission) soon.

“Good morning,” you greet with a smile as you walk to your desk.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradford,” your class answers together.

“Who’s ready for a good day?”

They cheer, and you chuckle at their excitement to learn. Though you wouldn’t admit it to many people, this is your favorite class so far. After they silence, you give them directions to complete their morning worksheets as you fill out your attendance report.

When you reach the bottom of the list, you look around the room with your lips pursed.

“Where’s Lilliana?” you ask.

“She isn’t here, Mrs. Bradford,” one of the girls in the front row replies.

“Her backpack isn’t in her cubby,” another student adds.

“Okay. Thank you,” you reply.

You mark her as absent but hesitate before you input the report into your computer. Using the paper before the computer is unnecessary, but you like being able to walk around and actually see your students as you fill out the attendance. Not seeing Lilliana unsettles you. She loves school, to the point that she cried in your arms once when she was checked out early to go to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe she’s just running late or not feeling well. You make a note to check with the officer later before returning your attention to the students who are present and nearly done with their worksheets.

“Bradford, Chen, we need you at my location for a double homicide,” Angela radios. “The neighborhood’s blocked off from the main streets, so come in from the east side.”

“10-4,” Tim answers.

He sighs as he returns the radio to the dash. There are plenty of ways he could be spending his day, but babysitting a crime scene doesn’t sound like the most exciting or the best use of his time. But, this is Tim’s job, and he’s good at it, so he hits the sirens and drives to the entrance Angela directed him to.

“Hi, Marsha,” you greet when the school secretary answers. “My student Lilliana is absent today, and I wanted to check if her parents have called. I’m just worried about her.”

“Oh, yes, sweet Lilli,” Marsha says. You can hear her keyboard click as she types. “I haven’t received a call about her, but I could call them if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for checking, Marsha.”

“She has perfect attendance. Strange that she isn’t here today.”

“I thought so, too. Maybe she’ll be here before lunch.”

“If she isn’t, let me know, and I’ll reach out for you, hun.”

“Thanks, Marsha. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

“You, too. I’ll see your class when they head to recess.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You end the call more distraught than you were before. It’s completely out of character for Lilliana to miss school, but for her parents to not call and explain why is even stranger. When she left forty minutes early for a doctor’s appointment, her mom told you two weeks in advance and insisted that it would be okay to give her more homework for anything she may miss. As your class returns from their extracurricular, you tap your fingers on your desk to expel your nervousness before beginning a math lesson. You’re tempted to call Tim and let him calm you down, but he’s busy too. You’ll just have to worry about Lilliana later.

Tim closes the shop door behind him and waits for Lucy. They approach the crime scene together, and Lucy whispers about how many people are surrounding the house.

“Double homicides usually require a lot of hands,” Tim informs.

“And that’s all we are today?” Lucy inquires.

“Welcome to police work, boot.”

“I’m not a boot,” Lucy grumbles.

“Bradford!” Nyla yells across the front lawn.

Tim nods as he raises the crime scene tape. Lucy goes under first, and he surveys the bullet holes littering the front of the house as he walks across the grass.

“What happened?” Lucy asks.

“The caller said-“

Someone yells Tim’s name, though the fear and tears mumbling it make it sound like “Off’cer Bra’ford!” He turns quickly and sees a young girl running toward him. She jumps toward him, and he bends to catch her easily.

“Lils,” he says as he pulls her against his chest.

She cries harder in his hold, her face pressed to his shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Tim recognizes her from the number of times he’s visited your class, but seeing her here, like this, during a school day, concerns him.

“What is she-“ Tim begins, looking toward Angela.

He realizes quickly. Between her presence at this specific house and the look Angela gives him, it’s easy to deduce. Her parents are inside.

“Lils, do you want to go sit in my police car?” he asks kindly, rubbing a large hand over her shaking back. “We can turn on the sirens.”

She nods before she pulls back. Her face is streaked with tears and a deep frown starkly contrasts her usual smile, the one that is on her face from the moment she steps into your classroom until she leaves.

“And the lights?” she whispers.

“Of course.”

Tim nods toward Angela and Nyla before he shifts Lilliana to his hip. He positions her so she can’t see the house as they walk. When she points to the firetruck waiting down the street, Tim takes a quick detour to see it. He sits in the driver’s seat of his shop with her on his lap. She lays her hands on the wheel and giggles before he shows her where the switch to turn on the lights and sirens is. Tim considers calling you, but you’d leave work, and he isn’t sure of the full story yet, anyway. So, for now, he’ll try to comfort her and distract her until they have more answers.

Back in the house, Lucy follows Angela through the rooms and looks at the damage caused by the murderer.

“Did she see anything?” Lucy asks. “The little girl?”

“We don’t think so. She was in the backyard when we got here. Definitely heard it, though. We’re not sure of anything. The woman is her mother, and there’s a male victim as well, but…” Angela trails off. “Until we get more answers, we’ll have to trust child services to get any answers she may have.”

“She knows Tim, maybe she’d talk to him,” Lucy suggests.

“Yeah, she’s in Tim’s wife’s class. That’s why I called you two. I was hoping you’d be willing to help secure the scene while Tim helps us work the case from a different angle.”

“Of course,” Lucy agrees.

Tim pulls Lilliana back into his arms when he arrives at the station. She hadn’t wanted to sit in the backseat until he promised to turn on the lights and stay with her the whole way. The moment he opens the door, she raises her arms toward him and clings to him.

“Use my office,” Wade says when Tim enters. “There’s some stuff in there I thought she may want.”

“Thank you,” Tim calls over his shoulder.

He closes the door behind him and sits in Wade’s chair. Tim expects Lilliana to climb out of his hold to search through the coloring sheets, a large bin of crayons, and toys littering the desk, but she only twists to sit in his lap.

“Which one?” Lilliana asks.

She pulls two coloring sheets toward her; one is a cop with a police dog and the other is a police car. Tim moves the chair closer to the desk so she can reach it to color as he taps the picture with the dog. She nods once before raising her chin to look through the different crayons. Tim unconsciously raises his arms by her sides to keep her steady as she leans over the desk. He watches her color and smiles at her enthusiasm.

“What color is this part?” she asks, pointing to the vest on the dog.

“Blue, black, or dark green,” he answers. “Since he’s brown, maybe do blue or green.”

“Can you help me?”

“Of course. With what?”

Tim leans forward and looks over her shoulder. She draws a line over the blank area at the top of the picture.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Well, you could draw a rainbow, or write your name…” Tim suggests. “Maybe even add another picture.”

“Rainbow,” she decides with a nod.

Someone knocks on the door, and Tim looks up. Wade shakes his head before he gestures toward a woman from child protective services.

“Grey,” Tim begins.

“It’s protocol, Bradford. I’m sorry,” Wade interrupts.

Tim takes a deep breath before he gently takes the crayon from her hand.

“Do you want to finish this later? We have to go see some people,” Tim explains.

“You keep it,” she answers.

Tim thanks her quietly before he stands. She lays her cheek against his shoulder, and he hugs her tightly before he sets her on the floor. Lilliana takes his hand and holds it firmly as they follow Wade out of his office.

“Hi, Lilliana,” the woman greets. “I’m Karen and I’ll be taking care of you for a while. Can you come with me, and we can talk?”

Lilliana shakes her head and tightens her grip on Tim’s hand.

“It’s alright, Lills,” Tim says. He squats beside her and adds, “She needs to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t want to,” Lilliana whispers.

“It’ll only be a few minutes, Lilli,” Karen says with a disarming smile.

Lilliana looks up at Karen and Tim sees tears building in her eyes even as she agrees. Tim reluctantly releases her hand and watches Karen lead her into a private room. Lilliana looks over her shoulder at Tim, her lip wobbles, and Tim hopes that she’s okay in there alone.

“What happens now?” Tim asks Wade. “Foster care?”

“Not today. They’ll take her to a shelter for tonight and push the paperwork through in the morning for foster care placement,” Wade answers. “You’ve done all you can do and more, Tim.”

“No, I haven’t. She’s gone through enough without having to move in with strangers who will never understand what kind of trauma she just experienced. You know that she won’t even be able to grieve in foster care,” Tim argues.

“It’s the way it is, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, prepared to argue that there has to be a better way, but is cut off by Lilliana yelling before she begins crying. He stands up straighter, letting his crossed arms fall to his sides, and watches the door. Her crying grows in intensity before Karen pulls the door open and steps out.

“Officer Bradford?” she calls. “I could use your assistance in here.”

Tim nods but turns to Wade to say, “Let me take her home. We’ll take better care of her than any shelter.”

He rushes into the room and Lilliana immediately calms. As she calms down, Wade knows that Tim’s offer to take her home is more than just seeing a kid in need. Tim is the man for the job for more reasons than Wade can count.

“Karen, a word?” Wade calls.

“Bye!” you call with a wave as your last student is picked up.

The moment your classroom is empty, your smile falls. You move quickly on autopilot as you clean up today’s mess. Lilliana’s desk is untouched, your heart-covered sticky note still adhered to her name tag. As soon as everything is tidy, you gather your things and walk out. There’s too much on your mind to hang around this afternoon. Though an empty house doesn’t sound much better than an empty classroom, at least you won’t have to look at an empty desk with no answers about where its usual resident is.

When you pull into your driveway, you’re surprised to see Tim’s truck. He’s supposed to be at work for a few more hours, but you certainly won’t complain about his early return. You rush inside to tell him about your day and hug him tightly, but you stop short when you see the living room.

Dozens of bags, an oversized coloring pad, and a dismantled police car model litter the room. Tim is leaning back on the couch with none other than Lilliana asleep in his lap. Your eyes widen at the sight, and he sends you a close-lipped smile as he waves for you to come over. After you set your bag in its proper place, you sit beside him on your knees. Lilliana looks peaceful, you think, but you have so many questions that you don’t dwell on it long.

“She wasn’t at school today,” you whisper.

“Lucy and I got called to a double murder,” Tim explains. “She was there when we arrived and ran straight to me. Child services was going to put her in a shelter tonight, then foster care in the morning. I- uh, I couldn’t let her go through that, too, not with everything else she’s struggling with right now.”

“So, her parents were…”

“As far as we know, yeah. Her mom was ID’d at the scene, but Angela and Nyla are still working.”

You raise your hands to cover your mouth as your eyes water. Tim extends his arm toward you, and you twist to sit beside him. The movement jostles Lilliana, and you freeze as she stirs. Her eyes open briefly, and she smiles when she sees you. She moves so she’s between you and Tim, but drifts back to sleep quickly.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper to Tim.

He shakes his head and rubs your shoulder in response. You can’t imagine sending her to a foster home, where she’s just another temporary resident who gets the parents a government paycheck each month. Especially after what she just went through.

“Are you working tomorrow?” you ask.

“I took the day off,” Tim answers.

“I will too. I feel terrible, Tim. Maybe if I had called her parents earlier-“

“Don’t,” Tim interrupts softly. “Don’t think like that.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Lilliana says as she rubs her eyes to wake. “I wanted to come to school today.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” you assure as she climbs into your lap. “It was boring without you, anyway.”

She giggles before asking you to color with her, and you happily agree. Tim watches you interact with her and knows that he can’t do it. He can’t let her go.

“Tim,” you say as you stand beside your bed. “Did Lills see it?”

Tim moves his head to gesture for you to join him. When you’re in bed beside him and wrapped in his arms, Tim kisses your forehead.

“We don’t think so. She’ll have to talk to a psychiatrist and the detectives soon, but she was in the backyard when they arrived. At the least, though, she heard it,” he answers.

You ignore the tears running down your cheeks, the result of sympathy and concern for the young girl sleeping across the hall from you. Tim wipes your cheeks gently and whispers that everything will be okay. You trust him, but you know it won’t be okay for Lilliana if she has to acclimate to an entirely new life just hours after her parents were killed.

A small knock on the door draws your attention away from Tim. Lilliana stands in the doorway holding the police dog stuffed animal Tim bought for her on the way home.

“What’s wrong, Lilli?” Tim asks.

You move out of Tim’s hold and walk toward her. She hugs you tightly and mumbles that she missed you, and you close your eyes to keep more tears from leaking out. Tim smiles when you look back at him and moves so that there’s more room in the bed. As you set her between you and Tim, he mouths I love you over her head, and you waste no time in replying.

