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howcouldmuffin · 1 month

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First Choice I

[ Chapter 1 : The Unchangeable Past ]

You’ve always known you weren’t his first choice. You’ve accepted being his second option, but you won’t wait in the wings forever.

PAIRING : Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : SFW, Targaryen Incest, Non-canon

CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

AN : Hello, this is a mini-series I’ve been wanting to write. At first, I intended to write it as a single chapter, but the plot in my head is too extensive, so I thought it might be better to split it up. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece of writing.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Being the second child isn’t easy, and if you’re a daughter, your importance within the family starts to diminish. You have to hide behind your older siblings, always being compared to them, whether it’s your older sister, brother, or even younger brother.

You know that you are often overlooked. No matter how hard you try to please your grandparents or parents, you can never measure up to your siblings. You have nothing to compete with them. All you have is your appearance, which your mother often describes as “beautiful but mindless.”

Hearing those words only deepens your hurt. You can never be the child or grandchild they want, and even your beauty becomes a sharp weapon slowly aimed at you. Every time you enter the hall at social gatherings, you sense their expectations. The unwanted attention and harassment you faced as a child made you reluctant to participate in social events and made you want to leave.

Once, you heard that Rhaenyra, your eldest sister, wanted to betroth her son Jacaerys to your sister Helaena. Your mother refused and instead betrothed Helaena to your eldest brother Aegon. Now, your father Viserys has offered a new arrangement: you will be betrothed instead. You are not the eldest daughter who needs to marry the eldest son like Helaena. You are not a son like Aemond or Daeron. You are being forced into this marriage, and you know that your nephew is also dissatisfied with it.

You don’t hate him, but rather it's him who seems to feel that way. Being close to Aemond in your childhood, though it made you a target of teasing, helped you understand him. Aegon was always skilled and clever in these matters, often taking your nephew on mischievous adventures. You tried to comfort your brother when he was being picked on, but he seemed indifferent to your words.

Yet, your own tragic feelings only pushed you further into despair. At every gathering, you watched your nephew intently. During every training session, your eyes were fixed on him. At every meal where jokes were shared, you always looked to see his reaction. You did this because no one ever paid attention to you while your relatives were nearby—like the moon waiting for the sun’s light.

And then, it reached its end. The event that caused both families to avoid each other. Aemond lost an eye and received a dragon. You knew your brother was the one who started the conflict, harming the children first, and he was no longer someone who tolerated much. You told him that now that he had a dragon, the largest one at that, he should stop nursing his grudges and focus on other things instead. Aemond didn’t respond; he merely gave a scornful smile and turned away from you.

This meant you never saw him again. Not even a single letter was exchanged. You could only listen to the servants in the castle recount stories about them. You dreamt of and wondered what he would be like. How would he react if he knew and realized that you were his betrothed? You eagerly awaited the chance to stand by his side, training yourself in every way for him, hoping that it might finally make a difference.

After waiting for many years, you are finally going to meet him, though not under the most pleasant of circumstances. At least you will meet the man who is meant to shape you into someone you have never been. You chose to wear a golden V-neck dress with sleeveless straps, with a few thin bands around your arms serving as sleeves. Your hair was simply braided and pinned back. You are filled with hope, though it could easily shatter.

As soon as you step into the grand hall, all eyes are on you. It is known that the youngest daughter prefers seclusion over socializing, and you hope this will make a good impression on the prince. Your eyes quickly search for him and you spot him talking with your cousin. You head in his direction, eagerly anticipating his approach. You can barely contain your excitement, and your smile is one of astonishment. Yet, you can sense that the look he gives you is far from friendly—it is the last thing you hoped for.

“Why are you so late?” your mother’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “And where is your sister?” Alicent grips your arm, causing you pain, but you are used to it.

“I was just helping Helaena get the children dressed. She should be here soon.” you reply, and her grip loosens as her stern expression softens.

“It’s good you didn’t leave your sister in trouble.”

The judgment clearly favors your sister over Vaemon, but what makes your heart race is Rhaenys's announcement of a betrothal between her granddaughter and Rhaenyra's son. Your concern grows as you notice Jacaerys and Baela exchanging smiles that are unfamiliar and perhaps never meant for you.

After the verdict was delivered, you withdrew from the hall and retreated to your room immediately. It became clear that, despite the passage of time, he might never see you in a favorable light. You have no one to blame but yourself—although you never mocked him directly, you never stopped those who did. Perhaps it is only fitting that you face this now.

After lying awake for what felt like an eternity, your trusted maid entered your room to prepare you for dinner with the family. You had shed a few tears after leaving the hall, and your eyes were now slightly swollen.

“Your Highness.” the maid, Vidah, said as she entered, “Shall we get ready? The prince will appreciate you even more.”

“No need, Vidah.” you replied. “There’s no point in doing that. Let things unfold as they will.” You smiled at her and slowly rose from the bed. She must understand you by now. Vidah is the only one you can confide in—like a mother, a friend, and an older sister all in one. She is another family to you.

“It’s alright, Your Highness.” she said, guiding you to the vanity and helping you sit in front of it. “You have more beauty and grace than any woman in Westeros. One day, the prince will see this.”

You nodded, and she gently began to undo your braid, combing your hair slowly as if it were silk.

“I’ll make you the most desirable princess in the Seven Kingdoms.” she whispered. “Even in this dress, you remain beautiful. Don’t undervalue yourself.”

“Thank you, Vidah.” you said, finally managing a genuine smile.

You walked into the dining hall slowly, relieved to not be late but anxious that not all your siblings had arrived yet. You feared another reprimand, but Aegon’s presence helped ease your nerves. He told you amusing stories, and even though you knew they were embellished, they were still entertaining.

As more people entered the dining room, you found yourself constantly scanning for Jacaerys. When he did arrive, you saw him walking in with Baela, just as before. The feeling in your heart was as if it had dropped from the top of the castle. When Viserys entered, everyone showed respect to your father, and the meal began.

You noticed the prince’s gaze occasionally fixed on you—sometimes with surprise, sometimes with scrutiny, and sometimes just passing over you. You hadn’t spoken a word since the meal started. Aemond seemed indifferent, merely eating to finish, while Helaena was lost in her thoughts.

Aegon seemed to be trying to engage Jacaerys, but was unsuccessful. Jacaerys then stood and invited Helaena to dance, not you. You could only think that if your mother were less biased, they might have made a wonderful pair and ruled the realm superbly.

Though it was still early, it was late enough to use as an excuse to escape your relatives. Walking alone through the Red Keep at night was not unusual for you, as you were rarely noticed unless there was a festive event or a tournament.

You wandered for an indeterminate amount of time, wanting to continue aimlessly until you overheard a conversation.

“You cannot refuse to speak with her.”

“Do you think she wants to speak with me? Last time, she cried because her beloved brother lost an eye, and even though she saw the whole event, she ran away.”

“She went to get help.”

“And what happened? My brother is now targeted by my uncle.”

