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#jeremiah x angel
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@outskrt // jeremiah x angel
"You're really gonna let 'im treat you like that, love?"
Jeremiah wasn't meaning to be heard. This whole afterlife thing was new to him—though could anyone really predict this was going to be like?—and in the almost-week that he had been tethered to the other girl, he was still trying to figure out the ropes. All he knew was that he would be following Angel for some time and eventually it'd become clear what it was all for. And until all that reasoning became clear, he'd just have to trust ole' buddy Satan's word for it and do as he was told.
What he really wanted to know was, why her? They'd only met that one time and it was so inconsequential to him that he had to wait until someone in her life said her name aloud to remember who she was. Angel was the girl he'd been an asshole to the day before he died; and, as he witnessed her interactions with other people, he wondered if the reason he'd been tethered to her was so that he could teach her to be an asshole back.
The only thing was, he wasn't sure how to communicate with her.
He was sitting in front of her at a table at her favorite coffee shop when he asked that question. He didn't think anyone else could see or even hear him... All he knew was that it sort of made his blood boil to watch the barista be rude about her order toward her just a minute ago.
"If I could, I'd go give 'im a black eye right now and see how he likes it." Jeremiah scoffed to himself, pulling out a cigarette. At least these things could still bring him relief as a ghost, even if neither him or the cigarettes were really there. "S'people like that who get away with so much 'cause they spend their whole life unchecked. And yet, I'm the one who's dead. That's bollocks."
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mutatedangels-a · 1 year
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@thcarchcr // jeremiah x angel
"You are by far the grumpiest person I've ever met," Jeremiah says, scoffing. His eyes flit to the calendar. Angel has just finished up with her finals. Shouldn't she be happy? Feeling like a million bucks, like a giant weight's been lifted off her shoulders?
Sure, he's certain there'll be no weight quite like the one she'll lose when he finally goes away—and goes away for good—but she can't exactly have that solace right now.
He folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at her. They're standing in her iconic kitchen, the home base for many of their conversations, both mundane and out of pocket. He wonders what kind they'll have after he says this: "I know what's up yer ass. Or, rather, what's not innit. You need to get laid."
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fics-n-stuff · 1 year
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Jeremiah is so emotionally mature in s2 he honestly almost doesn't fit in. Belly is so chaotic and often self centred, and Conrad is so petty and immature, that Jeremiah being a normal person makes him look like a saint.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months
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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔
╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))
wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)
an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3
taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)
"Focus on me, angel."
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Quiet words against your skin.
Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.
He had you right where he wanted you.
You had no choice but to focus on him.
Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.
Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.
You couldn't see.
Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.
And it had been this way for hours on end.
His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.
But he wasn't listening to you.
Instead, he sighed.
"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."
His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.
"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"
"Shhh."
The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.
And then you felt his head dip down.
In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—
"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."
But you were feeling too much.
Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—
It was so hard to resist him.
He knew that.
And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.
And you were melting at it.
Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.
And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.
In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...
You knew that he was watching you.
You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.
"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.
"Yes?" he murmured.
A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.
"You want me here again?"
He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.
You groaned.
"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"
"But I am touching you."
You knew that he was smiling.
"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"
He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.
But it never came.
"...I don't know."
You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.
"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."
"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"
He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.
"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."
You could nearly cry.
You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—
"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."
A pause.
"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."
Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.
You couldn't take it anymore.
"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.
Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.
He was watching you.
And he was fascinated.
"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."
Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—
"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."
You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.
Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.
"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.
"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."
A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—
Only to stop.
And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.
By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.
Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.
"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"
A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.
"Something, like... This?"
A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.
"So, so warm."
His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.
All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.
And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.
You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.
And it felt so good.
...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.
His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.
You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.
"Xavier!"
Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"
It was like a trigger.
Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."
The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.
You were so close.
You were so close.
It was slipping away.
"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"
This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.
"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."
A pause, and a whimper on your end.
"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."
Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.
But he wasn't done.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.
It was humiliating, almost.
All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.
"So wet n'messy..."
Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—
He clicked his tongue.
"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"
You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.
"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"
Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.
It was gone again.
You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.
"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.
He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.
"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"
His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.
This way, you couldn't speak properly.
There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.
Another hum. "I think... Not."
And he would keep doing it.
Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.
Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.
Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.
You were sobbing.
"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"
It hurt.
It stung.
And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.
"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.
He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.
The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.
Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.
His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.
"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."
You let out a slow breath.
"Please."
Your voice was shaky.
And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Watch," he said.
His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.
"Watch. And no take-backs."
You didn't have time to react, then.
Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.
He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.
His weight shifted.
You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—
And he started off slow.
Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.
"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."
His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.
"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.
"No."
A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.
"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"
You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.
"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."
Xavier usually wasn't like this.
You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.
The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.
For a moment, his eyes softened.
"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"
Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.
"Like that?"
Another nod.
And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.
"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"
His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.
He was right.
You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.
"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—
But he didn't.
Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.
In fact, he didn't stop at all.
He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.
He kept his thrusts up.
He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.
It was torture.
Yet it was so good.
"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"
You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.
And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.
"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."
Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.
"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"
Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.
You were withering.
His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.
You could barely register anything anymore.
He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.
"Xavier..."
Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.
And he groaned against your neck.
"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"
He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.
Yet you knew that this was far from over.
"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"
The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.
He was just as long gone as you were.
"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."
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⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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roosterforme · 8 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.
He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."
"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.
"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."
Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."
Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 
"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.
"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."
"Okay, but-"
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"
You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 
Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."
You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 
"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."
"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.
"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."
"Bradley, I don't want that one either."
He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"
"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."
He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."
You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."
He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.
"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"
"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 
"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.
"I'm pregnant!" 
"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"
He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.
Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 
He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."
You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."
-----------------------
You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."
Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."
He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"
"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 
"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 
You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."
"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."
He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"
You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"
With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."
And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.
"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"
"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."
"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."
"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.
"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."
Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."
"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"
Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."
You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 
Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."
"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."
Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."
-----------------------------
Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 
But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 
"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."
You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."
"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"
You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."
"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.
"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."
Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."
"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."
"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."
You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 
"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 
He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."
As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?
He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."
"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."
"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."
You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."
------------------------------
"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"
He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."
You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.
As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."
"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."
You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"
"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."
He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."
You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 
"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."
You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 
"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 
He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 
"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"
You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."
Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 
"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 
It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.
You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.
He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"
You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 
"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 
You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."
He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"
"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.
"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."
"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."
He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 
"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."
"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 
You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.
It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."
Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."
You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 
"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 
When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 
He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.
"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."
You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 
He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."
"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."
A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.
"You can't stop touching me, can you?"
"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."
"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 
"What?"
Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 
"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.
If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 
"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.
"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."
--------------------------
A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 28
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
Text
going, going, gone pt. 2 - c.f
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summary: y/n leaves to do what susannah always wanted for her boys.
conrad fisher x conklin!reader
a/n: gif is not mine, but i was so so happy to see how much everyone loved part one!! i’ve never had to tag people, but i will try and do that at the end of the story <3 this is also not following the books, that i haven’t read because i’m the worst reader 😭
y/n stood on the opposite side of susannah’s bed, visiting her in boston after she was waiting to see her girls. her connection to laurels daughters was always something susannah felt from the moment they were born. she always wanted girls of her own, but she was still blessed with her two sons.
belly was sitting on the bed, a bright blue dress as susannah looked into her eyes. laurel had gone out to run errands for her friend, so the girls had stayed with susannah.
it was clear that her condition was declining, and rapidly. her face didn’t have the usual sunshine look, and she appeared weaker than y/n and belly were ever used to. her skinny hands trailed to theirs and wrapped together. her touch went from a warm comfort to as light as a feather. somehow, through the cloudy day, the sun poked through and her angelic smile blessed the girls.
“i’ve been missing you so much,” susannah grinned, placing a hand on belly’s thigh and grabbing y/n’s hand with the other. “i’m so glad you came to see me. i needed to see you girls.”
the look on belly’s face was almost coated with uncomfortableness, her naïve self not used to seeing people in this condition. y/n didn’t want susannah to see her fall apart in her grasp, so she made herself blend with tranquility.
the time had passed where they wanted to attempt to save susannah. now, they knew it was only a matter of time until they lost her. they may not have physically lost susannah, but they lost the spark in her a long time ago.
“the boys love you, you know,” she tells belly, and then turning her head to y/n. “both of you.”
“i know,” y/n replies, seeing belly trying to find the right words.
“promise me something?” she asks, looking at belly who’s head perks up. “look after them for me.”
“you’re going to do that yourself,” belly remarks barely over a whisper, moments away from letting the dam break. y/n’s cried enough tears for susannah, but somehow they don’t seem to stop. watching her whole family experience this grief makes her feel less alone, but seeing her baby sister fall apart is near unbearable.
she watched as belly crumpled on the bed into susannah’s arms, and her once warm grasp felt lighter than ever.
ever since her death, y/n wants to look at belly the same. her actions make it so hard. she promised susannah to take care of her boys, and she failed. she let jeremiah sit around knowing he wasn’t the one she truly wanted. afterwards, she made conrad watch in heartbreak her new self with jeremiah.
that scares y/n, knowing that she’ll never truly be able to pick between them. in the long run, no matter who she “picks”, she’s hurting more people than she thinks.
she figures the best thing she can do is be there for conrad, as belly and jeremiah don’t think it’s necessary.
as she drove further and further away, the music she normally sings to turned into static. conrad would probably still be in cousins, not wanting to face his family back in boston. the traffic had quieted down, for people would be home with their families.
she pulled up the the house that had gotten it’s life back before julia took it all away. conrad and y/n were the main ones trying to save the house from being invaded by another family. even if they couldn’t, the cousins house would always have the fisher’s name on it. when y/n walked up to the front door, she slowly turned the doorknob and stepped in.
her footsteps lightly echoed due to the emptiness of the house, some of the front rooms still looking lifeless. y/n walked around, picturing everything exactly how susannah had it, all the portraits and loving decor she had around. she knew, though, that’s how conrad will set everything up.
the sun was just starting to dip down below the horizon, and when she spotted conrad sitting with his feet dipped in the pool, he looked lower than the sun ever could get.
she quietly stepped out onto the back, not saying a word until he noticed her. his head slowly tilted around, feeling her sweet eyes burning through him. he felt more relieved. she’s the only person he wants to see. she’s the one person who hasn’t ripped his heart out and used it.
“what are you doing back?” he questions, keeping his collected expression.
“i didn’t think you really wanted to be alone. you can’t fool me, conrad,” she smirks softly, moving over to sit next to him on the edge of the pool. she dips her feet into the cool water, not yet graced by the hot summer air.
“i don’t need you to be here for me, i don’t think i’m too good of company right now.”
“i think that’s exactly why you need me,” y/n says as conrad looks back to her. he’s always noticed y/n’s beauty on the outside, but he never got to really appreciate the inside. her mind was just as beautiful as her hair when the wind blows it, or the dimples on her cheeks when she’s happy. “you don’t have to do this alone, you know.”
“yeah,” he sighs, swaying his feet in the pool. “i thought jere would at least help me.”
“i talked to belly,” y/n tells him, seeing him quickly freeze and lean his head back.
“it’s not a big deal, y/n, really,” conrad says.
“it is to me. i never thought of her like this, but i don’t understand how she could do that to you.”
“it’s a me problem, clearly jeremiah’s better than i am.”
“that’s not true. belly’s young and thinks she’s innocent. she doesn’t deserve someone like you. she’ll never take the time to know you, but she’s going to jeremiah because he’s ‘easier’.” y/n replies. “you’re perfectly fine the way you are, and you never have to change for her, or me.”
“my mom always saw me with belly. i think that’s the worst part.”
“but your mom didn’t see what belly’s done to you. susannah would never want you to change in order to be with her.” y/n says, clearly to him. “susannah asked belly to be there, and she failed.”
“what do you mean?”
“when belly and i went to visit, she asked us to take care of you and jeremiah. belly barely looked after you, and i don’t even know if she’s helping jeremiah.”
“i get it, though. i left her at prom, and broke her heart.”
“was it shitty of you? yes, i’m not gonna lie to you. at this point, she’s taking it too far by playing with you and now it’s jeremiah’s turn.”
“maybe my mom was wrong,” he looks away, connecting his eyes back with the minute waves in the water. “i miss her. she was like a breath of fresh air, and i feel like i haven’t gotten that since she died.”
“she’s still here,” y/n tells him, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up a bit.
“i still feel her sometimes. if i’m home and i hear a noise, i’ll think she’s cooking, or painting. i don’t need people to see me fall apart.”
“you never have to hide, conrad. not anymore, and not from me.”
the next time he locks eyes with y/n, he can majorly see the sincerity in her face. there’s still a hint of when they were young in their eyes, memories swimming back into conrad’s head. every time she talked to him, all the time she spent with him. every party she skipped because conrad didn’t feel up to it, and she didn’t want him to be alone. he never felt nervous around y/n the way he did with her sister. they always had a complex relationship, but never once did y/n fail to be next to him. conrad let his inch closer to y/n’s, letting her hand lay on top of his, leaving solace in him. he never noticed how soft her hands were, literally and figuratively. she never once used him and glued his pieces back together. it’s then that he realizes that’s something belly never did.
impulsively, he moves his body more toward y/n, trying to get all the gladdening she can give. she’s more than happy to give it to him, letting conrad hold onto her and have her help him. the world around the boy became lighter, almost forgetting about his former despondency caused by belly. the closer he got to y/n, the more he thought that his mother had mistaken belly for the one.
he brushes a stand of y/n’s hair behind her ear, placing his hand on the side of her neck. she breathes lightly, knowing what conrad wants from her, but not knowing if he needs it.
“conrad,” she whispers, his name coming across incredibly from her lips. “you know i love you.”
“of course,” he says back, his hand trailing down her arm.
“but i won’t be a redemption because you cannot have belly. i’ve been the second choice once and i destroyed myself. i won’t do it again.”
“belly’s not who i want. i don’t think i’ve ever loved belly the way i have for you.” it all felt so sudden, the tension growing thicker between them as conrad only wanted to deepen the connection. y/n was just so horrified of hurting him more. she knows that she could help him and love him how he should, but she needs to know that he’s not just trying to get belly back.