The following morning, as Lilliana eats breakfast and watches Paw Patrol beside you, you look toward Tim. Beginning the conversation about not sending her into foster care is harder than you anticipated. You hesitate, but Tim smiles as his eyes meet yours.

“I know,” he answers before you begin.

You smile, glad that he knows you so well, and Tim pulls you close as he nods. You kiss him quickly before Lilliana calls for you. She raises a coloring of a cop, a woman, a kid, and a police dog.

“It’s us!” she cheers.

Tim smiles as you applaud her work. He’s as attached to her as you are, and he loves you so much that he knows exactly what you are thinking. This may not be exactly how he planned to become a parent, but he would do anything with you, even adopting one of your students. Seeing you interact with Lilliana in your home like this, though, makes Tim confident that he wants to have a child of his own with you, and Lilliana does seem like she would be a good big sister.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #the rookie x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

A MILLION YEARS AGO | jhs

pairing: idol!boyfriend!hobi x f. reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 4.6k

summary: when your faith in your healing wavers, hobi is there to go the extra mile for you.

taglist: join | playlist: million | cp: wattpad, ao3 | discord: join

warnings: near car accident, confusion in the body, iffy feelings towards an ex, seeing an ex for the first time in million years, being mistreated, religion, praying, oc smokes, hobi is the perfect boyfriend that i wish i had, oral sex (f. receiving), raw sexual intercourse.

note: i'm crying as i'm writing this because i'm so sad, but i promise this healed me more than i expected. as you know, i write little fics whenever something happens to me—and this is based off what happened yesterday. me and my cousin sat down at our smaller family event (not the one we had on friday, if you follow me on twitter), and she asked me if i were healed. and she told me about what she saw. i think it's meant to move me somewhere forward, otherwise i would've never got to see his face. i don't know. i hope you like this little fic, you know i had to write it out like i smoke out my feelings. i'm proud of this work in terms of the way it's written. think i kinda killed that. i love you guys. and i miss you, terribly. i love you.

side note: sorry for my vulnerability. a smaller side note: this is also for my baby @hoseokkie-caeks. i promised i would write a hobi one shot after berries, and here i am. <3 i love you, baby. miss you.

The night was dark. Too, too dark.

I sensed it swathing my bones long before I glimpsed at something I should and shouldn’t have—or rather someone, to be proper.

The trees remained unmoving, despite the summer breeze drifting through the macrocosm that unfolded with each and every footfall I shared with my beloved beside me. Hand in hand, we walked leisurely through streets that were prosaic until our energy imbued them with our intimate poetry. White swallowing, little by little, the dark. There was no one and everyone around us, but we didn’t see them; we merely saw each other, for we were in love and we deserved to be so. Hoseok after his hard, agonizing work regime and unfair treatment from his management and… the whole world essentially. Me after the way I had been treated, handled, tossed aside by the person I found inside the screen of a phone—inside a world that once used to be mine, but now is nothing but foreign.

Million, million years ago.

The stars were aligned just right, stringing together a shape of the wholeness and the throb of my heart, and we sat down to eat dinner with one of my closest friends that came to town—one me and Hoseok have settled in within the precious, year-long break that burst open in his work life. Hobi didn’t want to see people, at least not those who didn’t bear familiar faces, and I didn’t want to see the city, so it was the most fateful of compromises, most perfect of the kind that was naturally threaded between us; a conjoined idea that blinked within our brains at the same time. And the laughter that followed after we voiced it out at the same time, the long kiss that spread roots inside the pillows of our lips—to this day, it is a fond memory, or perhaps something beyond that, that embraces me at night before I enter the realm of dreamland, tugging me closer into the snug heat of Hoseok’s safe place that I regard his body to be.

Though before we arrived, I gazed up at that constellation of me through the windscreen as Hoseok’s car began to make a strange noise that unnerved him. I prayed for its rightness to be true and I prayed for our safe travel, as short as it was. According to our previous plan, we were supposed to wait for my friend, Hyun-Ae, and her boyfriend, Do-hyun, outside of the restaurant because she had a strong yearning to jump into my arms upon seeing me. My excitement for that to happen ripped my eyes away from the nightly heavens, searching for her in the dimmed lights of the mutely lively building, in the shadowed greenery surrounding it, near the trees that didn’t move, yet my hair did.

Strange, that dark energy.

I hoped she was peeing somewhere, where the light doesn’t reach. She invariably had a tendency to chug everything she drank and her bladder paid for it each time—but this time, she wasn’t squatting by a bush.

She almost didn’t get to me at all.

A driver, merely minutes away from entering our town, nearly swerved wrongly into the traffic lane that Do-hyun was driving through, yanking away the stars from the canvas of the heavens. He had to pull over and take deep breaths in order to stabilize his mental state as the thought of almost getting in a car accident with her being in the passenger seat triggered his long-fought panic attack. And because the woods at the beginning of our secluded town doesn’t have any service, we waited for them for half an hour without any knowledge of their whereabouts.

I bit my cuticles until they bled. Until Do-hyun’s lungs were lifted of its heaviness with Hyun-Ae’s help, his breathing evened out, and he was able to get behind the wheel and cross the distance.

Upon hearing what obstacles stood before us, I didn’t understand it at first. Hyun-Ae’s yearning was gratified, we hugged until our necks ached and our arms quivered in our stifling, long-coming hug with her legs wrapped around me, ate the food we always ordered when we were together and not apart while she filled me in—but I didn’t perceive the darkness for what it was until that very last detail.

One she wouldn’t provide until I promised her, a million times, that I was fully healed and ready to hear it. I didn’t know what she was about to uncoil, sitting beside me as she was, with her hands in her lap. But I should’ve known that those obstacles were put in our path for my preparation.

Hyun-Ae hinted, before she began articulating her discovery, that it was about my ex-love. I stiffened a little, taken aback. I downed a shot of the spirits that we had left. And I was being tugged in two different directions, thrown to and fro, asked by the lawlessness of life to choose.

Stay back and not go further—not let her tell me because Hobi doesn’t know the specifics about my last situationship.

Ask her to hold my hand and give her the consent to proceed as my curiosity was piqued and my wound was healed, a million years ago.

And in the short dwelling of the manhandling, my spirit of inquiry crowned, my fatal flaw. I chose the latter—because why would I not? I carry my heart in my chest for my beloved beside me proudly, for his waters mine with the fulfilling streams of his laughter and sound effects, gentleness and devotion. He has grown and nurtured monsteras within its past mutilated chambers—and the longer he cradled my life and made it his own, made it his endeared responsibility, the more healing flowers of wild, undomesticated origin bloomed against the verdure. The pair of us—Hobi, the elegant leaves with its perforation symbolizing the dimples above his mouth when he smiles; I, the chamomile that has the gift to make better, but everyone mistakes it for a daisy, tossing it aside.

Everyone but Hobi, the worker who cultivated it in me.

And caught in the snare of my pride, I wanted to know if my ex-love still remained in the exile of his emotional unavailability, fucking everything that walks on his solitary Pluto planet while I made love to the Sun three times a day, minimally.

Hyun-Ae gripped my hand with her lukewarm, refreshing touch as she told me that he was dating someone, fundamentally poisoning the girl with his ways like he did to me. That she didn’t understand what I had seen in him as he looked worse than ever before, a characteristic of the unhallowed set deep within his eyes. My lungs refused to inhale any particles of air; they must’ve taken a break from their work in order to process, at their own time, the information that was given to them. The male who pretended to date me while I edged his planet for years, laboring myself in order to heal him with my prayers and words because I believed him after he said he loved me, but he needed to get right first. Needed to unload his baggage and bandage up the slashes across his heart from his previous relationship.

All sweet nothing without an ounce of genuineness. He took pleasure from the way I stayed around while he hurt me again and again by entertaining other girls, my feet indented in the soft soil of the planet. It was a form of compensation for him. A some sort of merriment—and madness, unmitigated madness for me.

I lost my mind, standing upon that edge. And I had to get off in order to find it again, my hands outstretched beyond me—held by the invisible fingers of God while he taught me how to walk again, how to walk in a gravity-filled space of greenery, the rainbows of colors, the rain and the sunlight like a baby.

And I did.

I walked until my feet stopped in front of Hobi’s.

At first, I felt a sheer wisp of happiness for the guy that he managed to make such an immense step in that direction, however it flickered in me for mere seconds, replaced by a doom of nothingness that began to swim in me. Heavy, heavy nothingness that felt cosmically peculiar—and my body urged me to go outside and smoke it away.

But my mouth spoke first.

Who is she? Show me.

Hyun-Ae narrowed her chocolate pools at me, her brows furrowing until they darkened. Then, they flicked towards Hobi beside me and I followed her gaze—he was preoccupied with a heated conversation with Do-hyun and he didn’t hear a word shared between us. Hyun-Ae lowered her voice, nonetheless.

So you could compare yourself to her? No fucking way.

But I pushed. Driven by that nothingness in me, I desired to feel something. Hurt, pride—anything that would stir my body and give it what it asked. It was used to feeling great clouds of negative emotions in terms of the male, and now it was searching for it, in spite of the million years that have flown by since. And to shut me up and distract my mind from wanting the wrong things, she showed me a picture of him.

And upon seeing that dark characteristic of his eyes, gone, hollow and dead from the laws and the ghosts of the Pluto planet, my stomach clenched and I averted my gaze. My body rejected him—I couldn’t look at him for more than two seconds.

My good, smart body.

I fell into quietness, more gravely than the one this town was weaved with. Hyun-Ae’s eyes returned to their original round size, softening on me, and I held her hand tighter. I needed, vehemently, to smoke the descending nothingness away, and when I asked her to go outside with me, Hobi reached the conclusion of his conversation. Wrapped his slender fingers around my arm, tender sound effects, only for my ear to hear, slinking inside as he rubbed his nose against the place right beside it.

You wanna go smokie smokie? Hobi asked, gliding his fingers down my arm until he reached my wrist, the belly of his index tracing the blue and violet ‘V’ shape of my veins upon my left arm.

He grounded me.

I nodded, my smile natural, my love for him abounding, and Hyun-Ae encouraged me to go, gently slapping the side of my bum. And so I went, hand in hand, with him.

Our inherent, pristine characteristic.

Hobi stole my lighter once I fished it out of my purse. He didn’t smoke, but whenever he joined me, he thought it gentlemanly and proper to light up my cigarette for me. It’s the least I can do, he had explained and I had kissed him so hard for it that he blushed.

It’s what he does now, flicking his thumb upon the spark wheel until the small flame erupts and bathes us in a delicate, orange tint. I hold the cigarette steady between my lips with my two fingers and Hobi draws closer, appeasing my inner need. Waits for me to take that first drag before he prepares me for the rush of his enormous affection by heating the small of my back with his palm, rubbing the sensitive place. It’s something that I’ve learned he likes to do; take things slow so I open for him like a bud of flower. It gives him pleasure, the laboriousness of the process and the following harvesting, the dampness of my dew the evidence of his success.

It’s extremely attractive because he does it more for my sake than for his own.

He lets me take another drag, our visual connection a string stouter than the constellation up above, and I feel myself, nonvocally, giving over that heaviness of the nothingness with each exhale. I decompress and Hobi can see it, joining his other hand to my loins and dipping his head to my neck. He scatters tiny, weightless kisses upon that tenderness of me and I am lulled by his enticement, soothed and sleep-drunk, his pheromones and the cedarwood of his fragrance unfettering me.

I want to take him to bed.

And I tell him, innocently, with my hands that clenched the muscles of his arms rounding towards his pecs and lowering to his abdomen, the ivory smoke following my movement, but never touching him. Hobi knows this is my language of sensuality and his mouth parts as he feels the words.

“We should go.”

He lifts an arm and brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek, his fingers lingering upon the shell of my ear—his private obsession. His endeared eyes study my features for a fraction of time before he leans in and peppers a singular kiss to the button of my nose. “Why are you sad, muffin?”

The trees towering behind him move in a daze at last, but it’s a blurred swaying motion that merely divulges to me that the obstacles, the preparation and the dark energy have been conquered. And it helps me to speak a little.