You didn’t listen further. You knew it would be as they said—if only you had stopped your brother back then, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. You might truly be a walking disaster. Maybe you aren’t as valuable as everyone says.

Upon returning to your room, you found Vidah waiting for you. She would try to soothe you to sleep before going to bed herself or at least ensure you didn’t return to your room in tears as you did tonight. You hugged her and rested on her lap as you used to. She gently stroked your head and comforted you.

“If only I… if only I had told him to stop.” you sobbed. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I had intervened, they… they might not be like this.” tears flowed down both sides of your face, staining Vidah's clothes and hair, making them damp.

“Oh, my princess.” she gently stroked your back. “Whatever is meant to happen will happen. If you had intervened, you might have been the one to lose an eye. You did well to get others to help.”

“I don’t know what Aemond thinks of his nephew now.” you sobbed. “I tried, Vidah, but is my effort still not enough?”

“My princess, you have tried enough. We cannot make things turn out as we wish. You know that.” she replied, then helped you lie down comfortably and stroked your head gently. “Sleep now. We have tomorrow to wake up to. You have done your best, my princess.”

You said nothing further and nodded to your trusted maid. You slowly closed your eyes, trying to stop your thoughts and rest as Vidah advised.

Once again, the family gathering has arrived, but this time it's just the children, staring at each other. Everyone is sitting in a large reception room. You occasionally glance at him; he seems very familiar with Baela.

“They surely didn’t call us just to stare at each other, did they?” Aegon asks.

“We're waiting here, and after they finish their discussion, we'll have dinner together.” Jacaerys replies. You can tell your older brother must have some plan he's about to execute.

“Well, they might be mistaken about our patience.” he says with a broad smile. “Come on, nephew. Let’s find something fun to do.”

It’s bound to be neither fun nor trouble-free. Aegon turns to invite Jace again, but he doesn’t react. He shrugs and walks out of the room, glancing back at you in confusion. Aemond, seeing this, turns to you and also exits the room.

“Jaehaerys, don’t be a nuisance.” your sister warns her son as she sees your father and uncle leaving. The boy approaches you, likely wanting you to play with him instead, and you don’t refuse.

“Who’s been a good boy today?” You pick him up and chat as you usually do. He’s much livelier than his sister, but Jaehaera causes less trouble.

“I am, and Haera.”

“What a lovely brother you are.” you touch his tiny nose, and he touches it back, laughing. It warms the atmosphere in the room. Children often heal your spirit on tired days; their smiles make you ready to protect them unconditionally.

“He has grown up well.” Baela comments. “He’ll grow into a fine young man.” She stands up and approaches you. You’re unsure how to react.

“He likes being held.” you respond. “Would you like to try holding him?” Baela looks at your sister, who nods in agreement, and she slowly takes the boy from you. You gently pat the child’s back and tell him it’s okay.

As expected, Jaehaerys makes Baela smile, and the boy tells her stories he thinks are amazing. You catch the eye of your fiancé, who is focused on her. Luke and Rhaena are chatting with your sister. Soon, you notice Jacaerys looking at you. You meet his gaze, and it’s a stare after many years of not seeing each other. He’s still the same as when you first met. He moves closer, and you feel a glimmer of hope that he might want to talk to you, but why would he?

He walks over to Baela, engaging in a conversation you feel hesitant to interrupt. It flows smoothly, and they seem quite familiar with each other. You smile at Helaena and slowly leave the room. When will you be brave enough? You walk to the grand corridor and stop at a large column, facing it, not crying but trying to gather your composure.

“Try if you can, sister.” a familiar voice says.

“Just leave me alone, Aemond.”

“You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I am myself.” you face him. “And what if that’s the case?”

“Don’t show your feelings so openly that you appear weak.”

“Isn’t that how you all see me anyway?”

“Who, then? Mother or Grandfather?”

“All of you.”

“Being able to do everything but excel at nothing isn’t so terrible, sister.” Aemond extends his arm toward you.

“Let’s go. We’ve probably been important enough already to be late.” You grasp his arm and walk with him to the dining room. Even though your brother seems tough, it’s strange how he understands your feelings the best.

Walking alone down the corridors of the Red Keep at night is probably not a new experience for you. Exploring every corner in a different light, spending as much time as possible with yourself, not wanting to hear complaints, scolding, or comparisons from your mother, and avoiding the condescending gazes of your siblings—especially his.

But tonight, you encounter him at the other end of the corridor. You pause and consider whether to continue walking or not. But your thoughts are far behind his movements. He notices you and remains as indifferent as ever, seeming to make you invisible in his eyes, which is impossible. You have to do something about this relationship.

“Your Highness.” you begin, and he nods in acknowledgment without a word.

“Is the prince unable to sleep?”

“I just wanted to take a walk.” he says, about to move away.

“I apologize, Your Highness.” you interrupt him. “I know it’s probably too late for this, but I truly feel that I was wrong. I’m sorry for not asking Aemond to stop, for not helping, for not fully explaining the situation to everyone, and for other actions. I never harbored any dislike or aversion towards you. I know it might be hard to believe, but I speak sincerely.”

He listens but doesn’t turn to look at you. He pauses briefly to make sure you have nothing more to say, then walks away, leaving you drowning in confusion. It seems that one word cannot mend what has already been hurt. It might be a scar that can never be healed.

You return to your room to find Vidah absent. You collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of your room—the ceiling you often gaze at while dreaming of various things. It’s like a canvas for your personal musings and expressions.

You don’t cry, but you feel a release from the feelings that have been suppressed within. You have said everything you needed to him. From now on, you must prove that your thoughts are sincere, not merely words of deceit, and hope that God will assist you in this matter.

If you’re not mistaken, your relationship with Jacaerys might only be one of good friends, as he may already have someone in his heart—Baela. You don’t deny that she is more suitable for him. She is the eldest daughter, with a stronger Targaryen bloodline, and is closer to him. You hold no anger or dislike towards her, but you do not want to be part of a romantic entanglement that would only cause you pain. You don’t want to because you have already endured enough suffering.

#‧⁺◟ lyn writing table *•#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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f10werfae · 2 years

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Sugar Sweet Thong

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Wife!Reader

warning: After Y/n gets a new thong, away up in his cabin where no one can touch her but him, her wild man of a husband can’t keep his hands off her (Major Dom Henry)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Baby, how did your little gift exchange thing go today? n’ what’s behind your beautiful body?”Henry asked watching his girl creep in through the front door, a clearly visible Victoria Secret bag in her hands. “It went well” She said shortly, her act falling once Henry patted his knees, beckoning her to sit on his beefy thighs; a strong arm curling around her waist. “Well what’d ya get sugar? C’mon n’ let me see, even brought more firewood in so we can snuggle in close tonight”

He growled nuzzling his nose against her cheek, his lips pressing a sloppy kiss onto her jaw. “We actually did something a little different this year, w-we did a thong exchange, so we all-“

“So you all bought each other thongs huh? Go on baby, show me your pretty new lace on for me to play with” Henry leant back in the arm chair, Y/n easily cuddling back with him, instantly missing his body heat. Henry’s arm around her waist softly stroked her stomach, his fingers teasing the rim of her underwear

“But that’s embarrassing! I can just hold it up for youu” Y/n whined shoving her face in his neck, the smell of pinewood and cologne filling her nose, his chequered over-shirt unbuttoned to reveal a tight white shirt.

