#just come visit for a week in january he said

[faygos]

one more before i sleep, this is a fanart of a fanart, inspired by this drawing, particularly john's stylish teal scarf/white coat combo.

john is enraptured by the magic of the season. dave is suddenly questioning why he thought it would be fun to visit his friend in this frozen tundra hell state

[nxrrislando]

SNOW ANGEL ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 c.leclerc

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — ᝰ.ᐟ SMAU

PLOT ━━･❪ When he embarrasses himself in front of a ski instructor and even after laughing in his face, he still takes a liking to her: only to discover she’s the cousin of another driver ❫

WARNINGS ━━･❪ everything written is fake and for the purpose of entertainment, mature language, not proofread ❫

key info - anything with ‘ ❀ ’ means speech is in french as it makes more sense for two people who both speak french to communicate in their native language rather than in the second language of english, however I speak no french and would be unable to translate mass amounts of text, will be translating smaller parts tho with an app so translations may be wrong!!

my fics

( INSTAGRAM POST — JANUARY, 2024 )

yourusername

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yourusername noël à la maison, retour au travail🤍

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francisca.cgomes the prettiest instructor 🫶🏻

yourusername love you kika, visit soon xx

username I wish this was my life bro

username did you have a good Christmas break?

yourusername I did thank you, hope you did too pretty💞

username idk who you are, why you accepted my follow request, why you’re followed by an f1 driver and his girlfriend BUT im glad you did your feed is unreal

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

pierre🫡

1 new notification — 16s ago

❀

( TWITTER — JANUARY, 2024 )

astonsainz

published a tweet — 2h ago

( INSTAGRAM STORY — JANUARY, 2024 )

yourusername

posted on their story — 1h ago

viewed by pierregasly, and 379 others replies to your story

yourbestfriend hmm?

| yourusername laisse-moi tranquille

username laughing in that poor persons face is cruel yn.

| yourusername I laugh at everyone falling over can’t help it it’s funny

❀

pierregasly pretty sure it was Charles

| yourusername who?

| pierregasly charles leclerc. F1 driver, you know the sport your cousin takes part in…the guy I said was skiing? | yourusername you never told me which driver and now you just put his first name am I supposed to be psychic

| pierregasly anyway he texted me a little ago saying he just experienced something embarrassing, I’m assuming it was this

| yourusername well if he was surrounded by several people who looked panicked when he fell then probably

| pierregasly yeah it was him I just described what you put on your story to him and he asked if i was stalking him

| yourusername whoops tell him I’m sorry was just a funny situation😭

| pierregasly tell him yourself i gave him your number

| yourusername wtf pierre you can’t just give random people my number

| pierregasly he’s not random he’s my friend and coworker

| yourusername and now he’s requested me on instagram, why’d you give him that as well

| pierregasly I didn’t give him your Instagram, that’s all him stalking my followers to find you

| yourusername oh?

charlesleclerc is now following you !

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

unknown

1 new notification — 9m ago

❀

( INSTAGRAM STORY — JANUARY, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

posted on their story — 3h ago

viewed by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1, 348,991 others replies to your story

username oh to ski into the sunrise with charles leclerc

username where’s the rest of your team?

pierregasly Tu t'amuses avec ma cousine ?

| charlesleclerc tu n'as rien vu

yourusername J'ai passé un très bon moment | charlesleclerc demain à la même heure ?

yourusername

posted on their instagram — 2h ago

viewed by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and 299 others replies to your story

francisca.cgomes pierre just said and I quote “what have I done?” I think you guys are cute personally

| yourusername he’s such an idiot it’s his fault anyway, thanks… but I don’t think we’ll get far cause he’s an f1 driver and I work 7 days a week at a ski resort till mid spring, we don’t have a lot of time together after this

| francisca.cgomes i think you’ll cross paths again before you know it, especially if you come to some races with me

| yourusername maybe idk

( INSTAGRAM POST — FEBUARY, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

uploaded a post — 4h ago

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charlesleclerc will miss falling and the laughter that follows🗻

view all 3,677 comments

username the last photo? the caption? someone’s in loveeeee

username don’t say that he’s only in love with me username @ username confidence gave you delusions huh

username whos the girl?

username asking the real questions here

username my man is so pretty

username pre season training turned into spending time with this girl really?

username hes a grown man, he can do both not that it’s our business

pierregasly 🤔

charlesleclerc 😊 username pierre you know something tell us username who is she what’s going on

( IMESSAGE — JANUARY, 2024 )

charles

0 new notifications — 0s ago

❀

( INSTAGRAM STORY — MAY, 2024 )

yourusername

posted on their story — 23h ago

viewed by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 307 others replies to your story

❀

charlesleclerc I’ll be there to pick you up when you land, it’ll be really nice to see you not just over a phone screen

| yourusername awww that’s so sweet I told you you didn’t have to tho you’ve got a busy weekend coming up with your home Grand Prix I just want to be here to support you that’s all

| charlesleclerc I didn’t have to, I wanted to yn

| yourusername thank you charlie🤍

username oh to be able to afford wifi on the plane (I have like 50p to my name)😞

❀

yourbestfriend if you don’t come back to France as his girlfriend me and him are going to be having words

| yourusername woah ok slow down, we don’t even know if we could make it work for the past 3 months we’ve just been talking over facetime and that’s been harder with our schedules than I thought it would be

| yourbestfriend girl anyone with eyes can see you’re obsessed with each other, you two would do everything to make it work based off that alone, don’t let it hold you back

yourusername

posted on their story — 7h ago

viewed by yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes and 314 others replies to your story

username um hello?? are you watching pierre race??

username are you dating Charles leclerc? I know we haven’t spoken in a while but the internet is going ballistic over a girl in his garage that looks suspiciously like you, just confused thought you’d be in Pierre’s garage if I’m honest

❀

yourbestfriend uh social media is going crazy people are discovering your Pierre’s cousin and believe you’re dating charles

| yourusername i can tell my follow requests are going insane, I knew it would come eventually especially since I’m his girlfriend

| yourbestfriend WHAT?! GIRLFRIEND when did that happen

| yourusername he took me one a date last night and asked me🫣

yourusername

posted on their story — 2h ago

viewed by yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes and 366 others replies to your story

pierregasly you are welcome, if he breaks your heart I break him

| yourusername please you could never you’re too much of a softy

| pierregasly watch me. he tries anything and I swerve him off the track

| yourusername he’s reading over my shoulder and staring blankly at your threats

username um who is this??

username we all know it’s Charles a series of photos were leaked like two hours ago of you to holding hands, him kissing your forehead etc.

( INSTAGRAM POST — JUNE, 2024 )

charlesleclerc

uploaded a post — 3h ago

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,887,911 others

charlesleclerc mon ange de neige

view all 6,788 comments

username there’s no snow?

username lol that was my thought but apparently they met because she laughed at him when he fell when skiing and the he discovered she was Pierre’s cousin who worked as a ski instructor, the nickname is probably related to that

yourusername mon amour🌸

liked by author !

username accept my follow request please username you’re so pretty wtf

pierregasly Vous me rendez malade tous les deux

yourusername shush charlesleclerc 😘

username CALLED IT WHEN HE POSTED HER SKIING WITH HIM

username down bad

username after like a month if soft launching he’s only gone and done it🙏🏽

username the way he’s obsessed with her, it’s so cute

@edwardslvrr🫶🏽

[magics-neptunes-things]

A Baby for Christmas

Hi guys ♥

This is a new style I'm trying so I hope you will like it. Please let me know what you think about it! It was very long to write so I'm really sorry if you still find mistakes in it.

Summary : How your baby comes in your life. (Worst summary ever)

Part 2 is here!

TW : Mention of miscarriage, pregnancy.

______________________________________________________________

December

When Leah looked you in the eye while you innocently drank your coke and said "I want a baby" the shock was such that you spit out your drink. I mean, of course you know perfectly well that the blonde has a desire to create a family, you both talked about it pretty early in your relationship. But you didn’t expect her to throw you this information while you are lying on your couch, dressed only in one of her t-shirts too big for you after activities not necessarily adapted to any public.

By the time you managed not to choke, the blonde had added "With you" which made you bow both eyebrows at the same time.

"Thank God" you answered, dropping your soda can on your coffee table.

Leah laughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe your chin, while taking again.

"I think we have everything we need to welcome a baby properly, don’t you think? We have a house, we both make a good living, and I know you’re the love of my life."

After confirming that she were yours (your two-year marriage could have been proof of that alone), you contacted clinics and took the first steps to the path of motherhood.

You had hoped that the test carried out a few days before Christmas would be positive, but that wasn't the case. Even if Leah hugged you tightly, saying you that's it's ok and you will try again, you can't drive away your melancholy.

The following days, you were eternally grateful for Leah’s efforts to change your mind, going out to different Christmas markets or offering different Christmas activities. She knows how much you love this holiday. And you have to admit that it worked and you probably fell in love with her again.

January

"This is bullshit" you complain suddenly, driving Leah's attention on you.

"Ok. But which one are you talking about?"

Leah's answer made you smile and rolling your eyes. You were walking in Hyde Park hand in hand, taking advantage of illuminations that have not yet been removed. In the early afternoon, many families still enjoy the ice rink and the various activities offered by Winter Wonderland. It's the last day of opening and many people seem to still want to enjoy it.

"Genetics"

All you have to do is take a look at Leah to see that she’s completely lost by what you’re saying. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t fully realize that Leah’s were thousands years away from yours.

"Care to explain?" asks the blonde, frowning.

You sighed and stop walking, without letting Leah's hand go.

"I want our baby to look like you. Not me."

Leah’s smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. It's obvious that your child will not be able to have your both features and you find this completely unfair. Aside from the fact that he would just be perfect, when you imagined having kids with Leah, you always imagined them looking like her.

"It’s sad and cute at the same time" Leah comments, releasing your hand to put her arm around your waist.

You pout and sigh softly, letting yourself go against her. You’re not a professional sportsman and Leah is going to make her big comeback on the football fields in two weeks. It made sense that you were carrying your child for both of us.

"There is a way to make it possible. To make him look like you" you add, once again crossing her questioning gaze.

"Babygirl I love you but I swear if you prepare to mention my brother in any way…"

"Ew no, what the hell?"

You frown with cringe while looking at her. She shrug and bite her lip before answering to you.

"Well one of the gynecologists we visited mentioned me the idea, but I’m glad to hear you don’t like it"

"I mean Jacob is cute because he looks like you, but not in this way"

Leah has a satisfied and superior smile that makes you laugh softly and you note in a corner of your head to ask her the name of the gynecologist to go and stick an one star in her Google reviews. But you’d rather go back to the present.

"So, what I was saying before you try Lannister-ed us (Leah rolls her eyes) is that I saw on the Internet that there is another possibility. I can take one of your eggs and take care of the pregnancy. But in the end it will look like you."

"Just to be sure" Leah says with her special accent "You want to take one egg from me (she put her index on her) to put it here (she put her index on your belly) and make the baby grow so he looks like me (she put herself again)?"

"Yes?"

"I like this idea a little to much" Leah smirks.

February

You’ve always hated needles since you were little. Vaccines have always been your hell on earth and despite all the persuasion of your mother, you have never been able to donate your blood. Fortunately, you have never had an operation, otherwise you sincerely don't know how you would have done. When you told Leah about this little detail, she thought you were exaggerating and laughed. But that was before you had to have an injection every night for the goods of your treatment and that possibly you could have a baby in a few months.

"Baby, it’s time!"

You look up from the television to see your wife leaning against a piece of furniture in your living room, a mischievous smile on her face and a syringe in her hands.

"Oh no" you whine

"Oh yes."

Without giving Leah time to react, you jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. That doesn’t stop you from hearing your wife’s voice sigh.

"Seriously?"

You’ve only been on this treatment for a few days, but every day is worse than the last. Leah is doing her best and she is particularly sweet and delicate, but your belly is covered with bruises and it has clearly become your most hated moment of the day.

"Y/N I swear to god!" makes Leah when she realise that you hide yourself in the cupboard. Again.

"Leave me alone you creep"

But Leah doesn’t listen to you and opens the closet door on the fly. You try to escape, but it was not counting Leah’s sporting reflexes that tackle you on your bed. Sitting on your legs, she knows you have no chance to escape.

"Baby please, can we talk about this?"

"Stop acting" Leah laughs softly as she lifts your shirt.

Knowing that you cannot escape it any longer, you close your eyes and take a great aspiration.

"Finished"

You open your eyes to see the satisfied face of Leah, who in the meantime put the needle on her bedside table.

"I have to admit you’re getting better and better at it" you whisper reluctantly.

In truth, you didn’t even feel anything. But you quickly spot the glow that shines in Leah’s eyes when she looks at you.

"I must admit that I particularly like this position" she whispers as she leans over you, putting her lips on yours.

March

"I think I’ll throw up" you nervously say.

"Actually, I think you were supposed to pee on it" your wife objects with sarcasm.

Despite yourself you let go of a nervous little laugh, rising from the edge of the bathtub on which you had settled. Today is the famous day of the pregnancy test and you are so stressed that you wonder if you will fall out, vomit or simply end up rolled into a ball on the floor of your bathroom.

"5 minutes" Leah grumbles after a few seconds, looking at the timer on her phone. "Who makes these tests?"

"Certainly people who love neither women nor children"

It’s Leah’s turn to giggle a little, but the tension is still there. To pass the time, you sing from memory Good Caroline in your head several times, until the timer rings in the room. Leah jumps so much that she drops her phone on the ground.

You exchange a look and you talk first.

"You’re watching. I don’t have the courage."

Leah sighs softly but gets up from the toilet bowl, nervously approaching the two tests you've done. You preferred to be sure of the result so as not to have false hopes, just in case. With trembling hands, Leah takes a deep breath before taking both tests in her hands. Her nervous face becomes unreadable and you will certainly die of stress in a few seconds.

"So what? Lee?"

After a few seconds, Leah puts her attention back on you, her gaze still unfathomable.

"My Love, I swear…" you begin, ready to threaten her if she remains silent one more second.

"Positive."

"What?"

She seems so incredulous that you think you misunderstood. But a big smile appears on her face and she jumps into your arms.

"Positive! We will be Parents!"

April

Lying in your bed, Leah is scrolling on her phone while you have opted for a more traditional way of doing things, using a book. You’ve been thinking about a name for a few weeks without really finding your happiness. Despite the fact that you still go the time, you fear that you arrive at the birth before making a choice. Not wanting to know if the baby is a girl or a boy complicates your task, but it's time to assume this choice until the end.

"What do you think of Alistair?" you ask while raising the nose of your book.

"Of course, if you want him to be able to join the royal family later, it will be perfect" mocks Leah and you roll your eyes.

"I know!" exclaims your blonde seconds later with a victorious smile. "William!"

"William Williamson? Really?"

"Well, yes!"

Your sarcastic tone and arched eyebrow seem to amuse Leah more than reason since she laughs, proud of her discovery. And seeing her happy face, you can’t help but smile softly.

"Harry?" you suggest, a few minutes later.

"No."

Leah’s clear and almost cold answer surprises you and you raise your nose from your book to look at her. Her eyebrows are raised and you don’t understand why. Does she have a hatred you didn’t know about Harry Potter?

"Why?"

"Because Harry Kane and there's no fucking way that my son is named after a Tottenham player."

Leah threatens you with her finger and you hold back with a smile, realizing that the subject is burning for your wife.

"Oh man…" you whisper softly as you resume your reading.

Some time passes and the silence settles, interrupted only by the rain that strikes against the windows of your house. You take advantage of this silence to snuggle up against Leah and you smile as you feel her cheek pressed against the top of your skull.

"Magnus?" you suggest after a few minutes.

Leah raises her head and thinks a few seconds before nodding.

"I like it. You can add it to the list."

With a satisfied smile, you add Magnus to Cameron’s suite after taking the time to trace William. The innocent look that Leah takes when you look at her while doing it amuses you and you rest your pen.

"We’re only looking for a boy’s name, but what if it’s a girl?"

Looking up at you, Leah puts her phone on her thigh and you see her hesitant to speak again. The way she sways slightly on the mattress makes you think about what she does when she stands up and has to tell you something. Fortunately, this was never a serious confession.

"Well… there’s a name I like, since I was a teenager"

"Okay?"

"I’m afraid you don’t like her"

You smile softly, passing your legs over hers. Your curiosity is driven by the fact that Leah doesn’t seem to want to tell you. Taking her hand in yours, you intertwine your fingers and look into her eyes.

"Come on Leah, just tell me" you whines.

"Charlie?"

"Charlie Williamson" you try the first and last name several times on your tong, under the inquisitive eye of Leah, before giving her a big smile. "I really like it."

May

"I'm scared" you mumble against Leah's neck, where you're hiding your face.

You both were in the gynaecologist’s office that follows you during your pregnancy. This is the first ultrasound you will have for your baby. After taking a blood test after a month of pregnancy and confirming that you were pregnant, you considered it unnecessary to specify that you did a test almost every other day. This all sounds almost too good to be true. You feel like something terrible is going to happen to you.

"I’m sure it’s going to be all right" Leah replies with her deep, calm voice, kissing the top of your head.

In truth, she is at least as stressed as you and doesn't pay any attention to the magazine she's reading. She is also the first to get up when you are called, even if she gently reaches out to you to help you do the same.

The gynecologist asks you about your state of health, but you rather want to shake her so that she hurries to put you on the observation table. You want, need, to know that everything is fine.

After a few minutes it is finally the case and you find yourself nervously attached to Leah’s hand.

"We may not hear the heartbeat well, since the fetus is still small" it informs you, which does not help your stress to decrease.

You answer nothing, focused on the images that scroll on the screen in front of you. You look at Leah when she explains to both of you where the baby is, which you would have been unable to see on your own. These white spots are inexplicable to you. But your wife’s wet eyes are enough to make you smile.

"Come on, let’s try to listen to his heart now."

You swallow and close your eyes, expecting to hear a very slight sound after the doctor’s explanations. But it’s actually a fast and loud drumming that sounds in the room, making you quickly open your eyes. The sensations you feel when hearing this melody are indescribable and you only realize that you are crying when Leah gently wipes your tears with her thumb.

"It looks like this baby is in great shape. Congratulations. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll make an appointment for the next check."

You nod and can’t get your eyes off the frozen screen where the proof is that this baby really exists.

"We’re gonna be parents."

Leah’s sentence, the same one she uttered when discovering the positive tests, seems more like an achievement this time. But you understand her feeling. It seems to be much more real.

"You’re not gonna knock out, are you?"

The look lost in Leah’s gaze becomes clear again when it lands on you and you address her a mocking smile.

"Of course not. Kiss me rather than tell nonsense."

Smiling again, you stand up and put your arms around her neck to kiss her tenderly. You let go of her when she kisses your cheek and neck, enjoying the moment. You’re going to be parents. And most importantly, your baby is healthy.

June

The good weather being back, it's with a little more motivation that you go to Leah's football matches. Even if you haven’t missed one in or around London, not having to cover yourself with layers of clothing is nice. Summer is coming and the end of the season too. Arsenal is pretty well placed in the standings, but it's a FA Cup's match that is being played today. And not just any since it’s the final and Arsenal is playing against Chelsea.

You find yourself in the ranks of families and friends, surrounded by the Williamsons and other family members of different players. The friends are also present since Ella Toone is also part of the ranks, just like Mary Earps and other international players that you have already met several times thanks to Leah.

You're wearing a jersey with Williamson print on your back, Leah's Arsenal cap and you bought yourself a scarf at the booth, which you put on your shoulders. The proud look your wife gave you when she saw you was worth it.

The match is tight and it's with a blank score that the half is whistled. Leah looks for you and addresses you a smirk before entering the tunnel to return to the changing rooms, which you answer obviously.

"Would you like something to drink, darling?" asks your mother-in-law affectionately and you think for a few moments.

Quench your thirst and know that you will run to the toilet a few minutes later and definitely miss part of the game? Or wait for a few more minutes? You end up opting for the second option and given the following of events, you are quite right. If you’d missed that moment, you’d probably have found yourself with a divorce paper under your nose.

60th minute, a corner for Arsenal is played right in the box. The ball is taken from the head by Alessia but ends on the crossbar. However, it’s not over since Lia managed to intercept it and pass it back to Leah who sends a cannon ball to the bottom of the nets.

You expected Leah to rush to her teammates to celebrate, but instead you see her positioning her arms as if she was carrying an imaginary baby and she started rocking it. There’s a big smile on your face when you realize what she’s doing. You haven’t made your pregnancy public yet, fearing you’ll have to announce bad news if things go wrong. It must also be said that the fact that you are not famous and that your belly grew during the winter allowed you not to have too much effort to put in place for this.

Playful smiles on their faces, Leah’s teammates finally reach her height to congratulate her for this goal. These hugs finished, Leah looks for you again among the crowd and you send her a kiss with your hand.

Thirty minutes later, the referee’s whistle rang through the stadium, sealing Arsenal’s victory. You find yourself jumping on the spot with excitement too, cuddling all the people you can reach. You know how important this game was for Leah, who wants to get back to her old level as soon as possible.

It’s only after the cup has been lifted by the whole team that Leah makes her way to you, but you’re happy to see her enjoying these moments with her friends. You smile when you see her running towards you and get as close as possible to the edge of the field. The height of the bleachers doesn't seem to bother Leah who climbs it simply to get to your height.

"I’m so proud of you, Leah" you smile as you stretch out your arms at her.

A big smile on her face, Leah hugs you with pleasure, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"Did you see my goal?"

"Was it you? I could have sworn it was Cloé who scored that fantastic goal"

Leah snorts and you smirk at her, taking her face in your both hands.

"Have you seen my celebration too?"

"I did Baby. You're such a dork" you smile when Leah laughs and kiss her once again, forgetting the world around you, making you believing that you are all alone.

But you weren't.

"Hum. Mind if I hug my sister, too?"

September

Leah’s flirtatious nature is known in the football world and it never changed when you guys got together. You know perfectly well that there is nothing behind, you saw the way she flirted "for real" when she became interested in you. However, as you often tell her, it's not necessarily as easy to understand for the person in front of her. Because of her sexual orientation, they are very often girls.

But then again, you never gave her a fit of jealousy because she never exceeded the limits you set and because she always proved to you that you could have a blind and total trust in her. Apart from her sharp, chaotic, unpredictable and sometimes stubborn character, Leah knows how to be affectionate, attentive, romantic and tender. You think some people won’t believe you, but you don’t care. That part of Leah is only for you and that’s perfect.

But tonight, you feel your hormones bubbling. Leah asked you to join her in the karaoke bar she used to go to with her teammates. Tonight there’s Alessia, Lia, Alex, Katie and Caitlin. After breaking everyone’s ears on an Adele song, Katie was forced to sit down for the end of the evening and sulks in her corner. Alessia and Leah went back for drinks while Alex started a song with Caitlin.

Lia is installed at your side, but you must admit that you're paying any attention to your discussion. Your interest is entirely focused on the waitress who flirts without the slightest embarrassment with your wife.

"You’re not listening to me at all" Lia laughs softly, making you finally turn your head in her direction.

"No, I’m sorry."