“Hyun-Ae told me something I didn’t really expect to hear. Can I tell you on our way home?”

Hobi nods, cradling my cheek, and I melt.

“I can leave the car here and we can walk home. And in the morning, we can go grocery shopping in the city.”

I liquefy in his hold and I finish the last of my cigarette, kissing him feverishly and reciprocating the kisses he left upon my neck, sinking our domesticity into the column of his throat while he holds me and I drip into the fullness of him.

When we return to the restaurant, Do-hyun is by himself, informing us that Hyun-ae has gone to pee. The familiarity solidifies me and I sense upon me a moonlit energy of joy that cleanses me of the past. Hyun-ae perceives it long before I open my mouth and she jumps into my arms, telling me how she’s proud of me. We say our goodbyes, promise that we’ll see each other soon, and Hobi pays for the whole table, calming every inch of me.

I pray as we watch them drive off. I pray for their safe travel into the city and I pray over our car.

We walk through our miniature, unlit version of the city, breathing in the purity of the air, listening to the rustling of the leaves being fondled by the breeze. Hobi mimics the act of love, rubbing his thumb over my hand, and I feel at ease when I tell him about my first love, chain-smoking just to help me infuse poetry into my words.

With each detail, I forget it has happened to me as I unattach myself from it, consider it an element of the past that no longer has anything to do with me. Hobi lets me speak, doesn’t interrupt me, though I notice that as I venture into the brutality of the pain I waded through, his teeth grit and his jaw clenched, the preceding flush of his cheeks withering and falling beneath his skin, pallidness blanketing it in ashen gray. And it pushes me further into my process of letting go and forgetting for another million years to come.

He stops in the middle of the road once I finish the story. Gives me a mournful look that penetrates me so deeply that I mourn, too. His hands find my forearms, my shoulders and my clavicles. Prepare me for the treasure of the most sympathetic of hugs I have ever received in my life and I loosen up in his strong hold, bury my face in his black-clothed chest as his palm holds my head to him. And he kisses my crown, kisses my temple; strengthens me when he squeezes me until I can’t breathe and I grasp that he is cleansing the pollution of the monstera leaves and the chamomile petals.

And then he begins to speak, dampening me with a fresh layer of hydration.

“You had to walk through hell in order to find me and I shall spend my lifetime bringing heaven to you. I swear on my life, muffin,” he says, for the entirety of the peripheral corn fields and the trees to hear, as he cradles my face and makes me look at him. My vision blears as I regard him more as my savior than I ever have before, nodding my head in agreement as my eyelashes flutter, the finality of calmness settling down in me like we did in this town. “You’re mine. You were mine when you were with him, which is why fate didn’t allow him near you. Mine to find, mine to take care of, mine to love, kiss and dance with. Mine. You’re gonna keep blooming in my hands and you’re no longer gonna pray for him, you’d done enough of that already. You’re only gonna pray for yourself.”

This, I disagree with, dissolving sugar personified.

“No, I’m only gonna pray for you.”

Hobi pouts, his mouth rounding downwards, and his thumbs rub my cheeks, smearing my makeup—and I don’t mind. It’s always been his to ruin. He presses his nose and forehead to mine, breathing with me as the breeze swishes past. I slip my hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt, needing to feel his skin, and Hobi sighs against me. Withdraws a tiny bit and steals the breath he gave me.

“Teach me how to pray for you.”

I’m so struck with awe, wonder and my genuine love for him that I cannot speak, my lung failing, though differently this time. They swell up with the essence of my feelings for him, my devotion and my besottedness that my eyes well up before I can halt their rivulets. No one has ever prayed for me, certainly not a male I loved and looked up to. I spent years having my empty prayers echoed back to me and now the love of my life, my eternal beloved one, asks me to teach him how to pray for me.

Only the omnipotent Listener of my prayers could make this possible for me, and before I know it—my mouth gives my beloved the instructions, the contents of my knowledge that I learned along the trajectory of my somber, otherworldly life and then he’s whispering the voice of his heart into my ear.

“Dear God, please give my muffin the strength not to be pulled back into the life she had before me. Make sure she’s not influenced by it either. Take her burdens and give them to me because I can bear them. Relieve her heart and make her happy. Use me to do it.” He withdraws and drags his thumbs across my eyelashes, asking me to open them and I do. Once he has my attention, he seeks my guidance. “What do I say now?”

I huff a soft laugh, endeared. Kiss the edge of his hand. “Say thank you and amen.”

Hobi grins and the Sun peeks through the night. “Thank you and amen.”

My laughter gains volume and he wraps his lips around it, shushing me, kissing me madly, and I bury my fingertips into his short hair, reciprocating the different, different madness and expanding it. Weightlessness seizes me and I don’t feel my limbs, stupefaction firing me with enthusiasm and then tongues clash and the kiss gains a verve that forces me to collide my body with his and—

And then we’re dancing.

To a slow song he begins to hum with the deep raspiness of his voice. Our bodies are one, singular, intertwined as we move to the rhythm of our unified heart and I weep.

I weep in my joy. I weep in my contentment—and I weep in my love for him.

He touches my back all over, cupping my hair as if it was water, leading our bodies in the dance, and there’s no one around us, no cars coming, no animals to watch us—only the trees, the fields, the buzzing of cicadas and the breeze and the moon up above. And then he’s twirling me until I’m dizzy and my soft laughter reverberates through the spaciousness of the road that is ours at this very moment. And the Sun beams at me, my Sun, as he pulls me close and continues to dance with me. I feel the jealous shafts of the light of the moon digging into my back that I soon forget about because his lips pursue mine and I dwindle away into his magnetism.

His hands, his pheromones and his cedarwood fragrance take me to his bed.

And he’s feasting on me like the dessert he didn’t get to have at the restaurant, bent over as I am over the foot of the bed, my dress bunched in his fist over my loins and my panties pushed to the side. My hungry beloved, my parched Sun, nuzzling his face in my femininity while I drip my dew and moan his name for him. Sucking my clit, he keeps me hovering on the cusp of my orgasm and I tremble in my vulnerable position—face planted on the bedding while the lower half of my body is raised in the air for him. And once my throat begins to let out whimpers and incoherent pleas, he draws back, closes his body over mine until his lips explore my ear and there, there he teases me.

“What was that, my little muffin?”

I whine, grinding my ass into his groin, and he hums. It takes me back to his song and I apperceive that it is the only thing I ever want to be pulled back to. Reminiscent of it, his song is blackened by eroticism, by his enormous arousal, drenched by my dew and I need him. While I feel God, the Listener of my prayers, to be a glaring light in me, I need my beloved Hobi to be interwoven with it.

“I want you inside me. Please, I need it,” I beg, twirling my hips against his hardness like he twirled me in the middle of the road and Hobi sucks in a breath, exhaling it in the form of a whimper and I stoop in my heady longing.

Abruptly, he plops me onto my back and yanks my panties away. “I’m gonna marry you, you know that?”

I can only whisper my overwhelming agreement, my bones and my muscles too overcome with elation to do anything else. I would marry him tomorrow if I could. Go grocery shopping with him in the morning, unload it at home, put on my white silky dress and go to church with him by midday. Spend the rest of the day celebrating our union in bed, round after round until we get so exhausted that we submit to slumber, dreaming of our wedding, reliving it.

He takes off my dress, kisses my forehead, ruffles my hair around me, his thumb dragging across the skin beneath my lower lip as if he was fixing my smeared lipstick for the special day, getting me ready, and I change my mind. I would marry him right now if I could.

And I tell him.

“I would marry you right now.”

His eyes wet, casting a glimmering light upon my naked form, and a paroxysm of his joy gushes out of him and onto me. Hobi tickles my tummy with butterfly kisses, holding me down with his strong hands that he soon pins above my head, leveling with me, my dew drying on his face—yet he still glistens. Glistens with a gleam of bliss that washes over me.

“Then, let’s get married,” he murmurs, and seizes my lips with his own, kissing me so roughly that I instinctively open my legs for him, the heated pressure in between unbearable. And then he holds my wrists in one hand while the other unbuckles his pants, fisting his length and tugging on it. My favorite sight. He guides it to my sopping hollowness and with one hard thrust, that he knows I am wholly enraptured by each time, he sheathes himself inside me all the way, completing me. Rests at the delicate touch of our mounds. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve and then I’m gonna take you to church.”

And he gives it to me. Doesn’t pull out fully, but pounds me into the mattress. One hand gripping my wrists together, the other my jaw—ascertaining that my attention doesn’t fluctuate but remain fixed on him, on the twists of his features, on the guttural moans, his pheromones and his fragrance that trickle out of him and dunk into me while I struggle to take it all.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers, kissing my cheek and breathing against it, slowing down his strokes that scramble my brain. The tip of his cock grazes my cervix and I lose, I lose my identity.

My eyes flutter and he pries my mouth open with his thumb, providing me something to focus on as I intuitively suck on it, keeping my head afloat enough to answer.

“No, it’s just too big.”

Hobi hums, rewarding me with a peck on the mouth and the gradual speed of his thrusts. “You can take it, muffin. I know you can. You’ve shown me before.”

The praise, the belief in me—it all crests in lowest part of my sexuality and again, I edge around the cusp of my orgasm. Beads of perspiration line his forehead, soaking his hairline and he’s a sight to die for, the final piece to the fulfillment of my release. Blush reddens his cheeks, his irises enlarged and digging into mine. He doesn’t falter, continuing with his fast rhythm and I moan out poetry lines that make him squeeze his eyes shut.

“I’m gonna come for you.”

He groans. “Uh-huh, come for me, muffin. Give it to me. Show me again how well you can come on my cock. Yes, yes—”

Pluto bursts and ceases to exist. I come so vehemently that my spine arches off the mattress, colliding into Hobi’s chest. I shun out all constellations, all planets, the entire universe collapsing under the weight and gravity of my orgasm and our own marble, green, yellow and white with no one around but us, is called to creation with the bloom of Hobi’s own climax.

He stuffs me full, my hollowness and my mouth, kissing me so hard that I become dizzy all over again. Moans my pet name as he shoots out his ivory love for me, fucking into me sluggishly while the twitching of his cock enamors me even more. I swallow his voice, swallow his grunts and little curses. My iridescent, entranced spasms caused by his exuberance prolong until I don’t know where my head stands, where my legs are wrapped around or what body part of his my hands clench.

My savior, my beloved, linked to me for all eternity.

This must have been our wedding because I shall never be the same again, my mind and my heart swept clean and filled with brand new oxygen. I no longer remember what happened prior to our love-making and when I share that with him, Hobi is possessed with the need to do it all over again.

And he does, a million times over, until he marries me in the church of our town, with Hyun-Ae and Do-hyun present, mine and his parents and his sister with Mickey.

A wedding most perfectly extraterrestrial, on our own Hope planet, with nothing hurting, with no thoughts resurfacing.

Me and my beloved, me and my savior, me and my Sun.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild , @jjk7k , @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah , @fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

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ya9amicide · 6 months

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Redamancy [BTS]

chapter three

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

a/n: OMFG I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! Life has been like one raging tornado and has not slowed down in forever. My Wattpad was also deleted so I lost writing motivation for a long time too...But, I'm going to attempt to update this story more since I was so excited for it and I know you are too! Thank you to everyone who has left comments, I read them all and I really appreciate it! <3

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

taglist (crossed out = couldn't be tagged): @oopscoop || @writingwithmai || @osakis-gf || @hiefisch || @effielumiere || @singukieee || @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh || @littlrmills14-blog || @welcometomyworld13 || @chaimin || @demarie04 || @manic-atthe-disco || @blancflms || @ingyusart || @realrintaro || @braveangel777 || @ldysmfrst || @kpopmultistantrashsstuff || @vaishavi4w || @foreverddaeng

I decided to wake up early the next morning so that I could make breakfast for everyone. When I got downstairs, I noticed that it was still raining outside. Although it wasn’t as bad as last night, it still wasn’t anything that someone should be outside in.

Making breakfast was a challenge. This is the most food I’ve ever had to make at once. Not to mention that I have to make it as quiet as possible so as not to wake the hybrids with sensitive hearing.