“i think we need time, conrad. please?” she asks, and he nods, slipping his hand back down and grabbing her hand. “but trust me when i say that’s it’s not over with us.”
the meaning behind her words is stronger. in reality, she just wants to dive into conrad and accept anything he has to give, but he needs to strengthen his own heart first. he needs to know what he wants. if y/n needs time, he will wait for her.
tags: @historygeekqueen @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @celesteblack08 @parkerdayaa @shelby-x
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princessbrunette · 6 months
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playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა
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bunny!reader ♡
just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.
🎀 cassie — ditto
🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl
🎀 frank ocean — sweet life
🎀 coco & clair — pretty
🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather
🎀 flo milli — never lose me
🎀 cassie — miss your touch
🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes
🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar
🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)
🎀 angels — my boyfriends back
🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy
🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to
🎀 jhené aiko — maniac
🎀 fergie — clumsy
🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone
🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me
🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town
🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it
🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite
🎀 kali uchis — melting
🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys
🎀 cassie — long way 2 go
🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up
🎀 tom tom club — genius of love
🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress
🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric
🎀 marina — primadonna girl
🎀 madonna — material girl
🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu
🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong
🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me
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kitty!reader ♡
listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.
🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird
🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum
🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology
🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves
🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush
🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby
🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep
🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game
🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’
🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die
🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me
🐈‍⬛ deftones — root
🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks
🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams
🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts
🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced
🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival
🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch
🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara
🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang
🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness
🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair
🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque
🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me
🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star
🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening
🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes
🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid
🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable
🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie
🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns
🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me
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deer!reader ♡
she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.
🍪 shura — 2shy
🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs
🍪 april march — chick habit
🍪 benee — kool
🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne
🍪 the little dippers — forever
🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love
🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?
🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’
🍪 sza — prom
🍪 the penguins — earth angel
🍪 SALES — renee
🍪 cleo sol — sunshine
🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet
🍪 kate bush — cloud busting
🍪 mazzy star — halah
🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love
🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous
🍪 fiona apples — shameika
🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified
🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella
🍪 erykah badu — apple tree
🍪 mort garson — plantasia
🍪 sza — sweet november
🍪 quadron — sea salt
🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac
🍪 sade — lovers rock
🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade
🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly
🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom
🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale
🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar
🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park
🍪 tame impala — nangs
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puppy!reader ♡
never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.
🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)
🐶 HAIM — summer girl
🐶 the la’s — there she goes
🐶 stacey q — two of hearts
🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck
🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back
🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day
🐶 dominic fike — babydoll
🐶 jungle — back on 74
🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you
🐶 duran duran — girls on film
🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23
🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me
🐶 matilda mann — bloom
🐶 HAIM — falling
🐶 311 — amber
🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland
🐶 lorde — ribs
🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows
🐶 stevie wonder — all i do
🐶 the human league — don’t you want me
🐶 the turtles — happy together
🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls
🐶 clairo — bags
🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield
🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way
🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely
🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts
🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on
🐶 tame impala — elephant
🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca
🐶 mgmt — boogie down
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abibliophobiaa · 1 year
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Summary: You’ve never been one for love. Especially after your last round with it. Halloween rolls around and in comes Eddie Munson. He’s only in town for a couple days, you’re looking for no strings, and chances are you’ll never see him again anyway.
Easy, right?
That is, until you end up with an unexpected party favor.
mini series masterlist
next chapter
——
warnings: alcohol; smut; unprotected p in v; unplanned pregnancy and associated symptoms; major miscommunication. eddie munson x afab!reader(7k words)
——
“You’ve been staring around for hours. No one is catching your eye? Not even slightly? You’re not doing brain surgery, you’re just trying to get your toes wet.”
You knew this. But the music had been too loud, the room too heated, your body tucked away against the bar as you sat beside your best friend, sipping on a watery margarita that the ice had long since dissolved into.
All around you people bobbed and swayed to ‘Monster Mash.’ Cliche by all means, and yet it felt fitting when you appraised the crowd once more and noted the mummy dancing with his zombified partner. Further out you caught a werewolf in a particularly compromising position with a vampire, and a group of clowns crowded together hosting what looked to be a meeting.
“What about that Westley guy?”
Right — the one everyone had been talking about all night. The man who had the nerve to dress up as the direct counterpart to your own costume. With a huff, you hiked your leg up, crossing one over the other against the stool. The red dress around you shifted and moved, fingers reaching to adjust the belt around your waist.
“I haven’t seen him.” You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “For all I know, he doesn’t exist.”
Micah glanced about the room once again, her makeshift halo wobbling on her head. Somewhere in the distance her boyfriend, Jeremiah, was invested in a deeply riveting conversation about football with some of his friends from college. All of which had dressed in their old football jerseys, dark lines drawn haphazardly under eyes, helmets covering heads. She lingered on him for a moment, and then glanced further over your shoulder, lips tugging upward into a devilish grin. Oddly fitting for the girl dressed as an angel.
“Actually, he’s right there.”
Gravity sent your heart tumbling into your gut. Silly, when you’d thought about it. Just because he’d worn a costume from one of your comfort movies didn’t mean he’d be anything special. Multiple pirates, doctors, and the occasional Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger had already attempted to rouse a conversation, only for it to fall flat. This could very well end up the same, and this night was lost to the turmoil of the inner workings of your mind, still reeling from the sting rumbling in your chest over the past few months.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
But it wasn't a joke when you swiveled around on your stool and faced him. Not at all. In a dimly lit bar, packed too tight with too many bodies bumping you to and fro even as you presently sat, you spotted him. Found the guy people had been mentioning all night as the other half of your ‘couple’s costume,’ saying you both looked amazing together, despite the fact none of them knew he was quite literally a stranger to you.
He sat at a lonesome table. Leaned on an elbow with a cheshire grin spread across the prettiest set of pink lips. His dark curly hair was tied behind his head, tucked into the mask that covered the upper half of his face. Even partially obscured like that, he was handsome, freezing you in place with those piercing brown eyes that were locked unwaveringly on your silhouette.
So he’d noticed you too. Inwardly, you were beaming. After two months of couch surfing and feeling sorry for yourself after a failed relationship wherein you’d walked on your partner of two years with someone who most definitely wasn’t you, you’d decided tonight was the night you’d get back out there. A night of fun, a night to meet someone new, to let loose a bit.
“What are you waiting for,” your friend Micah asked, shoving you forward with a hasty push. “He’s your Westley. If this isn’t some weird ass fate, I don’t know what is.”
Your Westley’s smile grew wider as you approached. Corners dragged upward to form that broad grin, bracketed by the sweetest set of dimples you’d ever seen on a man. Heart pounding a bit, you leaned up against the table, letting out a noncommittal huff. Puffed out a deep breath that caught his attention and had those chocolate brown eyes solely on you.
“Is this space taken?” you asked, and he dipped his head in greeting. “So you’re the guy everyone has been talking about all night.”
“Ah, yes,” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the very sound. It’s a lovely, hearty sound. The kind of laugh that seemed dangerous, because you might like it too much. “And you’re the girlfriend I didn’t know I had.”
“You too, huh?”
“Yeah,” he echoed, taking a step closer. “Though it’s all very flattering. Prettiest Princess Buttercup here.” He dropped the lowest part into a whisper, “Definitely a compliment because, if I’m being honest, you’re way out of my league.”
Your cheeks burned with the compliment, feet fidgeting beneath you where you stood. He reached over and slid a chair beside his hip, patting the surface so you could hop on up and join him, a hand of his reaching out to steady you when you wobbled a bit. Another round of drinks were ordered and you learned quickly his name was Eddie and he’d been in town only for a couple weeks now. Had a few gigs in the city for the band he played in and would be off in another two days. Blew in and out like the storm that presently raged outside, wind howling, rain splashing against sidewalks, lightning painting the night sky in a shock of white before leaving it dark once more. He’d grown up in a small town, but realized he’d only ever had dreams that were too small for the walls he’d been raised in.
So he’d ended up on a short tour and would head off to California to start laying down tracks for the band’s first ever album. He sounded so hopeful and eager, so rejuvenated and excited about life, and it had you endeared to him. Drifting closer as the night went on and he asked you about your own life. Learned you grew up here in the city but craved something quieter, very much unlike him. You’d studied creative writing and English in college and wanted to write the stories people would one day know and love and shelve in their homes, but in the meantime you worked at a library. It wasn’t the most thrilling job, but it kept you abreast, and he regaled you with the endless fantasy titles he’d known and loved through the years.
It wasn’t long before the hours trickled on by and Micah approached the two of you with a sulking Jeremiah in tow. The latter of the two a little too inebriated based on the slight sway in his form and the hand Micah kept firmly planted around his forearm.
Her blue eyes flickered up at Eddie’s face, then drifted back to yours. “I’m taking this idiot home. He’s in time out —”
“Noooo,” he moaned, forehead pressing into the crook of his girlfriend’s neck.
“Are you coming back with me or…?” Micah’s eyes trailed back upward to Eddie once more, brows arched curiously.
Eddie looked at you and shrugged. “Up to you, Buttercup.”
“I’m gonna stay…actually.”
Micah nodded, giving you both one last glance over before tugging her boyfriend along behind her in the direction of the door. As she passed, she leaned up against the hollow of your ear and said loud enough over the music, “Be careful. Have fun. You’re beautiful and I love you and you deserve to enjoy yourself tonight, okay?”
Once they were gone your attention returned to the man swathed in black standing before you, shoulder bumping his. “It's too loud in here,” you shouted for emphasis, insides nearly rattling from the music booming from the speakers positioned about the room. “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more…”
“Private?” he asked, leaning down toward your ear. Chills skittered along your arms as his lips nearly brushed your skin there, gooseflesh pimpling in its wake. “I have a hotel room two blocks over. How do you feel about running?”
“Let’s go.” You grinned.
“As you wish.” He beamed, holding out a gloved hand for you to take.
Outside, the two of you huddled up beneath the small awning growing smaller by the second with the other patrons who had similar ideas of waiting for their rides and cabs or braving the fall storm head on and taking off into the soaked streets in their full Halloween costumes.
Laughter bubbled up from your lips as a particularly hard jolt against your back sent you tumbling into his form, a quick hand of his reaching out and curling low around your back. He tensed, eyes locked on yours, awaiting your response and you leaned further into him, relishing in the heat of his form.
Moments skittered by under the awning. His eyes roamed your form, dark and beautiful, ringed with those little crinkles that appeared in the corners whenever he smiled. He’d been smiling all night — at you, a thought that has little butterfly wings quivering low in your belly, and lower still at the suddenness of the desire ramping up in your bloodstream.
The glowing lights from the bar filter out onto the street. Flashed orange and red across Eddie’s features, painted him in vibrant color, highlighting the plushness of his lips, the curve of his jaw, the bump of his chin. Hesitant fingers reached up to brush at the curls tied behind his head, curled one of the ringlet strands around and around a fingertip, your forearm spreading over the space between his shoulders, around his neck until he pressed in closer to you. Those chocolate brown eyes flickered southward. Lingered on your lips briefly before traveling back up, asking that question without words. Your only answer was the upward tip of your mouth, leaning into the space, waiting to feel him warm against you.
Electricity danced in the moments shared between you. In the fingertips that pressed into his shoulder and gripped tight as his nose nudged at the space beside yours, your mouth tipping up closer to his. From here, you could smell the mint he’d tossed in his mouth on the way out, could feel the tremble of his breath against your sternum, feel the heat of it fanning over your lips.
But the kiss never came. Behind you, a group of friends pushed and shoved toward the front door, nearly sending you and Eddie into the sidewalk and out of the shelter provided by your awning. It dawned on you then, however begrudgingly, that maybe you should move, give others a space to wait for their vehicles, and start to head in the direction of his hotel room.
He seemed to agree, sliding his palm down your forearm to twine his fingers between yours. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?”
“Bet you’re glad you wore the equivalent of tights for pants today, huh?”
“Suppose it makes it easier for me to whisk you away in the night, now doesn’t it?” He barked out a laugh, and clutched your hand tighter, dragging you out onto the street and into the rain.
——
You were presently in the midst of what was officially the weirdest, most endearing hook up you’d ever had. Moments after rushing out into the busy city streets and getting absolutely drenched from head to toe, Eddie tugged you toward a grocery store, suggesting he had nothing back at the hotel. Had looked a little bashful about it, even when you reassured him it was fine and you’d manage without, though he wouldn’t hear any of it.
As a result, you trailed behind him, dress sopping wet and clinging to every inch of your body, helping gather some things you might need in between what you hoped would be an eventful afternoon. Water, snacks, and the like. He seemed so giddy with it, and you hated the way his dimple in his cheek had your heart and thighs clenching. You preferred only the latter of the two, and couldn’t afford yourself the emotional aspect that came along with the former.
Eventually you had both found yourselves in the frozen food aisle, his shoulder bumping yours, your fingers dancing in the spaces between the two of you, the anticipation of after burning brighter with every minute that passed.
“How do you think they know what…oh, I don’t know…Moose Tracks taste like?” Eddie asked, turning his head over his shoulder.
Fortunately for you, he’d removed his mask, revealing more of his features. Those curls that dangled along his brow line, the smattering of freckles along high cheekbones, the crinkled corners of his eyes whenever he smiled at you.
“What?” you asked, once more reminding yourself of just how differently this night was going than you’d originally anticipated.
“Like what makes a Moose Track a Moose Track?”
“I think it’s just a…mix of things that remind them of…you know what?” His eyes twinkled, and you shifted a little closer. It really sucked that he was cute — obnoxiously so. “I actually don’t know. But, I do think we have more than enough stuff here to feed an army. And I think the rain finally let up.”
“You want to head out?”
“I think we should,” you agreed, tugging him along behind you down the aisle, in search of the nearest check out line.
The walk to the hotel room reminded you both of what you’d intended for that evening. The curious glances you would catch him shooting your way, the way you’d do the same when he focused his attention ahead. It increased with every step closer to the looming building, the desire for closeness, to feel, to touch, to taste.
Burned brighter when he swiped his key card and you started shoving the things he’d brought inside of the mini fridge, before snatching two water bottles and placing them down on the bedside table. He whistled as you walked around the room, fingers snapping, one of his curls tucked against the fullness of his mouth.