You make a grimace but she addresses you a smile, apparently not in the least vindictive. You like the Swiss girl, you know she had a little fling with Leah before you met, but her behavior towards you has always been impeccable. You can’t tell if feelings are completely erased from her side, but she’s a loyal friend to Leah and who would you blame for someone having stifled feelings for the perfect woman that is Leah?

Speaking of the blonde, you shift your attention to her to see that she is still in full discussion with the waitress. Even Alessia seems to find time long, her gaze navigates between Leah and the table. Noticing that you observe the scene with coldness, she taps on Leah’s shoulder with a discreet nod in your direction.

Your eyes cross the baby blue of Leah who seems to realize the situation immediately. So she easily emerges from the grip of the waitress who had literally grabbed her arm to come back to you.

"A little song Less?" quickly offers Lia when she feels the tension emanating from your body.

Alessia vaguely answers a "Yes please" letting her desire to flee the possible dispute that point the tip of her nose, which would surely have amused you another day.

"You okay Babe?" asks Leah, putting a hand on your leg.

"Don’t Babe me, Leah." You said coldly with an eyebrow arched.

"Come on, Baby, it was nothing. We were just talking."

"Normal people don’t talk to others by sticking their breasts under their noses."

Leah rolls her eyes and you push her hand back from your leg, but the blonde does not let go and passes the same hand around your shoulders to squeeze you against her. You try to escape, but your big belly is holding you back. Now the baby’s on Leah’s side.

"Leah" you try to push her away despite the gust of kisses she puts all over your face.

"Leah" you repeat once again, feeling your anger wither.

"I love it when you say my name" your wife whispers mischievously in your ear.

"Stop it. It’s not funny"

Despite this, Leah has a smile on her face when she resumes speaking, your chin delicately trapped between her thumb and index finger.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You know I only see you. It doesn’t bother you so much usually, what changes this time?"

You shrug your shoulders in perfect bad faith. You know why, but you’re not sure you want to talk about it. When it goes like this before, you have a nice time sticking to Leah and making out with her to make your rivals understand that she's yours.

"Dunno" you mumble before you finish your soda.

"You’re lying" Leah whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on the corner of your jaw.

"What do you want me to say?" you sigh softly "she is younger, prettier and she can certainly offer free drinks to whoever she wants."

The end of your sentence was mostly meant to distract Leah from the rest, but it obviously didn’t work. The blonde straightens a little, frowning.

"No one is prettier than you"

"Oh please, Leah, I appreciate your support but I have already gained more than ten kilos. Be realistic. I am. And I don’t like it when women prettier than me flirt with my wife."

But Leah doesn't seem to hear it from this ear since your face always between her fingers is putting closer to hers. Her eyebrows are frowned, much more than usual.

"Nobody’s prettier than you. I’m serious."

You have trouble supporting the intensity of her gaze and you find yourself blushing like you did when she complimented you at the beginning of your relationship. The blonde finally releases your face, but only to tighten you against her, with two arms this time.

"You are my wife. No one is prettier than you."

October

In half a sleep, Leah turns around in your bed to get on her stomach, expecting to be able to curl up against you. Except that it's only the void that receives her, making her frown. Still without opening her eyes, she taps the mattress in search of your body, without success. It's only then that she opens her eyes and rises slightly on the mattress to note your absence at her side.

"Y/N?"

When the silence answers her, Leah ends up getting up and looking for you. She walks through the different rooms of the house starting with the bathroom and ending with your garden, without success. Gradually, the blonde feels panic invading her, especially when she realizes that your pajamas are wisely folded on a chair in your room and that you left with her purse but without your phone or your car.

It's with trembling hands and fingers that your wife grabs her phone to call the first number that comes to her mind in an emergency.

"What’s up Baba?" makes the sleepy voice of Amanda Williamson, awakened at 3am by her daughter.

"Y/N is missing."

********

When you return home, you are surprised to see that an additional car is in your driveway, apparently parked in a hurry. You don’t understand why your mother-in-law’s car is here, or why all the lights in the house are on.

So it’s puzzling that you go to the door, your food bag in your hand. People had warned you that you would have strange cravings, but you didn’t expect to want cinnamon rolls and Beef Jerky in the middle of the night. Unable to go back to sleep and not having it at home, you simply decided to go to the supermarket open 24/24 in your neighborhood to do some shopping.

If you were perplexed when you arrived at home, you have the impression that question marks grow on your head when you pass the front door. Leah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and your stepmother in a bathrobe over her nightgown on the phone with someone. Hearing the front door, Leah abruptly raises her head and before you realize it you find yourself pressed against her with blond hair obstructing your vision.

"Okay, she’s here. Yes … thank you very much" you hear Amanda saying before she hangs up.

"Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?"

Leah releases you a little and holds you at arm’s length, letting her gaze slide over every inch of your body to check that you have no wound anywhere.

"I’m fine! I - I was hungry so I went to buy food"

"At 3 in the morning?!" Leah half-scream

"Yes?"

"Without taking your phone?"

"I forgot it."

"For God’s sake, have you lost your mind?! If anything had happened to you, what would you have done? We were calling the cops and -"

"Leah."

Amanda’s voice sounds and you realize at this moment that she has taken a few steps to get closer to you both. Laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she draws her attention with her calm, smoothing voice. It seems to work since Leah turns directly in her direction.

"She’s fine. You were afraid, but everything’s fine now"

The inspiration that Leah takes to calm down is audible throughout the room and you take advantage of this moment of calm to say in a small voice

"I'm so sorry"

The blue eyes of the footballer refer to you and the embrace that you exchange this time is more made to comfort her for once. Over her shoulder, you give your mother-in-law an apology smile.

"Sorry for pulling you out of bed in the middle of the night"

"No worries. But I’m going back now."

She winks at you and kisses you both before leaving the house. Leah is still in your arms and you gently stroke her back with your fingertips, following her spine. Her face is hidden in your neck and you kiss her hair before you speak again.

"Shall we go back to bed too?"

Leah answers you with a grunt and grabs your hand to train you in your bedroom, taking care to turn off the lights of the house in passing.

"Don’t ever do that to me again" Leah mutters and clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

"I’m sorry" you say again. "I know how tired you are with the games and the training. I just wanted to let you rest."

"I don’t care if I’m tired. If you need anything and I sleep, you wake me up. If anything happens to you and I’m gone, you call me. I won’t accept any excuses."

"At your command, Captain" you smile tenderly before kissing her.

"I’m not kidding, Williamson."

"I know, Williamson."

November

"Y/N Y/S/N Williamson, will you please come down that ladder, right now?"

Hearing the voice both panicked and commanding of your wife, you smile and roll your eyes. Leah’s over-protective behavior is growing day by day and you will surely not be allowed to lift any pencil soon.

"Leah, I’m not risking anything" you say, turning in her direction.

"No! Don't move! You will fall!"

Letting the panic prevail, Leah rushes towards you, throwing her football bag and her boots to makes you come down the ladder by carrying you in her arms like a bride. Smiling, you put your arms around her neck and put your lips on hers.

"You’re so strong" you coo tenderly before deposing other kisses along her jaw and into her neck.

You feel her shiver, so you continue your kisses. Leah was away all the morning and the beginning of the afternoon for training and you were getting bored. So you decided to install the Christmas decoration, going up the boxes from the cellar and setting up your Christmas tree. Without decorating it, knowing that Leah would do it with you. You also had time to decorate the windows with stickers and fake snow and you were finishing installing the lights above your windows.

"Oh no, I know exactly what you’re doing" laughs Leah as you, gently resting you on the floor.

"What?" you ask maliciously.

"You’re trying to distract me from your foolishness"

"I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer"

Leah laughs and you can’t help but smile when you hear your favorite sound. Putting yourself on tiptoe, you deposit a new kiss on her lips to which the blonde responds without hesitation.

"How is my baby?"

Her hand gently settles on your belly and you smile again feeling her do.

"He’s in great shape, he’s been kicking me all day"

"Believe me, there is a future talented footballer in there"

"A striker most certainly" you smirk

"No way. He's going to be a defender"

"Or a keeper"

"Who in the world would want to be a goalkeeper, except Mary’s children?"

You know that Leah is joking and that she will be happy no matter what path your child chooses. But if he could enjoy football and become an Arsenal fan, it would probably be a big plus for her. As if to confirm this words, you feel the baby give a new kick, exactly where Leah’s hand is.

"Well hello to you too Buba" Leah says tenderly before bending over to lay a kiss on your belly.

"How was training baby?" You ask, picking up the stuff Leah threw on the floor a few minutes ago.

"Leave it, I’ll take care of it" intervenes the blonde, grabbing you by the hand. "It was ok, but training in the cold begins to become painful"

You smile at her and decide to take her with you in the kitchen.

"How about a nice hot chocolate?"

"I think it’s the best idea of your day. Way above climbing a ladder and being eight months pregnant."

December

Leah is in the training room, surrounded by her teammates when her phone starts ringing. By habit, in case you have an emergency, she leaves it under general so you can contact her anytime. She gave you a special ring, allowing her to recognize your calls compared to others.

"Lee, phone" shouts Alessia across the room.

"Can you look who’s calling me please?"

The blonde does it willingly, rummaging through spare clothes and cereal boxes.

"It's your mother."

Leah sighs and walks across the room to grab her phone and hang up. However, Leah barely has time to rest it that it starts ringing again, making Leah frown.

"She knows I’m training, why is she insisting like that?"

The question is said aloud, but it could just as well be pronounced in his head. However, this would not have allowed Katie to respond.

"Maybe an emergency?"

"Didn’t you tell me Y/N was with her this morning?" intervenes Lia.

The captain’s face breaks down a little and she quickly picks up at this welcome reminder of her friend.

"Mom?"

"Baba don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital. Y/N’s water just broke."

"I’m… I’m coming"

Just after hanging up, panic seizes Leah who gathers her belongings by embarking half of those belonging to Viv in passing. Miraculously her teammates manage to understand what she explains to them and Lia intervenes quickly, with all the calm and sweetness that characterizes her.

"I’m driving you, there's no way you’re driving in this state."

After refusing that the entire team accompanies them ("It’s a birth, not a summer camp"), it's finally with Alessia and Katie that Lia accompanies Leah to the right hospital. It's finally a good thing that the Swiss woman decided to accompany Leah, she would surely have managed to go to the wrong maternity.

"Leah breathe" Katie says from the back seat.

"Easy to say! If things go wrong? In addition, the baby is early! What if he doesn't survive this?"

"Wasn't the expected delivery date the December 12?" asks Lia, bowing her eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Leah, we’re the 7" Alessia gently intervened.

"So what?"

"I swear to God that if this child inherits your drama rate, I’ll get him enrolled in drama classes" says Katie, sighing at length.

In the room you’re in, time seems long without Leah. Amanda keeps you company until your wife gets here, but between the pain and the stress, you don’t look too good.

"You’re doing very well darling" your mother-in-law gently makes you, to whom you address a smile-grimace.

Fortunately, a few minutes later Leah finally makes her appearance, dressed in a sky blue outfit that you saw a thousand times in Grey’s Anatomy. The relief is so great when you see her come that tears rise to your eyes. Focused on Leah, you don’t even realize that Amanda is taking the powder.

"My Love" whispers Leah as she lays a kiss on your forehead.

Leah tenderly caresses your face while listening to the nurse’s information and you relax as much as possible. You didn’t hesitate for a second when you were asked if you wanted peridulral. You willingly let other women be brave, but you, no thanks.

The hours pass, both slow and fast. Leah does her best to relieve, relax or change your mind. She’s perfect, once again.

It's only around 2am that your baby’s cry finally sounds in the delivery room, after long hours of labor. You can’t tell which of the three of you cried the most when your little miracle is lying on your chest, Leah sitting next to you in bed.

A little blonde hair down, quickly covered with a hat, and baby blue piercing eyes as light as Leah's are the first features you discover in your perfect baby. Just like you hopped.

"So, what will you call this little angel?" the nurse ask you.

"Charlie. Her name is Charlie" Leah mumble, a big smile on her face. "Charlie Amanda Williamson."

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (1)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: One

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: You finally meet Wooyoung's father, and he isn't who you were expecting at all.

WC: 3.3k

CW: Mostly more plot/character development, but suggestive at the end (teasing, flirting). Wooyoung is a brat (no one is surprised), Seonghwa uses pet names on the reader (darling, dear, (little) doll)

AN: Ahhh, here we go, first official chapter! There's no smut just yet BUT the next chapter will be, promise! I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you submitted your final assignment for the semester. You flopped back onto your bed and laughed in relief, feeling your pulsing headache beginning to ebb away. 

The last day of the semester came way faster than you were prepared for. And you weren’t nearly as stressed as your normally would’ve been. 

Maybe because tonight, you and Wooyoung were leaving to go visit his dad. 

Wooyoung told you the next day after you asked that his father responded with an “enthusiastic yes,” and couldn’t wait to meet you. The last week of the semester flew by after that, and now you were here. 

You checked your phone, and you had thirty minutes before you had to meet up with Wooyoung before you started the drive back to his dad’s house. Thankfully, you’d packed most of your things the night before, so you spent your time double and triple checking everything, and collecting everything else you might need. 

And before you knew it, Wooyoung was texting you. 

Heyyyyy

I’m parked outside your dorm, I finished early

Did that essay kill you? 

Come onnnnn, we gotta go sooooooon

You ignored his texts until you were leaving the dorm. You got outside with your bags, being met with the early Winter weather. Cold air, a little bit of snow on the ground. Par for the course for northern November weather. 

Wooyoung got out of the car and helped you with your bags. “Did you bring your whole closet?” He asked as he put them into his trunk. 

“I had to, this is all I have.” 

“Oh, right. Well, you can borrow some of mine if you run out while we’re there.” 

You were going to be with Wooyoung and his dad, and maybe other family, until classes started again in January. A whole month away really was a small vacation, and you were ecstatic to be away from this building with your best friend. 

“Thanks, Wooyoung,” you said softly, hoping you wouldn’t have to bother him with borrowing his clothes. He smiled and motioned for you two to get in the car. 

And then you were off. It wasn’t a long trip, about a forty minute drive, but it felt way shorter to you. You were both incredibly relieved to be away from school, but also incredibly excited for what this Winter Break would hold. 

Your heart was pounding as Wooyoung entered his home town. He hadn’t told you much about where he grew up or where his dad lived, so when Wooyoung drove into a rich suburban neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of an extravagant house you were floored. 

The house was a minimalist, modern aesthetic. The colors were sharp and contrasted starkly, the windows were clear and clean, there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere.

“You didn’t tell me your dad was loaded,” you joked as Wooyoung turned off the car. But when you looked at him, he was nervous. You couldn’t really fathom why Wooyoung was nervous to be home, unless he himself didn’t want to see his father. 

But if Wooyoung didn’t want to see him, why did he bring you along? It didn’t make sense. 

“I need to tell you something about my dad before we go inside,” he started, looking down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them. You couldn’t help the numerous ridiculous thoughts that filled your head, trying to predict whatever Wooyoung was about to say. 

“My dad…” He was already hesitating and trailing off. Warning bells were going off inside your head. Wooyoung thought for a long while, before you could see him mentally make the decision to just rip the bandaid off. “My dad isn’t a masculine man. He prefers to dress like a woman.” 

And you sat stunned for a few seconds as to why your best friend thought this would be an issue for you. 

“Wooyoung, I’m sorry, but do you know me?” You asked. He looked up at you, and along with nervousness, guilt started creeping into his eyes. “I don’t care how your dad wants to dress or act, as long as he’s not an asshole.” 

You saw Wooyoung’s whole body relax, melting back into the car seat. He laughed softly. “Yeah, I don’t know why I was so nervous. I just didn’t want you to be surprised when we went inside to see him.” 

You nodded, and smiled encouragingly. He smiled back, and you both went to get out of the car. 

As you two were grabbing your respective bags, Wooyoung said “ah,” remembering something. “By the way, he prefers being called ‘mom’.”

“Are you sure your dad doesn’t have something to confess?” You said, half joking. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head. 

“No, no, it’s not like that. Believe me, I asked a couple years ago. He likes being a man, he just also likes looking feminine.” 

And then the nervous excitement bubbled up inside you as you both walked up the driveway, then the sidewalk, then the stairs to the front door. You could feel the mix of emotions clawing at your body from the inside out as Wooyoung struggled to grab the correct key. 

The excitement of meeting your best friend’s dad, along with the nervousness of wanting to impress him was making your stomach churn. But not in a way where you felt sick, your body just didn’t know how to calm down from everything. 

Wooyoung finally got the key out and unlocked the door. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and run away. 

You walked inside and were greeted to the inside of the house reflecting the outside. Modern, stark, clean, but with tasteful decorations scattered throughout. Some paintings, statues, plants, decorative lights. 

But all of that was second to the gorgeous man in front of you. 

Wooyoung’s father-or, mother, as he preferred-was sitting on a large, plush couch to the left of the door, watching a movie. He looked over the couch and smiled at the two of you. You forgot to smile back, because you were staring in awe of how someone could be this beautiful. 

You didn’t hear what he was saying as he stood up to greet you two, because you got a full view of him and all the air left you. 

He was wearing a long sleeved sparkly sweater dress that stretched down to his knees, with sheer tights underneath. His black hair was fluffy and fell freely around his perfect face, reaching down to his jawline. 

Oh, his eyes and smile made your knees weak. You could feel nervous tremors run up and down your thighs. 

What might’ve surprised you the most was his hourglass figure. He had tits, hips, and a tiny waist. 

Oh, what a Winter Break this was about to be. 

“Hey!” Wooyoung called, and you suddenly remembered you weren’t in a dream. Both men were looking at you, Wooyoung slightly annoyed, and his mother amused. “Eomma, this is my friend. This is my mom, Seonghwa.” 

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Seonghwa said, holding out his hand. You took his hand and tried to give the best handshake you could. His grip was firm, but delicate. Your eyes flicked down to look at his hands, and to your surprise, even his hands were feminine. 

“Thank you, it’s good to meet you too,” you babbled out, struggling to make sure your voice didn’t waver. Seonghwa smiled warmly as he pulled back, and he turned to Wooyoung to hug him tightly. Wooyoung struggled to return the hug with his bags on his arms, but he still managed to make it work. 

“Did you go out?” Wooyoung asked Seonghwa as he pulled back, looking over his mother’s outfit. “You’re all dressed up.” 

“No, but my son and his friend visiting me is reason enough to dress up.” 

You swear you could feel your head starting to get light. Wooyoung glanced at you, then back at his mother. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go unpack.” Wooyoung looked at you before continuing. “There’s a guest room close to mine, I’ll show you.” You nodded, and you two started for the stairs. 

“Don’t be too long!” Seonghwa called, “Dinner will be ready soon!” 

You felt your heart stutter at the mention of a home cooked meal for the first time since you couldn’t remember when. 

Wooyoung brought you down the hallway, turned to the right, and stopped at the end. “This room on the far end is the master room. Belongs to my mom, obviously.” Wooyoung waved his arms around to express his point, then motioned to the door on the left side of the hall, the one he was in front of. “This one is the guest room, and the one on the other side by the corner is mine.” He pointed to the door all the way down the hall. 

You nodded, your eyes betraying you and drifting to Seonghwa’s bedroom door. The forbidden room, your brain was telling you. You had no reason to go in there, but the idea of going beyond it- 

“Okay, dude, I can see that you were checking out my mom, okay?” Wooyoung blurts, making you whip your head back to him. You’d hoped you didn’t look as obvious as you felt, and your worst fear came true. 

If Wooyoung saw it, so did Seonghwa, and the mortification slowly took over your body as you felt your face burn hot. 

Your first instinct was to apologize, but you stopped yourself. All possible words left you, and you just stared at Wooyoung with fear and embarrassment all over your face. Wooyoung sighed and shook his head. 

“We’ll talk about this later, go unpack your stuff. Wait until I come get you.” And with that, he walked off to his room and disappeared into it. 

You didn’t even get to appreciate the gorgeous room you got to stay in, because you were too consumed with guilt to properly look over it. It was large, lavish, and comfortable, but you felt awful as you started unpacking. 

You were drooling all over your best friend’s mom the second you walked in the door. You couldn’t help yourself from feeling awful the entire time you put your luggage away. 

You jumped a whole foot in the air when you heard a knock on the door. The door creaked open and Wooyoung peeked inside. You were just finishing up as he came into the room, and you felt simultaneous relief and dread. 

Before you could stop it, words began tumbling out of your mouth. “Look Woo, I’m sorry, I know it was insanely disrespectful of me to act that way in front of your mom, I should’ve acted better and I-” 

“Woah, slow down,” Wooyoung said, holding his hands up. You stopped and swallowed back the rest of the words you thought of saying. You realized then that Wooyoung didn’t look upset anymore. In fact, he looked resigned. “I’m not mad. I think I was just protective.” He looked away for a second before he looked back at you. “I didn’t want you to think of my mom as some kind of porn character.”

“No, never!” You immediately blurted. 

“I know you’re not like that, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.” You could see in Wooyoung’s eyes, he felt remorseful. You found it a little weird, because he was justified in being upset. “People have done it in the past, he thinks he found a partner, and it turns out they liked the idea of having him as a personal porn star object, nothing more.”

The fact that such a revelation didn’t surprise you made you doubly upset. 

“So, I guess, what I’m saying is,” he started, and then sighed again. “I mean, if you fuck, just don’t tell me about it.” 

The bluntness of his request makes you choke, and you can feel your face instantly burn hot. Wooyoung finally breaks and laughs, and his laugh makes you laugh. 

You really were lucky to have an amazing friend. Not because he just gave you permission to fuck his mom, but that you could have proper conversations about issues and settle them like the adults you were. 

Then again, you both clearly still acted like teenagers, but it was like a wise man once said: There’s a time and place for everything. 

The three of you were sitting around the small dining table in the kitchen, enjoying the dinner Seonghwa had made for you all. Despite saying that it was a “small” table, there was still tons of space left over. You could fit much more food and people at this “small” dining table with how much space there was. 

The food was delicious. Half because Seonghwa was clearly a skilled cook, and half because you hadn’t eaten anything made with love in so long. The fact that it was made with love and care put into it made it taste stellar. 

“So,” Seonghwa started, looking over at you. “Why are you spending your break with us?” 

You expected this question. You’d rehearsed it a million times over. 

“I don’t talk to my parents, and the rest of my family already has plans this year.” It was the truth, but it didn’t give away too much information. Seonghwa gave you a sympathetic look with a slight pout. He must’ve realized you didn’t wanna talk about it more than that, because he didn’t push for you to explain more. 

“Well, I’m happy to have you.” You smiled and said a soft “thank you” before taking another bite of food. “You’re welcome.” 

You expected Wooyoung to be rolling his eyes with every look you gave Seonghwa, and to be annoyed with how permanently flushed your cheeks were. But to your surprise, he was giving you little smirks the entire meal, and giggling silently when your voice wavered as you spoke to Seonghwa. 

It’s like you two never really grew up. Two little kids giggling at each other from across the table, almost reminiscent of teasing your friends about their crush at lunch time. 

The big difference here is that your fucking crush is your best friend’s mom. 