A year ago Henry took a trip to the closest town for new tools, his eyes immediately caught onto the sweet little thing working in her grandparent’s candy shop. Dressed in a lavender dress she always greeted him with a smile, clinging onto his burly arms every time they walked about town, gaining a few stares as people thought ‘How could such a grumpy thing get that light?’

Of course once Henry convinced her to elope, it only made sense that she moved out with him to his isolated luxurious cabin out on the slopes. Their wedding consisted of just her family, Henry’s being nowhere in site but that didn’t bother any of them, frankly Y/n’s parents were just glad she was finally married despite her still being in her early 20s; for a man in his 30s like Henry to want their daughter’s hand in marriage, that was a gift.

“You’re my wife, if anythin the lace is the frame for my pretty picture. Now go get the damn thong on” Henry said more dominantly slapping Y/n’s ass causing her to squeal and giggle to their shared bedroom.

Pulling the thong up her thighs, Y/n couldn’t help but feel confident at the sight of the new lace on her body, when her friend’s words came back to her. “Come on Y/n, think of it as a present for both you and your grumpy ol’ man” Lucy giggled handing Y/n the bag.

Putting on one of Henry’s plaid shirts over her, she walked back out to the armchair in front of the log fire, wearing nothing underneath but her new thong. “Well?” Henry asked taking another swig of beer, throwing his cap onto the floor.

Y/n shyly pulled up the shirt revealing it to her husband, causing him to sit up and lean forward, his nose hitting her mound. “Sugar, you decorated my flower with another pretty flower, how thoughtful of you” He said looking up at her before taking his tongue and striping a lick up her thinly covered pussy.

“W-what are you doing Hen?” Y/n asked threading her fingers through his messy curls, his, “Kissing my pretty pussy” Henry growled placing kisses all over, finally setting one on her clit, causing his woman to slightly jolt in his hold. Henry leant back, unbuckling the belt she had recently gotten him for Christmas, his jeans falling to just his knees.

“Sit on my lap baby, get comfortable with your man, tell me about your day, wan’ hear all about it” Nodding Y/n sat back on his lap, the only thing between her pussy and his thick cock, being her lace thong. He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other starting to slowly rub her clit through the lace as she talked.

“W-we went to starbucks, oh fuck, and- and then”

“Language baby” Henry growled slapping her pussy out of nowhere, before going back to slowly playing with her nub, his other arm making sure she doesn’t wiggle away from him.

“T-then we went back to Grace’s and we did the thong- thong exchange” Y/n gasped feeling Henry’s cock slide between her thighs, his red head bumping her clit every single time, just like he wanted. “That’s it baby, keep talking to me” Henry urged, his fingers going into his mouth and going back onto her clit, his other hand groping onto her right breast as she clawed onto his arms.

“Can’t do it, feels too good bear” Y/n breathed out leaning her head back onto his shoulder, his lips instantly landing onto her cheek, her head turning to give him a small kiss on the lips. “Got you all dumbed up on my cock, right honey? Can’t think when i’m all up on you, you drive me crazy” He growled fixing her up tighter against him, both his hands now going to her waist for his next move.

“Can’t imagine what woulda happened if I didn’t marry ya and bring you up here with me, you ever going to keep my pussy away from me?” Henry taunted pushing her body up and down, his cock sliding up and down her pussy lips which were now visible with the soaked lace.

“N-no. is’ your pussy baby, can have it whenever you want” Y/n moaned, her eyes going to the back of her head, knowing damn well that his words were enough to make her cum then and there. “Want you inside me Hen”

“Nuh-uh honey, maybe tomorrow, m’tired tonight. You understand right? Was busy working for us day n’ night” Henry said smirking knowing damn well his bank accounts were big enough to supply them another 10 lifetimes, but his baby didn’t need to know that, and she wouldn’t.

“Y-you’re right Hen, m’sorry, love you so much” Y/n whimpered feeling tears prick her eyes, her head turning coaxing out Henry’s tongue with her own, their rapid movements causing their kiss to turn wet and messy real quick. Filthy just like they both liked it. “I love you too baby. I’m going to cum on top of your pussy, that okay sugar?” He asked in her ear, her voice now rasped and broken as she screamed for him to do so. His cock painting the lilac lace white with his cum, Y/n’s eyes starting to lid close from exhaustion

“Can I at least keep this pair?” Y/n shuddered feeling her husband peel the sticky fabric down her thighs, watching as he threw it to somewhere in the living room, her eyes basically love hearts as she watched him attend to her. Kissing her nose, giving her a massive drink of water, bringing her back onto his lap this time with a soft blanket.

“You know the rules sugar, no underwear indoors” Henry whispered watching their log fire, his arms clasped around her waist as she resumed her story of her day, her nails softly playing with the wedding bands on their fingers. “Then I saw Stephanie’s new baby, n’ I was thinking can we have one?”

Henry woke up from his daydream to see Y/n looking up at him cutely, a sweet sugar like smile on her face, “Course baby, i’ll give you anything you want”

———

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#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill smut #romance #henry cavill fandom #lumberjack!henry cavill

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ibetonlosinghuskies · 2 months

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patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

#Spotify #pazzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #i bet on losing huskies

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year

Text

Baby Mine [George Weasley x Reader]

Title: Baby Mine

Pairing: Husband!George Weasley x wife!Reader, dad!George Weasley x Mum!Reader.

Timeline: Set after DH (no mentions of war, voldy and Fred is very much alive)

Summary: The birth of his daughter brings up many feelings in George, none more so than worry that his child would be upset by him being an identical twin.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, birth and children. Brief mentions of birth related injury. Illusions to breastfeeding. Mentions of sex but no descriptive smut. Just some lovely fluff 🤍

When you fell pregnant just two months after your wedding to George, you were both absolutely elated and ready to start your family. You had the regular concerns that any couple has about being good parents, money and all the usual things bringing a child into the world makes you question, but George was also secretly harbouring a fear that he hadn't told you about until well into your pregnancy.

"What if the baby can't tell me and Fred apart?" He said quietly one night whilst you were in bed.

You were absolutely exhausted, well into your second trimester and though your morning sickness had all but worn off, the tiredness had not. Just to complicate matters, you'd libido had gone through the roof and you couldn't get enough of your husband, despite feeling like you could fall asleep standing up for most of the day, as soon as sex was brought up it was like you'd had your daily allowance of caffeine all at once. That's how you found yourself in bed with a very naked and sweaty George after another round of passionate love making, both of you talking about your future and the baby as he cradled your bump, your little one kicking up a storm after your coupling, no doubt hearing your heart rate speed up.

"What if they cry because there's two of us? Or if they prefer Fred to me? Or what if they don't like Fred at all because it's too confusing for them?"