About halfway through making breakfast, I heard light footsteps coming down the hall from the stairs. Turning towards the doorway of the kitchen, I see Seokjin peeking in. “Good morning,” I say and smile at him.

“Good morning,” his voice is still soft and quiet like it was last night. He fidgets in the doorway, watching as I move around the kitchen.

“Do you want to help?” I ask him.

He looks up at me, startled. “...Can I?”

“Of course. Do you know how to make pancakes?” He nods his head yes. “Great, then you can help me decide what kind to make. You know everyone’s preference better than I do so you’ll be a big help in making sure everyone eats happily.”

By the time the food was ready, we had made a wide variety of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and had several bowls of mixed fruits as well. Being hybrids, especially those like the wolf and tiger, they will have big appetites. In general, they all will as grown men so I don’t have any doubt that all of the food will be eaten in no time.

“Seokjin?” I ask and he looks up at me with a hum from where he was helping set the table. “I can finish this if you want to go get everyone up please?” He nods and scampers to get the rest of his pack.

A few minutes later, loud shuffling is heard as all seven of them make their way toward me in the dining room. “Good morni–oof!” In the middle of greeting them, I was interrupted by a bundle of hyper, furry, warmth in the form of Jungkook. He rushed to me as soon as he saw me and wrapped me in his arms in a tight hug.

The others look at him in panic. “Jungkook!” Several of them shouted in worry.

I just laugh, gently patting him on the back, causing him to practically melt in my arms. “Well, good morning to you too, bunny. Did you sleep well?”

He pulls away from me and nods erratically. “Uh-huh! The bed was so warm and cozy. I haven’t slept this well in forever. I almost didn’t want to get up when Jin came to wake us up.” He smiles brightly showing me his adorable bunny teeth and I can hear his foot thumping happily against the floor again.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” I think I’m starting to understand the fond looks I’ve caught the others throwing at Jungkook when they think he isn’t looking. “You could have stayed in bed a bit longer if you wanted. Although, I’m not sure breakfast would taste as good warmed up in the microwave as opposed to fresh off the stove.”

His bunny ears perk up on top of his head at the mention of food and he quickly shuffles to the table. Everyone watches him go in silence before we all follow him, moods lifted due to his enthusiasm.

I turn to the others who still seem to be waiting for me to make the first move, despite Jungkook’s gung-ho attitude. “Well go ahead,” I tell them, gesturing to the table. “You don’t have to wait for me, help yourselves.”

Like the previous night, they all shuffled around the table, clumsily finding their seats. They kept the same configuration as before; the predators surrounding the prey and effectively cutting me off. I don’t mind though if that’s what it takes to keep them comfortable here.

With the risk of irritating them, I spoke up. “So I figured we should set some ground rules, you know, besides the few from last night.” They all shuffled nervously, slowing their eating. Namjoon and Yoongi particularly seemed bothered by this sentence as their eyes narrowed slightly at me in response.

Sensing their worry I work quickly to console them. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” I wave my hands frantically.

Jimin peers at me curiously through his bangs. “What are the rules?” His voice was timid but it didn’t shake as he used it.

“Well, you guys are welcome to stay as long as you need to,” I say, smoothing the napkin down in my lap. “You can pretty much do whatever you’d like. The estate is big so there’s a lot to explore. I just ask that you be careful. This was my family’s home so lots of stuff in here has sentimental meaning.”

“I also ask that you maybe help around the house every so often…” I trail off as they all turn nervous and upset. “I’m not asking you to pick up a bunch of chores or anything like that! Maybe just help me keep tidy by cleaning up any messes you make. And Seokjin, I could tell you liked helping me with breakfast this morning.” The ferret hybrid turns slightly rosy with the attention now on him. “I would love your help every so often,” I say softly, chuckling under my breath. “Lord knows I’m not the best cook.”

They start to relax slightly but some tension remains, keeping the muscles in their bodies taught and hair on end.

They finished the rest of their breakfast in a slightly uncomfortable silence, the only sound heard was gentle chewing and the gentle scrape of forks against plates.

When morning pleasantries were done, they all stayed in their awkward huddle like the night before, waiting for me to give them instructions or dismiss them.

Jungkook shuffled in place and I could tell he wanted to say something. “What is it, Jungkook?” I asked, urging him to say what was on his mind.

“Umm…do you have any video games?” He asks shyly, bunny ears twitching nervously atop his head. The others look between the two of us timidly, as if waiting for me to snap at him for asking the question.

I chuckle softly, eyes lighting up. I’ve been waiting for someone who was enough of a challenge when it comes to gaming. “Of course I do!” I exclaim, ushering him to the spacious living room where my console sits.

I’m learning very quickly that Jungkook is very animated in the way that his body seems to speak for him most of the time. His nose twitches in excitement as he bounds towards the large sofa, picking up a controller.

Jin slowly makes his way to the couch, taking up the space next to Jungkook. The other hybrids exchange a glance, trying to decide which predator will stay with their more docile counterparts. Taehyung squeezes his way between the two on the couch, making it clear to me that they are under his watch at the moment.

Not saying anything, I plop down in the recliner a few feet away and turn my attention to the remaining hybrids. “You’re more than welcome to stay and play with us. If not, there’s plenty else to do. There’s a small library, a home theater, an art studio, and of course your bedrooms and any other rooms you can find something to do as well.” As I list off things they can do, I notice some of their eyes light up about certain rooms.

Namjoon’s face seemed to brighten when I mentioned the library and Taehyung’s ears twitched slightly at the mention of the art room. Something to keep in mind later when he’s done staking claim over his pack mates.

With no further instructions needed, the rest of the hybrids dispersed, venturing to various places across the house while I settled in to play video games with the few that remained.

#𐙚 sfw !#bts #poly bts x reader #hybrid bts #poly bts #bts x oc #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #park jimim #jung hoseok #min yoongi

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artemistorm · 2 months

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Here is my late rambling analysis of the new LU update:

I love Wind's face and posture. He's just like "Challenge accepted!" Hyrule and Wild my beloveds <3

A lot of people saw this sequence and went "oh no something bad is going to happen to Epona!" but I took it to mean that Epona doesn't want to go in the dungeon and that Twilight knows that Epona will be just fine hanging out outside (tasty snack time ehehehe).

I can't put my finger on exactly what's changed about the coloring but WOW it is popping. So vibrant. I love it. Made my eyes happy.

Also I love it when Jojo draws the gang in lines like this. It makes me think that she's doing it for fun (just like when you draw your OCs in lineups a million times cuz it makes you happy), that she still loves and takes great pride in showing off her blorbos.

Also, Wild is taller than Legend (and Hyrule) >:)

I love that he spelled this out to the others. Makes so much sense. In Lord of the Rings terms, most of the other Links are like Frodo and Sam running around to secretly bring the ring to Mordor, while Warriors is like Aragorn who straight up charged the Black Gates of Mordor with an army.

It's so funny how all the other heroes automatically assumed that Warriors' Hyrule had dungeons and that he just didn't bother to go through them. XD

So this implies that A) that comic where Wild and Hyrule met the wallmaster happened recently and B) it was sometime when Wars wasn't there with them, which makes me think that the wallmaster comic happened at the same time as this comic:

And then there's this:

I can't remember where I read it but I seem to remember Jojo saying that Legend was the most likely to prank others and this is an example of that. This is a characterization that surprised me at first (I would have expected Wind or Hyrule to be more of a prankster) but if you think about Who Legend Is, it actually makes a lot of sense.

I was trying to figure out which game this skulltula is from and my conclusion is that I think it is most similar to skulltulas from OOT 3D / MM 3D. I wonder if that means that they are in or near Time's time. Either that or this is a case of monsters getting mixed up between Hyrules like we saw in the Threatening Shadows story arc.

Time is clearly very wound up still over what happened to Twilight. While all the other heroes have seemed to pretty much bounced back after that harrowing incident and are caught up in youthful optimism and the excitement of a new dungeon, Time hasn't forgotten and he wants to make sure the heroes don't forget the seriousness of their situation and their enemy. Just because the Shadow was defeated once doesn't mean that they can do it again so easily (not that it was easy before).

My writer brain immediately interpreted this as foreshadowing that they aren't going to even make it to the central chamber before the group gets involuntarily broken up (trap doors my beloved mwahaha). Of course that may not end up being the case, they may make it the central chamber without incident.

I figure that ideally the group will split into 3 groups of 3, each group having at least one older Link (Time, Wars, Twi, Sky) and one younger Link (Four, Legend Hyrule, Wild, Wind). How much you wanna bet that Time wants Twi with him in order to keep an eye on him/protect him?

Anyways, that's all I got. Bye!

#linked universe #Linked Universe: Entrance #analysis post #new update spoilers #lu

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soapybutt17 · 6 months

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Lost In Ikea

Summary: John was a patient man, but he had his limits. That includes having to navigate his way around a maze you called IKEA and the impossibility of having to put the bloody bed together—his patience was even shorter after being interupted twice and a broken bed as an aftermath. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Katherine Price) Word Count: 1,066 Chapter Warnings: General Chaos. John gets cockblocked twice. Unedited. Lol. Author's Note: for @glitterypirateduck;s O'Captain! Challenge Scenarios:

4. Lost In IKEA 55. Someone gets walked in on (doesn't have to be sexual) 89. Shopping for a new bed.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

The frown has marred John’s face the moment he had placed the car on park and he was greeted by the annoying blue and yellow signage. It still confused him to no end why you insist on buying a bed in IKEA when he could make one himself.

“Are you excited to go to IKEA?” The gentle baby talk lingered besides him as he turned towards you whose attention was solely on your six month old daughter on the car seat.

It was another special occasion for the three of you aside from buying a new bed for them, you had also decided that it was time to invest on some more furniture and decoration for the baby’s bed.

John grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly got out of the car, following his wife as you handed him the sling carrier to carry your daughter. Without another word, he placed his daughter onto the carried on his chest and was greeted with the lovely grumble of his pride and joy.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane now, Love.” He whispered gently kissing on top of her head before following his wife through the towering blue and yellow entrance.

The sprawling maze of Scandinavian furniture loomed before him like a daunting labyrinth, and he could help but feel a surge of irritation bubbling within him. Why can his wife just allow him to make the bloody bed or more specifically fix the one they had broken last night instead?

“Can’t we just order online like normal people?” John muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the chatter of shoppers around. He honestly hated being surrounded by people and having to act hyper vigilant because of it.

You turned to him in amusement, but a sympathetic glance lingered, you know all too well his disdain for crowded stores and aimless browsing. But you also know him enough to know he hated online shopping just as much.

“Come on, John. We’re just here for the bed and some decorations for Katherine’s bed.” You tried your best to reassure him.

But as you three continued to venture deeper into the seemingly endless aisles, John’s frustration only intensified. Every turned seemed to lead to yet another showroom, each meticulously staged to showcase the latest in minimalist design. He couldn’t help but scoff at the idea of spending hours wandering through fake living rooms and bedrooms.

"This is ridiculous," John grumbled, scanning the maze of shelves for any sign of escape. "How can anyone enjoy this?"

You chuckled rubbing his bearded cheek before kissing him on the cheeks, knowing there was only one way to placate him and his stormy mood.

“How about this,” You began pulling him towards one of the less populated showrooms. “How about once we’re finished with shopping for the bed and decorations, we can bring Katherine to your parents’ house for a few days so we could handle fixing the bed and redesigning Katherine’s room?” You wiggled your brows knowingly.

John was slowly cracking at the proposition.

“Three days. One day for creating that bloody bed and two days of whatever I want.” He proposed.

“How about a week and we fly your parents and Katherine to Disneyland?” You offered.

“Deal.” John shook your hands sealing the deal and your fate for the weak.

Even with the deal in place, John could not hide his annoyance. Meandering through the store, his annoyance grew with each passing moment especially when you three had found yourself walking in circles for a couple of times. The endless stream of shoppers, the blaring announcements over the intercom, and the overwhelming array of choices left him feeling claustrophobic and irritable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and the growing irritable baby on his chest, they had reached the checkout line with their items at hand. John let out a sigh of relief, eager to finally escape the chaos of the store.