And yet despite how obvious you two must’ve been, Seonghwa never commented on anything you two did. It was as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. 

You survived the rest of dinner, with light talk about how you and Wooyoung met, how school was going, your major, and more about you as a person. 

Seonghwa began to clean up when you all were done eating, but you grabbed your dishes and brought them to the sink. 

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked as you began to rinse off your utensils. He looked genuinely stunned, and you couldn’t understand why. 

“Cleaning?” 

“You don’t have to do that.” Seonghwa took the dishes from you. Not forcefully, but gently removing them from your hands. “I know, it’s polite to help, but I don’t mind cleaning. I actually like it.” 

“But you cooked. It’s the least I can do,” you argued. Seonghwa looked at you for a moment, then smiled. You felt your stomach flip over, and smiled back to cover it up. 

“Thank you, dear. That’s sweet of you.” 

The name shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did. 

You spent the next few hours with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, continuing to talk, having some movies as background noise. As you sat with them, you observed their dynamic, and learned more about both of them in the process. 

Your irrational theories about Wooyoung being averse to Seonghwa couldn’t be more wrong. He was relaxed, comfortable, and he clearly loved his mom. Wooyoung was cuddled up to Seonghwa towards the end of your conversation, his head basically on Seonghwa’s chest and his arms around him. 

After the final movie, all three of you decided it was time to head to sleep. You said your good nights and went to your separate rooms. 

But despite the comfortable bed, the wonderful room, and the hospitality of Seonghwa, you couldn’t sleep. 

You looked at your phone, you shifted around, you tried walking around, but you didn’t feel tired. You were getting frustrated after a couple hours. 

You decided to go get a drink of water. Maybe it would calm you, or walking around would take your mind off trying to sleep. 

You quietly made your way out of your room and down the hallway, using the light from your phone to guide you. As you passed Wooyoung’s room, you heard him softly snoring. 

You got into the kitchen and carefully navigated to the cabinets. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both had shown you where to find cups in case a need like this arose during your visit. You didn’t expect to need it the night of, but here you were. 

You found a glass and got your water. It didn’t make you feel any better, but it did feel nice. 

“Can’t sleep, darling?” 

Your whole body jumped as you whirled around to look for the owner of the sound. You knew it was Seonghwa before you saw him, but you still weren’t prepared to see him in the archway, leaning against the wall, in a long black silk robe with flowers all over it. 

You shouldn’t have been fixated on the fact that his robe was open enough for you to see the line that ran down his chest, and the slight ridge of each side. 

He laughed softly before he spoke. “I’m sorry for startling you.” 

His voice was deeper than it was before. Smoother, almost. Like chocolate sauce. 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” you mumbled, trying to keep your eyes on his face. That ended up not working out as his eyes made you feel small, and you looked to focus on your glass instead of him. 

But what you didn’t know yet was that Seonghwa didn’t like to be ignored. You looked at him when he spoke to you. It was a rule like any other. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you listen to Seonghwa. 

He walked over to you and grabbed your chin, turning your head to look up at him. Your mind went blank and your stomach churned inside you like a washing machine. A smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up as your cheeks turned red yet again. 

“There we are,” he cooed softly, his voice hardly more than a rumble in his throat. 

“Seonghwa, what are you doing?” You said, your voice wavering on every word. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he moved even closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck. 

“Don’t tell me I was hallucinating the looks you gave me since you showed up. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you checking me out the entire time?” 

Of course not, you knew there was a strong possibility he knew everything. He was at least over double your age, he was no stranger to all of this. 

“I just didn’t think you’d do anything.” You began to stutter more as you struggled to pick the right words. You could see it clearly, in his big dark eyes, that he was enjoying watching you fight to stay composed. 

“And why wouldn’t I? You’re a cute little doll, how could I resist?” 

Your heart gave one massive beat you could feel throughout your whole body. The air in your lungs was sucked out. Your head felt light. You didn’t feel like you remembered how to stand. 

Seonghwa laughed again, and his eyes shifted to something more hungry. More primal. “Come, little doll,” he said, pulling you even closer until you were pressed up against his chest. “Won’t you stay with me for the night?” 

How could you answer with anything besides “yes”?

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[ckret2]

Chapter 29 of human Bill Cipher will find a way out of being the Pines' prisoner or so help him, featuring:

Summerween!!!!

and also:

Henchmaniacs.

Kryptos doesn't actually talk like that, it's just how he's currently feeling.

####

January 1, 1982

"You're late," Bill said, a bit reproachfully.

Ford gave him a surprised look. "Did we have an appointment?" He didn't remember one. He was pretty sure he'd remember an appointment with his muse, even if he'd made it in a dream.

"Pfff, appointments are for people without an eternity of time! No, I'm just used to you dreaming by midnight. It's weird for you to stay up past two when you aren't working on a project."

"I suppose it is." Ford was flattered Bill was paying close enough attention to notice his sleep habits. "I thought I'd stay up late to bring in the new year."

"The what?"

"The... new year?" What wasn't registering. How do you explain New Year's to an alien/angelic messenger? "It's when—"

"Oh, oh right." Bill waved off the rest of Ford's explanation. Several calendars and clocks spiraled in the air like a Ferris wheel in front of Bill, "Between trying to figure out whether you meant it was 0 Pop or Tishrei 1, I completely forgot about Chaos 1. You guys have too many calendars!"

And he'd skipped over January entirely. Wryly, Ford said, "The next time somebody asks for my input, I'll let them know you want us to use a few less."

Bill laughed. "Smart aleck." The calendars and clocks vanished. "And all you did to celebrate was stay up a little later than usual? No parties? Okay, I know you don't know anyone throwing a party—but you didn't even celebrate at a bar?" Bill ruffled his hair. "All work and no play makes Ford a dull boy!"

Ford endured the ruffling. He wasn't quite sure whether Bill was scolding him for staying up celebrating, or for not celebrating enough. "I... suppose I could celebrate in here?"

"What do you want, a fireworks show?" In the distance in Ford's mindscape, a single large firework exploded. It shifted colors, purple to yellow to green to red, before fading. "I don't think so! If you wanted fireworks, you should've gone to the show on the lake. I've got some prophecies to pass on, and I'd rather get to them this REM cycle."

By "prophecies" he probably meant a random assortment of warnings about Ford's upcoming week, which historically had varied in severity from "don't visit the lake Tuesday evening or you'll get caught in a snowstorm and die of hypothermia" to "you'd better get groceries in the morning before they sell out of your toothpaste brand." And Ford was always grateful for such messages—but now he wished he could see what sort of fantastical color-changing dream fireworks show his muse could put on. "I take it it's not a new year on your calendar."

"I don't keep track of that stuff. When you're as ancient as me, celebrating the new year is like celebrating a new hour."

Bill had so easily brushed off the implicit invitation to discuss "his" calendar. Ford wasn't surprised. Over the years of sporadic meetings with his muse, Ford had noted that Bill never shared information about where he'd come from or how he filled his time when he wasn't bestowing his wisdom—as if Bill was a thing that simply is, a muse that offered inspiration because it was made to inspire, with no history or identity outside of its role in service to humanity. He always dodged the questions gracefully.

But he never seemed bothered that Ford had asked. In fact, as long as Ford didn't pry into Bill's history and kept his inquiries comfortably shallow, Bill always seemed happy to receive personal questions. Ford had found that even when Bill talked like he was in a hurry, it was very easy to get him off track (and consequently extend his visit to two or three more dreams) by asking him about himself.

Ford wondered why that was. Was it a part of his duty—was he compelled to answer his chosen students' questions, to enlighten them on the mysteries of the universe, to help tug back the curtain of reality to reveal wonders unknown—wonders that included Bill himself? Or perhaps Bill was used to students seeing him as a source of knowledge without seeing him. Perhaps he was grateful that somebody was interested in him enough to ask.

Whatever the case—Bill clearly liked being asked about himself, and Ford liked getting his muse to stick around a little longer than planned. So rather than letting Bill get on to the prophecies he'd promised, Ford asked, "Do you ever... participate in any human holidays? After all, you've offered so much to humanity. I'm sure any of your prior protégés would have been honored to invite you as a guest to our celebrations. I would be honored." And Ford wouldn't mind having friendly company on the holidays that he'd gotten in the habit of ignoring until they shrank to nothing but a square on a calendar.

"Ha, I know you would! But no, not really," Bill said. "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I look down on your cute little local festivals. They just don't have any relevance to me! A celebration of a bountiful harvest, a prayer to get through the winter, the veneration of a local long-dead celebrity... I come from a timeless realm of divinity, sublimity, color and light! Most of your planet's holidays are about issues that don't matter to me."

"Ah. I see," Ford said. "Are there any human holidays you care about?"

Bill mulled over the question. "Maybe one or two."

####

June 22, 2013

Bill thundered down the stairs, charged into the kitchen, and announced to the Pines, "If I don't get to wear a Summerween costume I will literally die."

Without looking up from the morning paper, Ford said, "Then die."

####

It took ten minutes for Bill to bargain Ford up from "death" to permission to wear a costume—provided that it was free; that Bill agree to stay inside for the holiday without complaint (WITHOUT COMPLAINT) no matter what fun activities he heard happening outside; that Ford didn't have to do anything to help Bill obtain said costume; and that Bill take a dang shower.

Bill groaned. "Another shower already?"

"You wouldn't need so many if you didn't insist on running around in an acrylic sweater and polyester leggings in summer."

Bill knew that. That was one of the reasons he did it. It was useful for the humans to think the showers were their idea.

Bill agreed to all terms, and even volunteered to get the dang shower over with now so they could both get on with the rest of their days.

He'd never admit it, but Bill had been wanting a shower. Not for the hygiene, but for the privacy. This was the first time he'd had a door between himself and the Pines since he'd broken the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

Time to call in reinforcements.

Bill covered the mirrors, turned on the shower, undressed, stuck his head under the shower stream so that if anyone barged in on him he could use his wet hair as proof he'd been showering, and squinted through the wooden door to confirm there weren't any humans lurking nearby. Coast was clear—but wow, it hurt to bend his eye that way. He rubbed at it irritably as he set up his ring of candles again, and wasn't surprised when his fingertips came away bloody. He thought it hurt more than it had last time. He wondered how many more times he could glance into higher dimensions before this body's eyeballs gave out on him. Hopefully he wouldn't need them that long.

He drew Kryptos on the floor, lit the candles, and started muttering the chant to summon him. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas..."

The steamy air went chill, the water pattering in the tub grew muffled, the whole world slowed and paused. For weeks, Bill's every attempt to break into the mindscape had been a futile strain; but now, instead, the mindscape surged up and swallowed him into its gray twilight, like evening embracing the land on the heels of sunlight's departure. Bill knew he wasn't awake anymore. It was working.

A force outside of Bill borrowed his throat to speak the last of the ritual—it worked!—and before his eyes, a diamond window opened into the Nightmare Realm.

####

Standing at the edge of one of the Quadrangle of Qonfusion's many perpendicular floors, arms crossed, scowling deeply, Pyronica glared at a neon-acidic cotton candy nebula light years away. "Guys," she said, "it's doing the thing again."

8 Ball, Keyhole, and Zanthar glanced away from their video game toward the nebula. Amorphous Shape peeled a few squares off a column to peer at it with Hectorgon.

"Look at this." Pyronica clapped her hands.

In the nebula, crackles of lightning-like bolts of light millions of miles long shot through the starry clouds. A noise like thunder boomed from it, rattling the Quadrangle. An ugly statue fell off a column-shaped pedestal and landed on a wall.

She clapped twice more—each time, eliciting more lightning—then gestured emphatically at the nebula. "How am I doing that!"

"Can't be you controlling it," Amorphous Shape said. "That nebula's over a dozen light years away. That light had to have happened years ago, we're just seeing it now."

Already turned back to his video game and determinedly trying to murder Keyhole, 8 Ball said, "Maybe the nebula's controlling you."

Pryonica said flatly, "You think a bunch of stars is making me clap."

"Eh. Like astrology or something."

Hectorgon said, "Could be a time loop thing."

"Could be," Amorphous Shape said thoughtfully.

Pyronica threw up her hands, which made the distant nebula's colors shift slightly. "If it's not weird butterfly effects or faster-than-light light, it's time loops. I hate this place. All it'd take is a hard sneeze to knock the whole dimension down."

She'd been saying things to such effect for the past few months. Consequently, nobody really paid much attention to the latest round of griping about the Nightmare Realm's poor maintenance, until she said, "I'm bailing on the Quadrangle. Soon as I can find a decent rock in some other dimension. Who else is coming?"

8 Ball glanced down at Pyronica from the floor with their gaming setup. "Hold on, are you serious?" He quickly had to look away as Zanthar took advantage of the distraction to attack.

"Yeah, I'm serious. I don't wanna break up the gang, but I'm sick of this dump."

Huddled on a nearby wall like an unemployed gargoyle, Paci-Fire said solemnly, "I will stay, Mother. The Quadrangle of Qonfusion is the only home I have ever known."

"Probably one of my worst life decisions," Pyronica muttered. "The Quadrangle isn't our home, it was Bill's. We're just... just..."

Ducking in from between two columns that seemed to lead to a purple-shadowed nighttime meadow, Teeth said, "Eternal couch-surfers."

"Ha! Yeah, that. Hey, where you been the past week?"

"Took a wrong turn to the bathroom. I ended up in that pocket dimension Bill grounded the electrical wiring into."

"Again?"

"I never know how many times to cross that one infinitely looping hallway!"

Pyronica gestured at Teeth. "See, this place is a complete mess. We'd be better off moving to any other dimension. And you'd like living in a real dimension if you gave it a shot, Paci!"

"No." Paci-Fire crossed his arms. "I do not want to."

"At least think about it. Wouldn't you like to live somewhere that has moons? Instead of going on a road trip to another dimension every time you want to drive a civilization to extinction?"

Keyhole muttered, "I hate those stupid road trips. They're always a zillion light years long and we never do anything fun."

"Hey!" Pyronica pointed at Keyhole. "Watch it! My kid's a lunarcide prodigy, he gets to go on as many moon-destroying trips as he wants!"

Keyhole cringed. "Right, right, sorry." 8 Ball muttered something disparaging about Keyhole's intellect, right before blowing him up for the second time.

Paci-Fire asked, "And say we were to move to a dimension with more moons. What would we do when the authorities follow us home after another successful slaughter?" A side-effect of growing up in the Henchmaniacs was that Paci-Fire regarded The Authorities as a nebulous bogeyman that was personally out to get him and all his family and friends. "Are we to lock the door and cower from them like—like cowards? Or constantly flee from one dimension to the next? No, Mother. I do not wish to live like a pariah in the dark corners of—" his lower mouth sneered around his pacifier, "civilized dimensions. There is nowhere safer for us than the Nightmare Realm."

"Sweetie, you don't have to be afraid of the authorities in other dimensions—"

"Mother! I know no fear." Paci-Fire's eyes flared a bright, dangerous red.

Pyronica playfully tugged one of his horn. "We can find a dimension as primitive as 46'\ without any interstellar cops. Like—which dimension were you from, Teeth, it doesn't even have any organized space authorities, does it?"

"Oh, yeah, pretty much every world in my galaxy was still ground bound when Bill recruited me." Teeth stepped on a column, slid off, and shuffled around it, trying to remember which side doubled as a walkway to the kitchen. "I don't really mind staying here, though. I mean yeah, we don't have a roof, or consistent walls, and the wiring's a mess. But the rent's really reasonable for a place this size in this part of the Nightmare Realm."

Hectorgon processed that. "Hold on." He lay on a wall and slid up it until he was mouth level with Teeth. "You've been paying rent?"

Teeth paused mid-column. "Wh—yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

Pyronica bit her lip to keep from laughing, elbowed Paci-Fire, and hissed, "I thought Bill was joking about charging Teeth rent!"

Paci-Fire murmured, "Bill Cipher was always a most droll prankster."

"Who are you paying it to?" Hectorgon asked.

"I mean—I was paying it to Bill. But I dunno who took that over, so I guess, kinda... no one?"

With a mildly offended tone, Hectorgon lied, "You were supposed to give it to me now."

"Oh." Teeth shifted awkwardly. "Uh... sorry, Hect, no one told me. I don't think I've got enough on hand to cover all the..."

"It's fine, everything's been topsy-turvy since... the last few months. Just give me what you have and pay back the rest as soon as you can, okay?"

"Sure, sure, no problem. Thanks, man."

Pyronica bit her lip to keep from laughing. "All right, so Teeth is stupid enough to stay here."

"Hey!"

"But I don't see why the rest of us should be." She looked up at the trio playing games below her, then tried to remember which stupid paradox staircase led to that level. She hesitantly headed up one that looked promising. "Moving out would be worth it just to be somewhere with consistent physics!"

"I am contented with the inconsistent physics," Paci-Fire said.

"It took you fifty years longer than most kids to learn how to walk," Pyronica said. "I know you're my little genius! It's this dimension that's holding you down!" 

"Boo," Paci-Fire said sulkily.

"Paci, you don't even like the Quadrangle. Nobody does."

Amorphous Shape let out a chorus of sharp gasps. They slid around a corner and reappeared sliding from the underside of the staircase to the top, laying zigzag atop the steps to glare at Pyronica. "Excuse us."

"I'll step on you, Morph," Pyronica threatened. Amorphous Shape grudgingly slid over for her to pass. "Fine, Bill's stupid 2D groupies like the Quadrangle. But the rest of us don't."

"What's wrong with it?" Morph demanded.

"What's—?!" Pyronica gestured upward at the floor below them. "You don't see the problem with this?!"

"It's supposed to be like that. It's a shortcut." 

"It's a—!" Pyronica covered her face and suppressed a scream. "It's giving me vertigo!"

"It doesn't give us vertigo," Morph said defensively. They partially peeled off the steps to look at Hectorgon. "Does it give you vertigo?"

"No, I'm fine."

"What about you, Kryptos?"

There was no answer.

"Krypt?" Morph reluctantly peeled off the stairs entirely and hovered in the air to try to get a better view.

"He probably got sucked into The Void," Keyhole muttered, "it was vibrating this morning."

8 Ball sighed. "Why do we even have that Void?"

"Man, I dunno."

Pyronica ascended to the bottom of the stairs, sat on the arm of the gamers' couch, and said, "The point is—none of us need this place. I got by fine before joining Bill, most of you guys did too, and we can get by just fine now without squatting in his weird architecture project."

She leaned behind Keyhole and 8 Ball to poke Zanthar's arm. "Big Z, you still have worshippers in your home dimension, right? Aren't you still getting offerings?"

Zanthar shrugged noncommittally.

"They've still got legends of you, you can whip them back into shape in no time. Keyhole, you've got family—"

Without looking away from the screen, where he was losing hideously, Keyhole muttered, "I'm not moving back in with my mom."

"I'm not talking about your mom, stupid, what about your sisters?" 

Keyhole winced, though it was hard to tell whether it was from Pyronica's question or from getting killed for the third and final time. "I don't know... Bill and I were talking about them once, and I realized they're as bad as Mom was. Bill said probably the only reason they didn't treat me as bad is because they never got the opportunity—"

"Who cares what Bill said," Pyronica snapped. "Bill's dead! We don't have to listen to him anymore!"

"Hear hear," 8 Ball muttered; but he couldn't throw in anything else, lest Zanthar blow him up and win the match.

Pyronica said, "Face it: the only reason the rest of us didn't leave the Nightmare Realm millennia ago is because Bill couldn't leave."

Morph drifted through the kitchen—reaching around Teeth to grab a drink out of the fridge as they passed—and unfolded questioningly around a corner. "There you are."

Kryptos was in the rec room, lounging on Bill's stupid tacky optical illusion throne with the fabric of reality upholstery, staring out a window (or skylight, depending on your point of perspective). He grunted at Morph.

Morph said, "Bill's gonna be furious you're using his throne."

"Whatever. Z's already spilled time punch on the armrest." Kryptos pointed at the patch of reality on the armrest that was out of chronological synch with the rest of the throne.

"He's not gonna be furious," Pyronica said, shouting through the doorway that inexplicably connected to the rec room. "He's not gonna be anything because he's dead. He died. D-E-A-D."

"He's not." And suddenly Morph were in Pyronica's face, all of their polygons and lines and piercing slitted eyes circling her head like angry moons. Keyhole leaned toward 8 Ball to see the screen around them, and 8 Ball elbowed him back over. Morph said, "He can't be. If Bill was dead, the Nightmare Realm would be falling apart even faster—"

"So let's bail while we can—"

"—but it's not," they said. "If anything, its degradation is slowing down. That would be impossible if he were dead, he's instrumental to holding the Nightmare Realm together—"

"Unless he lied about that, and he was actually making everything worse," Pyronica said.

"Bill's not a liar! We have the data to prove it, we've been measuring the degradation for billennia—"

"I'm sick of your stupid measurements! It was your 'measurements' that said 46'\ was perfect to take over! Was that stupid barrier part of your measurements?!"

"That barrier was extremely localized, there's no way we could have detected—"

"The portal was right in the middle of it! How did you idiots miss it?!"

8 Ball groaned as Zanthar whittled away the last of his HP. Zanthar let out a gentle hum like the sound of an apocalyptic vacuum cleaner as the game declared him the winner.

8 Ball tossed his controller at the TV. The TV squealed in fear. "If Bill is alive, that's just another reason to get out of the Nightmare Realm! Leave before he gets back! He can play king in this dump by himself."

Paci-Fire said, "Surely, you do not mean that. Were Bill still around..."

"No! No, I do mean it! The only reason we've stayed so long is because everyone's too starstruck or too scared to ditch him! Not anymore! If his flat-brained cultists wanna wait for him, fine! But why do we all gotta stay?"

"Hey!" Hectorgon rushed in from the kitchen to snarl at 8 Ball. "Who're you calling flat, cue tip—?"

Kryptos tuned out the argument downstairs/next door as 8 Ball and Hectorgon started brawling. Who were they kidding? Nobody was leaving. Maybe 8 Ball, he'd tried to split four or five times before crawling back, but Kryptos didn't care about him anyway. Bill had always been right about him: he was too selfish to care about the rest of the gang but too stupid to make it on his own. They'd taken in losers like that before and it had never been a big loss when they left. But no one else would leave. Where would they go?

Where could they go?

Kryptos didn't care about the outerplanar Henchmaniacs' reasons for joining Bill; but the shapes were here because Bill had promised to make them a new home. He was the only one in all of reality who could do it. Kryptos was as desperate to hear from Bill as Morph and Hect were. They'd held fast to Bill's promise for a trillion years—so how could they let go of whatever thin thread of that hope remained? Who would they be if they lost it?

But in his heart, Kryptos didn't really believe Bill was out there. He'd been gone too long. And Kryptos couldn't imagine anything less catastrophic than Bill's destruction could have reversed Weirdmageddon.

Yet he was still here, and still waiting, because he didn't know what else to do. He'd stay in the Quadrangle until the whole realm finally fell apart, just in case Bill casually floated back in one day. He'd do anything they could think of to find him and bring him back.

And then Kryptos got a call from Earth.

He sighed heavily.