You turned in his arms to face him, which was not an easy feat at 23 weeks pregnant, to look up into his sad eyes as he disclosed his fear.

"It's stupid I know, most people have confused us at some point, even mum still can't tell us apart," he says with a sigh, "but this is different, our baby, I just don't want to confuse them."

"George, sweetheart," you said, reaching up to touch his face, "It might be hard for them at first but I'm sure they'll be able to tell who their daddy is. There will probably be some mistakes and confusion but you're very different, they'll just know."

Poppy Weasley was born in the early hours of a cold November morning and her whole extended family had been completely overjoyed by her arrival, but none more so than her Uncle Fred. Two days later when mother and baby had been discharged from the hospital and the new family of three were settled at home, her grandparents and uncle Fred had been the first to come to meet the little bundle of joy.

"I think she's suspicious of me," Fred says as he delicately holds the little girl in his arms, bundled up in blankets, watching her closely as she stares up at him with a slight frown.

"She's clever then," you tease as you sit beside George on the sofa, tentatively taking a seat as you were still very sore from birth. Fred looks up at you with a mock glare and you can't help but smile as you see him interacting with his niece, chatting and cooing as she wraps her little hand around his finger. You look at George beside you and it seems that all his fears had been momentarily forgotten as he watches his twin and his daughter meeting with misty eyes. You rub his arm a little and he gives you a smile, wrapping his arm around your back as he pulls you gently into him, placing a kiss on your head.

"Still so proud of you," he mumbles quietly, his arm stroking your back as he looks firstly at you and then back to your baby daughter.

Only a few weeks later when Fred was visiting yet again are George's fears completely erased as your sweet little girl starts getting hungry and restless. George had run out for a few things at the shop whilst Fred was on hand to help you but it seemed that he was no replacement for the real thing after all. You'd nipped to the toilet quickly and to get the breast pump you'd left upstairs when Poppy had started crying in her bassinet. Fred had instinctively reached in and gently lifted out his little niece, swaying gently as he cooed at her trying to calm her down but nothing seemed to work. You'd tried to rush and race downstairs, gathering all the parts you needed, but by the time you'd come downstairs, you saw that George had gotten home and was just taking his coat off. He hadn't seen you on the stairs and had stepped into the front room and taken his daughter into his arms without hesitation, cradling her and shushing her in the same way that Fred had only moments ago, only this time she stopped crying instantly.

"She clearly has favourites," Fred jokes as he sits back down on the sofa, watching his brother soothe the little baby. You watch as George simply shrugs, still cooing and shushing his daughter as she whimpers, before saying proudly with a smile, "I'm her dad."

A few years later just after Poppy's third birthday, the entire Weasley family were gathered at George and y/n's house for a summer evening barbecue, with little lawn games and a colouring table set up for the kids.

The younger generation of Weasley's had all been playing nicely when Poppy had accidentally slipped over on the wet grass and had grazed her knee. Immediately bursting into tears, she ran over to where she saw her daddy and ran straight into his arms, sniffling.

"Pops, I'm not daddy," Fred says gently as he tries to get her to look at him, not wanting to upset her further if she realised too late that he wasn't his twin. George had rushed outside once he heard his daughters cries and had watched her as she ran to Fred, anticipating more tears very soon.

To everyone's surprise and amusement, the little girl did not cry more nor get shy and embarrassed by her mistake but instead pulled back and looked up at her beloved uncle Fred and simply said' "you'll do," before worming her way back into his arms.

On Poppy's sixth birthday, they went to the local amusement park and had stopped for pizza and ice cream on the way home, something that was turning into a yearly tradition for the Weasley family. That night they would watch a movie that Poppy had chosen, complete with popcorn and pumpkin juice, just as she's requested. Fred had been working in the shop so that George could take the day off and had visited after the shop had closed, dropping off his niece's presents. She was worn out from her big day and after opening her presents from Uncle Fred, they had all started watching a muggle movie that she'd chosen, something animated that had her completely transfixed to the screen. They had paused the movie quickly so that Poppy could get dressed into her pyjamas and brush her teeth, getting ready for bed. When she returned, she immediately climbed onto the sofa and had began cuddling into Fred's side, her eyes slowly closing as the exhaustion from the day caught up with her.

"Baby, I'm right here," George says delicately from the other couch, again not wanting her to be embarrassed by cuddling up to the wrong twin.

Without missing a beat, Poppy had lifted her head gently, not even looking between the two brothers and had declared, "he's closer."

Truthfully, George's fears about his daughter being freaked out by the concept of her identical dad had been extinguished entirely by the time she could talk. She loved that there were two of her dad, told all of her friends just as much and had even taken to calling Fred 'uncle daddy'.

There'd been a few times that Poppy had mistakenly run to the wrong twin in her haste but it had never fazed her, feeling just as comforted by her strong uncle daddy who loved her just as much as her real daddy did. Other than the few times she's not been paying attention, Poppy had never confused her dad and Uncle Fred, always instinctively knowing who was who, even when they were dressed identically.

"How can you tell us apart baby?" George says as he sits at the kitchen table at the burrow with his mum, dad, heavily pregnant wife, daughter and twin. Molly had called Fred by the wrong name when he'd walked in and little Poppy had been quick to correct her, before running excitedly into her grandad's open arms.

"You smell different," a ten year old Poppy shrugs as she tucks into the food her granny Molly had made for her. You watched on with interest, seeing from a child's perspective how she could tell the twins apart, wondering if it were the same tells as you.

"Smell?" George asks, looking at his daughter in surprise, not expecting that to be her answer.

"Yeah, uncle Fred stinks!" She shouts with a laugh and you couldn't help but laugh along with her. Fred bursts out into a loud laugh before high fiving her across the table.

"It seems she really does have two dads," you'd muttered, sitting down with a cup of tea as you looked upon the scene around you. Fred beamed with pride as did George and you couldn't help but laugh at seeing the little girl sandwiched between the two twins.

When Poppy got married aged 25 to her Hogwarts sweetheart, she'd walked down the aisle linking arms with her dad, who had tearfully but proudly given her away. That night she danced with George in a tender moment that would be imprinted upon your brain forever, both of them swaying to the music. When the song was over, she'd instinctively reached her hand out to Fred and had danced once again with her uncle daddy, never leaving him out.

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader

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northstarscowboyhat · 2 months

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This may be thinking far ahead, but you said Clover definitely wants to have a family in the future. How would Starlo and Ceroba be as grandparents?

Even if it technically is thinking far ahead, you know I am an absolute sap and have thought about grandparents Staroba. Have some scattered HCs and general thoughts!

Whether the kid(s) is adopted or biological (haven't decided) you know Starlo was an emotional mess meeting them. Cried his eyes out the first time he got to hold his grandkid, had to be consoled. Ceroba was very emotional too, but at least outwardly was a bit more calm and lowkey about it.