“We are never setting foot in an IKEA again.” John muttered to you as soon as you three had exited.

“I hope you keep your word and keep the bed sturdy.” You pointed out knowingly.

John rolled his eyes, not wanting to remember the reason behind the broken bed in the first place.

Last Night

“Get out!”

John was close to a coronary at this point. It was the third time tonight that someone had interrupted him with his wife and he was ready to shoot anyone else that would try barging into his bedroom without bloody knocking.

“I told you to lock the bedroom door.” You giggled finding the whole thing amusing. Even with you barely clothed at this point just as much as him, you were barely affected by the fact that Gaz had seen the two of you almost having sex.

John had wished he had never brought the three to his home, he had wished no one knew about their relationship, and he had wished that his wife was not so hospitable as you were right now even after the incident that had now become a common occurrence when everyone was off base.

If only he could turn back time.

“If I had known that those Muppets didn’t know how to knock I would have.” He muttered, the mood now dampened with annoyance of being interrupted.

“Just lock the door and fuck me already.” You giggled, nudging him with your foot and he somehow sprang back to life at that.

Wasting no time, he got up and locked the door before jumping right back into devouring you. You were a giggling mess as he began to strip you of what remained of your clothes.

Even before John could begin, the sound of Soap’s laughter and the crying that came soon after from their daughter had finally sealed the deal that the moment was ruined permanently for the night.

“Bloody fucking hell.” John couldn’t help himself from cursing as you burst into fits of laughter as you stood up and slid on your night robe and opened the door to tend to your crying daughter and attempt to scold Soap from keeping it down.

Slumping his full body into the bed in frustration, the last thing John would have ever expected to happen was for the bed to give out under him further sealing his fate for the night.

“God fucking damn it.”

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 year

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See you again

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Your girlfriend surprises you with tickets to see your favorite band, Corroded Coffin for your birthday. You and her spent one magical night with the lead singer over a year ago before they made it big. Will he remember you? (He definitely will.)

Warnings: 18+MDNI M/F/F threesome, OC and reader are in an established queer relationship, spit kink, choking, Dom!OC, Switch!Eddie, Sub!reader, nipple play, unprotected sex, G/G, reader is described to be a bit more shy and has a few moments of self doubt, Oral (F & M receiving) and I think that’s it? If I missed any please let me know! WK: 6.2k

A/N: Okay this was based on a request by @melodymunson for a rockstar!eddie threesome, I know you said you wanted them to be besties but I kind of took some liberties and then it just got away from me and I made lore lol. Potentially might write a prequel about their first night together if anyone is interested in that! Also the top right photo is supposed to depict my OC. Reader has no descriptions besides the outfit she is wearing. Feedback is greatly appreciated!🖤 Read the prequel here.

You eagerly waited in the line to the venue to see your favorite band. You have been a fan since they were still pretty underground, only playing in small bars for a few 100 people and haven’t gotten the chance to see them…see him since they got a record deal and made it big. The first time you saw them the lead singer and guitarist had you transfixed. You felt like a creep because you only knew his name since he said it on stage and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him when you had your hand between your thighs at night. You went to several shows after that, never having the nerve to talk to him but always making lingering eye contact that you couldn’t tell if you were imaging or not.

Eventually you met your girlfriend Chloe at one of their shows and you and her immediately bonded over your mutual crush on the frontman. It didn’t take you long to realize you also had massive crushes on each other and the rest was history. You weren’t like Chloe, you never would have talked to her if she hadn’t approached you first. She was bold and confident and you were more shy and reserved despite the way you dressed insinuating otherwise. So when she told you at the last show you guys had gone to that she was going to just walk up to Eddie and ask him if he wanted to fool around with you guys you felt like you were going to pass out.

“Come on baby, we have talked about and fantasized about this so much. You might not want to believe it but I see the way he looks at us, I don’t think he would turn us down and even if he did that’s the worst that could happen.”

But he didn’t turn you down, his voice squeaked when he answered her and it made you feel a little better knowing he was nervous too. The three of you spent what was one of the best nights of your life together in the back of his van right outside the bar. Afterwards he told you over breakfast at a local diner that they had gotten signed very recently and would be moving out to California in the next week. You congratulated him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you parted ways and you haven’t seen him since.

So when Chloe surprised you with the tickets for your birthday, making a whole big thing of it, driving to the city and going shopping for new outfits. You were both equally nervous as you were excited. It’s not like there was even a guarantee he would see you or even recognize you but the possibility had you clenching your thighs thinking back to that night.

You made sure to get there early so when the doors opened you were able to rush to be directly up front against the bar. As people flooded in, you really looked around and realized how big the place truly was.

“This is crazy, I can’t believe how popular they are now. It was only a year ago when we saw them in that tiny bar in town.”

Chloe looked over at you and smiled “I know, it’s like they blew up over night! I’m excited to hear them play some of their new shit live!” She put her hands on your hips and got close to whisper in your ear.

“Plus… I don’t hate the idea of seeing Eddie again…”

You put your arms around her neck and bit your lip, looking into her pretty crystal blue eyes “I know, I don’t either”

You giggled, twisting some strands of her dyed cherry red hair at the back of her neck around your fingers before your face fell. “He probably won’t even see us though, even if he did, who knows if he would even recognize us at this point? I’ve heard his songs on the radio and seen his pictures in magazines. He's probably been with tons of girls since then.”

•

Little did you know Eddie had already noticed you. He was standing off to the side of the stage absentmindedly watching the local band that was opening for them tonight when saw you standing right in front with your girlfriend's arms wrapped around your shoulders. He felt his pants getting tighter just knowing he was in the same room as you. With the venues and crowds getting bigger and bigger he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again. But there you were looking pretty as ever in a tiny little leopard print top and a tight leather skirt with studded belts layered on it and he suddenly felt extremely nervous to go on stage for the first time in a while.

He thought about you as much as you thought about him. He thought about Chloe too, but he thought about you just a tiny bit more. He had seen you at his shows several times, way before he ever saw her. But he was always too nervous to talk to you. You truly intimidated him with your sexy little outfits, the way the black make-up was always perfectly smoked around your eyes making them pop, those glossy lips he wanted so badly to feel on his skin. You always came alone until one day you didn’t, you showed up with this gorgeous girl that was almost as tall as him, with cherry red hair and beautiful blue eyes that sparkled as she looked down at you. When he saw her wrap his arms around you and kiss you he was so disappointed he felt like his heart was going to fall out of his ass.

But then your girlfriend started making eye contact with him when he was on stage, looking him dead in the eyes as you swayed your hips against hers and she placed innocent seeming kisses on your neck when the look in her eyes was anything but. She would wink at him over your shoulder while she grabbed your ass and at that point he knew she was definitely teasing him. Even though he was pretty much positive that was the case, the small chance that it wasn’t was enough to deter him from approaching you in fear of coming off as a creep.

That night when you both walked up to him and pretty much straight up asked him if he wanted to fuck even with all of the crazy new experiences he’s had in the last year that was still the best night of his life. It played on a loop in his mind more often than he’d like to admit so the fact that you were standing there front and center at his show felt like the universe was blessing him and there was no way he was going to pass that up.

•

After the opening band finished there were people all over the stage, switching out instruments and equipment to get ready for CC to come on. The lights lowered and you felt butterflies in your tummy at the prospect of seeing Eddie again. When he came out you felt like you would’ve dropped to the ground if Chloe didn’t have her arms around you. He was always beautiful but now? He was otherworldly. If the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and had added several tattoos to his chest since you saw him last wasn’t enough already he was wearing fucking leather pants that looked like they were painted on his body, a bit of eyeliner smudged around his eyes and his hair was styled to perfection.

As soon as he stood center stage, directly in front of you he made eye contact with you and smiled a big goofy smile at you. You felt like the butterflies in your stomach were going to explode. You looked back at Chloe with a flustered look on your face.

“You saw that.. right?” You gulped.

“Oh yeah, I saw that. I knew he would remember us, how could he forget? Especially you baby, you’re just so pretty.”

She smoothed some of your hair that was out of place and cupped your jaw. You leaned into her hand, she had this way of making you feel all fuzzy and warm with just her words and a simple touch and you felt your nerves calm slightly. It was short lived though, Eddie’s voice came through the speakers and flooded your senses.

“Hey everyone! You ready to fucking rock this bitch?!” As he played the first few chords of the first song everyone cheered, including you. As he played through the first songs of the set you were in absolute awe of him. You felt so proud of him, of all of them, seeing them in this environment. The way he worked the crowd, looking so natural up there, dominating the room with his presence. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, bouncing between the way his fingers were working the guitar to the way his lips looked when he sang, wet with a mixture of spit and sweat. It made you think about how his hands and mouth felt in other places.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you either. He kept making eye contact with you and winking, standing directly in front of you with those fucking leather pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. His cock looked so big you literally wanted to pull his pants down right there and suck him off in front of everyone.

“He looks so fucking hot” Chloe whispered in your ear while leaving a few warm wet kisses along your pulse point causing you to subconsciously lean your head back on her shoulder grinding back against her and letting out a little whimper.

“Yeah…” you sighed “He fucking does” you looked back up at him and he was looking directly at you with a lust filled gaze as he sang. Chloe was still kissing your neck and knowing her she was staring back at him with the same intensity.

She was whispering dirty things in your ear while her hands roamed your body, leaving small wet kisses on your cheek and jaw. Eddie was up there, unable to take his eyes off the two of you, thrusting into his guitar and practically making out with the microphone. All through the show they continued their back and forth teasing, with you caught in the middle of it, just trying to stay standing upright at this point.

After the current song ended he bent down to whisper to one of the security guards, you watched him tilt his head towards you, and he sent you a wink before standing back at the center of the stage.

“Alright guys, this is gonna be our last song of the night!! You guys have been so awesome, thank you for coming out!!”

Halfway through the song the security guard Eddie whispered to approached you. “He wants to see you backstage.”

He opened the gate just enough for you both to slip through it. You heard a few girls making jealous comments and throwing insults your way but you genuinely couldn't care less at this moment.

You followed the guard backstage, with Chloe behind you as they finished up their final song. You stood off to the side as he thanked everyone and wished them a good night when he noticed you. He immediately started walking towards you, time felt like it was going in slow motion and your head was spinning the closer he got.

He walked right up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and beaming at you.

“Hi princess” He pulled you into his arms and enveloped you in everything Eddie. His sweaty bare chest was pressed up against your cheek and he smelled so fucking good. Like sweat, cigarettes, a hint of weed, and a cologne that smells more expensive than the one he wore last time you saw him.

“Hi Eddie” you wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed, slightly muffled by the way your face was shoved into him. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders and locking you close to him, he rests his chin on your head so he can look past you at Chloe.

“Hey pretty boy” you heard her say as you felt her come up behind you and reach past you to run a finger along Eddie’s jaw before cupping it in her hand. “Did you miss us?”

He bit his lip and nodded, but Chloe wasn’t having any of that. She shoved her hand into his hair and pulled hard, causing him to let out a sexy groan that made you have to hold back a whimper of your own.

“Words babe, I wanna hear you say it” The way she was talking to him had you already feeling fuzzy and you knew it wasn’t going to take much for you to be in that fucked out headspace she always puts you in.

“Y-yeah I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you after last time… we didn’t exchange numbers or anything so when I saw you two standing out there I thought I was dreaming again.”

“Again?” She cocked her eyebrow at him “Have you been dreaming of us honey?” She was fully pressed up against your backside now, with Eddie still caging you in from the front.

“Fuck yes I have” He groaned “How could I not?” He tilted his head so he was looking down at you “You’re the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen…”

You looked up at him through your lashes and brought your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling a lot less nervous now that you know he’s been thinking of you.

You got up on your tiptoes so you could whisper directly in his ear.

“We want you Eddie… take us to your dressing room, please?” You flicked your tongue out and licked behind his ear, sucking a little while you rubbed your hands down his chest.

“Fuck. You guys are going to kill me. I’ll do you one better though, take you to my way too fancy for me to comprehend hotel room and fuck you on the big king sized bed… All. Night. Long.” His hand came up to the nape of your neck and squeezed, this time you couldn’t hold it back, you let out a little whimper.