Calls from Earth weren't unusual. Perks of having helped found the Fishmasons: Kryptos was occasionally summoned by the Fishermen high-ranked enough to be told their organization really did know an interdimensional alien who was their de facto secret leader and presided over their most important rituals. Assuming "de facto secret leader" meant "living equivalent of a beloved sports team mascot," and "presided over" meant "got free invitations to," and "most important rituals" meant "most fun parties." But the humans liked to pretend that their little group was a lot more important and cloak-and-dagger than the social club it really was; and all the wink-wink-nudge-nudge pretending-Kryptos-was-in-charge, while silly, was also kind of flattering. You didn't get many chances to be the star of the show when you lived around a supernova like Bill.

So, Kryptos got calls from Earth from time to time—at least a handful a year—typically from a middle-aged man in a business suit trying to pretend he wasn't giddy about being the guy who'd gotten permission to pull out the candles and contact The Alien.

Kryptos was not in the mood to talk to humans. Humans were why they were in this mess. Humanity could go jump in a lake.

But it wasn't every human's fault that a handful had somehow taken out Bill. And maybe they were calling for a party. Maybe it would cheer him up.

So he sighed again, half heartedly shouted, "Guys—guys, shut up a second, I'm getting a call," and opened up a window to Earth.

His vision was filled with a brown-skinned golden-haired haunted-eyed human who, at the sight of Kryptos, gave him a relieved, face-splitting smile. "H—"

Kryptos hung up.

To reiterate: he took calls from middle-aged men in business suits. That was a naked woman crouched on the floor like an animal.

"Who was it?" Hectorgon asked.

"No one. Some woo-woo witchy type who probably dug up a leaked Fishmason ritual online."

Hectorgon laughed. "I bet it thought it could ask a 'demon' for lottery numbers."

"Sorry, sister, but that's Bill's schtick," Kryptos said. "My number is unlisted for a reason."

Kryptos wondered about Bill's human pals. Well—"pals" was a bit of a stretch—devotees and students. How often did he get calls? And now they couldn't reach him.

Stinks for them. Must be awful, reaching out to someone in another dimension for help and getting nothing back.

####

An ethereal, sourceless voice whispered in Bill's ear, "The all-knowing dream demon you're trying to reach is currently unavailable for visions and prophecies. If this is an emergency, wake up and call your nearest Masonic lodge. Otherwise, please leave your prayers or petitions after the beep." Beep.

Bill stared, jaw dropped, at the empty patch of air where Kryptos had been projecting just a moment ago. After several seconds of mute outrage, Bill said, "Kr... Kryptos. You... I swear, if you don't get back here this SECOND—"

The sheer force of his anger woke him up. His eyes fluttered open to the world of color and humidity and pattering water. He grabbed every towel he could reach, wadded them up, and screamed into them. "KRYPTOS YOU SON OF A— I KNOW YOU NEVER CHECK YOUR VOICEMAIL! AND WERE YOU ON MY THRONE, WERE YOU SITTING ON MY SPECIAL THRONE—!"

He shrieked until his lungs were empty.

####

At sixty minutes exactly, Ford knocked and opened the bathroom door. Bill stood scowling behind it.

Dryly, Ford asked, "Have a pleasant shower?"

Wet hair hanging in tangles, face flushed red, eyes even redder, Bill snapped, "Yeah. Refreshing."

####

"Mabel?"

Mabel glanced down from the stepladder at Bill, then pointedly looked away and continued taping Summerween decorations to the hallway wallpaper. "What."

"Mabel," Bill tried again, a touch more pleading. "O great Shooting Star. My hero. My one and only friend in this hostile universe. Last person who hasn't utterly forsaken me." He leaned on the wall, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. "The sole illumination in the dark night of my accursed postmortem existence—"

Mabel grudgingly looked at Bill again. "What do you want?"

"Listen: I know I upset you at the mall, and I still need to make it up to you—I do, I do, I just haven't had a chance yet—and you're still a little mad at me, okay—buuut... can you help me make a costume." He pressed his hands together. "Please. I'll owe you one. I'll be in your debt. Just let me dress up for Summerween."

Mabel frowned at him. She frowned a little more. She said, frowning, "You're so lucky I love costumes."

####

(Next week: Summerween part 2!! Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed I'd love to hear from y'all what you think! I've been waiting to get to the Henchmaniacs for a long time. Mainly in the hopes y'all will yell at me for putting Bill through heck again.)

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 17 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: As graduation comes and goes, you and Bradley share some firsts and some lasts. 

Warnings: Angst, swears, fluff and smut

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check out my masterlist

Bradley held your hand while you waited in the long line to get fitted for caps and gowns. You kept reaching up to turn his hat to the side, and he kept turning it backwards. But he finally gave up and let it stay crooked. 

"Damn," you muttered as you inched along through the gymnasium. "How many people are in our graduating class?"

"No idea, Sugar. You're the math whiz. Not me."

You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. "You know how our classes are kind of just a formality right now?"

"Yeah," he responded a bit skeptically. 

"And how we'll probably ace all of our finals next week without even studying very much?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"And you know how pretty soon we'll be almost a thousand miles apart?"

Bradley leaned in close and kissed your nose. "What are you getting at, Sugar?"

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his nose in retaliation, earning you a laugh. "Well, what if we just skip all of our classes after this and do something fun?"

As you both inched closer to the front of the line, Bradley asked, "What did you have in mind?" 

"Anything. I just want to spend time with you." 

Bradley smirked at you while you got measured side by side, and then he finally said, "How about we hang out in the study room?"

You smirked right back at him. "I know what that means, Beer Boy."

"I know you know what that means, Sugar."

With navy blue caps and gowns wrapped up in plastic, you and Bradley raced down the sidewalk to the library. The librarian greeted both of you by name, something that still made Bradley marvel since he had never visited the library prior to January. 

Bradley followed you as quietly as possible through the stacks and toward the study rooms. But every so often, you turned back to look at him, and he couldn't help laughing. 

When the door was gently closed, and Bradley had wedged a chair under the doorknob, he pressed you back against the wooden surface.

"I heard you're graduating at the top of your major," he whispered, gently running his fingers down the front of your leggings. 

"You heard right," you replied with pride in your voice as you tipped your head to the side and let him kiss your neck. 

"Hmm, you must be pretty smart then." Bradley basked in the sound of you moaning as he teased you.

You gasped as he sucked on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. "Yeah...you could say that." You tossed his hat to the floor, and your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging softly and sending a thrill through him.

"I love smart girls," he murmured, and now he was working one hand down inside your leggings and pressing you back against the door with the other. "I love kissing them until they sound stupid. And I love touching them until they sound so fucking dumb."

"Bradley," you groaned as his fingers found your sweet spot. "Feels good."

"You want a little more?" he asked, pressing his hardness against your thigh. He felt your hands scrambling for the front of his jeans as you nodded, and your lips parted for him to devour your mouth as he slipped a finger into your pussy. "Don't worry about me. I'm going to get you off first."

Slowly your hands drifted up the front of his shirt until you were grasping his shoulders. Bradley finger fucked you against the door until your legs were shaking and you started gettting loud.

"Shh," he whispered, but he had to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. "Sugar, you're so loud for me." He rammed his fingers into you so hard, you were squeezing your eyes shut as you shook. "It's okay."

Bradley watched your eyes open and flutter closed again as he removed his hand from inside you. "Fuck me," you whispered as your fingers languidly unzipped his jeans, and Bradley scrambled to get a condom out of his wallet.

"Shit!" he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his cock. "We used the last one yesterday, and I never replaced it."

But you were easing him back toward one of the chairs. "That's okay. I think we could recreate the first time you got me off in here."

Bradley sat down with his jeans and boxers around his thighs, and he watched intently as you removed your shoes and leggings. You kept on the tiny scrap of purple fabric that was supposedly your underwear, and you straddled Bradley's lap. When you held his cock in your hand and started grinding against him through your underwear, his head tipped back.

"Oh yeah, Sugar." He tipped his head forward to look at you working yourself against him. You were soaking your underwear with your wetness, and Bradley ran his hands along your hips, guiding you a little slower. He wanted to make this last. "Easy," he growled, but that seemed to push you over some sort of edge.

Your lips crashed against his, and both of your hands were all over his hair. You were grinding up and down his length, wiggling your clit against his balls each time you reached them.

"Fuck, Sugar," he said, practically panting. When you pulled away from his mouth, you looked as far gone as he felt. 

Bradley watched you yank your underwear to one side and slide down around him, and once again, fucking you without a condom had to be one of the best things he had ever felt.

Then he shook his head and said, "Sugar, is this a good idea?" But he had his hands wrapped around your hips, fingers digging into your ass as you rode him. 

"Mmhmm. My period is due today or tomorrow," you whispered against his scarred cheek. "Just tell me when you're going to cum, Beer Boy." Your voice was soft and breathless, and your pussy was fucking tight. And Bradley wanted to live in this study room with you for the rest of his life.

Your lips and hands were everywhere as you rolled your hips and moaned his name. And when Bradley was tracing the column of your neck with his tongue, he knew he was close. 

"Sugar. I'm going to cum." You kept riding him, kept rolling your perfect hips, and he was too close now. "Sugar!"

You withdrew him just in time, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You wrapped your lips around him, pumped one time with your hand, and he was cumming hard in your mouth. 

Bradley watched you sputter for a second before you swallowed all of him down. He was still thrusting a bit in your hand as you kissed his tip and licked him clean.

The words were on the tip of his tongue now, but he knew this wasn't the right time to say them. He just hauled you up onto his lap and said, "I love this study room," instead.

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

After you and Bradley managed to pull your clothing back on, he removed the chair from underneath the doorknob, and you curled up on his lap just like you'd been doing for months. 

"I'm going to miss this," you whispered so softly, you weren't sure he would even be able to hear you. 

"Me too," he told you with his chest pressed against yours, and you didn't know how to tell him that you had agreed to move into your dormitory in Chicago early. You had already started packing up your clothing, boxes stacked up in your closet. You'd be leaving Virginia the day after graduation, a full two weeks before Bradley. But leaving early was better than the alternative: staying without him from late May until your term started in August. 

Right now, you just wanted as much time with him now as you could possibly get. Getting your PhD had been your dream before you met Bradley, but that didn't make this any easier. 

"Sugar?" he asked, face buried against your shoulder. 

"Hmm?"

"How am I supposed to go months with you?" 

Your heart clenched at his words. "I'm not sure. I'm trying not to think about it."

He rubbed your back, soothing you so well, you could have fallen asleep if it didn't feel like your heart was about to break. 

"You know," he started, pausing for a few beats before continuing. "I thought I would be a lot more excited about leaving for flight school. But all I can think about is how much I'll miss you."

You nodded against him, trying to block out his words. This was his dream. It had been his dream his entire life! You felt like a roadblock. Bradley should have been allowed to feel excited for this opportunity, because he earned it. You thought he was smart and sweet, even if he would never agree with you. And now he was going to live his dream.

"Wish I was going to Chicago with you."

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

Finals were over. Bradley ended up with such a high GPA, even he was shocked. But you weren't, apparently. You just told him you knew he had it in him.

He had started to pack up his stuff. He needed to sell or donate most of it, because he would barely need any of it. When he took his favorite tie dyed shirt out of his dresser, he smiled. He'd be sending you to Chicago with that one. He associated it with you now anyway. And he figured he'd get a lot of selfies of you wearing it around. 

For some reason your differential equations notebook always seemed to be on his desk. He figured you might want to take that one with you, so he set it aside as well. 

There was a soft knock on his door, and then you were opening it and rushing toward him for a hug. "Hi, Beer Boy," you said while you kissed him. But when Bradley got a good look at your face, he saw that it looked like you had been crying. 

"What's wrong, Sugar?" he asked, gently tipping your chin up when you tried to hide your face from him.

"Nothing."

"Seriously? You're crying. Tell me what's wrong." He took both of your hands and guided you to sit on his bed with him. "We graduate in a few days, and then we have two weeks together before I leave for Rhode Island. That's like two spring breaks!"

You laughed a little bit through your tears before your frown returned. "I have to tell you something."

"So tell me," he whispered, placing a kiss to your lips. 

You sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I'm leaving early. For Chicago. I'm leaving the day after graduation."

Bradley's jaw dropped open, and he stared at you. "Why?" he finally asked. Why, Sugar?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sniffed. "I can't wait around here until August without you. I can't. So when they invited me to go early, I told them I would."

He just nodded against you and said, "Okay. Okay." But it wasn't okay! Now he only had a few days with you! He wouldn't be able to do all of the things he wanted to do before you left. But he kind of did get it, because he would be miserable waiting here all summer without you. "I understand."

You seemed to sigh in relief as you hugged him, and soon Bradley was tugging off your clothing and pulling his tie dyed shirt over your head, kissing your tattoo in the process. "Let's snuggle?" he suggested, and you held him all night.

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

Maybe it made you petty, but perhaps the best part of your graduation ceremony was ending with a higher GPA than Jeff. You got to walk across the stage right before him, and it was announced that you had top marks for your major. 

You kind of wanted to turn around and give him the finger from the end of the stage, but you were too distracted. You had already watched Bradley walk across the stage in his cap and gown, and now you were looking for him in the crowd.

When you spotted him, you ran up to his row, squeezing in between him and Tyson. 

"I'm proud of you," Bradley whispered, lacing his fingers with yours. "And I'm so happy you're smarter than Jeff, because you can tell that it really irritates him."

You stifled a laugh as some students were still walking across the stage and accepting their diplomas. You looked up at Bradley, and it felt like it always did now. Like someone was trying to suffocate you. The same sadness was reflected in his eyes. 

You were flying to Chicago tomorrow. This was it. Your big day was here, and you were going off to actually have a chance to live out the plans you had made. But none of it felt right. 

"Will you come over tonight?" Bradley asked you softly. "One last night, Sugar? It'll be awhile before I get to hold you again."

You just nodded and did your best to hold back your tears. "I'll be there."

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

It was late when Bradley guided you into the Beta house with his arm draped around your waist. He was ready to take you upstairs and spend the night showing you how much he was going to miss you. But you stopped Bradley with your hand on his chest when you reached the kitchen door. "One more time, Beer Boy?" you asked with a smile. 

He led you inside and told you, "Go ahead, Sugar. Grab two of the good beers." You got two of the beers that you and he drank together the night you met, and he opened them. You and he took a few sips together in silence. 

"Hey, I thought you told me that nothing in here is off limits to me," you murmured. 

"That's right. Girlfriends are allowed whatever they want."

"You're in here, and I want you," you whispered, biting your lip. 

Bradley laughed and downed half of his beer. "You've had me since the moment I saw you. Maybe it took me a little while to get it together so I could have you, but I was yours."

You were in his arms so fast, Bradley almost dropped his beer bottle. 

"Don't say things like that," you begged him as you kissed his cheek and chin.

"Like what?" he asked you softly as he carried you toward the stairs. 

You sighed and your voice was breathy. "Things that make sense." 

Bradley set you down gently on his bed and you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down until his lips were on yours. You were working your mouth softly, slowly against his. But he could still tell how much you needed him. 

The brush of your eyelashes against his cheek, and the feel of your fingers in his hair were making him go crazy for you. Just like he always did.

You eased yourself up onto your elbows, and Bradley carefully removed your shirt and bra. His mouth found your tattoo and tasted it immediately. The undersides of your soft breasts felt like heaven on his tongue. He was trying to memorize every sound you were making and everything he was feeling for you. 

"Bradley," you moaned, lifting your hips so he could remove your shorts and underwear. And now he was the one taking his time, kissing your legs as he went. 

"I'll miss you," he said, licking all the way up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit. "I'll be thinking about this. A lot."

You were moaning his name, legs spread wide for him while he ate your pussy. When you started reaching for his jeans, Bradley eased his body over yours. 

"Tell me what you want, Sugar."

"I just want you." 

Bradley kissed you for a long time before he stood to take his clothes off. You watched him tonight just like you did the first night you spent with him. And as soon as he was rolling a condom on, you were reaching for his hand, pulling him back to you. 

As Bradley pushed himself inside you, he knew that as good as he felt in this moment, he was going to feel just as bad after tomorrow. So he listened to every sigh and moan you made. He let his hands explore your whole body. He fucked you like he needed to. He went slow. 

"You want to take your time," you gasped, caressing his necks and cheeks as he eased himself deep inside you.

"Make this last," he confirmed. And he didn't stop until you came, crying out while your body squeezed him as a few tears slid down your cheeks.

"You're so sweet, Sugar," he whispered against your skin. "I don't want to leave you. I'd rather go with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, keeping your arms around him for a long time. 

When he was finally soft inside you, and you started to move like you wanted to get up, Bradley grabbed his tee shirt and helped you put it on. "Will you take that to Chicago with you? It belongs with you."

"I'll wear it all the time," you promised.

Bradley watched you wipe your tears away, and you both got ready to try to sleep. Wordlessly, you pulled him against you in bed, your lips and breath on his neck as he held you. Bradley rubbed your back until he thought your breathing had evened out in sleep. 

"You don't know how easy it is to love you."

He sang softly to you, and you pulled him impossibly closer as he fell asleep.

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

Bradley woke to his alarm going off. You needed time to get your things and head to the airport, and he wanted to make sure he had time to help you.

"Beer Boy," you murmured, your voice sleepy as you looked at him. 

Bradley pushed your hair out of your face and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. "You're beautiful."

You sucked in a shaky breath and he kissed you. But now you were holding back, and it was killing him. He ran his nose along yours and let his hands drift down over your body. You were grabbing at his back as he kissed along your neck, and you finally whispered, "One last time."

"One last time," he agreed with a soft smile. This was going to have to hold him over. 

You were more frantic now as you guided your body up and down his length. He wanted to look at you, but you were holding him so tight it was hard to even kiss you. 

"Sugar, take it easy. Slow down, smart girl."

"No," you muttered, and he could hear the tears in your voice. "I can't."

So Bradley held you and made love to you the way you needed it. And it still felt heavenly when you both came.

You tried to get up, but Bradley pulled you down against him with a kiss. He hopped up quickly to take care of the condom, and then he was back in bed next to you. 

Your gaze was distant as he pulled you close. "Sugar, I don't have any money yet, but when I get my first big Navy paycheck, I'll fly out to Chicago for the weekend. We don't have to wait until the September, okay? You can take me to the bean."

But you were sitting up now and shaking your head. "No."

Bradley sat up too, and pushed your hair back from your face.

"No?"

You started sobbing. "No. You can't come see me in Chicago."

"Why not?" he asked, but his throat was tight with the words. Then he recognized everything for what it was. "Sugar. That was goodbye sex. Wasn't it?"

You nodded your head a few times, your eyes pleading with his. And now he felt tears in his as well.

"We need to break up," you said, your voice catching on the words. "I can't hold you back."

Bradley's arms were around you in an instant. "No, Sugar. Don't do this. You'll go to Chicago, and I'll go to Rhode Island, but it's just temporary!"

"Bradley," you pleaded, pulling away so he could see your face again.

"You don't trust me." He had really hoped he was never going to have to say those words to you. Not now.

But you shook your head right away and took his face in your hands. "That's not it, Bradley! I trust you. You've been the best boyfriend I've ever had. But you worked too hard for this, and you need to focus on flight training. Missing me and thinking about me isn't going to help you. This is your dream."

"Why can't I have two dreams?" he asked softly. Your eyes drifted closed, and he could see the tears leaking down your cheeks now. 

"I'm so proud of you. You're going to be amazing," you told him. 

"Please."

But you just kept shaking your head as you got to your feet and pulled on your shorts and shoes. 

Bradley was sitting on the edge of his bed, with his face in his hands. He only looked up when you said his name so softly, he thought he had imagined it. You had your phone in one hand and you were wearing his shirt, and he didn't think he would ever be the same again after this.

You bent down and brushed your lips softly against his. "I love you, Beer Boy."

And then you turned and ran your fingers along his door, glancing back at him one time before you left.

"Sugar."

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

Bradley spent the next two weeks in a state of numbness. His fingers no longer seemed to be able to type out text messages to you; he had sent so many and received none in return. His voice didn't work right anymore, which was fine, because you weren't answering his calls either. You had most certainly blocked his number. 

He knew why you did it. He understood. He would never blame you for it. But that didn't mean that he had to agree with it. The only thing Bradley wanted at the moment was you, and he didn't think that feeling was going to change for a very long time.

When he was cleaning out his room for the last time, he stood in front of his bedroom door. You made him a better person. You made him work for what he wanted. You made him fall in love with you. 

But you wouldn't even let him tell you that. 

Bradley took a photo of his door, and promised himself he would use it as a reminder that he was different and better than he used to be. Then he uncapped the black marker in his hand. He slowly scribbled out your phone number and let himself feel everything. 

But he left the rest for the next guy to deal with. 

SUGAR

what's your number?

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

THE END.

Beer Boy and Sugar seem to have some unfinished business.... please stay tuned for Right Girl, Wrong Time!!!!

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[misshoneyimhome]

Cause I'm not ready | Auston Matthews 

Tags: jealous!auston; Austonxreader;

A/n: I don’t know why, but I feel like Auston would be the kind of guy that isn’t good at showing his emotions and admit his feelings to himself 😉

*

Cause I'm not ready; To find out you know how to forget me I'd rather hear how much you regret me And pray to God that you never met me Than forget me

”Forget me” - Lewis Capaldi

*

Dating Auston Matthews was no walk in the park; however, it had been the best three months of your life. It was just after New Year's, when Auston had made his move. You were a friend of a friend of a… you weren’t even sure how you became part of the group hanging out with the hockey players of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Nonetheless, you and Auston had grown close and formed a relationship, the more time you had spent together as a group.

So, one cold January evening, Auston had decided that he'd want to spend some alone time with you and get to know you better. And oh, so did you. It had been a classic: starting out with a coffee chat, then dog walks with Felix while talking, then evenings at his place simply watching your favourite shows. After a few weeks, it turned into make-out sessions on the sofa, and not long after, heated sessions in the bedroom followed.

It had been truly amazing. Not to mention the sex; oh boy, did that boy know his way around a female body. He had made you feel incredible. The first times had been slow and soft; he took his time to make you feel good, to please you - he'd always make sure you had at least one orgasm before continuing to make himself feel good inside you. Then it got a bit more heated; to which you couldn't complain. Auston had a bit of a rough side to him - nothing BDSM kinky or alike, but he simply liked to dominate in the bedroom - and the kitchen, and the living room, and the bathroom… okay, his entire condo and maybe even yours. But again you didn't complain. He was amazing. Full stop.

But then the playoffs came closer, and Auston had to prioritise his time and energy on hockey. It hadn't been a bad breakup - if you can even call it that. He had been honest with you, which is more than you can say most other guys had ever been, and a part of you had sort of seen it coming. You had been spending quite a lot of time with the hockey players and their significant others, so you knew how much time and effort the players had to put into training and the games. So when Auston said he couldn't find the time to see you, you were okay. A little disappointed, but okay.