Starlo's the fun grandpa who you love visiting because he will shower you in endless attention and has the coolest stories. He spoils his grandkid with letting them stay up past their bedtime, extra dessert, doing things they technically aren't allowed to at home (within reason of course). A lot of "don't tell your parent/grandmother".

Ceroba is a lot more lax and less strict, though not as lenient as Starlo is. She has a lot of emotions over being a grandmother and having another young child in her life to help raise and look after. Clover goes to her for help a lot when the kid is a baby, since Clover only had experience with looking after Frisk.

If the kid is a Monster (again, haven't decided) I like to think Ceroba would help them with learning their magic! She's extremely proficient at magic and can easily serve as a good teacher. If the kid is a human, I think she'd still teach them some basic self defense and fighting skills, just so they can ensure they are capable of defending themselves.

Both Starlo and Ceroba love being grandparents, but I feel like they hate being called old LOL. Don't remind them that they're the eldest of the main family or that Clover was 10 when they were adopted and now they're an adult with a kid of their own. Martlet likes teasing them over this.

Starlo is doing everything in his power to ensure the kid is also a cowboy like him and Clover. Ironically, I think Clover would be more chill about it. They want their kid to discover their own interests on their own. Ceroba helps keep Starlo in check LOL

#the cowboy hat yodels #undertale yellow #lucky clover au #staroba

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bingwriterxo · 1 year

Text

the shakespeare exhibit -- drabble 3

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara meets more of your family and learns another secret

warnings: none

word count: 700+

previous part | next part

Cordelia had been put to bed hours ago. You had been given the task by your parents, with the claim that you could get her to fall asleep the fastest, and Tara had watched as you rocked your sister gently in your arms, whispering sweet words to her until her babbles and giggles faded into a peaceful silence.

Maybe, Tara had thought while she stood in the doorway, committing the sight to memory, a baby wouldn’t be so bad right now.

Though the reason for the party was sleeping in her crib upstairs, there were still plenty of people crowded in your ballroom, though you had told Tara that they were all close friends or extended family by that point.

You had been whisked away by a cousin, which left Tara vulnerable to whomever decided to strike up a conversation. And, just as she watched Nate and Eddie begin to march toward her, her line of vision was blocked by your grandparents, who had finally emerged from the wine cellar.

“Hello, deary,” your grandmother said, smiling. “You must be our Y/N’s dear girlfriend.”

Your grandfather stood by his wife’s side silently, and Tara remembered you telling her that he was not too fond of people. She offered him a smile but kept her attention on your grandmother.

“Yes, hi! I’m Tara.” She stuck her hand out, slightly thankful that your grandma decided to shake it rather than pull her into a hug. As nice as they are, I think I’ve had enough hugs for one day.

“It’s lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Y/N has spoken so much about you.” Your grandmother winked. Tara felt herself blush up to her ears.

“She talks about you guys a lot, too! She holds both of you in very high esteem.”

Your grandmother chuckled, and Tara’s ears perked up, realizing that she was who you had gotten your laugh from. “I’m sure she speaks of her grandfather plenty.” She patted her husband on the forearm. “He is, after all, the writer of the two of us, and we all know how much Y/N loves literature.”

Tara turned to your grandfather. “Right, of course. She’s mentioned that you’re a poet.”

Your grandfather’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his work. “Talks about her old man, does she? Yes, yes. In my day, I could write poem upon poem.” He looked at your grandmother. “Most of them were for Jane, of course.”

Tara smiled as your grandmother scoffed lightly. This will be us one day, she thought. I just know it. “I’ve read a few of them,” Tara said, and your grandfather grinned. “They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He stood a little taller and puffed his chest out a bit. “Makes an old man like me feel good, hearing a youngster like you say that.”

“Well, I’m just being honest--” Tara was interrupted by your appearance at her side. You took her hand in yours, beaming at your grandparents.

“Hope these two oldies aren’t boring you, Tar,” you giggled, and your grandmother reached out, swatting you on the shoulder.

“Go on, child,” your grandma said, her tone light. “Go play us a song. Make yourself useful while we speak to your dear girl.”

Play us a song? Tara wondered, her eyebrows furrowing.

You hummed and nodded. “Any requests, my lovely grandmother?”

“Play that one song she likes,” your grandpa answered. “You know…that one song.”

“Ah, yes. ‘That one song’,” you teased. You pulled away from Tara. “Just a moment.” She watched as you crossed the room, settling down on the bench in front of the grand piano that stood in the corner of the room.

Her eyes widened. No way. How many things is this woman hiding from me?

A somber melody filled the room, and all conversations quieted, everyone turning to watch you as you played, your fingers dancing along the keys of the piano like they belonged there.

Tara gulped, her heart beginning to race, a shiver running along her back. Jesus, I’m so in love with her, she thought.

The song began to pick up a bit, and her eyes glanced around the room, seeing your parents sway together and Nate and Eddie sitting still for once, entranced by the tune.

Your eyes closed, your fingers playing faster. You became one with the music, one with the piano, and Tara tried to bite back the smile that pulled at her lips. You looked at home there, on that bench--almost as much as you did when you were explaining literature.

“Oh, I know that look,” your grandfather whispered, and Tara glanced at him. He grinned, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “Welcome to the family, dear girl.” Softly, he patted her on the back. “Welcome to the family.”

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #museum tara #scream 5 #scream 6

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sometimesanalice · 2 years

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Oh Christmas Tree

Summary: Bradley’s never been one to look forward to the holidays, that is until he met you. He’s excited to do everything, including getting his very first real Christmas tree.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, allusions to smut. Minors DNI.

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(What was supposed to be a quick fluffy Christmas fic, somehow turned into this, enjoy!)

The atmosphere at the Hard Deck was livelier than usual, the music seemed more upbeat and the voices a little louder. It was the first time in a while that the entire Dagger Squad was together in one place. News of the success of the Uranium Mission traveled fast and had been keeping them busy in the months that had followed.

Things seemed to settle down a bit as the holidays rolled around, some has dispersed home for Thanksgiving while a few others had been given last minute orders to ship out for a short mission. You’d been dying to take Bradley Bradshaw home to meet your parents in person, but he had been one of the few sent away only set to return the day after Thanksgiving.

You’re sitting across from Natasha at a high top near the pool tables in the back of the bar listening to Jake talk about his visit home, while your boyfriend next to you talks animatedly about something related to his latest mission with Bob.

“I shaved off an extra 5 minutes from the last Trot. Turns out I’m in even better shape than I was the last time I was home for Thanksgiving,” Jake brags smugly taking a swig of his beer from his nearly empty bottle.

“Wait, you come from a Turkey Trot family? That explains so much. Please tell me, you guys wear matching Seresin family shirts for it too,” you tease without remorse. “Oh! Or maybe those turkey leg bobble headbands?”

You hear Bradley snort into his beer as he drops a well-defined arm across your shoulders. He’s wearing one of your favorite Hawaiian shirts from his collection, and you’ve been having a hard time keeping your eyes and hands to yourself.

“Bradshaw! Are you going to let your girl trash talk me like that?” You turn to Bradley to see him smirk with a shrug at Jake’s indignation.