“Oh yeah? All night pretty boy? You think you can keep up with us?” She grabbed his chin, squishing his cheeks together and shaking his head from side to side a little. Seeing the way Eddie submitted to her was driving you insane, thinking back to how dominant he was with YOU it was so sexy how easily she could turn him into putty in her hands.

She brought her lips back to your neck, kissing and licking while she looked over you into Eddie’s eyes in that way that drove him absolutely crazy.

“Fuck. Alright. Let’s fucking go before I lose my mind start fucking you right here.” He let go of you and you immediately missed his embrace, but he grabbed your hand, dragging toward the back exit and to the car he had waiting, pulling Chloe along behind you.

The short drive to his hotel was a blur, you were sandwiched between them in the backseat, two sets of hands and lips roaming your body. They were grabbing at your chest, your thighs, kissing and licking on your neck leaving marks and love bites, you were completely at their mercy. When the car started coming to a stop you all practically jumped out, giggling and smiling at each other as you started running hand in hand towards his room.

•

As soon as the door was shut Eddie was on you, he grabbed your face in his big hands and ran his thumbs over your cheeks, his rings were cool and it felt nice on your heated skin “You are so beautiful.” He smiled down at you and then kissed you way more gently than he had in the car, he kissed you like you meant something to him and it was confusing and a little scary but it made your insides feel like they were on fire.

“Okay I get it, you guys are obsessed with each other and that’s very cute and all but I want you both on your fucking knees. Now.” Chloe was standing a few feet away from you, with her hands on her hips and a fire in her eyes that went straight to your core. You kicked off your boots and slid down to your knees without hesitation. It took Eddie’s brain a second to compute not only that this was actually happening right now but how hot your dynamic was. The way you immediately submitted to your girlfriend made his cock even harder than it already was and he wasn’t even sure how that was possible at this point.

He stood there dumbfounded for a second before she walked over to him and grabbed his jaw in her hand, pulling his face close to hers. “I told you to Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.”

He stared at her with wide brown eyes before kneeling down next to you.

“Good. You gonna be a good boy for me? I’ll only let you touch my girl if you’re good.” She was bent down to look him directly in the eyes, seeming even taller than she already was and he kind of felt like he was going to bust in his pants right now.

“Yes, I’ll be good. Promise.” He was looking up at her with those pretty doe eyes, driving her crazy.

“Good boy.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip and he lapped his tongue over it before taking it into his mouth. “Very good boy.”

You squirmed in place, shoving your hands between your legs and squeezing as you watched them. You were honestly so horny at this point you needed one of them to touch you before you exploded. The way Chloe was talking to him was so fucking hot.

“Mmm and we have my good girl too” she said as she looked over at you. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and Eddie tonight honey?”

“Yes I wanna be good” you bit your lip and nodded eagerly.

“Good. You can start by getting those hands from between your thighs, I didn’t give you permission to do that.” You stuttered out an apology and rested your hands on your lap.

“I’ll let it slide just this once, because my baby is just so eager huh? Want us both to fuck you so bad don’t you?”

“Yes, I want it so bad, been wanting it so bad. I need it.”

“Look how pretty you both look on your knees for me.” She brought a hand to each of your throats and applied just the right amount of pressure. “Take each other's clothes off.”

She didn’t have to tell Eddie twice he practically ripped off the leather jacket he put on in the car and then turned to you and undid the tie at the front of your top.

“Fuck, no bra sweetheart? Are you trying to kill me?”

You bit your lip and nodded “I was hoping that maaaaybe we might see you, I didn’t see any point in wearing it if you were just going to take it off.”

He groaned as he pushed your shirt off your shoulders before leaning in to kiss your neck, making his way down to your chest. But before he can get very far he’s yanked back abruptly by hair.

Chloe towered over him, blue eyes boring down into his.

“I said to undress her, I didn’t give you permission to kiss her, did I?” She gave his hair another tug, causing him to let out a pornographic sounding moan.

“Naughty boy. Open.” He obeyed immediately, sticking out his tongue and looking up at her through his lashes. She let some drool slide off her tongue and onto his and he swallowed without hesitation.

“Now stop being a brat and take her clothes off like I fucking told you to. You can play with her when I say you can.”

“Shit, fuck, yeah okay.” Eddie felt like he died and went to heaven and even more so when his eyes wandered back to you. Your bare chest rising up and down with every breath you take, leaning back on your hands and stretching your legs out in front of you, you bend your knees slightly so he could see up your skirt. There was a little wet patch on your red lace thong and he wanted nothing more than to just bury his face there. You could see the look in his eyes shift then, the entire night he’s looked at you in awe but now he’s looking at you like he wants to destroy you and you want nothing more.

He leans forward, not taking his eyes off yours and starts unbuckling the belts layered on top of your skirt. He’s doing it slowly, like he’s playing with you already despite Chloe’s protests. When the final belt comes off he pulls down the zipper on your skirt before taking it off entirely, leaving you in just your thong.

“God damn baby, look at you.” He smirked at you, running his hands down your calves, the touch sending electric shockwaves up your legs and straight to your pussy. He brought his hands all the way up your legs before looping his fingers in the band of your underwear and pulling them down your ankles.

“Fuck. Look at that pretty pussy, I can see how wet you are from here.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Your turn, lean back.”

He assumes your previous position, legs outstretched, weight supported on the palms of his hands as he leans back. You don’t waste any time leaning forward and undoing his belt before hastily undoing his pants and pulling them down his legs. You could see the outline of his cock in his boxers, leaving nothing to the imagination. Long and thick and so fucking hard, a little wet patch forming on the gray fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight. You ran your hands down his chest to his hips before pulling his boxers off. His dick bouncing out and landing on his stomach.

“Fuck. God.” You groaned. “I want you in my mouth so bad.” You looked over to Chloe with pleading eyes, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed completely naked, legs spread.

“You wanna suck him off baby? How about this, since you’ve been such a good obedient little girl for me tonight you can suck his dick while I eat your pussy. How’s that sound?”

“Yes. Please.” You whimpered, she knew exactly how that sounded to you, fucking amazing.

“Okay baby girl, get on the bed, hands and knees.”

You stood immediately, walking over to the bed and getting into the position she asked. You faced them with your back arched so your ass was in the air and stuck your tongue out. A little bit of drool dripping onto the bed. Like a toy, waiting and ready to be played with. Eddie was the first to approach you, cupping your face in his hand gently before grabbing your chin roughly between his pointer finger and thumb and squishing your lips together.

“Look at you, such a good girl, you just want us to treat you like a little fuck doll, huh?” Your eyes rolled back and you moaned, this is what you fucking wanted.

“Yes, please please.” You weren’t above begging at this point. The tension has been building since you saw him on stage and you can’t take much more of them not touching you in some capacity.

“No need to beg doll, I’m gonna give you exactly what you want.” He let go of your chin and held his palm out in front of your mouth. “Spit.”

You grab his hand in both of yours, looking him straight in the eyes as you lick across his palm before spitting on it. He groans, bringing his hand to his cock and stroking it a few times. You felt the bed dip behind you, familiar hands running along your ass before placing a rough smack there causing you to yelp. You looked over your shoulder to see your girlfriend sucking her fingers into her mouth. Her tits on full display, big and full with the prettiest pink nipples you loved to suck.

She brought the fingers in her mouth to your dripping folds, running them up and down your slit. You sighed in relief at the feeling of finally being touched. She inserted two fingers deep into you while making eye contact with you in that way she did that made you feel like you were going to melt. You felt a large hand grab onto your hair, pulling it to turn your head. Eddie was looking down at you with equal intensity, still lazily stroking his cock.

“Eyes on me baby. Stick your tongue out.”

You stuck your tongue out and he slapped his cock against it a few times, but it wasn’t enough, you were tired of the teasing so you took matters into your own hands and wrapped your lips around his head. You swirl your tongue around it a few times before taking as much as him as you could down your throat.

“Holy fuck! O-oh my god, your mouth is so fucking good.” He grabbed onto your hair and tugged, looking down at you with hungry eyes as you began to bob your head up and down on his cock. Chloe continued to move her fingers in and out of you, bringing her thumb to your clit causing you to moan around Eddie.

She suddenly removed her fingers and you whined in protest but you didn’t have to feel the loss of her touch for long because suddenly her tongue was licking a stripe from your hole to your clit before circling it with her tongue and sucking it into her mouth. You pulled off Eddie’s cock to moan loudly at the feeling.

You looked back at her for a moment, she was on her back, one arm wrapped around your thigh, her other arm is out of sight but you can tell by the way it’s moving that she’s touching herself. Fucking god, they’re going to be the death of you.

You turned back to the naked metal head standing over you and looked up at him through your lashes. “Fuck my mouth Eddie, use me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbled before grabbing back onto your hair, shoving his cock all the way down your throat. He pulled back almost all the way then repeated the action before he started thrusting in and out of your mouth, using your throat just like you asked.

Chloe was still devouring you from behind, circling two fingers around your hole before inserting them, curling them and hitting that perfect spongy spot inside you. Between that and the way Eddie was looking at you while he abused your throat you felt yourself getting close already.

“You gonna cum already baby?” She mumbled against your pussy. “I can feel you tightening around my fingers.”

“You’re already gonna cum? You like us using you like this huh? Getting your pussy eaten while I abuse this little throat of yours.” Eddie started thrusting faster and Chloe sucked harder on your clit and that’s all it took. His words and the feeling of them all over you sent you over the edge. Rubbing back against Chloe’s mouth and moaning loudly around Eddie’s cock you felt white hot pleasure run through your entire body.

He releases his grip on your hair, letting his cock slip out of your mouth while Chloe kisses up your spine before flipping you over onto your back, straddling you and kissing you roughly. She tasted like you, the cinnamon gum she always chews, and you could slightly taste the strawberry chapstick she put on earlier that night. It was intoxicating. She lifted one of your legs and sat between them so she could rub her pussy against yours. She started slowly grinding on you but quickly picked up the pace, humping against you hard and fast. Both of your tits bounced with each thrust and you reached up to grab onto hers, squeezing her nipples between your fingers. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and the slick noises of you rubbing against each other.

“God damn, you guys are so fucking sexy.” You tilt your head to look over at Eddie, he’s standing there naked and tattooed, his dick hard and throbbing while he strokes it.

“Get over here pretty boy, come fuck our girl while I sit on her face” our girl, you liked the sound of that.

She rolled off of you and pulled your head into her naked lap, reaching down to take both your tits in her hands before roughly pinching your nipples.

Eddie came over and got on the bed between your legs, looking down at you like prey. “I’m going to fucking destroy this pussy princess.”

He leaned down and kissed you rough and hard before sitting up and grabbing his cock to position it at your entrance. The stretch of him pushing inside you was delicious, he thrust in and out a few times before pushing himself all the way in, his hips against yours and his balls touching your ass.

“God damn you are so fucking tight.” He started fucking into you hard and fast, unable to pace himself. “You feel s-so fucking good, being such a good girl for us.”

Chloe positions herself so her legs are on either side of your head and her pussy is directly above your mouth and you take the hint right away. Grabbing onto her thighs to pull her to your mouth and licking a stripe up her pussy before shoving your tongue inside her, fucking her with it.

“Mmm fuck baby, your mouth always feels so good.” She moaned as you wrapped your lips around her clit. Leaning forward she resumed playing with your boobs, tweaking and pinching your nipples, landing a slap on them here in there causing you to yelp and moan into her each time. She started riding your face, and you let her decide the pace, just holding onto her thighs while you let her use your tongue.

Eddie brought his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles on it while he continued to pound into you, letting out moans that you wanted to record and listen to over and over again like your favorite song. You felt him lean forward and you couldn’t see but you could hear them making out above you. Chloe’s pace picked up and so did Eddie’s. The circles on your clit got faster and you could hear them moaning against each other's mouths. You were close. So so close.

“Oh god baby, I’m gonna need you to come soon because I’m not going to last much longer between how tight you’re squeezing me and the view I’m looking at I’m going to fucking explode any second.” He grabbed your legs and held onto them by your thighs so he could change his rhythm and hit the exact right spot that had you seeing stars. You writhed underneath them both, moaning and meeting Eddie’s thrusts best you could with your limited movement. Seconds later you felt him spilling inside of you just as Chloe’s movements in your tongue increased in speed. You leaned up slightly to wrap your lips around her clit, sending her over the edge. She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, as she continued to rub against your mouth while she rode out her high.