“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you reassured him, sensing the nervousness radiating from his form.
Those dark eyes settled on yours as you approached, palm coming up slowly to rest against his sternum, right where you could feel his heartbeat clanging against his ribs.
“It’s been a while,” he settled on, voice softer than it had been all evening, a tremorous quality catching your attention.
“We’ll go slow,” you promised, leaning up to finally, and happily, close the space between the two of you.
It felt like a long, shared exhale. The way he immediately knew which way to turn his head, how you liked for his calloused fingers to rest against your cheekbone, that you wanted to be as close as possible, pressed flush against his form. Your head swam as he turned you around and walked you backward until your backside thumped against the edge of the dresser positioned against the wall opposite the bed. Grunted as he reached a hand up the back of your neck and sought out that pesky zipper you wanted so badly pulled down.
As if he’d read your mind, the man in question gave the zipper a nice, hard tug and the fabric shifted and dropped around your shoulders, baring the similarly colored bra beneath. So maybe you’d gone shopping for your first foray back after your break up? Based on the darkened eyes honing in on the lacy fabric, you’d picked correctly.
“Such a shame,” he groaned against the curve of your collar bone, fingers pushing the dress down and onto the floor, “really liked that dress.”
“My turn,” you mused, fingers reaching forward to tug the tunic free from his obscenely tight pants.
He helped you with ease, arms lifting just enough to help pull it over his head, giggling as his endless mane of curls sprang free. Tattoos jumped to life before your eyes. The multiple on his arms and torso, some looking faded and older, likely done in someone’s house, and others freshly inked, leaving a tapestry of stories he’d likely tell you if you’d only had the time.
“Fuck it.” He reached down and cupped your jaw, bruising kiss after bruising kiss laid upon your mouth, your toes digging into the carpet below as pale fingers trailed down the center of your chest, and then lower still, pausing at the hem of your panties. “Can I touch you?”
You might burst into flames if he didn’t. “Please.”
“Never have to say please with me, Buttercup,” he said, fingers pushing past that lacy barrier until they met your flesh, knowing exactly what he’d find there. “Sweetheart…this all for me?”
“Don’t tease.”
A broken sigh spilled from your lips, fingers clutched tight around his forearm as those expert fingers dragged a slow circle around your clit before sliding back to your center, pushing in. Your head rolled back against the wall, heat blooming anew as he stepped closer into the circle of your thighs, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, enjoying the sounds made only for him, the slickness of your center practically pulling his fingers back in with every perfect thrust curled in that spot right where you needed him the most.
“Fuck, just like that, sweetheart,” he panted, mouth pressed tight to yours, grinning against your skin as you keened high and tight, creeping closer and closer to your edge.
And just when you’d thought you were about to explode into dozens of tiny stars like in the night sky above, Eddie stopped. You nearly cried out his name in your frustration, only to find him dropping down onto his knees in front of the dresser, capable hands tugging you closer to the edge, before he pushed the dainty fabric back to the side and swapped his fingers for his tongue.
One long stripe from center to clit was all you'd needed for the rubber band to snap. For the shaking to start, the chanting of his name like a mantra or a prayer to rouse the neighbors likely next door and alert everyone in the building to what magic Eddie had worked between your thighs.
“Not,” you gasped, leaning your head forward to rest against his heaving chest, “fair.”
“What’s not fair, sweetheart?”
“Too good at that.” Another rasped breath pooled from your lips, quieted by the sound of your lips pressing to his chest. Hazy eyes lifted to his face, a satisfied exhale slowing the rise and fall of your chest. “Get on the bed.”
“What do you —”
“On the bed,” you repeated, grinning wickedly as he backed up just enough so his kneecaps hit the mattress. “I want to look at you.”
And god, what a sight he was. Once you’d finally managed to tug his pants down, revealing the boxers beneath, you were rewarded with the fullness of Eddie Munson in the flesh. The narrow waist, the smattering of hair you kissed along his abdomen, the curve of his chest, the freckles along his chest and shoulders. Traced along the tattoos on his chest, the sides of his ribs, the one on his upper thigh, before dragging upward to slide over the increasingly — and massively impressive — hardened cock peeking out from the waistband of his boxers.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he blew the words out on a shaky exhale as you squeezed a little tighter, gauging what he liked.
Your grin grew as you wiggled the remnants of his clothing off his hip and cupped the weight of him in your palm. Perfect. He was absolutely perfect, and you wanted so badly to show him just how much you thought so, sliding down further onto the edge of the bed, tongue dragging a long line up the underside, along that prominent vein that had him bucking upward off the bed.
“Can I, Eddie?”
He watched through hooded lashes as your eyes zeroed in on his leaking tip, thumb sliding over the pre-cum there, before gliding your palm in a slow downward motion around him. He nodded, breath nearly cutting off completely as you finally, and blessedly, welcomed him into your mouth, immediately knowing nothing would compare to this moment and this girl.
Ruined. You’d ruined him for others, your pretty smile around his cock driving him too swiftly to a precipice he didn’t want to see the end of. Not yet. “Wait, wait, wait. Fuck. Your mouth is perfect, sweetheart. But — mmm — I need you.”
He pulled you upward with a gentle hand on the back of your neck, rolling you over beneath him, tongue marking a path along your chest, the peaks of your nipples, the delicate skin of your abdomen. With each pass of his lips over your flesh, you sank deeper into the mattress, knee bent, foot digging into the space above his hip, drawing him close enough that you could feel his glistening, wet hardness brushing your abdomen.
“Someone’s impatient,” you teased, moaning as his finger circled your wet entrance. “Want you inside me.”
“Patience, Buttercup,” he practically purred, reaching over into the bedside table to find…nothing. “No. Oh shit. We didn’t get condoms. I’m such an idiot, I —”
“Shit,” you whimpered, jolting upright and nearly smashing your skull into his as he double checked the inside of the drawer. “What about your suitcase? Wallet?”
“I told you I don’t exactly do this often.”
Those dark brows knitted together on his forehead, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. You remembered then the fortunate and recent development of starting birth control after Micah suggested she could never live without it, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to clasp your hands together and thank the heavens for the little pills you had back home in your friend’s bathroom.
“I’m on the pill,” you told him, swallowing the nervousness that grew with every beat of your heart. “And I’ve been tested recently. I’m clean.”
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe you should have known better.
“I’ve been tested since my last time too. I’m good,” he said, unmistakable desperation filling his voice.
“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered as he rolled onto his back.
“Me neither,” he agreed as you clambered over his lap and bracketed his hips with a thigh on either side.
Lured with the wonderful bliss that was Eddie Munson’s lips warm and plus against yours, you gripped him in hand and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, completely bare. There was something so raw about the moment. About the shuddered breath you both released, the way his hands cupped your hips as he pushed in deeper than you ever thought possible, his voice a broken mix of ‘that’s a good girl,’ ‘taking me so well,’ ‘look so good full of my cock,’ as you move over him.
You wanted to hate that you end up doing something between fucking and making love. For something so casual, it feels almost too intimate, the way you collided together like two pieces fitted together of a puzzle that had only been missing those parts.
And it wasn’t gentle, his fingers clutched in your flesh, feet planted on the bed as he eventually pounded up into you — but it was also somehow tender. A complicated mess, just like the shattered pieces of your heart as he groaned one last time and urged you to come with him, pulling you closer in his arms. His fingers circled your clit until you cried his name and clenched down around him, whimpering at the warmth of him spilling inside.
As you both drifted back to reality, he maneuvered around the bed and washed himself from between your thighs. Cooed when you winced at the cold contact, dropping a kiss against your forehead and telling you that it had started storming again. He could either call you a cab or you could stay the night, he’d suggested. You hadn’t anticipated spending the night with him, but after he dug around for the ice cream and M&Ms you got from the supermarket, you found you couldn’t say no to him.
Especially when he turned on the television and, funnily enough, The Princess Bride was on. Fate, or something more, seemed to laugh in your face. Gleeful as you sprawled out beneath the covers naked as the day you were born beside the man who you quickly learned enjoyed handfuls of popcorn mixed with his sweet chocolate treats.
It didn’t take long before he’d grown hard again, the lights dimmed and the food forgotten, your soft sighs and pleasured peals filling the room as he pushed in and watched as your eyes rolled back and back arched prettily for him.
And later, after you were both satiated and satisfied, you fell asleep to the sounds of Inigo Montoya’s famous speech, and the gentle inhales and exhales of the man sprawled out beneath you.
——
Daylight streamed in through the olive curtains positioned against the wall across from you. You hadn’t noticed them last night. Hadn’t noted the wooden walls, the pale ceiling above, nor the cream bedspread across your hips. Hadn’t noticed a lot of things, it seemed, other than the man who dozed behind you, tattooed arm slung low around your waist, keeping you in close.
Fallen asleep — you’d both fallen asleep watching The Princess Bride, much to your grunted amusement as you shifted up and into a sitting position. Eddie’s arm thumped onto the bed, leaving a wrinkled mess around his sinewy forearm. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you took in the curve of his jaw. The way he looked more boyish than his nearly thirty years, lips parted in a sleepy breathing pattern, curls strewn all about his face. A smile graced your lips, fingers of yours rolling over the curve of his back, the heft of his shoulder, the breadth of his bicep.
Part of you craved curling back up beside him. Wanted to feel his mouth roving over yours, across your skin, between your thighs once more. Would probably dream about the way his face had scrunched up in pleasure before he came apart beneath you last night for weeks to come. But your eyes noticed the time ticking on the far wall, alerting you that work started in two hours. Some weekend reading activity for the children in your town you’d volunteered to work weekend hours for; hindsight, as they say, was twenty-twenty.
“She’s running away in the night,” he grumbled beside you, mouth rolling over to press into the pillow you had slept soundly on for a shocking eight hours, letting out a loud yawn. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d done so. That curly head of hair lifted, too-long strands falling into his gaze as he pinched one eye shut and glanced toward the giant bedroom window. “Or…morning, I guess?”
“I have work,” you said, reaching over to snatch your underwear from off the floor.
He watched with rapt attention as you whirled around and clasped your bra into place, cheeks burning despite the fact he’d seen every inch of you merely hours ago. The man propped himself up onto one elbow, your eyes catching the bat tattoos on his arm as his fingers reached over to curl around your hip, dragging you back down into bed.
Soon enough it was loud giggles, his fingers dancing along your sides, noisy kisses against your own. But it didn’t take long before you were reduced to breathy sighs. His fingers against the span of your hips, his chest pressing yours into the mattress. Lips over yours, against your cheek, the curve of your throat, the hollow between your breasts, the valley of your abdomen. He stopped with a nip along your hip bone, tongue laving over the sensitive skin there.
“Do you have to go?” he groaned against your stomach, placing a final kiss there before crawling back up your body and cradling the back of your head with one hand, his body weight perched on the other elbow, face hovering over your own. Pretty, he was so damn pretty and you wished you could hate him for it.
“I guess I have a few minutes,” you suggested coyly.
And it was all Eddie needed before he had you beneath him once more singing a tune he knew he’d never forget.
You dressed in silence after. He pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a thin sweater while you glanced at the wrinkled heap of your dress from the night before. It hadn’t dawned on you the complications of getting your feet wet on Halloween — at least, not until now.
“I can’t walk back to Micah’s in that,” you groaned, pointing to the messy ball of fabric on the floor.
“Wait — I have an idea!”
Eddie rummaged around a box in the far corner of the room and tossed a tee shirt your way. Across the front was ‘Corroded Coffin’ in a messy font that reminded you of how your brain often felt after one too many cups of coffee in the morning.
“Your band?” you asked, turning the shirt around to show him.
“Yeah.” He nodded, white teeth flashing with his smile. “You know, you could see us some time.”
You quickly slipped the dress over your head and let the skirt ruffle messily along the floor, then moved to roll up the billowy sleeves to your shoulders.
“I can’t say that I’ll be in California any time soon,” you told him, pulling the tee over your head next and draping it over the belt. Like this, it looked more like an oddly fitted skirt and a top. You already decided that was much better than a Halloween costume, so it would do until you got home and could change.
He nodded rapidly, like he knew that, but hadn’t realized that you’d be coasts apart in only a couple of days.
“Well…” he trailed off, searching around the bedside table for a moment.
Once he procured a pencil and a piece of paper, he scribbled down a string of numbers you immediately knew were the hope for something more from a boy with kind eyes, a beautiful smile, and a heart of gold. Your chest ached. If only you’d met him two years ago, at a better time, in a place where you were more open to whatever this could not be.
“My number — for the place I’ll be staying at for the next couple months,” he explained, tucking it into the exposed circle of your palm, closing your fist within his fingers. “Maybe, I don’t know…we can talk?”
“I can do talking,” you conceded, already hating the fact you knew you wouldn’t be utilizing the number.
It was better this way; he was better off this way.
You both parted with a kiss in the doorway. With his arms looped low around your waist in a way that felt too familiar. A way that suffocated, heart twisting at the soft smile that graced his pretty mouth when he wished you a good shift and you wished him a safe flight.
The walk home was all inward grins that flowed on your face until it hurt. Waves to random strangers passing on the street, curious gazes from onlookers at the billowing sleeves you kept shoving up into your tee shirt as you passed. Memories of the night before flashed in your mind. Of his fingers tugging the zipper on the dress, tossing your underwear alongside his on the floor, mouth on yours, hands learning the contours of your body, the way he fitted perfectly inside you.
Another time, another place, another day maybe.
And that day was not today.
Micah was sprawled across the kitchen island when you entered. You shut the door as quietly as possible behind you, only to find she’d already been awake anyway. A cup of likely long gone cold coffee rested beside her along with a bottle of painkillers, her forehead pressed against the cool tile, nursing what you imagined had to be the headache from hell.
“You’re home late,” she grumbled, pushing her head up into her hands. Blonde hair spilled around her forearms, face covered behind her palms. “I’m assuming you had a good time. Which will at least make one of us. Jere passed out as soon as we got home and snored all night.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, stepping further into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator immediately for some water. “I…we had fun.”
“I’m going to need you to spill, because he was cute even with the mask. Don’t think I didn’t notice,” she mused, suddenly healed of her headache, what with the way she looked at you like she’d received the best news of her life.