Honestly, you probably hadn't even expected it to become anything more serious. Auston wasn't exactly known to be the marrying kind of guy who'd want to settle down ASAP and have a family. He might want to someday, but for now, he enjoyed his youth. And with his charming personality, flirty smiles, and devilish demeanour, he could probably have anyone he'd like. Auston enjoyed the freedom of being a young bachelor, but there had been something about you that had made him enjoy the closeness of someone. Something had triggered within him to reconsider the whole idea of a relationship. But for the time being, he'd want to focus on hockey.

So now that the new season was about to begin, and everyone was slowly coming back to Toronto, you knew you were eventually going to see him again. And you didn't mind at all. You had had a great time over the summer; you'd visited your family, gone on a few trips with the girls, caught up on sleep and your favourite TV shows… it had been a great summer - and oh yes, you'd also started seeing someone.

Dean was sweet; a couple of years older than you, worked in banking, and was an overall good guy. And he adored you. He'd do anything for you - even come along to the first home game of the hockey season, even though he knew nothing about the sport.

Auston had expected to see you during the friendly games, but when you weren't there, he'd felt a small tinge of disappointment. During the off-season, he'd missed you, but he didn't want to reach out, seeing on your Instagram how much fun you were having. And he also knew that he was the one who broke it off. But nonetheless, he missed you.

So when he saw you for the first time in months, after the winning home game, where he had played amazingly by the way, he was thrilled. Well, at first. Until he saw the guy standing next to you, with an arm around you. Auston never thought of himself as the jealous type - but that was until the moment he saw you smile and laugh when engaging in a conversation with the other friends and families. A laughter that was music to his ears and a smile that lit up his entire world, even on a grey rainy day. A smile that usually he'd be the one to put on your beautiful face and a laughter that was usually caused by one of his idiotic jokes.

You seemed happy.

"Hey Aus," you smiled. "What a great game!"

Auston simply smiled back at you.

"Thanks," was all he managed to reply.

You were even being nice and friendly towards him. You greeted him as the friend he was to you, and congratulated him on the win as well as praising his wonderful play. Couldn't you just at least be mad at him? Or something? It just seemed like you'd forgotten all about what had happened between the two of you. Like it was nothing. But it was not nothing. Not to Auston at least. Only he'd just realised that now.

"Dean, this is my friend Auston - Auston, this is Dean," you introduced the two lads. You figured, why not - Auston had broken up with you, and you'd decided to stay friends, so why couldn't you introduce your new flirt?

"It's nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you," Dean said, offering Auston a friendly smile.

"Can't say the same about you - I mean, that I've heard about you… but great to meet you too," Auston blurted out.

There was a slight awkward feeling among the three of you, but you handled the situation nonchalantly, and you all went back to chatting with the group.

**

Between that game and the following home game, you and Auston had barely talked. Not that you'd talked much during the off-season - it had mostly just been occasional snaps of whatever you were doing, wherever you were, and liking each other's Instagram stories and posts.

But these days had been killing Auston. Knowing that you were in the same city as him, talking to the same people, and going to places where he'd be, was killing him. He'd want to reach out to you. To spend time with you. To make you laugh and talk to you like you used to. But you were with Dean.

And honestly, you didn't even think of Auston. You were happy with Dean. And just overall happy to be back in your everyday life routines. Nothing could get you off course.

So you thought.

After the home game, yet another win for the Leafs, Auston quickly noticed you standing with the group of significant others, chatting. But this time you weren't wearing his jersey, like you used to. And Dean was there as well.

As Auston came out of the locker room, he moved towards you to greet you. You were smiling as your eyes locked and took a little step forward to meet him. And that's when Auston couldn't stop himself - he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn't an intense kiss nor just a peck on the cheek - it was a soft and gentle kiss on the lips.

Without saying a word, Auston pulled away and walked back to the other players. You were baffled. Stunned by his actions. Yet a certain, familiar sensation of pleasure filled your body.

"Wow… somebody wants people to know that you're not available…" Dean nervously chuckled.

"Oh no… that's just Auston being…" you trailed off, unable to fully articulate what had just happened.

"I think I get the message," Dean softly said, offering a friendly smile. "He likes you."

You were unable to reply. So you just simply nodded.

"…and you like him," Dean added.

Again, all you could do was nod.

**

After Auston had finished up in the locker room, he walked out and immediately saw you standing alone.

"Where's your date?" He asked, coming over to you. You couldn't help but smile a little.

"He left," you said with a calm and soft voice.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why…" you gave him a slight puzzled expression. "Because of you."

Of course, Auston knew that. He just wanted for you to say it. And he simply let out a sigh.

"I don't get you, Aus…" you tried your best to remain calm. "You broke it off with me… but then you go and do something like this?" You spoke with a soft voice.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what to say, y/n," Auston simply replied.

"Just tell me what you want?"

Auston was unable to formulate a proper sentence. Something that was unusual for him. When he didn't say anything, you let out a sigh and slowly began to walk away.

"Well, let me know when you've figured it out…"

You were almost by the exit, when a hand grabbed yours and pulled you into a large body. Auston had run after you, and still unable to articulate his feelings, he pulled you in for a deep kiss.

The kiss was good - wonderful even - and only when needing to breathe for air, you both pulled away.

"You," Auston softly spoke. "I want you."

[cryptidghostgirl]

heyhey! You said you had a request but couldn’t see it and in case it was mine here i am once again humbling asking you to feed my delusions. I am the same person who asked for the one with the fake dating trope and the one where reader spawns into the lobby :))

But i am here now going for a more angsty route! >:) Granted, this is more of an OC x Alastor but im describing it more generic for the populace BUT HERE GOES

right before “Cover me” reader kept silently glancing over at Alastor which was on the dance floor, subconsciously making him approach her. He goes of course they have a (Important for later) conversation like “I havent seen you around here. Are you new around town?” “Just moved in actually~” “Well, Id love to give you a tour someday, the names Alastor” and he kisses her hand “Ah a charmer, ill have to be careful around you” (OR A MORE ELEGANT CONVERSATION THEN THAT I SUCK AT DIALOGUE) then theres the knife and gun scene and the team up

And then they get together after about a year or two and I dont wanna say theyre legally married but eventually use wife and husband terms because its more fancy and gives them more respect in eyes of others but they have been together for around 5 years at this point.

but then the events of 1925 happen where readers twin brother dies because some bastards set fire to his house and Reader has an argument with Alastor before eventually going alone to avenge her brother (theyre like “theres too many, youll die” “so be it!”)

Reader kills them all (duh) but because it was January and extremely cold she eventually gets hypothermia and during the delusions it gives she stumbles and gets impaled on an abandoned rusty fence spike and dies :3

Alastor find her and gives her a proper burial and 8 years later in 1933 while visiting readers grave he gets shot canonically

But these 8 years gave reader enoigh time in hell to establish her own dominance and due to the life she lived and the death of hypothermia- she gets turned into a sort of blizzard demon. Around 180 cm with black limbs, white fluffy hair and fluffy ears and a white tail as a sinner form and for the demon form im thinking of the faceless Room Guardians by Anyaboz on Instagram (incredible artist btw) with ice powers like summoning weapons and ice spikes and ice touches and moving freely (like Kindred’s wolf in League) in her blizzard. Taking over half the pentagram like this-

Until 1933 when Alastor pops up in hell, does his demon business and eventually wants to check out these frozen parts and goes into a bar very similar to the one they met and sees reader at the table and then THEY HAVE THE EXACT SAME CONVERSATION THEY HAD WHEN THEY FIRST MET (maybe with the knife and gun scene too hehe) and theyre both like “i forgive you” or smth idk maybe they just have a silent agreement- either way.

After they met the blizzard stops and no one knows why or who did it :>, readers identity as the blizzard demon remaining a secret

BTW I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING MY DREAMS COME TRUE- if you want more i have a ton of ideas because brain rot- (also lil side note i kind of imagine reader as albino because it would fit my ocs lore a bit more- but keeping it basic would fit everyones ideas of their own reader so! do what you please you already made my day better by reading my ideas come to life :3))

yes!! i did see yours and it is currently in third place for requests i need to fill so ill probably get it done by this weekend, early next week at the latest. it’s just taking me a bit because i’m in midterms rn and also i want to make sure i get in all the details :) i think it might’ve been a request for alastor’s mom reader x lucifer?? i recall getting one about that but can’t seem to find it anywhere. long story short,, your request is in progress and i will post it as soon as i have the time to finish it up :)

UPDATE: This piece has officially been posted as of Friday February 23rd, 2024.

Frostbite (Alastor x Reader)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Idk if the emoji thing works but 🐺

AITA for ignoring my friend's relationship and waiting for it to end?

Background: I (20F) have known my best friend (19X) since we were 14. We've gone through a few different friend groups (nothing dramatic, just fading relationships) but have always stuck with each other, partially because we are both autistic. I know them very well and they have said that I am their main support system. They have BPD which causes them to get obsessed with someone, which normally I would not think is my business, but they have a history of getting obsessed with people who hurt them, and I've always tried to warn them if I felt someone had bad intentions.

They've recently escaped their abusive household which is really exciting but I worry might make them feel lonelier because they've been getting into more of these situations recently. There were a couple minor relationships where someone broke a boundary causing them to have a breakdown, but neither affected their safety. And a few months ago they were talking to an older man online who I got weird vibes from but only mildly hinted to them he was creepy, which made me feel guilty when it ended up being way worse than I thought and became a disaster.

About three weeks ago, they started roleplaying with some guy on twitter, which I didn't think much of since they mainly just talked about what a good writer he is and he seemed fine. But then they asked what I would think if they started dating him even though he's in his 30s and I kinda thought they were just looking for a reason not to do it, so I said no he's too old for you. But then they started trying to convince me it was a good idea which only made me more hesitant. Their evidence in favor included that he used to be in the military (they know i hate the military so I do not know why they admitted this) and pictures of him (I am gay so this would not convince me regardless). They seemed surprised by my negative reaction, I said sorry but you asked for my honest opinion, they understood and I thought this was the end of it.

But now they're legitimately online dating and they talk about him all the time, they don't seem to understand that I am not a fan of this relationship and expect me to react positively to everything he does. I don't react negatively or completely ignore them I just go "ok" or "cool." They might not notice this because I often have times where I can't speak much so it's unfortunately normal for me.

I haven't noticed any other red flags from this guy other than the age gap and the military thing, but those seem a lot worse to me because of my friend's history and penchant for ignoring red flags, so I feel like if something worse was going on I wouldn't even know. Apparently he's going to come visit them in August (it's January as I send this) and I feel like that's enough time that the relationship will either die out or end horribly before he actually has the chance to physically be around them.

I feel torn in two different ways. On the one hand, I know that I'm paranoid and overprotective, not to mention scared of men, so I could just be overreacting to the situation. I don't think he's going to murder them or anything, but they're sensitive and I don't want them to add someone to the long list of people who traumatized them. They ARE a legal adult so it technically shouldn't be a big deal but they're the first person to be creeped out by legal age gaps, they just don't seem to apply this logic to themselves. I'm also not super experienced in relationships, I've only had a few short casual ones so I am not at all an expert.

On the other hand, I felt like shit when the situation with the other guy blew up even though they never blamed me for it. I feel like I should be doing more to dissuade them but they didn't seem to care when I warned them before so I feel like it's a lost cause and I don't wanna be pushy, I want them to genuinely understand why it's not a good idea.

I feel like I'm damned if I do damned if I don't, so I've kinda just settled on passively not really giving them feedback on the relationship in the hopes they'll figure it out themselves? As always I check in on them, try to give them positive attention so they're not desperate for it, and if the relationship actually lasts til August I'll make sure I know their location so they can tell me if they feel unsafe.

I feel like an asshole no matter what I do, so what I'm asking specifically is AITA for basically just ignoring the situation hoping it solves itself? Either because I should be supporting it or because I should bring up my concerns with them again.

What are these acronyms?

[thiccpersonality]

B My Valentine: (aka) A brief love holiday interlude to Damian (Gremlin) Wayne and his even more gremlin-esque family

It was Valentine's Day at Wayne Manor. A usually peaceful and non destructive holiday. Usually you'd expect for a love filled holiday event to be filled with...well, love and affection for each other and remembering what makes you love each other.

But in Wayne Manor, Valentine's Day means more competition, for what you ask? Well, for more of Bruce's approval of course! Every night (actually weeks) before the big day Bruce's family spends the night(s) toiling away at handmade cards and ideas, each trying to outdo the other on their gifts and carefully crafted surprises for their dear dad.

But...they (Richard, Jason and Tim) have an issue. There's extra competition today, not only is that brat Damian (reluctantly admitted by the older boys to be) super talented, but those wenches Bruce (for some reason) adopted into the family suddenly flocked towards Wayne Manor with a competitive gleam in their eyes. The three eldest could practically smell the determination from Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra.

Bruce's cousin Kate even came, but she said it was for the seasonal goodies and to watch the chaos unfold. Although, the boys and girls are weary about her...the woman can be surprisingly great at hiding her emotions, even to the point of confusing Cass sometimes.

Of course no one lets Bruce in on the fact his family are being competitive on such a loving day, they just are content on letting the man bask in the loudness of his large home. The man always brightens up in his own way when everyone (or almost everyone. Duke couldn't make it) manages to visit, the corners of his lips turn up slightly and everyone has come to notice a happy blush overtakes his usually pale cheeks.

Which brings everyone to now. January 14th: Valentine's Day on a Wednesday at 7am. Richard waking up at a horrid smell coming from what he assumes to be the kitchen, his jaw clenching when he goes to check his hidden camera in the kitchen only to find the device not working and showing a glitchy and static screen.

The acrobat creeps out of his bed and down the hallway and stairs towards his target, his ears honing in on the quiet curses from a woman. Richard slips into the kitchen to watch Stephanie freaking Brown trying to cook...whatever it is? The older can't actually tell with how charred the...pancake? Or some batter like texture is burned and others a mixture of charred and undercooked.

Stephanie gasps at a tall shadow being cast behind her the girl preparing to turn around only to be pressed into the counter as an all too familiar voice whispers softly and all too sweetly in her ear, "Do you need my help, traitor?"

Richard allows the blonde to turn around and smiles down at the flustered girl, "Traitor!? How am I a traitor? We never agreed to work together." Stephanie sputters and blows a strand of hair out of her face.

Richard narrows his eyes at the younger girl and pulls away, "I suppose so. But your actions these past few days were letting me know we had some sort of pact. How could you shut off my cameras like that?" Stephanie look at the taller confused, "You...put cameras up to watch us? What is wrong with this family!?"

From the doorway comes a deeper voice, Jason holding out his hands to show the covert listening devices-aka: bugs/wires that were put in his and everyone else's rooms-when the two turn to look at him.

"Then how do you explain THESE, Stephanie? I know you and Timbo were helping each other bug everyone's rooms. You two thought you could be sooo sneaky."

Stephanie opens her mouth to defend herself, but Tim suddenly appears from a cabinet, stepping in front of the now baffled girl. "Not another word Stephanie, he has no proof. As far as we know he could be accusing us of his own crimes."

A burst of laughter escapes Jason and he pulls out his phone to wave it around, "Are you sure about that? I wouldn't sound so confident talking like that to the person who has video evidence from A CERTAIN SOMEONE'S hidden cameras." Tim gasps and Stephanie curses, the two looking to a betrayed looking Richard who points at the skunk haired teen.

"I-It was you who shut off my cameras! You knew about them and were using them to get blackmail material!"

Tim crosses his arms and huffs, "Kind of sus that he knew about my bugs as well! Almost like he was spying on us the whole time!"

Richard gasps again and turns to Stephanie, "Or almost like he had help shutting things down and figuring things out so a CERTAIN GIRL could sneak her ass downstairs to make Bruce handmade food." Stephanie's eyes widen and she shakes her head, "I demand a lawyer. You can't pin all of this on me! We were helped by Barbara!"

At the confession a curse is heard from what sounds like a speaker, when Jason gets to searching he finds one behind the fridge, Barbara's voice bitter as it speaks. "I'll get you for this, Steph. So what if I helped them both? You both asked help from Cass to take those cameras down as well."

Jason and Steph curse while Tim sips at his suddenly materialized coffee, shaking his head disappointedly. "There's no loyalty in family anymore. Where did the trust go?"

Cassandra jump scares everyone by suddenly appearing on top of the fridge, her brown eyes staring down on them like a judgmental god, "No trust. Only war. You three let downs. Quiet agreement. You break truce-" brown eyes narrow accusingly at Jason and Stephanie-"Now my enemies. Free game."

Barbara suddenly appears from the doorway and immediately starts to pin blame on the two teens.

Chaos soon erupts and everyone is pinning blame on one another. The arguing group not noticing Damian listening from above the steps and smiling to himself at how everything worked out beautifully. He still finds it odd how a mysterious source left a note in his room about all the going ons of his enemies siblings...but he'll count his blessings one by one he supposes.

Damian excitedly rushes to Bruce's room and opens the door quietly, stilling at seeing his father up in bed with Alfred by his side. The two men holding bugging devices and watching videos of everything that happened the past few weeks, Bruce looks up in surprise at Damian before his brows furrow.

"What is all this?"

Damian opens and closes his mouth, too flustered at being caught to respond. At the silence Bruce just sighs and stands up, grabbing Damian's small hand in his and leading him back out of the room. "I assume your siblings are up as well? We need to have a talk about this right now."

Damian bows his head as he's led into the kitchen by Bruce, everyone quieting down at realizing they've been caught red-handed.

--A few minutes later--

"It's touching that you all want my affection...but if this is the only reason you celebrate Valentine's Day is to squabble and one up each other...then maybe don't. A-Am I really that bad at letting you guys know I love and appreciate you that you have to fight for me to notice you?"

Jason frowns at that and shakes his head, "You can be a bit emotionally constipated-" he grunts at the elbow in his side-"But we know you love us! It's more of like...your love is such a treasure we get greedy and want to eliminate any and all competition!"

Bruce looks up at the genuine smiles and nods of agreement from his children, the man sighing and shoulders slumping more. "But I want to love all of you-" Ice blue eyes turn to look at the mess in the kitchen curiously and hopefully-"Oh? W-Were you all trying to make me breakfast? Did you all come together to try and make me food?"

Everyone freezes and looks at each other before coming to a silent agreement, all the Wayne children smiling and nodding quickly, their voices meshing together to sound like a happy symphony.

"Of course! We only wanted you to be happy!"

Bruce's eyes widen in shock and awe, his cheeks flushing happily as he stands and starts directing his kids to do different tasks. "I used to cook with Alfred a lot as a kid! We can cook breakfast together!"

The family get so distracted cleaning up Stephanie's mess that they don't notice Kate and Alfred at the kitchen entrance. The former huffing a laugh and looking at the butler suspiciously, "So how did you do this?"

Alfred keeps his gaze forward and smirks the tiniest bit before patting the red head's arm and turning away. "I had no involvement my dear child, it must be cupid working their magic. You go join them and I'll be right back."

Kate tilts her head but quickly rushes into the chaos to join her cousin and his crazy kids.

Alfred smiles at hearing the laughter and noise coming from the kitchen as he heads up the stairs again. Damian's complaints being heard on Stephanie and Tim's mixing patterns, Richard fighting with Jason on who's going to lick the spoon and Cass and Barbara murmuring quietly on how they'll decorate Bruce's plate to look pretty.

After arriving to Bruce's bedroom again Alfred steps onto the balcony, clears his throat and looks towards the sky, "Master Kent." Only a millisecond passes before Clark-or he should say Superman-is hovering in front of him, deep blue eyes curious on the outcome of his mission.

"So how did everything go? Did you really need to do all this just for them to calm down enough to act...civilized?"

Alfred smiles and nods, "Of course! The one thing we all can agree on is Bruce's happiness, as soon as master Bruce was disheartened by their behaviors they immediately pulled their acts together and are now making breakfast with hi-"

"Alfred? Is everything alright up here? I just thought you'd be quick to come take pi-" Bruce pauses at seeing Clark hovering outside and makes his way over to the two men-"Clark? Is everything okay? You didn't get hit with Kryptonite did you!?" Alfred smirks softly as the final part of his plan is in motion, the older gentleman eyeing the Valentine's card poking out from Superman's red shorts, the butler whispering so only Clark can hear him as he excuses himself.

"I do believe you have something to give master Bruce?"

Clark looks down nervously as the door clicks shut and he hovers closer to the concerned man, taking a deep breath in and shoving the handmade card he crafted for Bruce into his chest. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Bruce stumbles back just a little and looks at the card, smiling at the words 'B Mine' written on the admittedly gorgeously crafted card and blushing in a mixture of shyness and happiness. "A pun on my nickname? You even drew little bats."

Clark scratches his head and chuckles nervously, "I-I know it's cheesy bu-"

"I'll be your Valentine!"

Clark gasps softly and finally makes eye contact with Bruce, delighting in the pink blush spreading across his face and down to the elegant neck, the blush intensifying at Clark's intense stare. It's at the other man's silence that Bruce repeats himself.

"I-I said I'll be your Valentine...so come and make breakfast with us?"

Deep blue eyes adoringly stare at the endearing human being before him. Clark realizing that Alfred's right as he concedes under the hypnotizing ice blue eyes and the small tug on his cape, the man super speeding into his regular everyday clothes and coming back with a wide smile as he prepares himself for a breakfast with the Wayne's.

They all really would do anything for Bruce's happiness...even if that means sacrificing your safety for a day with your Valentine and his gremlin family.

(I don't know how or why I basically wrote a whole fanfiction for you all? It was supposed to be something shorter...but I obviously got carried away XD. Happy Valentine's Day everyone and I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and has a lovely day, week, month and year.

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[louloulemons-posts]

Oil At The Coffee Shop XII

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie and Reader go on a date.

Word Count : 2k

Warnings : not proofread, FLUFFFFFFF, it’s sickeningly sweet, talks about eddies mom, cute uncle wayne, some swears.

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You loved him. Shit you loved him. You and Eddie had been officially dating for just over a month now. The month of December rolling around a lot quicker than you hoped.

The first snow had fallen a few days back and people slid down the street to hide in the warmth of your shop. You’d never made so much hot cocoa in your life.

Christmas shopping was also something you had been struggling with, what do you buy for Eddie? You’d give him the whole world if you could. Sadly that was unrealistic.

You saw him almost every day now, and you loved that company. You saw him most days before you started dating, but this was another level, it’s like your heart hurt when he wasn’t around.

You had decided you’d head home for a few days, shutting the shop on December 23rd and opening back up on January 2nd. It was almost two weeks, but in all honesty you needed the break.

Your regulars had already been informed and happily smiled and said they’d miss the good company. Nobody was mad, like you’d worried they would be.

“Hey, you okay?” Max asked.

“Oh yeah Honey I’m fine, just lost in thought. What do you need?”

“I was just wondering if I could take a break, I know I’ve had my lunch it’s just the cold and my legs-“ she rambled.

“Max,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, “It’s okay, go rest. I’ll drive you home tonight, the both of you.”

She smiled at you, going to rest her knees for a little while. You knew it was bad, she hated asking for anything, so if she had too - god that poor girl.

Walking to the counter, you smiled at El as she served someone, wishing them a good day. “Everything okay out here?”

“Mhm, it’s been a bit slow today.”

“Well it’s cold out, and people love the snow.”