Eddie was completely fucked out, he pulled out of you and watched his cum drip out of your pussy down your ass and when he looked up he felt like he was about to get hard again already. Chloe was riding your face, her head thrown back, hand in her hair, skin flushed. She looked absolutely mesmerizing.

Once she came down scooted off your face to come lay down beside you. “Fuck. That was so hot.” She was panting as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss on your cheek. “You are such a good girl.”

Eddie came and laid on the opposite side of you and wrapped his arm around your waist nuzzling his face into your neck. “The best girl.” He said.

You sighed in content and giggled at the praise.

“Happy Birthday, sweet girl.” Chloe leaned over and kissed you softly.

Eddie sat up abruptly next to you. “WHAT!? It’s your birthday!? Why didn’t you tell me!? We could’ve done something to celebrate!”

You looked over at the clock, it read 2:37AM “I mean it’s not my birthday anymore, and I’m pretty sure we just celebrated, several times.” You laughed.

“Okay technically we kinda celebrated. But you know that’s not what I meant, I meant actual birthday stuff. Like cake and singing happy birthday and all that. You deserve that.” He pouted.

“Eddie! It’s fine, this is all I wanted. Chloe surprised me with this trip and this is more than I could’ve ever asked for on my birthday.” You smiled at him and ran a reassuring hand down his arm. “Plus you didn’t even know it was my birthday, how could you? Don’t feel bad silly.”

“Okay well still!! I want to do something for you. This is the last stop on tour and we are playing two more shows here in town. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.” He put his hand over yours, smiling hopefully at you.

“Eddie… I- We-“ you struggled to find what to say.

“Eddie, baby, we would love that. But, we spent all of our cash on this trip and we only have money for gas and food on the way home. We weren’t even going to stay tonight since we couldn’t afford a hotel and you so graciously let us stay here. But we really can’t afford to stay here another night. I’m sorry.” Chloe spoke up for you, not in a controlling way, she just knows sometimes you have a hard time telling people no. Especially when you don’t want to.

“No, I mean stay here with me in my hotel. We can do whatever you want tomorrow, and then I’ll take you out to a nice fancy dinner.” Fuck, did he really want that? It honestly sounded amazing, but you didn’t even have extra clothes. There was no way you were going to go to a nice dinner with a newly famous rockstar in the clothes you wore all night.

“Eddie I’d really love that, and it’s so sweet that you want to do that for me but we don’t have extra clothes, and I’d feel bad just imposing on your space and having you spend your money on us.” It hurts you to say no to him, you can see his face fall a bit before it lights back up in a smile.

“Sweetheart, listen… I have so much money now I don’t know what to do with it. I’ll take you guys shopping, you can get clothes for the next few days and something pretty to wear to dinner. Pleeeeease??” He sticks his lip out and puts his hands together like a kid on Halloween begging for one more piece of candy.

“That sounds fucking amazing honestly, I’m in. Let him do this for you baby, he wants to and you deserve it.” Chloe looked over at you both with a Cheshire Cat smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I know it’s hard for you to let people do things for you, but if you can’t do it for you, do it for me? Because I really fucking want the rockstar Eddie treatment for a day.”

She wasn’t wrong, he’s practically begging to spoil you, it wouldn’t hurt to let him, would it?

“Fuck it. Okay. You can take us shopping and to dinner but I’m going to suck your dick so good and fuck your brains out after. As a thank you.”

His dick twitched at the thought. “Fuck princess, you can’t talk like that you’re going fo get me going again.”

“Who said I wasn’t trying to do exactly that?” You bit your lip and moved your hand to palm his now semi hard cock.

“Yeah? You wanna go again?” He looked like he just won the lottery.

“Hell yeah we do pretty boy, I specifically remember you saying something about ‘fucking us all night long’” Chloe was climbing over you, straddling your lap as she reached out to grab Eddie’s throat. “Did you not?”

“Fuck yeah I did.” He grabbed her face and pulled her into a rough kiss.

Yeah, this was definitely the best birthday of your life, the best day of your life in general honestly and tomorrow was probably going to be even better.

Tagging the bbs who seemed like they wanted to read this: @eddiemunson95 @rip-quizilla @the-unforgivenn 🤭🖤

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x OC

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atinylittlepain · 6 months

Text

Part One

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 4.5K

chapter content info | 18+ angst, discussions of pregnancy, people being WASPy, marital squabbles that become something more serious some of the time, but also real, persistent love

a/n | listen, don't look at me. not gonna lie, it feels good to be back in the ring and i'm excited to share this one with y'all. special thanks to @wannab-urs for beta-ing and for encouraging me along with this one - love ya, twin.

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He looks handsome and he’s getting on her nerves. She looks beautiful and he still doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this. She knows he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this, but she thinks that’s bullshit, kid gloves that she doesn’t need from him, or from anyone for that matter.

He could, but he doesn’t tell her that her left eye is twitching a little bit. Her left eye is twitching a little bit, she blinks hard every time she feels muscle starting to spasm, keeps her face turned away from him and toward the passenger side window.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You keep sighing.”

“I’m just tired.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I meant last week then.”

“Are you taking those multivitamins I got you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I checked the bottle this morning and the safety seal is still on it.”

“Cass.”

“What?”

“I don’t think a multivitamin is going to be the thing that makes me feel less tired.”

“I hate it when you say my name like that.”

“Okay, how should I say it?”

“Nevermind.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just drop it, I don’t want to start the day like this.”

“We’re not starting the day like anything, we’re just having a conversation.”

“Joel, please, I’m not doing this with you right now.” And he asks it before he can think much about it, knee-jerk and maybe a little mean, did you take your pills this morning? Right, going for the nuclear option this morning, she lets out a clipped sound that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so sharp and he wishes there were a way to pluck words out of the air and swallow them back down. And she knows that whatever she says to that is going to be a failure. If she gets angry, if she blows up, she’s crazy. If she informs him that she did, in fact, take her pills, then she’s a liar, because she did, in fact, not take her pills, so she’s even crazier, right.

“You know, that’s a fucked thing to ask me.” Ring the bell because she’s won this round. He thinks about offering her an apology, a glance while they’re stopped at a red light that only affords him the slope of her cheek and her hair tucked behind her ear with the way her face is turned away from him. He sighs and it makes her shoulders hike up a little higher.

There’s a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister when they pull up, and of course there is a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister, she thinks, because Tommy and Maria are having a girl, and that’s lovely, and she is going to smile when she gets out of the car because of how lovely that is. Already thinking about what her face will have to do to make that smile happen while he parks at the end of the driveway because they’re a little late, always a little late these days. At least they have a clear and present escape route, he thinks.

“Here, let me.” He does, stays still while she runs her fingers up behind the collar of his shirt to smooth it down, and she thinks that she’s not the only one trying to buy a little more time. Made it out of the car, but still standing in front of the car, he has always liked the feeling of her palms splayed over his chest, hums and thanks her for fixing his collar, leans in for a quick smacking thing of a kiss that she gives back to him all ease, and he thinks that maybe they’ll get to be normal today.

“Remind me again what we got them?”

“Bottle warmer and a set of swaddling blankets.”

“What, they can’t use hot water from the tap like everyone else?” That gets him a clipped laugh from her, and he knows he’s bordering on something tender that could snap and snarl if he says any more, so he takes the laugh and leaves it at that. She laughs, feels stupid for the heat that thickens and closes in behind it and hides the flush from him by collecting the gifts from the trunk. Pastel pink and perfect wrapping paper with thin ribbon curled and bouncing. She briefly considers how it would feel to rip it all to pieces. But no, none of that, because this is Tommy and Maria, and she loves Tommy and Maria, really, she does, so happy for Tommy and Maria. Happy, happy, happy.

Maria is the one who opens the door, all smiles, all round because she made it to the third trimester. He glances at Cass as they enter into the usual greetings and congratulations, leaning hugs and Tommy somewhere in the fray. Cassandra thinks she’s doing a good job of smiling but she can’t really feel her mouth, letting her lungs collapse a little when Tommy pulls her in for a quick squeeze, hey, Cassie, good to see you. And maybe it’s the lack of pills in her system but is he? Is it? Verging a little close to hostage negotiator territory? Talking to her like she’s a skittish horse? Because, apparently, it’s not just Joel, but the whole clan who seems to expect her to have a hard time with this. His and Tommy’s parents smile and pet at her shoulders when they see her, that same so good to see you, as if they didn’t just see her a month ago for the fourth of July barbecue, as if she’s the one who’s–

“I appreciate y’all being here, I know Maria does too.” Everyone in the backyard even though it’s already pushing eighty degrees, linen dresses and blue jeans and fluted glasses filled with orange juice and something a little stiffer. He squints at Tommy, nods, of course, lets his eyes drift out over mingling friends and family, settling on Cass. She’s smiling, mouth moving around easy words in a small cluster of women. Her arm is curled across her stomach, elbow held in hand, drink held aloft. She is doing fine, he thinks, good. And of course she’s doing fine, everything fine, and he’s fine too. Her eyes catch his and her smile stays, and he feels one of his own, there and gone. They are doing fine.

“Is Cass, you know, doing alright?”

“Oh yeah, she’s doing fine.”

She can feel sweat starting to collect along the waistband of her underwear, a cool, nauseous shiver, so terrible running beneath the skin. Someone, she can’t remember the name, a friend of Maria’s, is saying something about tits. Well, she doesn’t use the word tits, no, that word couldn’t come out of her baby pink painted lips. Breasts, and Cassandra curls her lips back into her mouth to stop herself from offering up mammary glands, if you want to be so proper about it, smiling and mmhmming instead about stretch marks and leakage and sore, seaming skin. Not that she’d know anything about it, not really. But all the other women do, something close to sharing war stories, all the space the body can make, and what remains when it’s empty once again. Now that, empty, she knows a thing or two about empty.

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“You wanna know what I hear from her? Is mom there? And then can you put her on?” Tommy laughs, continuing to make quick work out of carving up another watermelon, pink, pink, pink while Joel enjoys a second to breathe in the air conditioned kitchen. Almost eleven, and they’re going to do cake at almost eleven, and he supposes he doesn’t really know what the etiquette is for things like these so sure, he thinks, cake at almost eleven.

“I guess dad’s advice can only work for so long, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s a freshman in college, man, you don’t remember what we were like at that age?”

“I’d rather not, thanks.” And the truth is he remembers very little of that time. Playing at boy king, at living forever, and then the flashbang burst and bloom, obliteration and letting the shrapnel boomerang back together when Sarah came. And then, he thinks, back out on the porch and squinting at the sun threaded through the branches of an elm tree, then, it was a sort of crawl in those first few years.

What he remembers, very little eye contact from anyone, and wanting it more than anything. Never expecting the father to be the one to stay, the very young, very bleary-eyed father who eventually learned to stop looking for other eyes to meet his. Yes, a crawl, kept his head down until one day, two-year-old in tow in the grocery store, looking at pouches of pureed sweet potatoes and peaches, someone ducked her head down alongside his, looked him in the eye, and asked him if it was his wallet she found at the end of the aisle. For the record, it wasn’t his, but he can’t remember who it got returned to any more. That Tina Turner song was playing over the speakers, he remembers that. What’s love got to do with it, what’s love got to do with a HEB on a Wednesday night? Just enough for him to keep going to the HEB on Wednesday nights, hoping to run into the woman who looked him in the eye and told him his daughter was beautiful and had his smile.

“How many do you and Joel have, Cassandra?” Must have been smiling and nodding a little too well to get that question from Sally, Sammy? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. Maria needs better friends, she thinks, or maybe just less of them for her to keep track of.

“Oh, just one. Sarah started college this year actually.” And the usual sequence of snobbery that follows her sharing that detail. Yes, had her very young, yes, must be so proud, and she is proud, she can mean that yes, at least.

“But she’s not yours, is that right?”