“I accomplished exactly what I wanted to. I got my toes wet.” You shrugged, lathering some butter onto a freshly toasted bagel.
“You like him,” she screeched, making her own self wince at the sheer volume of it.
You did. You do. But those feelings would fade. Your resolve had already hardened because he wanted romance and flowers and you needed no strings. He deserved that much — he deserved so much.
“We had sex, that’s all. And he’s leaving for California in a few days. I’m never going to see him again. So it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”
——
It hadn’t felt real. For days, you’d doubted every symptom. Every inkling that might have alluded to your present condition.
First, it had been the realization that your period was late. Not even the one or two days you would have pushed aside as a result of stress, the extra hours you’d taken up at work to try and save a little money here and there for a new apartment, or your severe lack of sleep. Then, the nauseousness started. In waves, most days, and definitely not only in the mornings like you’d been led to believe your whole life. Your chest ached next; a fullness that felt unlike your normal, monthly symptoms. Chalked it up to your oncoming period. The same period by that point was nearly two weeks delayed. There was also the fact that no matter how much you slept, you’d still felt like it wasn’t enough. Found yourself dozing off at work, yawning standing in the line for groceries, losing focus while out with friends.
There was also the fact statistics were on your side. You’d done all the right things and were on birth control at the time. So it couldn’t be…that, right? Statistically improbable, unlikely, unwarranted. At least, that was what you had chosen to reassure yourself with, quieting the shouting in your skull that suggested otherwise.
It wasn’t until you were sprawled out against that obnoxiously crinkly white paper in the doctor’s office a little over a month after Halloween that you’d even allowed the thought to enter your mind. It also happened to be the first moment you wondered if you were about to have the entirety of your life changed by a night with a boy in too tight pants you’d definitely not thought about even once since you’d spent the night with him. And you most definitely didn’t picture his dark pupils expanding in the night as you rolled over him, his palms gripping your hips, your hands on his chest, heads thrown back in shared ecstasy.
No.
Not at all.
Six weeks, they told you, with sympathetic looks and uncertain smiles as you exhaled shakily and stared up at the ceiling to stop the room from spinning out of control around you. Six weeks pregnant and undoubtedly so, based on the rapid thrum of the baby’s heartbeat on the screen before you. Strong, they’d said. Perfectly healthy for someone at this point in your pregnancy. They printed pictures up for you of the tiny gummy bear with arms and you held it in trembling hands as they began to speak. Words strung together to form sentences you’d barely understood. Options for next steps, vitamins to take, habits to stop, foods to eat and foods to avoid, how much caffeine to drink, how much weight you could lift and what activities you should start to limit—your head spun with it and continued the whole quiet walk home back to Micah’s place she shared with her boyfriend, Jeremiah.
She welcomed you with open arms as you entered their apartment with a pamphlet on pregnancy in one hand and your pocketbook in the other, whimpered cries of not knowing what to do soaking through her knitted sweater. She’d accepted it without hesitation, just as she always did and would. Held you close to her chest — and hissed at Jeremiah to leave when he’d eventually poked his head in — as you processed the emotions swirling like an endless kaleidoscope in your mind.
And later, when your tears had dried and she’d plopped a freshly opened box of ice cream in your lap and demanded you eat, she asked, “Please just…tell me it’s absolutely Westley’s and not Paul’s.”
“Six weeks,” you sighed, watching her shoulders relax. There was no mistaking who the baby’s father was, and at least that brought you some comfort, “Definitely Westley’s.”
Though you weren’t sure if that made it any better.
“I just want you to know it’s going to be okay,” Micah reassured you, reaching over to rub at your forearm. But did she really know that? How could she? Because to you, it felt like the earth had fallen out of orbit, spinning dizzily now with no signs of stopping any time soon. “I know we don’t have the most space right now, but the couch turns into a futon. It’s yours until you find something otherwise, you know that.”
Telling Eddie his world was (potentially) about to change happened two weeks later. You needed some time to process, is what you’d told yourself was the reason why you’d delayed. After hours of debating, you decided to keep it, and knew that there was always the chance Eddie didn’t want kids — always the chance he’d want to pretend it never happened and that he didn’t want to be a part of its life. Regardless of what he chose, you’d set your mind on being a mother, and you’d do it alone if you had to. But he at least deserved to know; deserved the option of choosing them, even if all you’d had was a night fueled by lust, because you weren’t interested in anything more than that.
Fear had clamped your mouth shut, preventing you from forming those two words for fourteen days. Just two simple words that would have opened the dam to let in the floodgates for the conversation that needed to happen.
Eddie, I’m pregnant.
Eddie, I’m pregnant.
I’m pregnant.
You’d rehearsed it all afternoon, pacing a certifiable hole in the ground from how rapidly you’d moved. Had even stood in front of your friends and had them listen to it until you felt confident enough to do it for real. Gripped Micah’s hand tight as you swiped the man’s number from your pocketbook and dialed. It rang once, then twice, and you worried he wouldn’t answer or you’d caught him at a bad time when the line exploded with sound. Voices. Dozens of voices spilled through the other line, and music along with it.
You winced. “Uhm, Eddie? Is this the right number?”
A long pause extended, drowned out by guitar strings and drum beats. “Uh — uh, yeah. This is him.”
He sounded gruffer than you remembered — voice tinged with a smokier quality that seemed almost unfamiliar to you now. Not that you’d spoken much that night. Maybe he’d caught something, maybe he was sick. Maybe it was merely the weeks that had grown on since you’d seen him, and he'd become another person in the crowd already — someone you knew if only for a night. Heart pounding, you gripped Micah’s hand tighter and wound the phone wire around a pointed fingertip.
“Hi…I’m sorry I’m only calling now. Busy, you know?” A lie, because you’d never intended to call. It had been one night; that was all it was ever meant to be. “It’s the…girl from the party. The Buttercup to your Westley costume on Halloween.”
He chuckled in reply, and you wondered if maybe he was shy. He’d been looser the night you met — louder. Boisterous and passionate. Carefree and fun. But you wondered briefly if that was the glass of whiskey he’d drunk before you slipped away to his hotel room hearing him now. But you remembered that next morning, too; his splendid affection, the kissing, the exuberance of his persona, the way he’d made you fall apart around him again.
It seemed…strange now. Cut off, cold even.
“I’m…pregnant. I just —” You swallowed the knot of fear forming in the back of your throat and continued, “I just thought you should know…because it’s yours.”
There was another prolonged pause.
Nervousness welled up in your throat the longer it continued. Joined that roiling nausea that had become your friend and foe these weeks. Swallowing thickly, your fingers pressed over the span of your abdomen, over the knitted sweater and skin protecting your tiny secret — still not visible to others yet, but wholly your own all the same. You’d already decided you would love them fiercely enough for the both of you if he didn’t want anything to do with it, just so they’d never feel like they were missing out.
Then, after what felt like decades, he asked, “Who is this again?”
You repeated your name, nervousness rattling your bones, fingers trembling in Micah’s. Micah mouthed out ‘Breathe,’ even though you were doing anything but.
The line went dead, and your heart along with it.
——
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You can call me babe...not just for the weekend | Conrad Fisher x Reader
Advent calendar day seven: Tis the damn season
Summary: You and Conrad explore a road you never did before when come back to your hometown for the holidays
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Bundled in your warm coat and scarf, you walked down the streets of Boston with a cup of hot coffee in your right hand, looking for last minute presents while drinking in the feeling of home. Around you, the shops were adorned with twinkling holiday lights, painting a very different picture than in Los Angeles’s December. Especially with the light layers of snow all over the city. 
Although you loved living in Los Angeles, there was nothing better than a snow-y Christmas. 
You missed it the past two years. 
The faint scent of fresh fir and pine coming from the Christmas tree market at the end of the street brought a nostalgic smile to your lips. When you were little, your dad would let you pick a tree — which was always way too big for the living room.  
You entered the bookshop, browsing around for a possible novel to read during your vacation when your eyes caught a familiar face between the aisles. 
‘’Conrad?’’
Hearing his name, the brunet lifted his gaze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. You. In Boston. 
‘’Hi,’’ he said, completely struck. 
You walked over to him, pausing your shopping, and Conrad put down the book he was holding. 
‘’I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s good to see you.’’ 
He had changed — grown — since you last saw him. His hair was a bit longer at the back and his jawline was sharper, but he still had that navy sweater he wore to every Christmas party at school. It has reindeers and snowflakes on it. 
‘’I just got here last night,’’ he explained, giving you a small smile that fell soon after, as if regretting it. ‘’I didn't know you were coming this Christmas.’’ 
‘’I was beginning to miss the snow,’’ you said, then took a sip of your coffee. ‘’How’s your mom?’’ 
Conrad was relieved for a conversation shifter. ‘’She’s great.’’ He smiled again. ‘’We’re hosting a massive Christmas dinner this year and, you know her, she went all out. She turned our house into a place that looks like it came straight from a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie.’’
A chuckle spilled from your lips. Susannah always loved holidays — 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas. She tended to go a bit overboard with the decorations, but she always prepared the most delicious feasts for her guests. Although she was no Martha Stewart, her dinner table was one for the magazines. 
‘’Did your dad put the big star at the top of the house? I couldn’t see it from my window last night.’’
‘’Eh, no.. He didn’t…’’ You could sense that Conrad was holding something back, something he didn’t know how to tell you.  ‘’Dad moved out last summer. He…’’ There was a short pause before he spilled the truth, having never said it out loud before. ‘’He cheated on my mom.’’ 
Your stomach sank and your heart ached for Susannah. You never would have taken Mr. Fisher for a cheater, but you can never really know someone.
‘’I’m sorry.’’
‘’Why for? You’re not the one who had an affair with his secretary,’’ Conrad said, clearly still pissed about the situation and resenting his dad. Getting a silence from you, Conrad took back his words. ‘’I should not have said that…’’
You shook your head. ‘’It’s okay,’’ you assured him. ‘’Is Jeremiah coming for the holidays? He’s in college now, right?’’ 
‘’Yeah. Him and Belly both go to Finch, so they are driving together tonight. Steven should get here tomorrow.’’
Steven. You hadn’t heard of him in a while. The last time you spoke to him was to congratulate him for getting into Princeton. The big news was the reason why you had changed his name for Princeton boy on your phone. It was a nod to one of your favorite movies — A Cinderella story.
A smile drew on your lips. ‘’Seems like everyone is back in town this year.’’ 
‘’Like the old days,’’ Conrad confirmed, his smile tighter than yours.
The second time you ran into one of the Fisher brothers, you were getting lunch by yourself at your old favorite café and typing a few lines for your next novel. Christmas chaos had started at home and writing was impossible with your mother’s holiday music blasting while she was working on tomorrow’s dinner. 
You heard him before you saw him. 
‘’Oh my god, am I seeing right?’’ 
You raised your head, recognizing the dark blond curls spilling from under his hat that just entered the café. He skipped the counter and went straight for your table, pulling you in for a hug.
‘’I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been so long,’’ Jeremiah said, his smile so big you would think he had won a trip to Cabo. 
You talked for a few minutes, catching up on small things, but he unfortunately couldn’t stay long as he was meeting with Belly to go Christmas shopping. You wished them good luck, the shopping malls likely chaotic forty-eight hours before Christmas. 
‘’Before I go, there’s a huge New Year party at Este’ house next week,’’ Jeremiah informed, fixing his jacket and grabbing his coffee from the table. ‘’Everyone is gonna be there. You should come.’’
It was kind of him to invite you, but you were hesitant. 
‘’I haven’t spoken to anyone since moving across the country, I doubt they’ll want me there…’’ 
Jeremiah tilted his head, giving you a look. ‘’Don’t say that. I’m sure someone will be interested in hearing about all of your celebrity friends. If you tell anyone you’ve met Ariana Grande in a restaurant, they’ll want to be best friends.’’ 
You shook your head. Of course he would mention Ariana Grande. The two of you used to sing her music in the car and have midnight release parties every time a new album came out. 
‘’I don’t have any celebrity friends to gossip about. And if I did, I would be a bad friend for gossiping about them at a party in my hometown.’’ 
A Hallmark holiday rom-com was playing on TV when you received a text from Conrad. His contact picture was a selfie of you and him at the beach in Cousins. You visited him for the 4th of July the summer before you parted ways to different colleges. 
From Conrad: Do you want to drive around and look at Christmas lights together?
A smile drew across your face. It was an old tradition from when you were kids. The two of you would walk around the neighborhood on the first night of Christmas break and look at all the decorated houses. You always looked forward to that special night. Then, when Conrad got his license, you broadened your itinerary to other neighborhoods and added hot chocolates and stolen holiday desserts from your respective houses to the tradition. 
You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, adding a sweater over your shirt and slipping on your boots before heading out. 
‘’Where’s your coat?’’ Conrad asked when you opened the passenger door and got in.
‘’We’re staying in the car, I don’t need it,’’ you replied, closing the door and pulling your seatbelt.
Conrad sighed and turned the heater higher. 
‘’I’m gonna be honest, I was surprised to get a text from you. I got the impression that you weren't as pleased to see me as I was yesterday.’’
‘’No. It wasn’t that,’’ he assured, taking his eyes off the road to look at you briefly. ‘’To me, it was unlikely that you would come to Boston again since your life is in Los Angeles now. I was just shocked to see you in town.’’ 
 A teasing smile curled on your face. ‘’Aw, you were starstruck by me?’’
‘’I didn't say starstruck…’’ Conrad protested, shaking his head as you twisted his words around.  
The conversation was quickly dropped, something massive and green catching your attention on your side of the street. ‘’Oh, look on my left, they dressed up their 50 feet skeleton in a Grinch costume!’’ 
‘’What are you doing here?’’ your mother asked, her arms crossed as swatched you in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea on New Year’s eve, eyeing you with a mixture of disbelief and surprise.
You gave her a confused look, a teaspoon in one hand and a teabag dangling from the other. ‘’I’m on vacation… Mom, did you have too much eggnog or something?’’ 
‘’I mean, what are you doing at home on New Year’s eve? Don’t you have a party to go to? I’m sure your old friends missed you.’’