“Not me, well it’s pretty but I’d prefer to be inside and wrapped in a blanket.” You laughed, looking around the shop, it was only half an hour until closing time. “You know what, let’s close up. I can’t see us getting anymore customers today.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’s a snow day. Max isn’t feeling great. No point wasting power. Let’s get you two home.”

You and El cleaned up as quickly as you could, she was right it’d been slow today, but that was okay. “What are you guys doing?” Max asked, limping slightly.

“Cleaning, now you Honey, sit,” you said, helping her on to a comfy couch, lifting her legs so she could rest fully. There wasn’t much mess so you were out in 30 minutes time.

“Come on then, let’s get you home.” The pair climbed into the car and you went on your way. It wasn’t a long drive to the two girls homes, you helped Max out of the car and spoke to her mother briefly.

She was unwell herself at one point, but Max said as soon as she was hurt she stepped up. Got better, took care of her, not the other way round.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Driving through town you smiled when you destination came into sight. Munsons Mechanics. Parking up and climbing out, Wayne greeted you.

“Hey Honey! How’s it going?” he smiled.

“Good thank you Wayne, is Eds around?”

“Just doing some paperwork up in the office.”

“Do you mind if I?”

“Oh course not Honey, you go straight through. Come visit again soon.”

“Only if you make me sweet tea,” you teased. “You got it.”

Making your way to the office, your knuckles tapped on the door a couple times. “Come in,” Eddie called. Walking in you smiled at the sight, Eddies overalls were tied around his waist. His thick curls pulled back in bun - a hairstyle that you’d come to adore.

There were bits of oil on his face and hands which made you chuckle. “You busy?” you asked, as he hadn’t looked up. His face was covered with a grin at that point, “Well hello.”

“Hi there.” Eddie pushed himself up and walked to you, hands coming to rest on your waist. “Are you alright Swe-hmph,” you cut him off, connecting your lips to his.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him closer, you took control of the kiss, leaving Eddie speechless. “What time do you get off?” you asked, almost a whisper.

“Uh … umm,” he looked down at his watch, face flushing, “anytime now, just have to finish this paperwork for a client, why?”

“Did you want to go out, like a date?”

“You’re asking me out?” he smirked.

“Yes I am Mr Munson, so what do you say? Go on a date with me?”

“Course, can I clean up first?”

“Mhm, there’s no rush.” You kissed his cheek and went to chat with Wayne whilst Eddie finished up the paperwork.

Soon enough he had run down the stairs to meet you, finding you laughing with Wayne. “You stealing my girl old man?” he joked.

“Oh hush,” his uncle rolled his eyes.

“You ready?” you asked Eddie.

“Whenever you are.”

“Wayne you coming home now?”

“Nah, going for a drink with Phil. I’ll be home later, you?”

“Not sure yet, but I’ll call.”

“Okay son, you kids have fun.” You kissed the older man on the cheek, taking Eddies hand and walking to your car.

“So do I get to know what this date is?” he asked. “Nope,” you popped the ‘p’, smirking at him. “Oh you tease.”

“Says you.”

“We both know you love my teasing.”

You face flushed at that, you both loved and hated it at times and Eddie was very well aware of that. The pair of you headed in to the trailer, Eddie running to wash up and you lay on his bed.

You hadn’t even realised how relax you were until Eddies voice woke you up, “You comfy there Sweetheart?”

“Mhm, we should spend some nights here, it’s so soft.”

“If you want to do that we can,” he leant down to peck your cheek whilst your eyes were still closed.

Peaking a look at your boyfriend, you watched as he climbed out of his overalls, and slid off his shirt. “Hey!” he called out as he saw your peeking eyes. He threw the shirt in your face making you giggle.

“I wasn’t doing anything!”

“Of course you weren’t.”

“What can I say, it’s a nice view.”

“You dirty little thing.” You simply shrugged, not denying it, he was beautiful. You could look at him for hours.

“Come on you, let’s go,” Eddie pulled you up from the bed, pecking your lips, leading you out of the trailer. “Sooo can you tell me where we’re going?”

“Not a chance.”

“Aww why not?” Eddie whined.

“Because it’s a surprise,” you laughed at his pouting face. “You’re horrible to me.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“Watch it,” he growled.

“Sorry sorry.”

“Mhm, little tease.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The drive didn’t take too long, and Eddie became more and more confused. You’d had to drive out of the main town, coming across a whole bunch of other cars and people who all looked very excited.

“Am I getting initiated into a cult? I know people think I’m already in one, but I don’t know if I want to make it the truth,” he said.

“Oh shush, just trust me.”

Parking up you leaned over and pecked his cheek, “Let’s go,” you smiled.

“It’s a good thing I like you so much,” he sighed. “Come on Munson, let’s go!”

“Yeah I’m coming,” he laughed at your eagerness. Going to your trunk you pulled out a black scarf, hanging it around the boys next. “Uh what’s this for?”

“Keep you warm, you really need a winter coat.”

“I have one.”

“A leather jacket doesn’t count.”

“I don’t get cold.”

“Mhm sure, tell your icy cold feet that at 3am.”

“I said sorry!”

“I know I know. Now come on.”

Your gloved hands held his bare ones and you dragged him in the direction that the other people left. The further you walked the more fairy lights were hung up in the trees.

Soon enough Eddie could see what you were here to do. He breathed out, “Ice skating.”

“Yeah, well you mentioned it and then a lady at the shop said her granddaughter was coming here with her friends.”

The curly haired man smiled at you, leaning down and pecking your lips. “Good surprise?”

“Great surprise. I did tell you I haven’t done this in years though so I doubt I’ll be much good.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Tell me about your mom,” you whispered, lay on Eddies bare chest, drawing patterns on his skin. “She was wonderful, kind, beautiful.

“She really loved me, put people above herself even when she got sick. She was the one who encouraged me to play guitar, made me fall in love with Lord of The Rings. She made me who I am.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She was. You know when the lake by our old house used to get cold enough it’d freeze over. She used to take me out skating, we’d spend all day out there. It’s one of my best memories with her, just sliding around and laughing.

“I miss her.” You kissed his chest, leaning up to look at his face. “She’d be so proud of the man you’ve become, so proud of how strong and kind you are.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“I’ve never been, so let’s hope we go home in one piece,” you laughed. The pair of you walked hand in hand to grab skates, handing over your shoes and taking a number so you could take them back later.

Sat on a bench Eddie knelt down to help you with your laces, “There we go,” he said, squeezing your ankle, lovingly. “You ready gorgeous?”

“Let’s go Sweetheart.”

Hand in hand you went to the ice, sliding on, the feeling underneath your feet wasn’t what you’d expected. Eddie seemed to get the hand of it quickly, “I thought you said you hadn’t done this in years!”

“What can I say Sweetheart I’m a natural,” he laughed, taking both of your hands and leading you on the ice. People were here with their families, friends, all smiling, even those who’d slipped over.

You slowly became more confident, allowing Eddie to let go of one of your hands. “There you go Sweetheart, you’re a pro!” he praised, the pair of you gaining some speed.

A younger couple were doing some tricks in the middle of the ice, spinning quickly, dancing together. “We should try,” Eddie motioned to them.

“No no no,” you laughed.

“Why not?”

“Eddie come on.” He gave you a grin, reaching out for you, but you were too quick. Skating away from him, squealing as you went with Eddie close behind.

Sadly you weren’t great at skating so couldn’t get far, before he wrapped his arm around you waist. Unluckily for Eddie he lost his footing, making him slip onto his ass. You following straight behind.

Pushing up off him, you made eye contact, the pair of you bursting into a laughter that came from your stomach. Smiling, covered with a rosy flush, Eddie reached out for your face.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he spoke, so gently, you barely heard him. “Eds-”

“I love you.”

Your eyes went wide, “W-what?” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry,” he said quickly, as if he hasn’t meant to say the previous ones. “No no! Please don’t apologise. Do you um .. do you mean it?”

“Do I mean it?” he scoffed, “Sweetheart I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you, I was so scared of it I tried to push you away!”

“You love me,” you smiled.

“I do, I love you.”

“I love you too Eddie.”

You lips brushed against one another, giving each other sweet but passionate kisses. “As much as I love you Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure my ass is freezing to the ice.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : this genuinely may be my favourite part of this whole fic, it just made my heart so happy 🫶🏻

Thank you so much for reading 🤍

Taglist :

@corrodedseraphine @flawiette @witchwolflea @emxxblog @plk-18 @vintagehellfire @lma1986 @squidscottjeans @eddiesguitarskills @nanas-lasagna @halialex1119 @goth-cowgirl-03 @corrodedcoffincumslut @micheledawn1975

[bellysoupset]

I’d love a story with sick Angie (it doesn’t matter what it is) with the emphasis on Jonah as her caretaker. And I’d love it if you could write about what Jon said in that vertigo fic, were Luke was the only caretaker, about feeling like he doesn’t know Angie.

Hi there! I had a lot of fun typing this up, it's a bit more tender than my usual stuff, since Jonah's is slightly off his element!

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

There were things Jonah knew how to do: read Leo like a book, feel Wendy’s annoyance from across a room, suture a wound with an eye closed. And then there were things that he didn’t… 

Currently the issue was understanding what was going through his little sister’s mind. 

It hurt to say out loud, but Angie was half family, half stranger. She had been only ten when Jonah left for college, however during five of those ten years they supposedly shared, he had been away in boarding school, coming home only three times a year. In sum, he had truly known Angie only for five of her seventeen years. 

It had been a pleasant surprise to learn she didn’t think of him as some stranger, but as her brother, and that she wanted them to be close. Or, as Leo had put, “Jon, she worships you.”

Since Christmas last year, they had been chatting much more frequently and she had come over to Welton at the end of January, staying over at Jonah and Leo’s place for three days. 

This time around she was supposed to stay all week, which Jon was equally nervous and excited about. 

“I’m the one who should be nervous,” Leo had joked as they drove to pick Angie up at the airport, “not you.” 

However Jonah was nervous, because despite never wanting to say this out loud — and not needing to, Leo knew it already — he was terribly invested into making this new relationship work out. 

Normally Angelina was a bubbly, chatty teenager, never quite managing to contain her excitement. During her last visit, she had pestered JD so much that the cat had all but vanished during her last day over, hiding in Leo’s side of the closet. 

Tonight she was sullen and Jonah was nearly crawling up the wall trying to figure out what had changed. 

After picking her up at the airport, they had opted for having dinner in Portland instead of doing the full one hour and a half drive back to Welton without eating. Dinner had gone smoothly, Angie was a little quieter than usual, but Jonah had jolted this as her giving Leo time to gush about the proposal, something she seemed very interested in. Her whole face had lit up as she saw the engagement ring and she had pushed her chair closer in order to inspect it, pulling Leo into a hug that had the blonde’s face turning beet red, much to Jon’s amusement. 

The drive back had been even more quiet. 

“Why don’t you connect your phone with the radio, Angie?” Leo asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was mortified of getting carsick in front of his future sister-in-law, so he had insisted on driving both ways, “pick some music for the ride.”

“No, it’s fine…” Angelina answered, curling up on the backseat, “I think I’m just gonna nap, if you don’t mind…” 

“No, that’s alright,” Jonah turned on the passenger seat, “there must be a neck pillow stuffed behind my seat, is it there?”

“Yeah,” she retrieved it and kicked off her sneakers, spreading out in the back, “thanks, Jon.” 

He turned back to face the road. Something was off and he wasn’t sure what. 

“Relax,” Leo poked his side, a couple minutes later, whispering, “chill.”

“I am chill,” Jonah lied, not putting any effort behind it and once again looking over his shoulder, to where his sister had curled up in the backseat. 

They got home without a hitch, Leo had put on one of his ultra romantic songs and was drumming along with Michael Bolton’s Missing You Now, much to Jonah’s eternal amusement. His fiance couldn’t keep up with the beat if they paid him. 

“Baby I just can't wait! Till I see your face,” Leo leaned in to sing to him, as they parked, a cheeky smile on his face, “chase awaaay this loneliness insideee!” 

Jonah snorted, shutting him up with a kiss, “oh God, shut up, Leo,” his cheeks heated up as the song ended and the initial lyrics of the When A Man Loves a Woman started playing, Leo getting ready to serenade him, pointing at Jon’s chest as he said, “When a man loves a woman. Can't keep his mind on nothin'else-”

“Leeeeo,” Jonah groaned, pushing his door open, but not getting out. Instead he turned on his seat to shake Angelina awake. He half expected her to be awake and giggling at the whisper concert Leo was making, but no, she was still sleeping soundly, “Angie. Angie, we’re here.” 

It took him shaking her once more, before she woke up, looking completely lost for a minute.

“Where-”

“Let’s go inside so you can sleep in a proper bed,” Jonah circled the car, helping her out and raised his eyebrows, letting out a surprised noise when Angie collapsed against him and made no movement to pull away. He hesitantly lowered his arms around her in a makeshift hug, unsure of what to do. 

Leo grinned at him, getting out of the car as well and going to retrieve Angie’s bags. 

She barely let go of him, putting only enough distance that they were able to walk to the elevator, but snuggled back once they were inside. Jonah felt like his face was tingling and he couldn’t bring himself to meet Leo’s eyes, extremely embarrassed. 

This time around, Angelina paid no mind to JD. The cat came running to greet them at the door, only to stop once she saw the girl and sniffling her suspiciously, serpentining between Angie’s legs and settling for meowing at Leo’s feet as if asking who this was. 

Jonah fully expected his sister to grab JD like she had done last time, but instead she only yawned and waited patiently as he guided her to the guest room. 

“You know where’s everything, right?” Jonah hung awkwardly at the door, once Leo put the bag inside and Angie sat down on the bed. She yawned again, nodding. 

“Yeah…”

“There’s extra towels in the bathroom if you feel like taking a shower,” Jonah grimaced at his inability to sound as warm as he was supposed to, “and you don’t have to ask to go through the fridge…”

“I’m fine, Jon, thank you,” Angelina dismissed him easily, “I think I’m just gonna sleep, though.”

“Okay…” he glanced at the television, “there’s Netflix and Prime and Max-”

“Jon,” Leo grabbed his elbow, chuckling, “let the girl sleep. Goodnight Ange.”

“Goodnight,” Angie smiled at them, clearly agreeing with Leo and Jonah sighed, relenting and allowing the blonde to pull him out of the guest bedroom. 

“It’s only nine o’clock,” Jonah complained as they entered their own bedroom, Leo already ahead of him in the bathroom, stripping for a shower. They were both still in work clothes, “what type of teenager falls asleep at nine?”

“Your sister’s type,” Leo shrugged, getting under the shower stream, “relax Jon, she’s probably just tired after the flight.”

Jonah didn’t quite believe that. 

They ended up going to bed around eleven, so Jon was surprised when he woke up at only 6 AM, an hour before his alarm. He wasn’t sure why he was up. It was a Thursday, which meant Leo had court and would start working later, but would also be held up until whatever hour. The blonde was passed out next to him, head buried in the pillow. 

Jon’s shift only started at 9… 

He yawned, rubbing a hand over his face and getting up to pee. He was getting back in bed, when a noise down the hall caught his attention. Something falling?

It wasn’t JD, because the cat was happily asleep on Leo’s side. 

Jonah got out of the bed to investigate and wasn’t surprised when he found the guest bedroom door open, or the guest bathroom door closed. He knocked on it softly, “Angie, you alright? I heard something falling…”

“Urgh…” was the pitiful answer he got, “Jon…”

Well, shit. 

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously, biting the skin of his thumb, “Angie?” 

“Hmmm…yeah…” 

Jonah didn’t wait for an answer and pushed the door open. 

Angelina was really skinny with long limbs, like a model, and currently she was folded like an origami project in front of the toilet. Her rich, dark skin looked damn near ashen, and she had a trembling hand on the porcelain, the other pressing to her lips.

“Don’t… I don’t feel good…” 

“Oh darling,” Jonah sighed, feeling a selfish wave of relief wash over him at finally being able to pinpoint what was wrong and that it wasn’t him. He crouched down, “have you been sick yet?”

Angie shook her head, gulping down, “soon…” she leaned in, squeezing her eyes shut, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- To-” she got interrupted by a hiccup and Jonah scoffed, scooting closer so he could rub her back. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s all right,” he cringed as he realized her really long, curly hair was getting near her mouth. They didn’t have a single scrunchie in their place. 

At Bella’s advice, or rather, order, they had stocked the guest bathroom with pads, just in case — that had been an interesting little grocery trip, given neither of them had any idea of what they were doing and Leo looked positively mortified —, but the ginger hadn’t said anything about hair ties.

“Jon-” Angie whined, oblivious to his thoughts and leaning further over the toilet. Another sick hiccup shook her entire frame, this one turning into a gag at the end and Jonah cringed as he saw clear saliva hit the water. 

“You’re okay,” he carefully pulled his sister’s hair back with one hand, the other staying firmly on her back, “just get it up, don’t fight it-”

She retched once more, before getting up to her knees, and burying her head in the bowl as vomit gushed out. The movement was so sudden that Jonah had to move as well, so he wouldn’t pull on her hair. 

He gagged as he heard the horrible noise of his sister bringing up last night’s dinner, his stomach souring considerably as she pulled back, clumsily trying to flush, with vomit clinging to her bottom lip still.

“God-” Jonah pulled back the hand that was on her back, slapping it over his lips and biting down a retch of his own. Angelina let out a little hurt noise, much like JD did when they accidentally tripped on her.

“I’m sorry-” his voice came out husky, “shit, Angie, I’m sorry-”

“You’re sick too?” she managed to flush and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, causing Jonah to gag once more. He shook his head, gulping convulsively to keep his stomach in check.

He was so used to Leo, that someone else puking around him was news to his body. The routine was different, the noises too. Worse.

“No, I just-” Jonah cleared his throat, “I get sympathy sick.”

“Oh,” Angie’s big chocolate eyes were dazed and he suspected she was burning up a fever, “I’m sor-”

“Are you done?” 

“I dunno,” she rubbed her stomach, uneasily, “don’t wanna risk going to bed and- And getting sick…” 

“We can sit on the couch and watch TV,” Jonah offered, getting up to grab her a glass of water and Angie took it with her hands shaking. Jon took advantage of the fact her hands were busy, in order to feel his sister’s forehead. 

Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch or pull back at the sudden touch, leaning completely on it. She was really warm.

“Not a high fever, but a fever,” he pulled back after a second, as Angie gulped down the water and hung over the toilet once more, letting out a sickly burp, “you’ll be okay on your own for a second?”

“Uh-hu,” she nodded, gagging but not bringing up anything. Jonah rushed out before his stomach decided to join the party as well. 

He put together a little nest in the living room, grabbing her a set of blankets and a pillow, a bowl, meds, water and thermometer. After a couple minutes he heard the bathroom flush and the tap running, Angelina brushing her teeth, then she stumbled in the living room. 

“Come lie down,” he pulled her to the couch, unsure of what she liked when sick. To be left alone or dotted on? So far the dotting was proving successful, but Jon was scared at any minute she’d snap at him. Or worse, cry. 

Instead of doing either, Angelina curled up on the little nest he had created for her, tugging on his arm so he’d sit alongside her and then scooting up, resting her pillow half on his leg, “I feel horrible, Jon…”

“I’m sorry, darling,” the nickname slipped out, as he stroked her hair back and Jonah froze for a second, but Angie didn’t seem bothered in the least. In fact, she cuddled up even more, turning on her side and shivering, “I need to take your temperature,” he said, leaning to grab the thermometer and passing it to her. 

He was genuinely surprised by how easy of a patient Angie was, after dealing with Leo and their friends for years now. They were a crew of stubborn people, while his baby sister seemed to be the most docile person ever.

She took the thermometer without complaining and didn’t whine when he fed her medicine, barely paid any attention to the television, seeming content just cuddling and shivering like hell, no matter how many blankets she had. 

“Jon,” Leo woke him up, pressing a kiss to his temple, and Jonah realized he had drifted back to sleep with Angie’s head resting on his lap. It was hard not to feel sleepy when she was a little furnace, “you okay?”

“Uhm?” he rubbed his eyes and frowned. Leo was almost finished dressing for the day, which meant it was nearly 9 already. His tie wasn’t done and Leo was holding a coffee mug. 

“What happened…?” Leo gestured to their current situation and Jonah darted out a hand, so his fiance could help him slip from under Angie without waking her up. The young girl only stirred, grimacing and curling up even more. 

“Woke up with her throwing up at 6 AM,” Jonah whispered, following Leo to the kitchen and sitting by the counter, while the blonde got the coffee maker working, “I’m gonna have to call in sick at work.”

He wasn’t happy about that, Jon was on a quest to not miss any more work days, since he’d take the month off for honeymoon, probably at the end of the year or as soon as they stopped to settle on a bloody date. 

“I’ll do it for you,” Leo planted a mug of coffee in front of him, squeezing Jonah’s shoulder, “should I worry?”

“No,” Jonah yawned, leaning to rest his head on Leo’s shoulder, “she’s alright, it’s just a 24 hour bug.”

“I don’t like this,” Leo sighed, “I’m going to be offline all day, I have no way of knowing-”

“I’m the doctor,” Jonah said smugly, grabbing the blonde’s chin, “I can handle one sick teenager. Relax.”

“Look who’s talking,” Leo smiled at him, rolling his eyes, “text me updates anyway, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Jon’s tone was sassy, but he meant it. He yawned in his fist, pulling Leo closer by his tie and starting to do the knot for him, “you’re gonna be back for dinner?”

“I’ll try to,” Leo wrinkled his nose, “but I doubt. You think she’d like balloons? Popsicles?” 

“She’s seventeen, not five,” Jonah snorted, lifting himself up on his seat enough to kiss him, “bring us something yummy for dessert.”

Once Leo had left, promising he’d not forget to call the hospital to let them know of Jonah's absence, Jon had nothing but time to dedicate to his sister. It was so weird.

He took a shower to get ready for the day and fixed her up with some soup — well, ordered some soup —, then crouched down in front of the couch, pushing a curl away from her forehead, “Angie. Ange,” he shook her gently, “Angelina.”

“Uhhm?” She still had a fever, he could tell. The previous round of meds had lowered it, but not eradicated it, “what time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he helped her sit up, “how’s your tum- stomach?” he was going to kill Leo.

Angie frowned, yawning, “sore. Kinda queasy,” she blushed, “did you say tummy?”

“No,” Jonah scoffed, sitting on the foot of the couch, “I got you some soup, think you can handle it?”

She hesitated, before nodding. Jonah eagerly shot up, he hadn’t been expecting a positive answer, and put everything on a tray, the soup, bread, some water and juice because he didn’t know what she preferred…

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your favorite flavor, so I just ordered mine,” Jon grimaced, settling the tray down on Angie’s lap. 

She squinted at it, “is it pumpkin?” 

“Yeah, and some chia seeds,” Jonah looked away, “Leo hates it, so we have plain tomato soup if you do too-”

“No,” Angelina shook her head, “I like it. My favorite is onion cream, just so you know,” she curled up her feet, in an invitation for him to sit closer and stirred the warm meal, “but I don’t think I could handle it right now.”