“Excuse me?” Excuse you, Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are. Excuse you in your baby blue linen dress and your fuckass bob. Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is, eats her words fast, quick flickers of french tips and well, I just mean, not yours biologically, you know, I think Maria mentioned something about you adopting her when you and Joel got married. Said with that pitch that winches higher and higher with each word like a question going nowhere. She clasps her hands behind her back and digs her nails into the soft of her palms until the urge to throttle Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is passes.

“Yeah, well, she’s not mine in that way. But I’ve been in her life since she was two so, I think that matters a little more than if she slid out of my vagina.” Shit, slipped, should not have said that, gets a glossed gasp from the peanut gallery and she’s just glad Maria is off hostessing with other people right now, not bearing witness to the way she just slaughtered this conversation with the sharp of her words. Excuse her Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are, and excuse her, all the rest of you, she needs to get out of the heat, out of the sun, out of whatever this is.

He knows what looks mean what by now. A pinched brow, a frown that’s just barely a frown. She breezes past the kitchen with one hand pressed high against her stomach as if to make sure the rise and fall is still happening. Says her name once and she waves a hand behind her, already halfway down the hall and not turning around now, sorry, just need the bathroom. Tommy’s eyes do that thing, that softening, slipping thing, looking at him and not asking the question, though it hangs in the air somewhere between them. He excuses himself, walks slowly enough that the bathroom door is already shut and locked by the time he gets to it. The faucet is running, all he hears when he says her name again, feeling like a perfect fool knocking on the door. Not the first time this has happened, and she feels more foolish every time it does. But he’s already asked her if she’s taken her pills today so at the very least, that question is out of the way. Or maybe he’ll ask it again, and maybe she’ll break something, and then report back to her OB-GYN who, for some reason, is the one prescribing her these pills, and tell her OB-GYN that she’s getting crazier and needs more pills that she’ll forget to take. Repeat ad nauseam. No, she thinks, too tired for any of that, two years too tired. She presses her fingers into her temples and closed eyes until the throb in her skull begins to still.

“Do you want to go home?” He doesn’t know how to handle this, not really. Seems to get it wrong more often than not, and sometimes his own frustration turns into meanness that makes it worse, he knows that. He doesn’t know how to deal with her any more, she knows that. The truth is she doesn’t even know how to deal with herself any more, everything always raw and hurting, blistered brain and aching heart and wilting like a frail, flimsy thing. She does alright keeping it tamped down most of the time, keeping it cool and closed off. But, there are times when it flares, like a thin flume of disease nested somewhere deep inside of her. During things like these, around people like these, and the month of April, forget about it.

“I said something a little awful, I think.” Sheepish, the door still only cracked, enough that he can see that she isn’t crying so, little lift of relief in his chest, at least.

“What’s that?” He slips in through the half-opened door and she lets him, shuts the door behind him and tells him, may have snapped, may have used the word vagina. It’s a relief to hear him laugh, a single breath of it like he’s not sure if he should. He touches her hand, her wrist, her elbow, little pulse points, half a tired smile.

“There are worse words to use.”

“Could have said cunt.” She shrugs and you’d think he’d have gotten used to her surprising him like that after sixteen years together, but it’s still a giddy little shock to the system, her brass and brash. Like another vital sign, so long as she has her fang she’s fine, at least he thinks so.

“Yeah, that.” He laughs again, coughs, heat flushing down fast in his face and there’s a quick kick in her chest at the sight, something dormant getting stirred up. She likes that look, coaxing that look out of him. The first time, way out of line and out of place, she thinks. Fresh out of college and buying condoms and pretzel rods at the HEB down the block from her apartment and she shouldn’t have, pretty guy, man, father with pretty brown eyes and a little girl in the seat of his shopping cart with pretty brown eyes like his and she shouldn’t have. Thought she was so smooth, pretending like the wallet she showed him wasn’t hers, like she had found it on the linoleum floor, yeah, so smooth, just looking for a reason to shuffle down the baby food aisle and talk to pretty guy, man, father. That same flush, that same smile, little shock, though he had caught her too, taking a sharp glance down at her basket before she could tuck it behind her legs. And then her turn, little shock when he made some joke about little late for me, for that, shrug and smile and yes, she thinks, she didn’t exactly love him right then and there, but whatever comes right before love, it was that.

“Listen, if it’s getting to be too much for you we can–” Wrong, all wrong, sound in the back of her throat like a scoff that’s how wrong those words were.

“Why does everyone seem to think this is too much for me? It’s a fucking baby shower, not a, I don’t even know what. I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s Tommy’s and Maria’s day and I’m so happy for them that they’re having a–” It catches her off guard, the way the sound gets stuck in her throat, not quite a sob, but verging on it, hiccuping out the rest, a baby. He reaches for her arm again but she jerks it away, hands clasping opposite elbows, all tucked in on herself.

“It’s okay if it’s not fine, you know, nobody is expecting you to–”

“Nobody is expecting me to keep it together, right?”

“Would you let me finish speaking?” No, never winning any points for patience, ever. Not too many for thinking before he speaks either. Her face crumples for a breath, if that, smoothing back out with a scoff, I’m so sorry, Joel, what were you going to say? No, not normal, not today. He wonders briefly how long they’ve been in the bathroom now, and whether they’ve been speaking loudly enough to draw attention to the fact of how long they’ve been in the bathroom now.

“You know what, forget it. If you say you’re fine then I guess you’re fine. Can we just get through fucking cake and leave, please?” She’s very good at this, at turning herself off, something cool and distant slipping over her eyes, her face, shoulders rolled back sharp. Of course, she says, whatever you say, she says, doesn’t give him another glance as she opens the bathroom door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t standing here long, just waiting to use the–”

“Cunt.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Cut– I had a cut and I needed Joel to look at it but I’m fine, right, Joel? Aren’t I fine?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer that, doesn’t give Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is a chance to say any more either, already moving past both of them and back toward the sound of laughter and cake, fucking cake about to happen.

He needs to keep his mouth shut, all he can figure. Keep his mouth shut and maybe, maybe, they’ll get through fucking cake without any more seams splitting. Nothing like this when Sarah came, no balloons, no perfectly frosted and tiered cake with a whole cluster of people around it, and he thinks briefly that maybe he’s the one who isn’t fine being here. Like an ache, or an absence, a place inside of him that has been scooped out and left empty. He doesn’t let himself get sad about it often, mostly because he’s too busy being angry about it with (at?) Cass. But he feels it now, a sinking, swimming feeling that weighs everything down, slow to smile when Maria hands him a plate with a slice of cake on it.

She takes a plate and pushes around globs of pink icing with her fork for a while, standing in another cluster of people she doesn’t really know, one of the women commenting on how good she’s being when she sets her plate down on the kitchen counter, smile and laugh, though the truth is she’s not sure she could stomach pretty pink icing right now. A small mercy when Tommy steps over alongside her and effectively relieves her of having to continue pretending to be interested in a conversation about kitchen remodels.

“Looking a little green, Cassie, you alright?”

“I think the heat got to me, but I’ll survive. Congratulations again, you guys are going to be great, really.” And she hopes he interprets the pitch, the little catch of her words as a good emotion that is entirely for him and his family. Not anything else, not anything that would be entirely ridiculous and well, crazy, on her part.

“I just want to say thank you again for giving us all that furniture, and the clothes, we really–”

“Oh of course, Tom, you did us a favor taking all that stuff. It’s not like we were going to–” Going to what? She doesn’t finish that sentence, and Tommy doesn’t need her to, already nodding, already that look in his eyes that she has come to recognize as thinly-concealed pity. Not like they were ever going to have a use for that furniture, those clothes, not again, not after. A foreclosed room in their house that stayed as silent and shut up as a tomb, and then the happy, happy, happy news from Tommy and Maria and of course, they said, take whatever you want, take it all, actually. The room is empty now. The door stays closed.

He wants to leave and he wants to leave now. The walls creeping in closer and that hollow thing in between his ribs starting to ache and twinge. He catches her eyes from across the room and it takes little else for a knowing to pass between them, both of them already moving, already starting a string of polite goodbyes, friends and family, sorry, yes, really have to go, it’s becoming hard to breathe, really have to go.

Early in the afternoon and the sun so bright it makes him a little dizzy when they step outside. He follows the sound of her heels on the sidewalk back to the car, relief in the closing of the door, in settling into the driver’s seat.

She feels like her brain is deflating in her skull. Enough normal for the day, don’t ask her for any more than that. She props her head in her hand and lets her eyes unfocus, turning the suburban streets they're driving through into pale blurs of minivans and basketball hoops. And there is little fanfare to what happens next, she glances at him once, then looks out the window, hears a metallic clink, and when she looks at him again, there’s a cigarette dangling from his lips. It’s so absurd, so out of nowhere, that she has to laugh.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t know. Tommy’s a bad influence.”

“Tommy quit.”

“Well then I did him a favor finishing off all his packs.”

“Joel.”

“Yes?”

“How did I miss you picking up smoking again?”

“It’s not like I do it around the house, I know you don’t like the smell.”

“Oh, but you’re happy to trap me in the car with it?”

“The windows are down.”

“Secondhand smoke.”

“Would you prefer to get out at the next red light?”

“You know, you’re probably gonna die before me. Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m serious. Statistically speaking, men die first–”

“I wonder why.”

“Cardiac events.”

“That tracks.”

“You’re already two years older than me and now you’re doing shit like this and I’m probably gonna be like, sixty-eight and a widow, and then I’ll die of stress from being a sixty-eight-year-old widow.”

“Are you done?”

“Oh fuck you–”

“Hey.”

“No, what next, huh? Are you gonna ask me if I took my pills again?”

“Well, did you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Jesus Christ, Cass, it’s like you don’t even want to get better, you don’t even try.” Silence, she doesn’t fire back, doesn’t make a sound, her lips parted around a wordless frown. The only noise is the turn signal clicking as he pulls into a gas station, his heart sunk down low in his chest, shrinking back in on itself. Too far, too mean, and not even knowing what he was saying until he said it, until she was looking at him in a devastated crumple.

He parks beside a pump but doesn’t get out, doesn’t move at all, really. Waiting. For what, he isn’t sure. When he looks at her again, that stricken look is gone, something slackening, something tired settled in its place.

“Do you remember when you stopped shaving and you asked me if your beard looked stupid and I told you it didn’t?”

“Uh, yes.”

“I lied. Your beard does look stupid.” And with that, she’s out of her seat, out of the car, and clipping fast toward the convenience store, not sparing him another look. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

The light flickers a little in the convenience store bathroom when she flips it on, locking the door behind her just as the first sob shudders up and out of her throat. She doesn’t look in the mirror, she has no use for that, just grips the edge of the sink and allows herself this, a few minutes to get the worst of it out.

He had finished pumping gas ten minutes ago when she comes back out with a bottle of snapple lemonade tucked under her arm. She has been crying, he can see. He doesn’t know why she always hides it from him. It catches him off guard when she walks around the front of the car to stand in front of his rolled-down window, something bordering on sheepish in the set of her expression, her eyes doing a quick loop from her feet back up to him.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think your beard is stupid.”

“Okay.”

“I like it, think you look handsome with it.”

“Honey, will you get in the car, please?” She does, offers him the bottle of lemonade and they both take a swig, waiting for whatever words are supposed to come next. A car honks at them, still at the pump, and he has enough sense to wave an apology behind his head and pull over into a parking spot instead.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Cass? That was a stupid thing for me to say. I didn’t mean that.” She wants to say no, not a stupid thing to say, not unfair, not really. But that would be an admission she doesn’t want to make, so she nods, accepts his apology, both of them having a hard time looking at the other, suddenly so interested in the brick wall of the convenience store.

“We can’t keep doing this.” She doesn’t realize how much she means that until she’s done saying it. Finally saying it, this truth they have been scrapping and snapping around for months now. He says, no, we can’t, and she braces for impact, anticipating the worst, the nuclear option, and she wouldn’t blame him for it. But that blow doesn’t come. He takes her hand over the center console, as simple as anything, and she is reminded again of how much she loves him.

“Something has to change.”

“I think so.”

“We can figure this out, can’t we?”

“It’s us.” As if that’s an answer, though he still nods, repeats it back to her, it’s us. It’s them. They can’t keep doing this. They have to change. They can figure this out, can’t they?

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