Letting out a sigh, you resumed preparing your tea, pouring hot water into the cup. ‘’Jeremiah invited me, but I don’t think I’m gonna be going. We can watch Ryan Seacrest’s Rockin New Year together—’’ 
Your mother leaned against the kitchen counter, a faint frown on her face. ‘’You should go. No twenty-year-old should stay at home on New Year’s eve,’’ she insisted, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘’Is Conrad gonna be there?’’ 
You shrugged, stirring the tea. ‘’I don’t know.’’
She pointed at your cup. ‘’Give me that tea and get ready for that party.’’ 
Leave it to you to be overdressed at a small town New Year party. Since moving to Los Angeles, you had to level up to their standards of fashion, but now you were sticking out like a sore thumb in this suburban crowd.
You walked further into the house, trying to find familiar faces, but you didn’t recognize half of them. They must have recognized you by the sour look they gave you. You couldn’t tell if it was because of your dress or because they didn’t like that you were at the party.  You tried to ignore them. There was a reason you left town and it wasn’t only for bigger career opportunities. 
‘’Happy new year!’’ Belly greeted over the loud music, grinning excitedly with a red cup in her hand and a pair of ‘2024’ gold glasses on her face. She pulled you in a hug, giving you a better welcome than your old classmates. She held you at arm’s length, looking you up and down. ‘’Wow, that dress looks so good. It’s like a mirrorball.’’ 
You smiled and thanked her for the compliment. ‘’You don’t think it’s too much?’’ 
She shook her head. ‘’It’s better to be overdressed than underdressed,’’ she assured you, quoting Susannah. ‘’Come. Steven has been talking about you non-stop since Jeremiah told him you were in town and coming to the party.’’ Belly gave the boys a glance on the other side of the room, both talking by the windows, then pulled you through the sea of people. 
‘’There she is,’’ Steven exclaimed when seeing you approach, being the last of the group to see you. 
You pulled him in a short hug. ‘’Hey, Steven.’’ 
Seeing your empty hands, Jeremiah offered to get you a drink. He enumerated the small selection available in Este’s kitchen, but your attention was drawn away when you caught Conrad sitting with a couple of friends on the couches with a beer in hand. Your eyes lingered on him more than necessary. You couldn’t help it, he looked so handsome in a button up and sweater. 
‘’So, which one is going to be?’’ Jeremiah said, still waiting for your choice of drink.
As the night went on, you lost sight of him. You and Belly laughed while the boys did karaoke, duetting musicals and acing every song. Parties in Los Angeles were not as laid back. Everyone would have booed if someone had pulled out the karaoke machine. 
Steven was in the middle of an impressive solo when you caught Conrad heading outside to the balcony. You glanced at your friends, then back at the sliding door, and excused yourself to the bathroom. You came to the party in hopes to see him, you couldn’t not talk to him.
As you stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air enveloped you, causing goosebumps to rise on your barely covered skin. Even with tights, that dress was not approved for the winter chill. Trying to ignore the high chances of catching a cold, you walked up to Conrad, who was leaning against the railing, gazing at the illuminated neighborhood by himself.
‘’I’ve been looking for you,’’ you said, your voice breaking the silence. 
‘’Me?’’
You hummed, joining him in his gazing. ‘’Aren't you cold out here?’’ 
‘’No, not really.’’ He shifted his eyes to you, noticing the absence of a coat over your shoulders. ‘’You sure are cold.’’ 
You chuckled, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to generate warmth. ‘’Maybe a little.’’
Without asking, Conrad pulled you closer, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. ‘’Better?’’ 
You leaned into his side, a smile gracing your lips as the woodsy undertones of his cologne enveloped your senses with every breath. ‘’Better.’’ 
‘’How was your Christmas?’’ he asked.
‘’Great.’’ Your answer came across as cold, but it wasn’t intentional. ‘’Did Susannah make you wear matching Christmas sweaters again?’’
Conrad groaned, confirming that she did. ‘’She got us matching pajama bottoms too, this year. It’s horrendous.’’
‘’I’m sure you looked cute— that it was cute,’’ you quickly corrected. 
‘’I assure you, it was not,’’ Conrad denied, shaking his head at the memories. ‘’Mom put reindeer ears on Jeremiah’s head for the family portrait and I had a Santa hat.’’ 
You could totally imagine Conrad in a Santa hat and Christmas pajamas. 
‘’Conrad?’’ He hummed, waiting for you to continue. ‘’Do you ever think of us? The ‘us’ before I moved to California?’’ 
The two of you were very close since third grade, but once you moved to California, you got radio silence from Conrad. No texts. No phone calls. Nothing. 
‘’What do you mean?’’ 
You distanced yourself from him, preferring to be cold rather than close to someone who was playing fool. ‘’You know what I mean.’’
‘’You’re going back to L.A. in a couple of days. It doesn’t matter…’’ 
‘’It does!’’ you finally said, a mix of emotions coating your voice. ‘’I miss us. I miss us everyday, and after these past days, I don’t think I can go back to not speaking to you. I’m asking you one last time, Conrad, if you miss us too, please say it so we can stop acting like stupid teenagers and face what this is like adults.’’ 
Inside the house, you could hear people loudly counting down to midnight, meaning there wasn’t much time left. 
Talking about feelings was always difficult with Conrad. He preferred to bottle them and be miserable instead of facing them. 
‘’Of course I do,’’ he admitted with a rare vulnerability. ‘’No one matters more to me than you.’’
You didn’t hear the countdown reaching its end when you leaned up and pressed your lips against his, finally exploring the road untraveled by. You thought it would feel strange to cross the friendship line, but it wasn’t. It was easy and comfortable. 
Conrad pulled you back to him with a hand on the small of your back, the sequins of your dress scratching his skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as if you were scared he would break the kiss too soon or just…run.
When the kiss did break, Conrad didn’t run. He was smiling down at you as cheers roared from inside the house, the clock having struck midnight. 
‘’It almost doesn’t feel real,’’ you said, looking into his beautiful eyes. 
Conrad leaned down to kiss you again. ‘’How about now?’’ He had an ever present smile on his lips, the kind of smile that couldn’t be broken by anything. The kind of smile that was from pure happiness. 
Starting to feel too cold, the two of you headed back inside to grab your coat and leave. As you were maneuvering through the people, Jeremiah didn’t fail to notice Conrad’s hand holding yours. He elbowed Belly, who squealed excitedly.
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ist4rgirlo · 1 year
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─ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 - 𝐜.𝐟 : 𝐈𝐕
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Summary: Now that your life has turned upside down, are you still willing to put your siblings' feelings first? Or would you rather fight for your feelings and do what makes you happy regardless of the consequences that might result in the future?
Prev ; Next || Conrad Fisher x fem!reader || My blog
Warnings: S2 SPOILERS! fluff, swearing, yelling (lmk if i missed anything!)
SEQUEL TO BEFORE EVERYTHING HAPPENED
───────────────────────────
Y/n’s Pov
"God why is it so hot!" Taylor complained -- holding her hair up, fanning herself with her hands. "Well, Aunt Julia said that the AC is broken" Belly said walking in the kitchen.
"What? No fucking way!" Steven groaned. Aunt Julia walked inside the kitchen "Alright, today's open house is cancelled. I need you all out of the house before the AC guy gets here." Aunt Julia said — we all looked at each other, smiling.
"Great, let's go to the beach! We could go surf and all of that" Jeremiah suggested, I looked at him and nodded. "You guys should go.” Conrad said patting me. I looked up at him “What? what about you?” I asked him.
“I'm not leaving the house" Conrad said, shaking his head no. "Oh come one Conrad!” Jeremiah pushed, "I mean we can go to the mall, they have good ac" Taylor suggested - still using her hands to fan herself.
Conrad still shook his head no "Cool, have fun. But I didn't ditch finals just to leave this house-" — "Conrad, I am trying to keep my shit together" Aunt Julia said cutting Conrad off, placing the papers down on the table "You already ruined my day and I would at least appreciate it that you guys get out of my hair for a few hours." Aunt Julia continued — she was pissed.
Conrad was about to say something else but I grabbed his shoulder gently, calming him down not wanting him to say anything that'll ruin everyone's mood "You know, we can go to the boardwalk" Belly said, I looked at her and nodded. I looked back up at Conrad nodding at him. Everyone agreed.
I watched Skye sit down infront of Aunt Julia "Hey you should come with us, Skye" I suggested looking at them — smiling. "Oh uhm sounds very state fair plus I should just stay here with my mom.. right?" they said - turning to Aunt Julia for confirmation. Aunt Julia shook her head no.
"It wasn't my favorite but you should go" Aunt Julia smiled gently. Skye nodded "I guess I'm coming with you guys" they said with a smile — standing up, walking towards us.
"Great! let's go?" I asked all of them, they all agreed and started to walk towards the door. I felt an arm around my shoulder, "Thank you, Y/N" Conrad said, I looked up at him and nodded "Of course, Connie" I said putting an arm around his waist before walking towards the door.
TIME SKIP
We were now here at boardwalk, we all decided to buy some ice cream first just to cool off.
"I promise you'll have fun, Skye" I heard Belly say to Skye — trying to convince them somehow. Jeremiah scoffed "Fun? The last time we went here you were crying" he said teasing Belly.
"Hey I remember that! Susannah had to throw your clothes away after" I said, pointing at Belly — chuckling at her. "Hey! you were crying too" Conrad said, poking my arm. I shook my head no “Nuh uh! I wasn’t!” pushing him a little.
"You know, Susannah used to force my mom to go here when they were kids. My mom hated it but Susannah loved it" Skye said. Conrad looked at her before saying “You know what my mom also loves?" he paused "The beach house"
I went beside him and grabbed his shoulder gently "Connie" I whispered. "My mom's not evil, Conrad" Skye paused "And your mom wasn't a saint" Skye continued — raising her brows before going back to eating their ice cream. We all stopped walking, looking at Skye.
I sighed, "Skye, have you ever played shoot your shot?" Belly asked Skye, breaking the tension. "No, I think I'll keep it that way" Skye said, looking down — shaking their head.
"Omg you need to see us beat Conrad's ass" I chuckled — shrugging my shoulders, looking at Conrad who was already furrowing his brows at me. "You can never do that" Conrad said smirking. I squinted my eyes at him, "Oh really?" I teased more, “Yes” he hummed — looking at me before eating his ice cream.
"Oh come on you guys, not another great boardwalk showdown" Steven complained — poking my side. I pushed his hand away, slapping it “Stop!”
“So basically they have this thing where whenever they go here they would try to beat each other in shoot your shot” Taylor said. “Yeah every year, not until they got so competitive that my mom banned them from playing” Steven said chuckling — Conrad chuckled too, agreeing with Steven. “So is everyone in?” I asked — looking around. All of them agreed except for Skye.
“Uhm.. I should probably head out” Skye said, their voice quiet, “No you should stay” Conrad paused clearing his throat “It’s fun” I nodded at Skye. “You’re in our team now” I said, patting Skye — smiling.
“Okay, just so you know, I dont do high fives or trash talking” Skye infromed us — Belly nodded “Deal” Skye nodded back before asking “So what’s the prize?”
“Well the loser has to buy the winner the biggest bag of candy” Jeremiah said “Candy? can’t we have something that is a little more sexier?” Taylor suggested — shrugging her shoulder.
“You know, we can talk about the prizes later” I said raising my shoulders — looking at everyone. Conrad clapped “Alright! Let’s go?” he said before walking towards me putting an arm around my shoulder — I nodded and started to walk towards the arcade.
TIME SKIP
We played a variety of games, such as 'Shoot your shot', 'Go kart', 'Rock Climbing', 'Basketball' and even went to see Cam Cameron, who was with us the entire time. When the competition ended, our team lost. So it was either me or Belly who must ride the Tower of Terror as a punishment.
"Okay, you guys should do rock, paper, and scissors!” Steven suggested — clapping his hands, liking the scene of both of his sisters not liking the thought of riding the Tower of Terror. I looked at Belly — pressing my lips together. Her face filled with fear.
I clapped my hands “You know what! As the older sister, I’ll do it for you” I said winking at Belly before walking towards her — patting her shoulder. I walked towards the gate of the ride, I felt someone grab my shoulder “You know, you don’t need to do it alone right?” It was Conrad, smiling down at me. I looked up at him, confused.
“Come on, Y/N?” he said guiding me. He was going to ride it with me, “Let’s go!” they all yelled — clapping. We went in and got buckled in, I took a deep breathe. I felt Conrad’s hand against mine, I looked at our hands before looking at him. “You’re going to be alright, I’m here” he said — smiling gently before locking his hands with mine.
He was always there for me. When we were kids, he was always there for me, making sure that I did not feel left out. He was always by my side, including me whenever they played games. That's how he was, he never left me alone.
We just held hands the entire time - looking at each other smiling. Afterwards, we went down and high fived with everyone else and decided that it was time to head home.
───────────────────────────
Conrad’s Pov
We we’re now on our way home, I was in Steven’s car. The girls were in Jeremiah’s car. “You know, today was fun” Steven said, smiling. I nodded, agreeing with him “It was fun” I smiled.
Steven shrugged his shoulder, still smiling “I dont know, I haven’t seen you that happy for such a long time”
“Well it did feel good feeling like a little kid again” I paused “And that’s what mom probably wanted, was us to be happy again” I continued. “But today was good” I said nodding — smiling at Steven.
“Okay but I just couldn’t help but notice something between you and Y/N” Steven said — I looked at him confused. “What?” I asked. He went and slapped my shoulder gently “Oh come on! Let’s forget about the Belly thing, she’s my sister too but you know I just noticed that there was a vibe between you and Y/N” He smiled at me, raising his brows teasingly.
My smile couldn't be contained - it was good that it was somehow dark. “What?” Steven chuckled “Just an observation” he said. “Well..” I laughed “I appreciate it” I nodded before looking away from him — still smiling.
TIME SKIP
We were now here infront of the beach house, as we all started to walk towards the door, we heard Jeremiah yell “What the fuck!” so I immediately went and ran inside. I looked and my heart dropped, the house was empty.
There was nothing left, no furniture, no plants, no paintings. All the things that reminded us of mom were gone. We stood there trying to take everything in. Our world has been shattered. I felt someone hug me from behind, it was Y/N, crying, making my heart break even harder.