“I don’t think so either,” Jonah mentally stashed the information in his growing file of facts about his sister. So far he knew she really loved anything artsy, that she was attracted to Wendy’s colorful clothes and style like a butterfly to a flower, that she adored cats and that she got quiet and withdrawn when sick, “uh- Do you like popsicles…?”

Angie giggled, rolling her eyes, “doesn’t everyone?”

Well shit, he’d have to apologize to Leo.

“I don’t,” Jon shrugged and she frowned, starting to eat very slowly. 

“Are you a robot?” Angelina inspected him up and down, “no type of popsicles?”

“I’m partial to gelato,” Jon shrugged, “or frozen yogurt.”

She shook her head in a tired manner, reaching for the juice instead of the water, “you’re so very weird, Jon…” then she frowned, blinking slowly as if trying to process some information, “don’t you have work today?”

Originally, Angie had planned to visit the museums and the university, that was the guise behind her visit. At least to Jonah it was, he was pretty sure she had openly told Leo she just wanted to visit them. 

“I called in sick,” Jon pointed at her bowl, “staying down?”

“Yeah,” she yawned, “but it’s a lot.”

“You don’t have to eat all of it. Get as much as you want, then we can watch something or you can go back to sleep-”

“Can we go out to the park? With JD?”

He paused, “aren’t you sick?”

“I’m not dying,” Angie pouted, “and I already won’t be able to do everything I had planned so…”

“Yeah, uh- Sure. I don’t know where Leo keeps her leash, he’s the one who walks her, I just- I have to look…” He felt so incredibly out of place, “yeah, lemme go look-”

JD let out an indignant meow at being trapped in her leash and swatted at his hand with all little kitty force, trying to draw blood. Jonah sighed, scratching the kitten behind her ears, “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna take one for the team and be a good kitty.”

The cat didn't feel like being nice and once they got outside, walking to one of the benches since Angie got breathless not even five minutes after they left, JD simply crawled up Jon’s lap and tried to hide in his coat. 

“She’s not outdoorsy at all, is she?” Angie grinned, leaning on his shoulder and trying to pet the animal, JD pointedly ignoring her. Jonah shrugged, leaning back and enjoying the fresh air. 

“She’s a bit of a prick just like me,” he answered truthfully, hissing as he felt JD’s claws sink through his sweater, “she’ll get used to you.”

“I hope so,” Angie sighed, leaning against his side and resting her face on his shoulder, uninvited. She was so… Tactile. Clingy, even. Jonah pressed his cheek to the top of her head, “I hope she’ll grow to love having me around.”

He had the distinct feeling she was no longer talking about the cat. Jonah rolled his eyes, kissing the top of Angie’s head, “I’m certain she will, darling.”

[blurredcolour]

You Left Your Name On My Lips

“It's Not The Prompt. It's The Creator." Challenge

Prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time.”

Summary: A rare professional opportunity reignites painful memories of what seems was never meant to be.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Death in Retrospect, Discussion of Loss and Grief, Discussion of Graves, Military Inaccuracies, Political Inaccuracies, Several References to January 6 Capitol Riots, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Hospital Setting, Brief Discussion of Prosthetics, References to Sad Maverick, Medal Ceremony, Surprise Ending. Rating - T.

Credit: Paramount Pictures

Author's Note: Reader has no gender or physical descriptions. Pronouns are used a few times as they/them. All images contain image descriptions for accessibility. Thank you very much for reading and happy one year anniversary to Top Gun Maverick!

Word Count: 7505

“You left your name on my lips, everyone I meet knows I loved you…” – Katherine Perez (@s.h.e.ispoetry)

The late afternoon thunderstorm broke over West Executive Avenue just as you left the safety of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, hastening your steps into a run while you darted across the street toward the West Wing. As a member of the speech writing staff, you found yourself traversing this route often throughout the workday, but rarely at the direct request of the Deputy Communications Director.

Pressing the notebook in your hand into service as a make-shift umbrella, you hitched your laptop bag higher onto your shoulder and dashed into the building. You took a moment to ensure you looked presentable before signing in with security and heading towards the Communications bullpen. You paused at the corner of Ben Simkin’s desk, waiting for the Assistant to the Deputy Communications Director to finish his phone call so he could tell you how many minutes late your meeting would be.

“Looks like you just beat the rain.” Ben said as the phone rattled home into its cradle. “She’s only five minutes late so you can come right in.” He stood and led you through the open office door.

“Thanks, Ben. Definitely got in here at the right time…” You muttered, watching the deluge cascade against the windowpane.

“I saw you’re on holidays next week, going anywhere exciting?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe to indulge in a moment of friendly conversation.

You had always enjoyed Ben’s personable warmth. Particularly in contrast to the brusque efficiency of Faith Watson, the woman who shared administrative duties for the Communications team. It was always a good day when you got a reply from Ben rather than her.

“Just back to visit the family, they are constantly complaining they don’t see enough of me. I don’t see enough of me…” The pair of you shared a laugh before his line began to ring again and he hurried out to answer it quickly.

A flash of lightning flickered through the dimly lit office, thunder cracking and rumbling promptly in its wake as you settled into one of the chairs across the empty desk. Your thoughts turned back to the possible reasons why you had been summoned here when your eyes skidded to a halt on the file folder resting on the cluttered yet orderly desktop. The three letters scrawled in a black marker sorely in need of an ink refill sucked the moisture from your mouth, making you squirm in your chair uneasily.

MOH

“So sorry to keep you waiting.” Your boss suddenly burst into the room, and you stood quickly as she turned on a few more lights to fight off the gloom of the storm.

“N, not at all. How can I help?” You asked quickly, sitting as she assumed her seat behind the desk and gestured for you to sit as well.

You watched with trepidation as her hand stretched out to land on the very same folder that had evoked such a physical reaction within you just moments before. Shit.

“As you’re well aware, we have a Medal of Honor ceremony coming up this Friday. I’ve just gone through the latest draft of the speech and Michael has done a wonderful job, but it is missing…. something. Some sense of who the Lieutenant Commander was.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously as you tried to take steady breaths, nodding to show that you were listening as you held your notebook on your lap in a ruthless grip.

“It’s my understanding that you knew him?” She tilted her head, eyeing you thoughtfully as you slowly nodded, wondering from exactly where this information had reached her.

“Yes, I did.” You somehow managed to voice.

“I know this is perhaps an impossible ask, but given your talent with words as well as your personal insight, I was hoping you might agree to take a pass at it?” She tented her fingers in front of her lips, assessing your reaction thoughtfully.

There was a reason she was sitting behind that desk. She had just made an incredibly difficult request wrapped within a compliment and tied with the bow of a professional opportunity. And while your initial, visceral reaction was to refuse, the rational and professional part of your brain interceded.

“I would be honored, ma’am.” You nodded, wishing your voice sounded more confident, but still thrilled that you had been able to speak.

“Thank you. I consider this a personal favor and will not forget it.” She glanced back at the rain pelting against the windowpane behind her and frowned. “Why don’t you get Ben to find you somewhere in the West Wing to work on this. A lot of people will have left for the day, and we need to get this finalized as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you, I will get started right away…” You gulped and reached out for the folder, tucking it close against your body as you tried to leave her office at a reasonable pace instead of the headlong flee that was burning to be released from the muscles of your legs. “Ben?” You cleared your throat as your voice came out slightly brittle and shaky. “Do you think you can find me a hole in the wall somewhere in this building?”

He raised an eyebrow before turning to his computer, clicking around. You raised your own eyes to the ceiling above you, calling upon whatever higher beings you could think of to grant you strength and patience.

“Follow me.” He said at last, though in truth it had been a sum total of forty-five seconds, before he led you through a maze of corridors and down a set of stairs into a plain office. “Usually held in reserve for the Deputy Chief of Staff’s Office…they are clearly not using it right now…You ok?” He eyed you skeptically and you swallowed tightly, offering a nod and a tight smile.

“Just in for a late night is all.” You clarified.

“Well, the kitchen is open for another two hours so maybe get some food now.” He advised. “Or you’ll be eating a hot dog on the corner, and you’ll never find this room again.”

The laugh that his comment pulled from you brought with it faint relief from the tension you had been carrying since your meeting and you nodded, setting your things on the dated wooden desk.

“Thank you, Ben. Have a good night.”

The door shut behind him with a careful click as you went about setting up your laptop, connecting to the network, and settling into the questionably supportive chair before at last you had no choice but to turn your attention to the file folder you had been dutifully ignoring. As you loaded the word processing file of the speech from your email, you tugged the packet closer. Opening it slowly revealed a copy of the medal citation and other documents pertaining to the ceremony on the left side, while the redacted Naval personnel file of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw lay on the right.

With unsteady fingers, you moved to lift the personnel file before suddenly losing your nerve, curling your fingers back into a fist and turning instead to read over the medal citation.

The words blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors behind the tears that flooded your eyes, refusing to be blinked away any longer. Everything had changed that day, just over a year ago, when Bradley Bradshaw had sacrificed his life to save everyone on board the aircraft carrier upon which he had been serving. You had found out a week later, along with the rest of the world, when the news broke on CNN. Truthfully, as his ex, you had not been entitled to anything more.

The cold hard truth that your relationship, ended by mutual decision in the late fall of 2020, was well over, had not made his death any easier to bear. It had, rather, clarified a fact you had been desperately trying to deny – you were still very much in love with the man and ending your relationship based on your diverging career paths and the 2,500 miles between you had been the worst mistake of your life. And now he was never going to come home.

Slumping over the back of the chair, you sealed your palm over your mouth as the sobs rose in your throat, unbidden yet unstoppable. Hot tears spilled from your eyes, scorching their way up along your temples as each exhale wracked your body with grief that remained as raw and unresolved one year on. His absence from this earth had created a jagged chasm in the pit of your stomach – one that refused to be filled or covered over no matter how hard you worked or what failed relationships you had pursued.

Grounding yourself by digging your heels into aggregate flooring and sinking the nails of your free hand into the distressed wood on the underside of the desktop, you managed to slow your breaths. To cram the agony of your grief back into its cage beneath your breastbone, leaving you an exhausted wreck in the gathering dark of your borrowed, subterranean office. You searched through your laptop bag, hoping you might have saved some napkins from that last time you’d eaten out, but you were disappointed to find nothing more than a few pens.

Seriously considering wiping your face on your shirtsleeves, you looked up startled at the knock on the door before Ben’s face appeared through the small gap as he opened it. He tutted gently as he took in your barely recovered composure.

“I thought as much.” He murmured gently before sliding into the room with a box of tissues, a tray of drinks, and two takeout containers.

“Ben…you are a saint…” You croaked and paused, not sure which of the items he set on the desk you wanted the most before ultimately settling on the tissues.

Turning slightly in your chair, you made quick work of mopping your face and blowing your nose as discreetly as possible in the small space afforded in the office. After discarding the used tissues, your next priority was a cold beverage, sighing deeply after you took your first sip.

“You even got my favourite.”

He grinned proudly, snacking on French fry from his meal, having settled into the only other chair in the room.

“I could just tell…”

“A saint, Ben.” You reaffirmed before carefully tucking into the meal he had procured for you.

A few bites in you remembered yourself and quickly fished out your phone, sending him a funds transfer for the food.

“Oh, that wasn’t…” He muttered after he checked the resulting notification on his phone. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You sniffed thoughtfully, swallowing your bite as you shook your head.

“I’m not, but I still really appreciate this, Ben.”

“So, you didn’t…just know him did you…” He asked hesitantly and you paused with a bite of food raised to your lips before taking the food into your mouth and shaking your head again.

“No Ben,” You clarified after swallowed. “I was very much in love with Bradley Bradshaw. Still am I suppose, even though he’s…gone…” The final word of your sentence seemed to catch in your throat reluctantly, and you coughed a little to force it out.

Ben frowned deeply and looked over the folder laying open on the desk.

“I’ll talk to her, there’s no way she can ask this of you…”

“No! No, I…I agreed to do it, it’s an opportunity to touch a Presidential speech directly and independently. I don’t get those very often Ben. And I. It’s something I can do for him, one last time.” Your throat constricted again ominously so you nodded, hoping that sufficiently rounded out the thought you were trying to communicate.

Ben inhaled deeply, holding his breath in inflated cheeks, before exhaling it through pursed lips as he nodded.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He tilted his head.

“This,” you gestured at your nearly completed meal, “has already helped more than I can say. Thank you.”

His soft smile was a balm to your aching heart – by no means a cure, but it had a soothing effect.

“Did you want to talk about him?”

“I don’t think. I don’t think that I can quite yet, Ben. Maybe someday? I’d like to…someday….”

“When you’re ready then.” He stood to collect the remnants of your meal, moving toward the door. “Are you alright if I head home?”

“Please do! You really didn’t have to stay for me. But thank you.” You nodded and he smiled warmly before stepping out, leaving you to the quiet of the office.

Taking a few deep breaths, you put some background music on your phone to help you focus on the task at hand before pulling up the speech to review what had been written thus far. The Deputy Director had not been wrong, there was a dimension missing. Typically, interviews were conducted with the honoree’s family, but Bradley had no close family left to speak for him. You knew that one of the main reasons he had chosen to stay out in California, rather than returning to Virginia, had been to reconnect with Maverick – Captain Mitchell, but he did not seem to be a man of many words.

At least he had not been that night when he showed up at your apartment door bearing a handwritten letter from Bradley. It had taken him several weeks to track you down; your personal details including phone number and address were unlisted for your safety and security. Working in politics had taken on an entirely different level of risk after January 6, 2021, but even before that you had made the choice to be as difficult to find as possible.

He had not had much to say as he stood there in his dress blues, other than to confirm your name and give you his condolences. He had delivered some prescribed line about Bradley’s bravery before disappearing down the stairs of your building, leaving you with the worn envelope, your name scrawled on the front in Bradley’s handwriting.

Shaking your head to physically clear the thoughts from your mind, you turned your focus back to the cursor in your word document, blinking at you expectantly, before beginning to type out an additional paragraph.

Words fall utterly short when we try to describe who someone was. We must look to their deeds. The words “Reckless disregard for personal safety” in his citation are striking. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw had a history of fearless determination. He was unafraid of pursuing his goals despite any obstacles in his path, and twenty-two-months prior to the events of July 2022 was fully prepared to lay down his life for his superior officer.

“He even risked disciplinary action to call his ex from work during the Capitol Riots of January 6…” You sniffled aloud, shaking your head fondly.

You had been working for a prominent Senator during that time, doing some paperwork when the crowd infiltrated the Capitol building. Alone in the office, the rest of your colleagues in the chamber staffing the Senator, you had been frozen by panic and uncertainty. The unexpected vibration of your cellphone on your desk had been jarring, particularly when Bradley’s name accompanied it on the screen.

You had taken the call, whispering beneath the Senator’s desk, and he had talked you through barricading the door, through making the office appear unoccupied. You had heard someone begin to reprimand him on his end of the line, but he had continued to speak to you calmly, reassuringly.

“You’re going to be alright, just keep low, keep quiet, and keep that umbrella in your hands, ok?”

“O…k…ok Bradley.” You had whispered, not sounding nearly as sure as he had.

“I have to go now…” He had apologized gently.

“You’re damn right you do, Lieutenant Commander!” You had heard the sharp bark of his superior much closer this time.

“Thank you!” You had risked a little more volume to give him your emphatic gratitude before ending the call, feeling somewhat more prepared to deal with whatever might come down the hall.

It was the last time you had spoken to him.

You realized now that you should have called him back, but at that the time life had been moving so fast. As soon as the building was made safe, the voting had resumed. And then the transition team had called offering a position on the speech writing staff in the White House. The whirlwind of activity had been shifted into a higher gear of intensity at that point until the next time you looked up was to watch the report of his death on CNN.

Filled with a sudden curiosity, you turned to his personnel file, gnawing on your lower lip as you leafed through the papers contained within. You let out a gasp when you came across the notation that a nonpunitive letter of caution was delivered to him on January 7, 2021. While the contents of these letters were typically private, it was not hard to guess just what message Bradley’s superior officer had delivered to him.

“Oh Bradley…” You sighed fondly, shaking your head before turning back to your keyboard with renewed inspiration.

After two hours of writing, shaping, and polishing, you felt confident enough to submit your version of the speech to the Deputy Director. Sending the email, you carefully packed up your laptop before tucking the contents of the Bradley’s personnel file and citation back into the ceremony folder with a quiet reverence.

Stopping by her office, you were not surprised to see her still there working away. You dropped off the folder and wished her a good night. The rain had let up during your time working underground, leaving a blissfully cool evening, free of the usual summer humidity. Due to the late hour, public transit was quieter on your commute home, and your street almost tranquil. Dropping your keys and bills from your mailbox on the kitchen counter, you found your steps leading you to your bedside table of their own volition, filled with a desire to reread Bradley’s last words to you.

You sat on the edge of you bed, turning on the lamp there, and fished the worn envelope out from the bottom of the drawer. Carefully unfolding the familiar creases, you traced your eyes along his slanting penmanship.

Tilting your head back to prevent any stray tears from soiling the paper, the idea to laminate the pages to preserve them flitted through your mind once again. And yet the idea of putting a barrier between you and his words remained so off-putting that you shook you head. You carefully tucked it away for next time, dragging your tired mind and body to the shower.

The final draft of the speech was presented at the Communications team meeting the next afternoon, accompanied by your heart hammering beneath your ribs and a knowing grin from the Deputy Director. It was your version, untouched from the night before. There was no formal announcement, no by-line, but the people who needed to know, knew the authors of that speech. And you were indisputably one of them. As you were making your way out of the room, your boss stopped you, extending an invitation to the ceremony on Friday.

“I recognize it might be difficult…” She stated, giving you an out, but you took a breath to steel your resolve and shook your head.

“I’d be honored to attend, thank you.”

“Wonderful, I’ll have Ben set it up in your calendar.” She smiled before excusing herself to answer a call on her cell.

The building was a flurry of activity the day of the ceremony. The sheer extent of it – uniformed personnel and staff rushing through the lobby, the buzz of conversation – set your teeth on edge as you stepped into the West Wing that morning. Rather than making your way directly to your meeting, you decided to stop by Ben’s desk as he had an innate talent for picking up on the root cause of chaos as this seemed far beyond the usual for this type of occasion.

As you entered the Communications bullpen, his eyes widened when they met yours and he hardly seemed aware of the phone receiver pressed to his ear, belatedly uttering an apology before ending the call. He glanced around before lurching to his feet and grasping your elbow, pulling you into the notably empty Deputy Director’s office.

“You should sit.” He said with no preamble.

“Good morning, Ben, it’s lovely to see you too. I had a good sleep thank you for asking.” You greeted him with plenty of sass and a raised eyebrow.

You were already feeling snappish this morning, nerves frayed by excess emotion, and whatever sudden onslaught of chivalry he was experiencing was unwelcome.

“I’m sorry. The ceremony today has been postponed indefinitely.” He frowned, gesturing at one of the empty chairs hopefully but you shook your head as your stomach sank.

“Indefinitely? I don’t understand. These things don’t get postponed, they are thoroughly researched and perfected and…what on earth happened?!” You realized your volume had gradually increased to reach something akin to a shout as he winced, and you frowned. “Sorry…”

“You’re not going to sit, are you…” He sighed and you shook your head impatiently.

“Ben…” You said warningly.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw has been located alive in Kuwait and was air lifted to hospital in Germany during the night.”

You realized that Ben’s lips continued moving after the word ‘alive’, but your ears were filled with a dull buzzing. All of the blood in your body felt as though it seeped out of the soles of your feet into the plush office carpet, and you crumpled to the floor.

The bright glare of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and Ben’s frantic face greeted your return to consciousness and you hissed at the pain in your right cheek, reaching a hand up to find a tender spot. Your fingers came away smeared faintly with blood.

“You clipped the corner of the desk on the way down…are you ok?!” He looked you over quickly, finding a tissue to press against your cut.

“I think…I think so. Ben. Repeat what you said…” You looked to him, terrified to be optimistic.

“He’s alive.” He could barely contain his grin, squeezing your shoulders as he punctuated the statement with your name. “He’s alive, after all this time, he was hiding somewhere and…I don’t have all the details yet, but…they obviously want to put the medal around his neck once they get him home.” He looked around suddenly. “But you! You should call in sick right now and buy a ticket to Germany. Go. Go to him.”

Your eyes whirled around the room, trying to find something to focus on to help you process the fact that man you had just help eulogize in a Presidential speech had in fact survived his act of reckless disregard for personal safety. Ben pulled the tissue away from your cheek and your eyes were drawn to the bright red contrasting sharply against the white between his fingers. Everything seemed to crystalize in your mind, and you looked to him quickly.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned wider. “I’ll start texting you flights, get out of here.” He quickly slapped a bandage onto your cheek from the nearby first aid kit before shooing you out of the office.

You darted back to your desk, leaving your sick message on the Deputy Director’s voicemail and texting Ben that you had done so. He replied that it was duly entered into the attendance log and then spammed your phone with flight deals. You got home, throwing together a suitcase and grabbing your passport within an hour, flight booked to leave in three hours. Turning around quickly, you changed out of your suit into something more appropriate for a long-haul flight, before heading to the airport.

Six hours later, you found yourself pushing long-cooled airplane food around its sectioned tray as your eyes stared unseeing at the movie on the screen in the back of the headrest in front of you. Your mind was too busy mulling over the improbability, the impossibility, of it all to focus on the film you had chosen to distract yourself, the meal you had chosen from the options on the flight attendant’s cart.

How, in this era of hyper-interconnectedness, had a Bradley gone unfound for over a year? You knew from his citation that his was the only American plane in the air at the time, from the investigation records that they only had radar and radio communications to rely upon to detail the events before his plane crashed. Courtesy of those same records, you knew a covert operation had been undertaken to examine the crash site in enemy territory. That some form of remains had been recovered, identified, and buried in Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego.

Yet the postponement of a Medal of Honor ceremony was unprecedented. It would not have occurred on the basis of mere speculation or rumor. Ben’s report that Bradley was alive must be true, but how it was possible was entirely beyond your comprehension.

Landing in Frankfurt at five thirty in the morning local time, you were then faced with nearly three hours of public transportation before you finally arrived at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. You had barely slept or eaten, but Ben’s bandage was still securely in place on your cheek. At least that was something in your favour.

After all you had overcome to arrive at the nursing station in Germany, you had not expected to be thwarted by a dour-faced Army sergeant.

“Are you family?”

“Well, no, not exactly but I…”

“Authorized personnel and family only.” He replied firmly, looking down his hawkish nose at you and you frowned down at the flecked pattern on the worn laminate countertop.

“Add them to the list, they are family.” A voice interceded from the other side of the l-shaped desk, and you lifted your eyes quickly to see Captain Mitchell standing there. “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw will want to see them.”

He looked younger than the last time you had seen him. As though the weight of the entire Navy had been lifted off his shoulders. There was, perhaps, even the trace of a smile in his eyes as he nodded for you to hand over your passport so the long-suffering sergeant could add you to the list of approved visitors.

“His room is this way, come on.” He tilted his head toward the wide, sterile hallway and you found your feet rooted to the spot, unable to take another step after flying thousands of miles on the word of your colleague. “Truly. He will want to see you.” Captain Mitchell assured you and, swallowing roughly, you found the will to propel your body into motion once more.