“I mean, if the headband fits,” he replies lifting his bottle up in cheers.

“Darlin’, you wound me. And for the record they don’t match, since we all get to decorate our own with those paints in the little squeeze bottles,” he says pointing his empty bottle at you before turning to Bradley, “And see if I ever save your smug ass again.” He walks away making his way to the bar for another beer.

“Formal petition to change his callsign to Turkey now. Him and Rooster could be the Bird Bros,” Natasha jokes after he’s out of earshot. “What about you, how was your trip home?”

“It was pretty good,” you feel Bradley start playing with the ends of your hair, while he picks his conversation with Bob back up. “Since my sister had the baby, my parents have been leaning into the new grandparent thing pretty hard. So I set to establishing myself as the fun wine aunt, and basically drank cranberry mimosas all day.” You pause to take a sip of your drink, “Which I regretted immediately the next day when my parents decided it was imperative that we all go to their favorite Christmas tree farm as soon as it opened to cut one down together. Baby’s first Christmas all.” You unlock your phone to pull up the folder you made of pictures from the visit, handing over your phone to let her scroll.

“Since they’re flying out to spend Christmas with my sister and her in-laws in Philly, I tried to talk them into an artificial tree. Which is blasphemy where I’m from, I’m pretty sure the state tree is the Douglas Fir. My family takes the tree hunt very seriously, there’s a science to it and everything,” you lean over to swipe past some of the selfies you took to show her the completed tree in your parents sitting room.

“However, as you can see, my attempt to talk them into the lower maintenance, yet slightly ostentatious, fluffy pink tree of my dreams was met with a hard pass,” you say laughing to yourself.

She swipes backwards a couple times on the pictures. “This one is cute, why didn’t you post this photo?” she asks holding your phone up showing a selfie of you at the tree farm.

“Which one? Let me see,” Bradley requests, his conversation with Bob now abandoned. He’s already leaning into you and reaching across the high top with his large hands to take the phone from Nat.

It was a photo of you that Bradley hadn’t seen before. You were pink nosed wrapped up in cozy looking scarf, surrounded by pine trees and grinning into the camera. And his heart swells at the sight of the image before him. It’s just so you.

“You really look pretty,” he states sincerely. He glances at you briefly to see a hint of a blush spread across your cheeks before turning his gaze back to the picture of you.

He’d known you had been just as eager as he was for to him come home with you to meet your parents in person. You had even concocted a plan that involved him to try and help you get your hands on your Aunt Christine’s corn soufflé recipe.

“My mom has tried to get it for years, and she refuses to share it with anyone!” you’d lamented to him one evening after a couple large glasses of wine. “She always says she’ll email it, but she never does!” You gesture wildly. He loved getting to know all sides of you, but two-drink you was a particular favorite of his.

“Mmm. Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep,” he nodded along in solidarity.

“Exactly, Bradley! You get it!” You take another long, deep sip of your Merlot, your feet tucked under you on his couch. “Me with my wiles and you with your Rooster charisma, I think this might be the year! I’ll set the groundwork and you can lay the ruggedly-handsome-impossibly-sexy-American-hero-thing on thick,” he loved how animated you were getting and he was having a hard time keeping the indulgent smile off of his face. “And she’ll fall right into our trap and release the goods all while thinking she’s staring in her own Hallmark movie.” He knew he would do anything for you, what his girl wants she gets. If that involves some light to heavy flirting with your aunt, so be it. He was getting soufflé recipe for you one way or another.

However, those plans were quickly dashed when he got the mission orders at the last minute. His stomach was in knots when it came time to tell you, but you were quick to put him at ease by reminding him there was always next year. “Plus” you’d said, “it gives us a whole year to craft our Stealthy Soufflé Scheme. Although, maybe we can pop up in May or June? I want to show you all the sights, we can even go hiking! And I’m definitely planning on taking you on a beer tour.”

“That sounds like the perfect trip, Sweetheart. I’d love that. I’ll see about getting a request submitted first thing in the morning,” he was already setting a reminder in his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted at work and forget. He wasn’t going to let you down again.

“Oh. That’s probably one I snapped really quick and forgot to send to Bradley. I was probably already spamming him too much as it was,” you answer in response to Natasha’s question. Even though you knew exactly why that one never made it his inbox.

Since you’d be spending the holiday apart, Bradley had requested that you send him pictures throughout your visit so that he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. You had sent him ones of you at the grocery store with your mom, of you holding your niece, a few silly ones fueled by too many champagne heavy mimosas, and some less family friendly shots of you in bed wearing the deep wine-colored lacy lingerie set you had planned to surprise him with. And then a few without the lingerie set too.

You had known he wouldn’t have the best reception, so you sent them as things happened knowing that he’d respond whenever he could. You just wanted them there waiting for him. However, a few days in was getting hard to know what was too much when all you could see were all your outgoing messages to him.

You had felt yourself getting a little self-conscious and started second guessing the things you sent, like the picture from the tree farm. You didn’t want to go overboard and scare him off or make it seem like you were rubbing his face in all the things he was missing while he was on assignment. You had just wanted him to know that you were thinking about him- which was pretty much all the time.

Turning your head to take him in next to you. He’s sitting there with a soft smile on his face while he is tapping away on your phone. When his phone lights up mere moments later, you realize he’d just sent the image to himself and was now paging through the folder looking for others.

“For being a Communications Specialist, you’re really bad about updating your own social media. That one was definitely worthy of making it to the grid,” Nat announces as she slides off the barstool taking Bob with her to go dominate on one of the pool tables.

Bradley hands you your phone back. “You know, I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm. Or even had a real tree for that matter,” he murmurs a bit ruefully when it’s just the two of you, picking at the label of the bottle Natasha had left behind.

“When I was younger we only ever had a fake tree. And then after my mom passed, everything with Mav, and moving around so much I just kind of didn’t ever want to think about it. I never thought to get anything for myself.” He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “I’m really happy you’re sticking around to show me the ropes this year,” he says earnestly, sounding much lighter than before.

The thought of him fending for himself for so long makes your heart hurt. You lean into him pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy you want to spend the day with me,” you tell him brushing your nose against his as you pull away.

“I did my good daughter duties, but flying home during the one of busiest days of the year was enough for me. And I wouldn’t want to subject you to the Richardson’s by going to Philly, my parents call them the Dickardson’s for a reason,” making a face that causes him to laugh.

“We’re going to have the best Christmas together, I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else.” This time when you pull him in for another kiss your lips are eager to meet his. The slide of his mouth against yours never fails to make your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You could spend days kissing Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and never want to break for air. It’s only at the sound of someone’s loud wolf whistle that you break apart as you’re brought back the moment.

“You know, I’m still not over the fact that my girlfriend withheld such ‘compelling content’ from me,” he teases, using air quotes the buzzwords he’s heard you say from listening to one too many of your late night zoom meetings.