The worst part of today was returning home to this, everything gone. It broke me, it broke all of us - to see our house, my mom's house, empty. It was like pushing the truth that Mom is really gone.
───────────────────────────
taglist : @maybankslover @urmomisafinewoman @user3729107491 @melllinaa @anthgoldenhrry @arunabrak @amj2277 @whoisalexa @remuslupinwifee @gulphulp @layanderson @astrvalee @goldenmoonbeam @podiumprincess @johannelis2302nely @silcintilla @smw-96 @apollo3475 @drikawinchester @fangirl-kimora @sanjanapm @milyswrld @scysuxx @starkeylover @fallingforel @mysticalstarlightflower @ifilwtmfc @allnrsnz @yeosxxx @elvishoe69 @be4tric3s @users09 @mirrorwalls1989 @sunflowers1610 @rubes26
hope u guys like this one !! i’m still sick but i feel much better than yesterday :))
love lots !!
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mutatedangels-a · 1 year
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@blndsided // jeremiah x angel
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"Are you smelling my shirt?"
The supposed demon-ghost-handsome-devil stood in the doorway to the girl's bedroom, looking down at her. He'd just gotten out of the shower—another thing he didn't need to do but liked to for the sake of normalcy—and was walking in from the hallway, hand holding onto the towel around his waist. A perplexed expression colored his features, water dripping ever so slightly from a cherub-like curl that dangled from his otherwise pushed-back head of hair.
Sure, this was her bedroom and she had every right to do what she wanted. After all, he was the one who invaded her space—even had his suits hung up in her closet and underwear in her top drawer. But it was a little bit strange for her to be doing this, wasn't it?
"Well. Does it smell good, poppet?"
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maweallgotohell · 1 year
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Jerome Valeska - Brother's Assistant pt.1
+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:
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+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:
pairing: Jerome Valeska x fem! reader
warnings: none
summary: Jerome locates Jeremiahs residence and decides to pay his brother a visit - to kill him. But when the door opens, he is met with the prettiest and kindest woman he has ever seen. But how will Jeremiah react, especially when it turns out, that Jerome has caught feelings for her, his assistant and best friend? And how will Jerome himself react in such a situation?
+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:*﹤+*:ꔫ:
He found him.
He searched for him for all these years and now he found him. His brother. And he wanted to kill him.
For all these years he made dozens of plans and figured out the best ways to spread fear and get his name all across Gotham so his brother would notice.
He wanted him to feel unsafe.
He wanted him to be afraid.
A few weeks ago he found out what name Jeremiah now went by and after knowing that it wasn't all too complicated to find him. Well yeah, he lived in a fuckin' bunker in the middle of the woods (fuckin' paranoid bitch), but with a name like his, it wasn't very difficult for Jerome to make out his location. Just threaten the right people and you're ready to go.
And there he stood. In front of his brother's labyrinth bunker. Was he nervous? Yeah. But he was determined to kill Jeremiah.
For the last few weeks, he tried to find a way to break into the bunker without being noticed, but there wasn't another entrance. Just the main one. And so he just... pressed the doorbell?
It was weird for him because it felt like a polite gesture. He felt like a brother, who wanted to visit his twin for dinner, while he was the "evil twin", who came to kill that son of a bitch, he had to call his brother.
* ring*
To his surprise, it wasn't his brother's face, that greeted him at the door, no. A beautiful young woman opened it swingingly, her silky (hair color) hair swaying with her movements. It was quite early in the morning, which was why she was still wearing her nightgown, the dark green silk hugging her curves perfectly and the lace gracefully accentuating her (skin color) skin. Her warm and welcoming smile greeted him like a cozy hug and he couldn't help but stare at her.
" Hello?", she asked, her voice sounding soft and gentle, as if she was an angel, that came down to earth just for him.
Her face changed and turned into a frightened one immediately as she recognized his features. She must've recognized him from the news or from stories his brother told her, he thought, but that wasn't the case. Not at all.
" Omg, Xander! What happened to your face?! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!" She rushed directly towards him.
" Uhm, hello..? No, no Miss, I'm Jerome, Jeremiah's, uh, I mean Xanders' long lost twin brother.", he answered nervously.
Why did he stutter? And why did he lie? Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, but he wasn't honest either. How could the presence of a woman make him this nervous? He should've shot her right then and there. But he couldn't. She was too. .. breathtaking and.. . interesting to kill. He somehow knew she was different. He felt it.
Her expression softened and her smile found its way back onto her face. She hugged him as a greeting, which kinda took him by surprise.
" Omg hello!", she grinned. " I didn't know Xan had a twin. Glad to meet you! I'm YN." You held out your hand for him to shake.
...Xan?
You had a nickname for him? Was he your boyfriend? Jerome came to kill his brother, only to fall for his girlfriend? Wow. That was weird, even for him. And how could someone like Miah even pull a girl like you? Tf?
„ Nice, nice to meet you too YN.", was all he could bring himself to say.
" Xan will be so happy to hear that you're here and that you found him."
She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front door with her.
" Come in. Follow me.", she said as she closed the door behind them.
The sudden touch of hers took him by surprise as he stumbled after her into the building.
It was silent for a bit, only the sound of their footsteps against the concrete was to be heard.
Then Jerome found the courage to speak up.
" Sooo YN.. is "Xander" like.. you know... your boyfriend?" He found it so awkward to ask you that, whyever that was, but he just had to. He had to know that to contemplate, whether he had to kidnap or kill you if his brother really was your boyfriend.
She stopped in her tracks to turn around and look at him, only to burst out in laughter.
" Oh god, no.", you giggled. " I'm his assistant and we're like best friends. No romantic feelings between us, really. But I live here. We both needed someone to live with and we've worked together before since we met at St.Ignatius and became best friends there and later, roommates. And here we are."
He was relieved. You weren't with his brother. But were you single? He knew he was there for a different reason and definitely not to go all heart-eyed over his brother's best friend and assistant, but the question occupied his mind completely.
You stopped in front of a door and put your key card in front of the card reader.
" We're here.", you said. "This is the living room. Make yourself comfortable, Jerome. Do you want anything to drink?"
He nodded.
" Soo we have coffee, a few types of tea, water, hot chocolate or orange juice. What would you like?", you asked him with a genuine smile.
" Oh, uhm, coffee sounds amazing. Thank you."
You nodded.
"I'll be right back."
And with that, you turned around and left into the kitchen, which was right next to the living room.
" Xan should arrive here soon too btw. I think in half an hour or so. I'd be happy to have you stay here and accompany me while we wait for him. Only if that's fine for you, tho.", you smiled.
Jerome had always been able to accurately identify and define his feelings. He was also able to consider and assess them rationally. And right now, he felt something he never thought he could feel. Admiration and joyful excitement.
You could've told him to leave or come back when Jeremiah was home or given him an appointment to meet up with his brother. But you didn't. No, furthermore, you invited him to stay with you and said you would like him to accompany you. You weren't even a little bit scared of him, not even because of his "awful" features, which he found sometimes. No, you didn't do any of that. Instead, you were genuinely nice to him and treated him like everybody else, or rather special.
You made him feel wanted just by these small things you did and your naturally nice behavior, which was quite rare for him.
He thought he had, no, he was sure that he had developed a small crush on you. Even though it was unusual for him to trust someone that easily or feel drawn to someone, especially that fast, he wasn't afraid of it at all.
It felt like being near you lifted all the weight he carried off his shoulders without effort. And he wasn't scared to experience these new feelings, because he felt like they wouldn't do him bad at all. It was strange but exciting at the same time and he couldn't wait to learn more about you.
You two chatted a bit until you noticed that you hadn't informed Xan about your guest.
" Sorry, I hate to interrupt you, but I just noticed, that I haven't told Xan about you being here. Lemme just send him a message real quick."
He panicked immediately. What if Miah warned her about him and made her have a different view of him? I mean, sooner or later, Miah would come home and she would find out, who Jerome 'really' is, yeah. But he didn't want their nice little talk and their shared time to end so soon.
"Uhm, YN?", he spoke up, his voice rather quiet. The young woman looked from her phone, back up at him, a questioning expression on her face.
"Could you maybe not tell him I'm here?" His low voice now sounded rather hesitant. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit in astonishment.
"I...I wanted to surprise him. After all this time we haven't seen each other, you know?" He was surprised by himself. He said those words with such emotion, that even he himself would've believed that he missed his brother that much.
Her astonished expression settled again and gave way to a lovely smile.
"Oh yeah, sure! That's a very sweet idea. Xan will be so happy to see you", the young woman cheered.
Jerome exhaled in relief but then lowered his head as well as his voice.
"I doubt that. See, I wasn't always the best brother for him, you know. It may be that he doesn't want to see me at all, let alone talk to me or even have me here. Don't be disappointed then, YN. It's okay, really. I don't want to bother you two. Really, I don't."
He said that. And he sounded like he really missed his brother or felt sorry for the things he did.
Did he? No, very surely he did not. He came here o kill Miah, not to reunite with him and be like 'best buddies'.
But he didn't feel as if what he told the girl before was a lie. Because it wasn't.
The sad undertone in his voice was not a result of missing his brother so much, no. It was because he knew that when Miah returned, he would no longer be able to spend time with the beautiful young lady sitting across from him at that very moment, looking at him sympathetically.
She had changed everything for him in that short time. He had already heard that when you are in love, you no longer have control over what you feel and think. But he had never experienced it. Until this very moment.
No.
Until that moment when she opened the door for him.
" Jerome, please. How could someone, especially Xander, ever be that resentful."
He sighed.
He contemplated telling her the truth. That his brother built this whole bunker they're living in, just to protect them from him.
But he didn't.
Because he was... scared. This was the first time since he killed his mother that he was truly afraid of something.
He feared losing her. And it was more terrifying than anything else.
---------------
While Jerome and YN chatted and got to know each other better, Jeremiah just then received a text from her.
> Hey Xan! You home soon? We have a surprise guest. C ya.<
At first, he thought of it as a normal text she would send him. Everything was fine.
But then it hit him like a crash.
Nobody knew where they lived. Nobody.
He panicked immediately and quickly got in his car, so he could be home as fast as possible. What if YN was in danger but didn't know yet? He could never forgive himself if something happened to her.
----------------------------
word count: 1820
The first part of a new short series (probably gonna be 2 or 3 parts again). Hope y'all like it.
C ya
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bonesandchalamet · 1 year
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a glimpse of summer - j.fisher
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part two
masterlist
pairing: Jeremiah fisher x fem!reader
warnings: some anxious thoughts + fluff + minor grammatical errors
a/n: ahhh season 2’s official trailer dropped and I’m sooo excited!
the cool air was finally lifting over cousins beach. the warmer days were approaching, the sun was shining, and the nights lasted longer. summer was coming.
these months before school was over always lasted the longest. the anticipation for cannonballs in the pool, parties on the beach, staying out until dawn, and you. your arrival was his favorite moment of the whole summer, and your departure is his least favorite.
things were different from before. you looked at each other much differently than you used to, and you caught on to his long stares and quick glances. what would this summer hold? was he still into you? the questions are exciting, but they don’t change how much time holds in between each other, before his arms could finally wrap around you.
the sound of the car parking, the doors slamming, it jerks him awake from his slumber. the clock reads 9am, and he knows by the smell of the ocean, the whistling of the wind from the beach, you’re here. the torturous months of waiting and debating on picking up his phone were finally over. he could see you again.
his feet quickly descend down the stairs, brushing past his mother, the gravel crunches beneath him as he moves to the passenger side lifting you into his arms.
“what a welcome.” you chuckle feeling your feet finally hit the ground. you pull away, those caramel colored curls still bounce in front of his eyes, his pearly white smile still spreads to his angelic eyes. nothing has changed about how the way he makes you feel, and the distance certainly hasn’t had any affect on him either.
“don’t say you didn’t want that.” he challenges, and he has a point. he can see you’ve been waiting for this too, you’ve been counting those nights and hours until you were in cousins beach once again. it’s just that this time you were counting those days and nights to see him, not just for the smell of the ocean, the sand between your toes. rather, his lips against yours, holding your hand in secrecy, the late night laughter you shared. it was all the things you looked forward to most. the scenery just so happened to be background noise now.
“we have to unpack.” your mother interrupts, and while she doesn’t want to, she’d rather share a glass of wine with her best friend than gag over young love.
you blush in slight embarrassment, she had to listen the whole car ride was your antsy finger tapping and anxious radio channel surfing. she knows Jeremiah fisher was all you had been waiting for since you left.
“I’ll help you unpack.” he grabs your bags in the back, the same bright yellow Vera Bradley pattern you’ve had since you were kid, enters his vision. he remembers when his mother gifted you that for your birthday, the smile on your face was irreplaceable. he couldn’t wait to give you your birthday gift this summer.
“she always overpacks, you think you can carry that?” your mother struggles to pull the bag out of the trunk, but he’s much stronger, taking the bag over his shoulder and grabbing anything extra that he could.
“how many clothes you bring this year?” he drops the bag at the end of your bed, instantly collapsing on the mattress he’s sure he’ll spend many nights in. he’d watched his mom set your room up last weekend, her excitement for your arrival was always uncontrollable. the weekend before your arrival signified that summer was here.
“just enough for every month.” you join him on the bed, faces turned towards each other, your smiles couldn’t be wiped. he takes his hand, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck, pulling you closer for his lips to just brush yours.
“here’s to the next three months.”
read part two here
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your-nanas-house · 1 year
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gurllll ~
you know I go FERAL for Jerome × Coquette doll fem!reader
can u PLEASE 👺 do a SPICY 😫 on that !?
I will let you marry me if u do 😻
ALSO, I CLAIM STRAWBERRY ANON 👺
~ 🍓
Girlll?? I can, darling 🤣 my my what a offer and YESSS MY FIRST EMOJI-ANON!! -Nana 🍓
His not so innocent dolly
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◇ Pairing: Jerome Valeska X coquette fem!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, innocent kink, choking, breeding, dirty talk, daddy kink
◇ Summary: Your boyfriend Jerome has a huge weak spot for your innocent sexy style.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This could be the second Kinktober 2023 fic.
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Jerome's gloved hand was holding you by the throat, pressing the pearls of your necklace against your delicate skin, leaving probably a red mark.