Captain Mitchell stepped into the room first and you carefully set your luggage in one of the chairs by the door, inhaling sharply as you heard a voice you thought had been silenced forever.

“Heya Mav, thought you were going for coffee…” Bradley rasped.

“Found something better on the way…” He turned to the side to reveal you, standing there like a deer in headlights, staring at a very alive Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw.

He was thinner than the last time you had seen him, having endured who knows what hardships in the name of survival over the past twelve months. His normally tan skin had lost its glow too, most likely from the necessity of hiding, and his customarily trimmed moustache had expanded down his cheeks and jaw into a full beard. Lack of sunlight had kept his chestnut hair dark as well, grown long in luscious waves. Yet he was still unmistakably the man that kept a firm hold over your heart, long frame barely fitting on the bed, propped up in a sitting position beneath a white and blue flannel hospital sheet.

Your name fell from his lips in a whisper, and he looked quickly between you and Captain Mitchell.

“You sure I’m not dead?”

Blinking rapidly as tears threatened to flood your vision, you and Captain Mitchell shook your heads at the same time.

“No Rooster, you’re definitely alive, they’re definitely here, and I’m definitely going for that coffee now.” Captain Mitchell excused himself and you walked over to the hospital bed slowly, trying to remember how to breathe. In and then out.

You did not need to faint again, especially not in front of Bradley.

“Hi…” You said quietly, feeling suddenly shy. Even draped over a hospital bed after a year of being declared dead Bradley was still the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes upon. Even with a full beard. Perhaps especially…

He held out his hand to you and you quickly took it between both of yours, sighing softly at the reassuring warmth of his skin as he guided you even closer to his bedside. With his free hand, he reached up to run his fingers along the bandage across your cheek.

“What happened?” He frowned.

You huffed a self-deprecating laugh and shook your head.

“Close encounter with a desk while fainting.” You muttered. “Are you ok?”

“You fainted? When?” He looked you over, concern knitting his brows tighter.

Typical Bradley, ignoring any concern you might have for him. Unchanged in the least.

“About…fourteen hours ago, I suppose?” You grimaced.

“Because of me.” He said flatly and you conceded with a nod. “I’m sorry…”

“Please…Don’t apologize, it was the best news. I…I just happened to fold like a deck chair.”

His lips twitched into a grin which you echoed happily.

“Such a softie.” He teased.

“I’ll have you know I fought off the QAnon Shaman with that umbrella, thank you.” You boasted playfully.

He squinted at you quizzically and you registered that perhaps he was not quite well enough for that level of humor.

“Not really, I was removed to a safe room shortly after our call. Thank you again Bradley. Thank you for taking the time to write me that letter, as well. For asking Captain Mitchell to bring it to me. It meant a lot.” Your voice trembled, betraying your heightened emotions.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I was such a moron and never said any of those things to you until I thought I was going to die.”

Shaking your head quickly you lifted his hand, still clasped between yours, and kissed the tips of his fingers.

“I’m just as guilty…I mean I technically haven’t even apologized to you in return. I wrote you a letter in reply, but I left it in San Diego...at…” You trailed off not wanting to discuss the gravesite you had visited. “I love you. I never stopped and I’m sorry I was also so stupid…” Your voice wavered with emotion as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

“I love you, too.” He murmured and shifted his hand between yours to lace your fingers together tightly. “There was never a pair of idiots better suited for each other.”

You laughed tearfully, wiping at your eyes with the cuff of your sleeve and shaking your head.

“Never.” You agreed. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?” You asked, looking around the anonymous, off-white room filled with the typical hospital equipment. It could have been located anywhere in the world, for how similar it looked to every hospital room you had ever had the misfortune to see.

“Yeah…come here…” He crooked the index and middle fingers of his free hand, gesturing you closer.

You immediately leaned over the railing of his bed, shifting closer.

“What is it?” You asked, wanting to be of assistance.

“A kiss.” He grinned, slipping his fingers around the back of your neck as soon as you were within his reach.

“Oh.” You murmured, eyes flicking up to meet his warm, whisky-colored gaze, before assisting him in closing the distance.

It was tentative at first, a gentle brush of mouths that sent a familiar rush of warmth through your veins and had your breath shuddering against his damp lips. His breath caught audibly in his throat before he tugged you closer, pulling your lips to his firmly as you pressed your still-entwined hands into the mattress beside his head to brace yourself. The fingers of your other hand delved greedily into his longer-than-usual curls, relishing in their silky feel as he rumbled happily against your lips.

Finding your synchronized rhythm after all these years, both of your lips parted to deepen the kiss. You sighed deeply at the familiar taste that was unmistakably his, mixed with the salty tang of tears as one or both of you were crying. A deliberate knock and polite cough had you tensing before pulling back quickly, untangling your fingers from his hair carefully before stepping back to allow what looked like a team of doctors to enter the room.

You slipped out into the hall when they initiated their exam, wanting to give him his full privacy, and sank into one of the chairs near the desk where the unpleasant sergeant offered you a glare before turning back to his work. The output of energy, and ebb of adrenaline, caught up to you then and you found your eyelids sinking heavily as you rested your chin on your palm, elbow balanced on the arm rest, dozing until one of the medical team gently shook you awake.

“Sorry. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is asking for you…” She apologized as you blinked up at her sleepily, but you smiled quickly and shook your head, heading back into the room again, noting that Bradley’s countenance was more serious than when you had parted.

An empty food tray sat on the bedside table – you had apparently slept through meal delivery.

“Everything ok?” You asked quietly, carrying one of the empty chairs over to sit beside his bed as he looked you over, sighing softly. You noticed the team had dropped the side rail on his bed and left it lowered, making him more easily accessible to you.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation of where I’ve been. Of what happened.”

“Bradley, you owe me absolutely nothing. You can share with me whatever you wish whenever you are ready but there is no obligation involved.” You frowned, reaching for his hand, which he squeezed softly as he stroked his beard thoughtfully with the other.

“Let me start with the fact that I am not unscathed? I…You went to my grave, you all but said as much.” You nodded guiltily in reply, and he squeezed your hand against reassuringly. “I left a piece of myself behind in that plane, after the missile hit, before I could eject.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, looking him over as he looked pretty whole to you, until your eyes trailed lower, and you noticed only one peak at the end of the bed when there ought to be two. Your eyes widened as your heart rate picked up, but you did your best to take a steady breath and assume a neutral expression before turning back to him.

“Your leg?” You asked gently.

“My left foot.” He confirmed with a nod, voice tight. “I assume that’s what they found and used as confirmation of my death. There’s not an awful lot left usually when we burn in. That’s what is probably buried in San Diego.”

“I’m so sorry, Bradley…” You shifted to stand, sliding your arms around him in a careful hug, pressing your cheek against the top of his hair as he buried his face in your neck.

You held him reassuringly, hands pressing into his back soothingly as his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you until his heavy breaths evened out and he leaned back to look up at you.

“They have to do more surgery, to properly fit a prosthetic. A sympathetic family found me, cauterized it, kept me alive, moved me around to other like-minded people until they could smuggle me to Kuwait…It’s never stopped hurting…” He whispered and you frowned softly, kissing his forehead.

“Oh Bradley…” You whispered in reply, arms tightening around him protectively, wishing you could bear just a little of his burden, ease even a fraction of his pain.

He lay his head against your chest, and you lifted a hand to stroke his hair soothingly.

“They want me to get stronger and then they’ll send me state side for surgery and rehab…they’re thinking Walter Reed…”

You hummed thoughtfully, trying not to take too much pleasure in the thought of him being in Maryland.

“It’s a good hospital.”

“Close to you.”

“I’d come as much as possible. You’d be welcome to come stay with me if you need a place.” You murmured, noting how his torso was growing heavier against you. “Why don’t we lay you down, hmmm?” You suggested softly and he nodded, complying sleepily.

You rearranged his blankets carefully to tuck him in, settling into the chair at his bedside and taking his hand, watching as he fought with his heavy eyelids.

“Shhh rest, Bradley, it’s ok.”

“Stay…?” He asked, eyes flashing open one last time to lock onto yours pleadingly.

“Of course I’ll stay.” You nodded and squeezed his hand, smiling as he nodded back, surrendering to his exhaustion and falling asleep.

You were not far behind, laying your head on the bed beside your clasped hands, letting sleep overtake you as well.

You awoke to the feel of warm, calloused fingertips stroking down your jaw, your lips curling up at the corners at the pleasant sensation before you forced your eyes open in the low light of the hospital room. Any sense of time had abandoned you somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, but it was still dark outside the windows and a glance around the room revealed a sleeping Captain Mitchell, slumped back in the other chair near the door.

Looking back to Bradley, who’s touch had roused you, he mouthed a soft sorry, to which you shook your head in reply.

“You ok?” You whispered.

“Hungry.” He confessed and you smirked a little.

“I’ll find something ok?”

He nodded gratefully and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before easing your stiff body from its less-than-ergonomic position in your chair. You both shared a wide-eyed look at the crack your neck emitted, glancing over at Maverick, who thankfully slept through it all. You stopped by the nursing station, grateful to find a friendly lieutenant on duty who directed you to a vending machine with sandwiches at the end of the hall.

Suddenly inspired to hunger of your own, you procured a few from the machine that thankfully accepted American currency before returning to the room to partake in your feast with Bradley. Once you’d cleared away the wrappers and the crumbs, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“You said you wrote me a reply…did you save a copy?”

You swallowed and eyed him for a moment, wondering how it was possible for someone to know you so very well. While you had written the letter to him on compostable paper, hoping to leave as little an environmental footprint as possible, a part of you had needed to keep of a record of your words to him. Thus, you had taken a photo of your handwritten letter and saved it on your phone.

You pulled the device out of your pocket, ignoring the knowing grin on his features as you pulled it up, squinting a little at the intrusive brightness before holding it out for him to read in the dimly lit silence.

He raised his eyes as he came to the end, the glow of the screen causing the unshed tears in his eyes to shimmer. You leaned up to kiss his temple before whispering.

“I’d like to amend the ending…. You’re home now, thanks to every power in the universe, and whatever comes next, we get to figure it out together.”

He licked his lips slowly, setting your phone down on the worn flannel, before cupping your face to guide your mouth to meet his warmly.

When at last, nearly a year later, the President delivered his rewritten speech and secured the blue ribbon of the Medal of Honor around Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw’s neck, you watched from the front row with a raised mark on your cheek. Bradley fondly referred to it as your ‘rescue mission battle scar’ and pressed his lips to it with delightful frequency, letting the whiskers of his once again neatly trimmed moustache tickle your cheek.

The seat you occupied was that of his beloved partner, rather than standing in the corner as an anonymous White House staffer. It was the seat that you had always been meant to occupy and one that would never willingly vacate again.

Top Gun Masterlist

@tgm-all4one

[dat-town]

haunting

never seen circus masterpost

Characters: Yunho & female reader

Setting & genre: magical realism au, ghost au

Summary: Yunho was the centre of your universe. He made you so happy and you wished you could do the same but his eyes were always so, so sad.

Warnings: general creepiness of an eerie circus, ambiguous ending, mentions of blood, injuries, car accident, self-conscious MC, implied past death

Words: 1.4k

i guess i will tag you in all of these @restlessmaknae 

You remembered the day you had met Yunho and fallen in love with his dimpled smile almost immediately. He was the typical boy next door with his easygoing and kind personality, it was impossible not to love him. But somehow it had been you whose seatmate he had become on the first day of university and then all other days too during your shared Economics lectures.

You and him had been inseparable ever since.

You had spent a meaningful majority of your early twenties with him by your side. Study sessions in the library had turned into café dates and then cuddling on the couch in front of Netflix. Weekend trips to the beach, dissing terrible job interviews, murmuring I love yous into his warm skin under the blazing sun and him kissing every one of your fingers until you couldn’t feel the unforgiving cold of January.

You loved him more than anything.

Especially after the accident. He was the only one who still looked at you the same way.

It had been awful. You remembered the yelling, the honking and a blinding light. Then the pain had come and everything had gone dark. When you had opened your eyes, it had been Yunho you had seen first. His temple had been bloodied, glass shard cuts all across his lovely cheek. He could barely open his eyes and his head had been wrapped in white gauze.

You had cried yourself to sleep because you had known it had been your fault. You had been the one who had insisted on visiting the circus even in the pouring rain. Looking back you couldn’t understand why it had been so important to go on that particular Sunday. There would have been other days and other circuses. There was no other Yunho. No circus was worth that much.

Yunho had recovered but after that you had promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get hurt ever again. But something must have been broken between the two of you after the accident because his eyes had become so, so sad. He still looked at you lovingly, like you were the most precious thing and for those moments you felt seen and beautiful even if other people looked away when they saw you. Nobody else mattered, not when you had Yunho. You just didn’t get why he felt so far even when he was brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Are you happy?” The boy asked, cautious, and you blinked at him in confusion.

“Of course, I am. I have you,” you smiled at him but Yunho looked like he was made of glass, crackling at your words.

When your boyfriend proposed a weekend getaway, you were more than happy being on board with the idea. You hadn’t really been going out since what had happened. You needed it to feel some normalcy again.

“Where are we going?” You asked curiously while you were walking through a forest during the golden hour. You liked surprises and Yunho was always the best with date nights as he was a much better planner than you were but you had always been curious by nature.

“You will see,” he said with a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He sounded tired but that must have been because he worked those extra hours over the week.

He didn’t let go of your hand even when you reached the edge of the forest path and you saw a circus right in the middle of the meadow in all its shiny gilded glory.

You flinched at the laugh of clowns and the eerie music, phantom pain throbbing in your skull. Your steps halted and you took a shaky breath.

“Yunho…” You whispered, feeling uneasy.

“It’s okay,” Yunho reassured you in his soft voice, letting you nuzzle closer. “I’m here.”

You tried to find excitement and awe in the wonderful spectacles all around but deep down you had a bad feeling. Maybe it was because of what had happened and your brain subconsciously associated circuses with inevitable tragedies but you could almost feel yourself spiral into panic. You didn’t quite feel okay in your body. It was almost like you were watching yourself from the outside.

You jumped in surprise when a black cat ran across the road right in front of you and heck, you weren’t superstitious but did it mean that you would be unlucky? Maybe you should have left.

But Yunho seemed determined to stay and he was clearly looking for something, so you told yourself to be patient. It must have been the surprise. What could it be, you wondered, a fortune teller or a palm reader?

The tent of a ghost whisperer wasn’t what you expected even though it felt awfully familiar. Have you been there before?

You turned to Yunho, the question burning on the tip of your tongue, but he was looking at the girl behind the candle lit desk, hovering over a bone coloured board with letters scattered over it. You vaguely remembered that tool from horror stories as something used to communicate with the dead. An Ouija board.

The young girl in old fashioned clothes behind the desk looked up at the two of you and hummed knowingly. There was something unnerving about it as she looked at you.

“I knew you would be back. Most people are,” she said, melancholy ringing in her voice and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She wasn’t sure whether she talked to you or your boyfriend.

“She… she is just a shell of herself. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore,” Yunho spoke up hoarsely.

“I told you there was always a price to play,” the girl reminded him but the entire scene had you going a little crazy because you couldn’t understand anything.

“What’s going on, Yunho? Who is she? Why are you talking like you are breaking up with me?”

Yunho turned to you, his usually warm nougat eyes devastatingly sad and then he walked you to the full body mirror on one side of the tent.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and there were already tears pricking your eyes because what could have been so terrible about your looks that made him call you a shell?

Then you saw it.

There was Yunho, tall and handsome, perfect if only a little pale and his smile you loved so much was lost on him. And you? You were nowhere. In the mirror there he stood alone, no sign of your reflection. You reached out to touch the furniture with shaky hands and looked down at your skin, half-transparent in this new glow.

“Am I dead?” Your voice hitched, panic coursing through you.

“Your soul is trapped in a limbo between this world and the beyond,” the stranger girl explained patiently. “He’s the one keeping you here.”

So you did die. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t tell when was the last time you interacted with somebody else other than Yunho. Or when you last spent time alone. Or when you ate or went to the bathroom. All you could remember was being with Yunho, everything else was just a blur. As if he was the reason why you even existed, the Sun of your universe.

You felt like crying but you couldn’t. Ghosts didn’t have tears. You must have imagined every tear and every touch since the accident and it only made the loss cut deeper.

Yunho was crying though, crystal-like tears were running down his cheeks and when you reached up, you could feel the warmth on his skin against your own cold nothingness.

“I love you so much that I brought you back,” the boy whispered and you could feel your heart break for him even if you didn’t have one anymore. You never wanted to see Yunho suffer, not like this, not because of you. “But it’s not the life you deserve. You should move on. Find peace.”

The thought of him saying goodbye, of losing him scared you.

“No. I don’t want that. I’ll be staying with you, Yunho. Please, don’t do this,” you begged because you wanted to stay by his side, you didn’t want to be alone. The two of you were supposed to be together forever.

But it was too late. The boy was already taking off the couple bracelet you both had and the ghost whisperer took it from him, letting it fall into flames, smoke going up dark and quick.

Your scream cut through the night, extinguishing every lit candle and by the time the sun came up, you were once again faded.

But Yunho swore he could catch sight of you in mirrors from time to time.

[can-youimagine]

Hospital (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

Summary: Following a trip to see your family, your world is completely changed, and there's nothing you can do about it

Word Count: 776

TW: Mentions of Foyet's attack on Aaron (nothing graphic), hospitals, past story of Aaron being a klutz, angsty

Part of my Snippets of a Man in Love series!

A/N: This is definitely not the next part of the story sequentially, but I had this idea, and I literally could not write anything else until I wrote this

“Thank you again, Tina. I owe you.” Your neighbor had graciously agreed to drive you and Jack back from the airport. The two of you had spent the last week in Seattle visiting your family. Aaron was packed and ready to go before a case kept him home. “Isn’t that right, Jack?” You glance back at his car seat and smile at your sleeping son.

“It’s no problem, really. I’m glad we got to catch up for a bit. Have you heard from Aaron?”

You glance at your phone, still no word from him. “He said he got in late last night. I would hope he’s sleeping, but I know him better than that,”

She laughs as she pulls into the neighborhood. “That man.”

“That man indeed.” Your laughter is cut off when you see one of Aaron’s co-workers outside your house. “Would you mind taking Jack for a bit?”

“Of course,” she answers, letting you out of the car. “Call me when you can.”

You nod, though your focus is on the woman at your door. “Can I help you?”

“Dr. Hotchner? I’m Agent Emily Prentiss with the BAU.”

“What’re you doing here? Where’s Aaron?”

She sighs. “I’m not sure. I asked Garcia for his location, and she’s trying t-” her phone rings, causing you both to feel some relief. She quickly gives the hospital, and you feel yourself start to relax. If he’s in the hospital, he’s alive, and if he’s alive, he’ll figure this out, and everything will be okay. 

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as Agent Prentiss drives over.

“Our first date ended in a hospital,” you state, trying to keep yourself focused on something good. “It was in the middle of January, and when he was walking me to my door, he slipped on a patch of ice and broke his wrist. Though, I think his pride hurt more.” She smiles with you. The idea of Aaron “Hard Stare” Hotchner being taken out by the ice was incredibly entertaining, and if she had heard this story under normal circumstances, she would tease him relentlessly. “He insisted he didn’t need to go, but when he tried to stand up, he fell again. He may act like he’s made of iron, but he’s still just flesh and bone like the rest of us.”

She smiles, letting you talk all the way to the hospital. She can listen to it for a few more minutes if it keeps you calm. 

As soon as you enter the hospital, it’s a blur of forms, white linoleum, and disinfectant until you’re told you can see him. You are beyond nervous. This is only the second time you’ve seen the love of your life in the hospital. Last time, you didn’t even go back with him. You didn’t have to see him hooked to wires and IVs and everything else. You just got to see the best parts of the hospital trip, if there were any. 

“Aar?” you greet, unsure if he’s even awake.

Grunting, he pushes himself up. “Hey, how’s your family?”

“We can talk about my family later.” You pull the chair as close to his bed as you can. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m alive.”

“How’re you feeling?” you repeat.

He shrugs. “Physically? Like I’ve been hit by a bus. Otherwise, I’m fucking terrified.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Not yet,” he answers. “I don’t want to tell you anything until it’s all over.”

“What can you tell me?”

“That I’ll talk to WITSEC, and they’ll make sure you and Jack are okay until this is all over.” He pauses before looking around the room. “Where is Jack?”

“He’s with Tina. I’ll-”

“Tell her that Morgan will be coming to pick him up, and not to let anyone without a badge into the house. I’ll let him know the safeword too, just to be sure.”

“Aaron?”

“We’ll get him, and we’ll all be together soon, but for right now, I need to make sure you both are safe.”

You squeeze his hand. You want to protest and tell him that you can’t do this alone, that you both need to be together, but you know Aaron. He has thought about this and beat himself up about this decision. You trust him. You know it’s right.

But, that doesn’t stop you from crying as you lead an equally upset toddler into an unfamiliar car. That doesn’t stop you from crying late that night when all you want to do is curl into Aaron’s arms. That doesn’t stop you from crying when you look in the mirror and see a person you can barely recognize.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (24M) and my partner K (26M) are in a long distance relationship. I am currently in the closet, and I live in a very conservative area, whereas K is very much out of the closet and lives in a very left leaning area on the opposite side of the country. Because of this, we don't get to see each other in person very often due to the cost of airfare and it not being safe for him to visit me.

About a month ago, I got an invitation to crash for a weekend with a close childhood friend--who I will refer to as A(25M)--some time in January. I have not seen A in several years, and his house is only a day or two's drive away, so I happily accepted. I told K, and he suggested we take the opportunity to meet up since I am going to be out of state.

I was hesitant, because I really don't want to turn this emotional reunion with A into a couple's getaway. That said, it's been a while since K and I saw each other, so I said sure, figuring that I'd stay with A for the weekend, then extend my trip and spend a few days on vacation with K.

Well, plans suddenly changed when I finally got approved for my own apartment in a more left leaning area. Surprise! I no longer have to worry about K's safety when he comes to visit. He is planning to come down and see me in a couple months.

Here's the issue. I love K, but I want some time alone with A. We haven't seen each other in 7 years, and I'm going to be staying at his house. It feels weird to ask if I can bring another person into his (already kind of cramped) house that he does not know, and now that my rent has suddenly doubled, I don't really have the means to rent an AirBnB or hotel room for the week.

K has also expressed jealousy regarding my friendship with A due to how close we have gotten very suddenly (not suddenly for us, again, we've known each other for 13 years, we just fell out of contact), as well as some things that we have in common that K and I do not. He has not asked me to distance myself or anything, I am not interested in A like that, and I have made that clear to him. It just feels like it would be a very weird vibe to bring K to A's house and risk making A uncomfortable in his own home.

K is also already coming to my house very soon, so it's not like it will have been forever since I've seen him. He hasn't bought the tickets yet for either trip, but I feel guilty telling him I don't want to see him, especially since he has already expressed jealousy about A and I's relationship. WIBTA if I told K that I don't want to bring him along when I go to visit A?

What are these acronyms?