“It was the last day! You were getting in before me, and I thought you’d want the real deal instead. And to tell the truth, I didn’t know if I was overdoing it. I didn’t want to make you feel left out,” you explain honestly. You’ve always been the type to keep those insecurities to yourself, but you’ve been trying to do better. He makes you feel safe enough to open up without holding back.

“Sweetheart.” He picks up your hand his mustache brushing the back of it as he places a kiss there. “You could never overdo it. Spam away, send me everything. I love getting those pictures, it makes me feel closer to you. But, I do know how you could make it up to me.” As he sends a mischievous wink your way.

You’re hit with a brief vision of you on your knees before him in that wine-colored set he still has yet to see in person.

“Oh, do you?” You ease off your stool to stand in front of him, his legs automatically widening for you to step in between them.

“Wanna come help me pick out a tree this weekend?” he asks, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to tug you in even closer. “I hear you know a thing or two about picking out the best one,” his eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles broadly at you.

You don’t bother fighting back the grin that takes over your face. “Stick with me, kid,” you say taking his sunglasses from where they rest against his chest and sliding them on, “I won’t lead you astray.”

Bradley had the best afternoon learning the ins and outs of selecting the perfect tree at the tree lot with you.

He had found a tree place with a festive name that was about 30 minutes away, it was probably a bit different than what you were used to, but he hoped you’d be happy with the options there. He had even called in advance to make sure they had the specific variety your parents usually got after texting with your dad to find out what he should be looking for.

He had wanted to pick you up from your apartment, but you had insisted on meeting him at his place since you had an early work meeting scheduled in the morning. And had greeted you with a coffee in hand from your favorite shop when you arrived.

He’d even worn the plaid flannel shirt you had bought for him when you were visiting home for the occasion. When he parked the Bronco in the lot, you had giddily exclaimed, “Bradley, look at all the trees! There’s way more than I thought there’d be. It smells like home!”

Once you were both out of the car you had grabbed his hand threading your fingers between his, and set off like a woman on a mission. He’d felt rather pleased with himself.

The outdoor speakers were playing the local Christmas radio station and there were rows and rows of trees under a few large white topped tents. He loved how seriously you were taking this, and if he wasn’t already totally enamored with you this would have sealed the deal.

You’d taught him how to determine its freshness, “You have to pull a needle off and see if it bends or snaps. If it snaps then it’s already way too dried out and you’re just purchasing a giant match stick.”

From there the came the scent test, “Now sniff the tree, you have to get your face in there. The stronger the tree scent the longer it will last.”

And finally, the aesthetics.

“I like mine a little girthy and on the fuller side, but that’s all a matter of personal preference. You want some gaps, so that the heavier ornaments can hang better, but not too many. And the top has to be straight, no one wants a lopsided tree topper.”

“That’s not the only thing you like full and girthy,” he couldn’t help but let slip out.

“Bradley, there are children here!” you admonished while looking around wide eyed, but that didn’t stop you from grazing the front of his jeans every chance you got.

So, when he managed to find what you excitedly deemed to be the “absolute most perfect tree!”, he couldn’t help but preen his face feeling a bit warm from the attention and praise you showered him with.

He’d hauled the tree up to the check out where it was bundled while he paid, and then carried it over his shoulder out to the Bronco. You’d trailed behind him carrying the wreath you’d picked out humming along with the music.

“Is there such a thing as a competence kink? Because this,” you had mused gesturing to him tying the tree down in the back, his hands tingling, “is definitely doing it for me.” He had just grinned and shaken his head at you, his face heating up a bit. However, he couldn’t help but flex a bit more for your benefit as he finished up.

And when you made him pull off the road less than 10 minutes later, to indulge in that new self-discovery with your mouth around his cock, well that was very much for his benefit.

Now you’re with him at his place. You guys had wrangled the perfect tree into the house and had gotten it set up in front of his windows in the living room near the upright piano he had tucked in the corner. He loved the smell that was filling the room and the way you’d lit up once it was in place. If he had his way, you’d be around all the time.

Bradley could hear you singing along to the Christmas album he had picked up that was playing on his Dad’s old record player as you worked on putting together some hot toddies in the kitchen. You had put him on light duty, and he was determined to make it the best-looking thing you’ve ever seen.

He worked going round and round the Christmas tree, the lights all shining merrily. He took his time making sure to wrap and tuck the lights around the branches, the cozy glow filling his chest with warmth.

But the longer he worked the more he was starting to get worried that he was coming down with a bug or something, his face starting to feel slightly feverish. His throat getting thick and uncomfortable.

He’d noticed it earlier at the tree lot, but didn’t want to give it too much thought. The Navy had ruined his Thanksgiving plans with you and he didn’t want to let you down again. He worked to string lights on a few more branches adamant to push through for you.

“Sweetheart,” he reluctantly called out to you, “I think I might be coming down with something. I’m not feeling too hot, and my throat is kinda scratchy.” The guilt was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach, maybe if he rested now he could keep it from getting too bad.

He turns to see you coming out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs in your hand, your eyes going wide.

He turns back to the tree looking to see if he accidentally fucked something up. It was his first time with a real tree, maybe the lights needed to be strung differently.

“Bradley. Oh my god.”

You had just put the finishing touches on the hot toddies and were already walking out of the kitchen when Bradley had called out to you. Those beverages were quickly abandoned on his coffee table as you propelled yourself towards him.

His face was brightly flushed and his eyes were shade of red that made your own itch in sympathy. You reach up to tug at the collar of the flannel he was wearing to get a better look at the skin of his neck and chest. The scars on his neck were standing out in contrast to his reddened skin.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Even his voice was sounding a bit scratchy. You ignore him in favor for undoing the buttons at the cuff and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, trying to not let yourself get too anxious. “You tryin’ to get me to put these lights up topless like some kind of sexy Santa?”

You shush him as you finally get the sleeve rolled up when your suspicions are confirmed, his thick forearm is absolutely covered in angry looking raised red welts.

“Oh no. Roos, baby. You’re breaking out.” Already pulling him away from the 7-foot issue occupying the living room and heading towards the kitchen, “I think you have pine tree allergy.”

He finally looks away from your face and down to his arm, a deep furrow settling over his features, “Oh fuck.” You get him seated at his oval oak dining table grabbing your phone to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, ‘Oh fuck’,” you repeat back to him eyes skimming the information on the page you clicked into. You’ve always been the type to take charge in a crisis, this would be no different. You’d make sure he’s taken care of the way he needs to be. The way he deserves to be.

“How’s your breathing feel? Is your throat feeling tight or like it’s closing up?” you ask looking up at him.

His red-rimmed honey eyes seem to shift focus like he’s lost in thought for a brief moment.

“Rooster.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, baby,” he says a bit bashfully. “I’m used to being the one levelheaded in stressful situations, but you should see the intensity on your face. I think you coulda been a pilot.”

“Bradley, I’m flattered. Truly,” you’ve learned that he isn’t the type to say things he doesn’t mean and you respect the hell out of what he does. “Although I’m sure there are a few more qualifications I’d have to pass than that,” you reply lightly, petting the back of his hand resting on the table. “But I need you stick with me here. I just need to figure out if we need to get you to the ER or not.”