His other hand was buried under your white dress that hugged your chest perfectly and left all the accessibility for your man to play with your sex as much as he wanted, without restrictions.
Jerome was cupping your pussy, three clothed fingers inside of you and his hot palm rubbing deliciously against your clit.
He was pumping and moving his fingers messily but stil managing to make you moan his name like a prayer as your eyes closed and your head fell back, your arms around his muscular exposed shoulders.
As you reached the peak of your first orgasm, Jerome wasted no time in ridding himself of his pants and sliding his entire length into you, admiring how your face contorted in pain and pleasure.
"Look at ya, dolly—" he purred while cooing at you, his wet fingers caressing softly your flushed cheek
"Ya taking daddy soooo good" he added as he thrusts a couple of times up, making you bounce and whimper loudly while he laughed.
The pace he took wasn't delicate at all, it was fast, angry and needy but you didn't mind, it described your Jerome perfectly and you loved it— even though you knew you wouldn't be able to walk without limping as soon as he was done with you.
Your walls still hadn't gotten used to or adjusted to his huge cock, so they gripped it like they didn't want to let go of it, eliciting delicious grunts from the ginger
"Yesss, doll. Just like that— keep taking daddy" Jerome grunted reaching slowly his peak
"Ya so tight and warm, 'm gonna fill ya and make ya so full with my babies!" He grunted another time, opening his eyes to take in your apparence.
You were a complete mess, your face red, your hair messy, your nipples erect and your dress still intact for some weird reason; you looked like an angel and at the same time also like a little devil— Jerome was always so excited when he could see this contrast in you.
Which is why after a few more thrusts he shot his load deep inside you, filling you as best he could before collapsing on the bed with a satisfied but sleepy smile.
"My dolly" Jerome whispered with his raspy voice as he cuddled you while catching his breath.
He really loved your innocent, hot style.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter
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roosterforme · 11 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 17 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When you manage to keep your spirits high through a rough patch, Bradley is as supportive of your needs as ever. He's working hard to take care of you in every way, and when he comes home with some unexpected paperwork, it's your turn to be supportive of him.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of smut, pregnancy discussion
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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"It's funny to me that you think you're being coy right now," Bradley told Jake in the locker room. He was avoiding answering questions about his dates with Cat. Bradley knew for a fact that they went on at least two, because that's what you had told him. And he assumed that Jake or Cat had given you that information directly. 
"Some things are sacred, Bradshaw," he said as he applied his deodorant while Bradley dried his hair with his towel and started to get dressed. 
But you had also informed Bradley that the two of them had agreed to take it a little slow now, especially since Cat and Jeremiah were living with her Uncle Bernie. So as Bradley pulled on his underwear, he knew just what to say to bait Jake. "You fuck her yet?" he asked casually, barely able to keep a straight face. 
Jake rounded on him immediately, green eyes furious. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he hissed. "First of all, it's none of your business, but no. Second, you don't have to be so fucking crude about it, man. And third, I never asked you that when you were following Angel around the Hard Deck and all over base like a lost puppy."
Bradley erupted in laughter as he reached into his locker for his undershirt. "Chill, Hangman. I just wanted to see how serious you are. And furthermore, this is the first time you haven't been crude in your life. And further furthermore, you absolutely did ask me if I nailed my wife way back then, because you were mad she turned you down."
Jake stared off into space with his brow creased. "Huh. Well I am serious about Cat. And Jeremiah. But Hondo still gets a little riled up whenever he sees me. Been avoiding him on the tarmac like my life depends on it. And if I ever asked you for any sort of details about Angel, I deeply regret doing so now. Please, keep that shit to yourself."
"Happily," Bradley replied, thinking about your ass in your khaki pants and smiling. When he headed out to the parking garage, Jake walked with him. And when he got to his Bronco, he realized Jake had parked near him. And Cat was waiting for Jake, leaning against the passenger side door, looking at her phone. 
When she glanced up, she smiled and said, "Jake," with longing in her voice. And then she realized Bradley was there, too and straightened her posture like she was standing at attention. "Hi, Bradley."
Oh, they were both making it way too easy to fuck with them. Bradley grinned as he abandoned his Bronco for Jake's car instead. "How's it going? How's my little buddy, Jeremiah?"
She smiled a little cautiously. "He's great. Obsessed with dogs now from playing at your house."
"Yeah, well he's welcome any time," Bradley said, leaning against Jake's car. "Tramp loves licking crumbs off him. Actually Jake was just telling me all about your dates."
"Was he?" she asked quietly, and Bradley thought she looked pleased. Jake was glowering at him from the other side of the car, and Bradley caught sight of a car seat in the back.
"Oh yeah," Bradley said with a nod. "Jake only looks like an ass, but he's actually okay." Cat snorted, and Jake glowered harder. "Are you guys going to go pick Jeremiah up now?"
"Yeah," Jake said loudly. "Better get a move on."
But Cat just looked up at Bradley and said, "I'm trying to get him in the daycare program on base here, but I'm on a wait list. And the facility he's in now is across town, and it's really not that great. But it's affordable," she said with a bit of a shrug. 
Bradley nodded, giving up his original plan to mess with the two of them. He was pretty sure Jake would pay for a better daycare for her son if they were dating seriously. You'd told him a bit about Cat's ex husband and how she was in financial ruin. 
"Well, you have free babysitters," he told her softly. "Really good ones, too."
She laughed softly and leaned in a little closer. "Thanks. Yeah, top notch babysitters. Especially Tramp."
Bradley laughed, too, and then Jake cleared his throat loudly. "If the two of you are finished over there..."
"Later," Bradley told Cat with a grin. And when he walked around toward the Bronco, he winked at Jake and said, "Nice car seat, man."
Jake flipped him off rather discreetly, but he looked happy. When Bradley pulled his Bronco out of his parking spot, he noticed that Jake had walked around to the passenger side of his car. He and Cat were kissing, and Jake was once again holding his middle finger up behind his back for Bradley. 
When he got home, your car was already there. "Sweetheart," he called out as he walked inside. "I am on the cutting edge of the Jake gossip today." You were on the couch wrapped up in his undershirt and a blanket even though it was May, and you were eating a pack of cookies. "You okay?" he asked softly, but he already knew.
You nodded and met his eyes. "I got my period today." Your voice was bland and emotionless, but at least you weren't crying. You just looked exhausted and defeated. 
Bradley made a beeline to the couch and bent to kiss your forehead. "I love you," he promised as you looked up at him, the faintest smile on your lips. "I'll get your heating pad and some Advil? You want a glass of wine?"
"Yeah," you whispered. He didn't even take the time to remove his boots, and Tramp followed him from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen in search of supplies. 
"I'll walk you in a bit. Relax," Bradley coaxed, tossing a treat that the dog caught in midair. "Mommy needs a cuddle first." And it was like the animal listened to him, because a minute later, you were snuggled up on Bradley's lap along with Tramp and the heating pad.
"How was your day?" you asked softly with your eyes closed. Bradley wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't mention right now. He wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but he didn't want to upset you over your period. He wasn't upset about it at all. 
"My day was fine. Do you... want to talk about anything?"
You sighed. "If you're referring to my period? No, not really. I'm okay, I promise. Just a little disappointed, but I think that's mainly because it came a day late, and I was getting just the tiniest bit hopeful, you know?"
Truthfully, Bradley hadn't been keeping up with your cycle, but now that he did the math, you were most likely ovulating right when he got home from deployment. "That makes sense," he whispered, kissing your hair. But he had been too happy since he returned home to let this ruin his day. "But you still got me."
You snuggled in a little closer and kissed his neck. "What's your hot Jake gossip?"
"Well...." It was his time to shine. He always found out everything late or after the fact, and you always liked to pick on him for it. "He and Cat went to pick Jeremiah up from daycare. Together."
You yawned and mumbled, "Yeah, they've been doing that for the past week or so."
"Oh," he said, slightly annoyed that this wasn't news to you. "Well, he also told me he hasn't even slept with her yet," he added.
"I know. I think he's secretly afraid of Hondo kicking his ass."
"Oh. Well, Jake has a car seat for Jeremiah now. But I'm assuming you already know that."
"Of course I do. But this was a really solid effort on your part, Roo. I'm so proud of you."
He just grunted and helped you readjust your heating pad. "I'm supposed to play golf in the morning, unless you'd rather I stay here and make you breakfast?"
"No, thank you. I feel bad enough already. But after you and Jake play golf, we're going out to dinner with him."
"We are? When did this happen? I just saw him."
You grinned up at him and said, "I was just texting Cat. Jake found a kid friendly restaurant that he thought would be great for Jeremiah. I said you'd probably really like it too. There is apparently a playground inside."
Bradley was quiet for a moment as you ran your fingers up along his neck. "Okay... that does sound really fun. Are there swings? I could push Jeremiah on the swings."
"I think there might be."
"I'm in."
----------------------------------
You managed to get up and make Bradley breakfast even though you felt awful. But he spent Friday night cleaning the house after he got you in bed for the night with the heating pad, so you figured some scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel was the least you could do. 
"Jesus, Baby Girl," he moaned, as if you had made him a gourmet breakfast. "So fucking good." 
"Thanks for cleaning and doing the laundry," you said before you yawned. But Bradley collected you in his arms and held you. 
"Thanks for being the best person in the world," he replied, scooping you up and carrying you back to the bedroom while you giggled. "Now get back in bed and get some rest. We've got dinner and the Hard Deck later." 
Then he spun his cap backwards and climbed gently on top of you with a grin. "What are you doing?" you asked, but he cut off your words with his lips. 
"Loving my wife for a minute," he muttered, kissing you hard and parting your lips with his. You tasted his tongue as you moaned, and your fingers found their way to the short hair at the back of his neck. His mustache was really doing it for you, but as soon as you ran your tongue along it, Bradley was pulling away from you. 
"Roo," you whined as he rolled off of you and adjusted his pants. 
"I'll be back after lunchtime," he whispered, and just the sight of his hand on his cock through the fabric of his white golf pants had you pouting. "I love you."
You begrudgingly said, "I love you, too. Even though you're leaving me high and dry." Then you rolled over as he chuckled and left. And you thought about his hands gripping his golf club in those soft, sexy gloves until you were able to fall asleep again.
When you woke up hours later, you were starving and decided to eat a sandwich while you lounged on the back patio. You tossed pieces of crust to Tramp and then you wandered back inside, running your finger along the piano keys as you went. The house was too quiet, and it gave you that melancholy feeling that you got when Bradley was deployed. 
For the briefest moment, you imagined a baby in your arms. Someone to keep you company while he was away. A little one to grow up knowing what it felt like to miss their dad and then be reunited with him over and over again. Someone else for Bradley to dote on. You swallowed down the miserable feeling before it could take over. A baby was not more important than your marriage. A baby did not need to happen at this moment. A child would be welcomed at any time, not just right now. 
You drew a bath, and you were barely in there for more than five minutes when Tramp jumped up from the bath mat and ran for the front door. 
"Sweetheart?"
"In the bathroom," you called, and a second later Bradley was in the room with you. "How were the guys?"
"The usual," he grunted as he knelt on the mat and dipped his fingers in the water. "How was your morning?" he asked, keeping a totally innocent expression on his face as he stroked your breast just under the water's surface.
"Missed you. Got myself a little sad, because it felt like a day when you were deployed." 
Bradley tossed his cap on the floor and said, "I'm right here. I'm yours for the rest of the day. The rest of the weekend. Until we have to go to work on Monday."
"I know," you said, your voice sounding so small as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Will you go see Dr. Genevieve with me next week?"
He answered immediately as his hand found yours. "Of course. I haven't been to therapy in years. It'll be good."
You gaped at him. "You've seen a therapist before?"
"Yeah," he replied with his brow scrunched. "College was a very rough time for me without my mom. And Mav pulled my papers. And I didn't feel like I really belonged anywhere. I never told you that?"
You were just in awe of this man and his notebooks and his open honesty right now and the fact that you were always learning more about him. "No. But I'm really proud of you."
He smiled softly and blushed. "We can go see Dr. Genevieve together. We can do everything together. But you're not allowed to make fun of me if I have more fun at the restaurant tonight than the one year old."
You shook your head and said, "It would come as a surprise to literally nobody."
----------------------
"I don't know why he's fussing so much. He's usually a good eater," Cat said, cutting up some food into tiny pieces while Jeremiah remained on the verge of tears in the high chair. Bradley noticed that Jake was looking a little stressed out, presumably because Jeremiah wasn't enjoying the restaurant as much as he had hoped. Jake had spent all morning at the golf course talking about how excited he was.
"Let me see here," Bradley murmured, picking up the rainbow colored fork and tickling Jeremiah with his fingers while he held out a bite of food. In an instant he was laughing, and then he had a mouthful of food. "You love it here, right kiddo? We played on the swings. We drew on the walls. Your mom let you eat dessert first, and Jake won you a porcupine in the claw machine. Now eat up."
"You're incredible," Cat whispered. "No wonder he likes going to your house so much."
"Nah," Bradley said as Jeremiah took hold of the fork for himself. "It's all her and the way she can read a board book like it was written by a Pulitzer Prize winner." He leaned in and kissed you as you beamed at him. Bradley had spent the better part of an hour after your bath rubbing your back while reading some of his notebook entries to you. It always really seemed to make an impact where sometimes his verbal skills escaped him. But when he wrote his feelings out on a piece of paper, it made all the difference in the world.
"Are you coming to the Hard Deck after this?" you asked, turning to look at Jeremiah as he ate. "Well, not you, little man."
"Nope," Jake said with a cocky grin on his face and his arm draped across the back of Cat's chair. "We're going to watch the newest Scooby Doo movie back at my place and enjoy some of the chocolate chip cookies that I definitely made myself and did not buy at the store."
Cat laughed, and Bradley watched as she leaned in to whisper something to Jake as she brushed his hair back from the scar on his forehead. "They look happy," you muttered, taking Bradley's hand in yours underneath the table. 
"Yeah," he agreed, carefully wiping Jeremiah's face as Cat kissed Jake like they were completely alone. "I'll roast him later for this. He always tells me we're disgusting."
"We are a little bit disgusting, Roo."
"Never said we weren't."
When you and he left the three of them a little while later and headed to the Hard Deck, Bradley was in an absolutely disgusting, soppy mood. You were singing along so badly to his favorite playlist while his hand rested on your thigh, and he was just so fucking proud of you for not letting your period take over your mood. Especially when all he wanted was to make you happy, and he knew it would have crushed him if you were being hard on yourself while he doted on you.
When he pulled into the parking lot and put the Bronco in park, he said, "I don't understand how you can sing so badly when you make the prettiest sounds I've ever heard in bed."
"Hey!" you complained with a laugh as you crawled across the seat and onto his lap. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"I only have the nicest things to say about you and your singing voice," he promised with an obnoxious smile as you pushed his head back against the headrest and started to gently nibble on his neck. Soon you were sucking a little harder as your hand trailed up and down his bicep. "Oh shit. That feels great. Let's go home."
You moaned softly and licked a trail up to his ear before whispering, "Nope. You tease me, I'm going to tease you right back." Then you rubbed yourself against his cock, and Bradley tried to get his arm around you, but you were already jumping down from his lap to the parking lot. 
"Hey!" he called out with a laugh as you ran ahead of him while he tried to lock the Bronco doors. When he jogged inside, you were already at the bar chatting with Penny. He made eye contact with you, and you smirked. 
Bradley strolled up behind you and pressed himself against your butt, kissing the back of your neck. "Whenever you decide you want to behave, I'll be at the pool table," he whispered. 
You just laughed and said, "You know that's not going to happen."
"Well, come say hi to Nat anyway," he added, laughing softly against your neck. Penny was looking at the two of you together with the softest expression, and Bradley figured that was how he usually looked at you, too.  "You know, I can remember the early days before the two of you were together," Penny said over the buzz of conversation. "All the longing glances and sneaking off together." Bradley set his hand on your hip and said, "Hey, we thought we were being pretty discreet." "Nice try," Penny said with a laugh as she slid two beer bottles across the bar.  "Were we not discreet?" Bradley whispered as you and he walked toward Nat. You beamed up at him. "I guess not." He watched you walk into his best friend's open arms for a hug. And now he was thinking about every way he could be less than discreet with you tonight. You kept touching him, just some fleeting brushes of your hand to his abs or arm while you chatted with the others, but you were relentless.  When the beers were empty, you took his bottle and said, "I'll take these back up to the bar, and then I'm running to the ladies' room." Bradley just grunted as you squeezed his bicep. As soon as you disappeared down the hallway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and sent you a quick text. Meet me outside at our special spot? He waited and waited but got no response. However, when you reemerged from the hallway, you caught his eye and then continued toward the exit. Bradley was in the middle of conversation with Javy about golfing when he suddenly said, "Hey, man, excuse me for a minute."
Bradley pushed his way through the crowd, and once he was back outside in the cool, dark night, he turned and ran toward the steps at the far end of the deck. As soon as his shoes hit the sand, you were reaching out for him. 
"Been a while since we did this," you told him, your voice filled with laughter as he backed you up against the deck post. 
"Too long," he agreed, letting his lips meet yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It was amazing how kissing you and just touching you made him feel so good inside. The feel of your kisses was a comfort that he knew by heart, and every curve of your body fit his hands perfectly. His fingers were inside your shirt, his thumbs gliding along your ribs and up to your bra.
You moaned into his mouth, pressing up on your toes and pulling him closer. When he broke the kiss to breathe, you whispered, "I have my period though."
"I know. Just wanted to make out with my fucking hot ass wife. Penny made me nostalgic."
His rough hands were on your lower back, and your head was tipped against the post. Bradley worked his lips along your neck, collar bones and cleavage as you said, "This feels just as good as the first time. Maybe better."
"Definitely better," he murmured. "You're in love with me now."
---------------------------
You had no shame. Your outfit was a wrinkled mess, and your lips were puffy when you returned to the pool table some thirty minutes later. Bradley's hair looked like he'd been outside during a natural disaster, and Penny smirked at him when he got two more beers. 
But it didn't matter, because you were so happy. So you let the guys pick on Bradley while you laughed into your beer bottle. And when you got home, you let him lure you into the shower to have sex at one in the morning where he made you cum so hard, your echoing voice scared Tramp. And maybe the sex was better when you weren't trying so hard to get pregnant. And maybe listening to him read his notebook to you every night was doing more than you originally thought.
When you got to work on Monday morning, Bickel was waiting for your help with his most time sensitive projects. "Your ideas are always so refreshing, Lieutenant Commander." 
And when you sat in the lab all afternoon, Cat came over at one point and simply said, "You were right about Jake."
And then Bradley met you for thirty minutes where he got to meet Dr. Genevieve. You told her that you were having a good day even though you got your period, and the three of you just chatted a little bit. 
But you should have known that by the end of the week, you'd be feeling a little different. You were at home on Friday, already lounging on the couch and looking at vacation destinations for your first anniversary in November when Bradley walked in holding two envelopes.
"We need to talk." 
You popped up on the couch and eyed him carefully. "About what?"
"Two things." He struggled out of his boots at the front door as he said, "Admiral Dean's court-martial has a date scheduled. And there's also an upcoming special detachment."
The court appearance for Dean and Slayer was something you figured would be happening soon. But a special detachment? You weren't sure if you were ready to hear about it. "Just tell me."
Bradley dropped down on the couch next to you and gave you a quick kiss. "June 9th," he said, handing you the first envelope. You scanned along, reading the dates and times, and sure enough, Bradley would have to appear in full dress uniform in court that day. 
"Okay," you murmured, "now tell me about the detachment."
He kissed you again and then again, and you realized he seemed a lot more antsy about this bit of information. "Here." He placed the second envelope in your hand, but the paperwork had almost no information on it. And you were surprised to see that it had a classification code above what you were currently privy to.
"This tells me nothing, Roo."
"I realize that," he replied, running his hands through his hair. "It's something top secret. I wouldn't get any of the details unless I'm selected." He turned to look at you with his elbows propped on his knees and his forehead cupped in one hand. "But, Baby Girl... I really want to do this. I think I kind of need to."
And you understood exactly what he meant without him elaborating further. He still thought he needed to prove himself after being named the spare by Admiral Dean, and this was probably the kind of mission that would get his head on straight again and bring back his confidence. But this was also the kind of mission that would leave you at home, alone and worried. Because if he wasn't one hundred percent in the right head space, it could spell disaster. 'Top secret' meant highly dangerous. But it also meant only the most skilled pilots and weapons systems officers would be chosen to participate.
You swallowed down your fear and nudged his bicep until he leaned back and welcomed you onto his lap. "If you want to do it, then I hope you get chosen." You hated that your voice shook and tears filled your eyes, because you wanted to be encouraging for him. 
"Come here," he whispered gently, and you sobbed quietly as he held you in his arms. "It'll be okay. I might not even get selected. But if I do, it'll still be okay."
"I know," you said, sucking in a deep breath. You hated that his confidence had been shaken in this way, but he was among the best, and you were already sure he'd be going. You could feel it in your bones. 
-------------------------
I'm hoping Dean and Slayer get what they deserve. And also up next, Roo and BG visit a new bar they've never been to before with an agenda they've never indulged in before. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 18
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thegreatirene · 3 months
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Babydoll 2 (Jack Mercer x Latina!reader)
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Part 1
Two days after seeing Jack at Jeremiah’s house you texted Jack that you were outside. You gave him a day for him and his brothers to settle with each other. It’s your day now and you wanted some Jack time. He sent back a kissy face and you pocketed your phone as you waited next to your car.
A few minutes later and Jack comes running out to you. You pulled him into a hug and breathed him in and held him tight as you closed your eyes. It’s been so long since you last seen Jack. You’ve seen his stories on instagram and some clips he put on TikTok. Seeing how he was doing made you feel better but him being there in your arms was way better.
Pulling back Jack grabbed your face and gave you a sweet kiss. He then peppered more kisses around your face as you giggled at him.
“Jack” you sweetly said as you smiled up at him. He grabbed your hands and dragged you towards the house.
“Let me make you something to eat and then we can chill in my room for a minute”
“Jack I’m not hun-“
“You say that all the time until you smell the food” he looked back at you as he made his way up the steps. You rolled your eyes with a smile and followed through the door into the warm home.
You hung your coat up on the rack by the door and took your shoes off as you followed Jack into the kitchen. Sitting on the counter next to the fridge you watched as Jack made himself busy. You thought about the times when you both were in school. Jack always said he would make you food whenever you wanted and you didn’t ever have to cook when he was around. Your sweet punk rock Jack in his pink apron was all you ever wanted.
You watched him with love in your eyes as he cracked eggs into the pan and scrambled them. He looked up at you and smiled back at you.
“What?”
“Nothing just thinking how sexy you look in that frilly pink apron”
“Oh yea?”
“Mhm”
He walked towards you and put himself in between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and played with hair.
“You look so cute~” you kissed his nose, “my cute little house wife~” you giggled as he rolled his eyes and buried his face into your neck. You brought his face back up and kissed him again. He held you closer as he kissed you back and ran his hands all over your body. Wrapping your legs around him as you brought him closer to you. You moaned as you felt him grind against you. You ran your fingers through his hair as he ran on his hands under your shirt and the other on your breast.
*Ahem*
The both of you broke apart and looked at the doorway. There stood Bobby and his smug smile.
“No sex before marriage” he said as he walked over to the stove and turned it off. You smoothed down your hair and shirt as you looked at Jack. His hair was disheveled and rummaged through. Lips wet and pink from your teeth.
“Morning Bobby, didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour” you said as you jumped down from the counter.
“I thought it was angel and your Tia fucking around in here and was gonna tell them to get out,” you smacked his arm as you went to get a glass to drink some water.
“Not every Latina you meet is related Bobby” you said as you pinched him. He swatted your hand away as you went and leaned against Jack.
“You’re saying that cause you don’t want to be labeled as the crazy Latina” he said as he plated the semi burnt eggs on a plate and started to make bacon. You pinched him again and grabbed the plate and walked into the dinning room.
“You’re starting to live up to that stereotype y/n” he rubbed his arm.
“Yea and you’re living up to the racist white man stereotype, Bobby” you bit back as you grabbed some plates to set. He smiled to himself as he flipped the bacon around.
“So angel broke and got Sofi, huh?” You said as you bit into the butter toast. Bobby hummed in agreement as he scooped some eggs into his mouth.
“They been fucking since they came home” Jack said with his mouth full of bacon. You looked over at him and eyed him. He did the same and looked at his plate as he smiled.
“I’m gonna have to tell angel that she can’t stay here. Once she’s here shit gets complicated and we don’t need that right now” Bobby said as he drunk some of his coffee and got up. His plate was finished and came over to get your finished plate.
“Aww let angel have his fun. It’s been a while since they last seen each other.” You reasoned as you got up and grabbed the plate Jack offered to you. You kissed his head as you walked by him.
“I don’t give a fuck. She’s not staying here”
“Who’s not staying here?” Came Jeremiah’s voice as he stood in the entrance of the dinning room. Jack smiled and said Sofi as he gestured to the food on the table. Jeremiah shook his head no as he patted jack’s shoulder.
“Good luck with that” Jeremiah chuckled as he went and gave you a hug.
“You know that boy is strung up on her crazy ass”
“Yea well he can be strung up on her somewhere else” Bobby said as he came into the dinning room.
You made your way into the kitchen and started to wash the dishes. Jack came in a minute later and wrapped his arms around your waist as he set his face next to yours. You leaned against him as he swayed the both of you. It felt nice to be in his arms again after so many years apart. The moment was broken once loud voices were heard from the front of the house.
You scoffed as you finished and wiped your hands on a rag. You pushed the door open and made your way to the couch in the living room with Jack right behind you. He sat down first and pulled you into his lap as the two of you watched the argument Bobby and angel were having.
“Bullshit Bobby”
“I don’t care la vida loca isn’t stayin in this house one more night-“
“Is this your house?”
Both voices start to overlap each other as Jeremiah laughs from the armchair. Jack laughs as well as he rubs your thigh as he brung you closer. Angel looked over and pointed at you.
“So y/n can stay here but my girl can’t?!?!”
“Whoa, whoa, why am I getting brought into this” you said as you scrunched your eyebrows and placed your hand on your chest.
“I’m just here visiting Jackie and then I’m going back to MY HOUSE” you said as you snuggled closer to Jack. He laughed as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head.
“Y/n can stay as long as she wants cause she isn’t crazy like someone in this house!” Bobby shouted.
“Oye Bobby por qué no te cállate pendejo!” Sofi shouted from the stairs. Angel went to her to calm her down and tried to make her go back upstairs.
“Hey was I speaking Spanish? Was I speaking Spanish?”
“Hey Bobby you gonna stop talking to my girl like that”
“She wasn’t your girl like yesterday so I’m confused” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and Jeremiah laughing his ass off in the chair.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know I’m just confused”
“She is my girl!”
“Bobby you’re so mean to sofi” you said.
“Please I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true”
“Yea but you didn’t have to go about it like you did. You’re too old to be acting the way you are,” Jack massaged your head as you leaned back on him.
“Like I give a shit” he said as he flipped the page to his paper.
“Hey Bobby” came angels voice.
“Yea” replied Bobby.
“I got a question man, you know how me and sofi have made a lot of making up done last night?”
Bobby looked up at angel and then back at his paper, “huh yeah.”
“Well I think I got a little rust on my tool and-“ angel opened his robe to Bobby. He in turned looked and looked away when he saw what angel was doing.
“That’s the cochologist in the shower man I don’t know what I know he’s an expert” Bobby motioned to the shower where you and Jack were in. You chuckled as you switched around with Jack.
He poked his head out and looked down at angels junk, “rug burn.”
“Oh thank god” angel said as he wrapped himself back up and was about to go back out when he stopped and looked at the shower.
“Y/n?”
“Yes?”
“Are you kidding me? So you got a problem with sofi but y/n and Jack can fuck around here all they want-“
“Excuse me,” you opened the curtain and wrapped it around your front so neither brother can see. “I only spent the night here. I’m not trying to live here, AnGeL” you stuck your tongue out at him and then went back behind the curtain with Jack.
Angel was about to say something else but you poked your head out and gave him a look. He quiet down as he looked back at Bobby. Who laughed to himself as he continued to read his paper.
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