He nods. “It’s a little thick, but not like it’s going to close up. And really scratchy, ‘s all.”

“Ok, that’s good. That’s good,” you repeat again more to yourself than him.

You love this man so much, and he deserves the world. This is the last thing you would have wanted for him and his very first, and last, real tree.

You can still hear the record playing in the background as you try not to gnaw on the inside of your cheek working to put your game plan together.

After firing off a quick text to Jake, you quickly pop upstairs to Bradley’s medicine cupboard, hoping that he has some antihistamines tucked away in there. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see the pink box, grabbing it you tear off a couple squares from the silver lined sheet to bring back to him.

He’s still sitting where you left him at the dining table. He’s slumped down in the chair his mouth pulled down at the corners, and you think it’s probably because he’s not feeling the greatest right now. You hand him the meds and a fetch him a glass of water, watching as the tendons of his throat flex as they work to swallow the pills down. The red welts have finally made an appearance there too, and are an angry contrast to his usually golden skin.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, hmm?” You bend down to catch his eyes with your and holding out our hands to him. He nods once taking your smaller hands in his as he lets you pull him up.

You help him to unbutton and remove the flannel shirt trying to avoid further contact with the hives on his body, not wanting to cause him anymore discomfort. Once his wide chest and arms are uncovered, you work his jeans down his thick thighs leaving him in his tight black boxer briefs. There’s nothing more than you love than being up close with Rooster’s body, but right now you’re on a mission and can’t be distracted by all the skin before you.

While you’re still feeling concerned for him, you can feel your anxiety starting to settle a bit from where it was at earlier. You’ve got a plan, you’ve already checked off a few things, and you’ll be able to take a breath once Bradley is taken care of.

He’s ruining everything with you. First Thanksgiving and now Christmas.

How the fuck did he not know he was allergic to pine trees? He’s 35, he should known those kinds of things by now. Shouldn’t he?

He is frustrated as fuck laying on top of the king-sized bed in his darkened bedroom, the stinging of the hives on his arms and upper body were driving him crazy. God, his eyes itched and burned. Although, he couldn’t tell if it as from the reaction to the tree or from fighting the sudden urge to cry for the first time in a very long time.

The afternoon was not going as he had envisioned it. He wanted to sing some carols loudly while getting tipsy off hot toddies with you. Dance with you in between hanging ornaments on the tree. Maybe fuck you under the tree if he played his cards right, he wanted to be the one to get your tinsel in a tangle.

All he had wanted was to make you happy. You weren’t spending Christmas with your family, and he didn’t want you to miss out on anything being in California with him instead. He was really excited about the holiday for the first time in what felt like forever, and it had everything to do with you.

“Do you have any oatmeal here?” You had asked him not too long ago, and it was all he could do to point you in the right direction as the guilt was eating away at him. Once you had found it, you had sent him away to go upstairs to get him further away from the tree. His strong, capable, and pretty girlfriend was left to deal with the mess downstairs without him.

He could hear the whir of the blender and wondered what you were up to. Sulking at the fact that all he could do is wait for the antihistamines to kick in, and hope that he’d be feeling better soon so that he could help you take care of things.

“Bradley? Baby, are you awake?” You entered the dimly lit room cautiously, approaching him gingerly on the bed and holding a large bowl with something fluffy and powdery looking in it. He hadn’t heard you come up the stairs.

He loved the sound of your voice. He loved it in the morning when it was thick with sleep, how excited you got when you were talking about something you were passionate about, and he especially loved the breathy whispers and words of encouragement from you in his ear late at night when he was moving so deep within you. What he didn’t love was being the reason you were so anxious, that he was at fault for why your tone was so laced with concerned.

“Yeah,” although he was starting to feel sluggish, “’m still awake.” He felt your cool hands on his face and leaned into your soothing touch, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I’m going to make you an oatmeal bath,” you informed him gesturing to the bowl in your hand. “From what I’ve been reading online that should help calm down the hives, hopefully stop them from spreading anymore.’

“Okay, Sweetheart,” he sighed. He can hear how pitiful he sounds, but right now his girl is the only thing that is making him feel good, and he will do anything you ask of him.

You set about turning the taps on for the large tub in the bathroom, twisting the handles to get the water to come out at the right temperature. Once you were satisfied, you swirled in the oat powder you had made watching as the water turned cloudy, then headed back into the bedroom to get Bradley.

“Let’s get you in the tub so you can soak for a bit, yeah?” He looks so miserable alone stretched out on the bed. “It’s not too hot, and it should help you feel better,” you help him to sit up placing a kiss to the lines of the scars on his cheek trying to comfort him.

Ever the soldier, he dutifully follows you into the bathroom. Once he is stripped of his briefs and comfortably situated in the milky mixture, his eyes flutter closed as he reclines back, leaning his head against the ledge of the tub. You move kneel on the floor next to him running your fingers through his sun-streaked waves.

Your little pocket of peace is disturbed a few minutes later by the ding of your phone.

“Jake just got here,” you announce filling him in on the next part of your plan, “He’s going to help me with the tree.”

“’posed to be my job,” Bradley sulks making a petulant sound in his throat. You can’t help but let out a gentle tsk while fighting back a small smile at his response.

“I just want you to relax here and let the oatmeal do its thing. I’m going to get things wrapped up downstairs it shouldn’t take too long, and then I’ll come back to check on you.”

“Mmhm, fine,” he sighs as you press a kiss to his forehead.

You let Jake in and he is quick to jump in taking over by unwinding the lights off from the partially lit tree. He’s even quicker to haul the massive thing out of the house and into the back of his truck, as the new owner of the 7-foot Noble Fir. After the tree is deposited, he heads back in and helps you coil the lights back up so they’re not in a tangled mess on the floor making some light small talk because he can tell your mind is elsewhere.

On his way out the door he shoots you a cocky salute, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face. “You can thank my new Trot PR for how quickly I was able to run back to my place after I got your SOS text to get here as quickly as I did, Darlin’,” he drawls.

You flip him off, but tell him to text you what meals he’d like you to make and bring over later in the week as thanks for his help. And with a quick kiss to his cheek, you shoo him out the door wanting to get back to your boyfriend.

After he leaves, you break out the vacuum and work on getting the needles off the ground before moving on to the laundry. You grab the pile of Bradley’s clothes from the floor in the kitchen where you had left them before stripping down to your underwear, throwing everything in the washer and turning it on to get rid of any potential lingering irritants.

You make you way back upstairs, stopping to slip on one of Bradley’s old UVA t-shirts and grabbing him a loose pair of navy sweatpants, before going in to check on him. He is still there soaking his head tilted back and eyes closed, just as you had left him. Thankfully the hives have seemed to stop their spread leaving his face untouched. His neck, chest, and arms still bearing the brunt of his allergic reaction.

You gently knock on the door to announce your presence, not wanting to startle him. “You ready to come out now, baby?” Before him you had never been a pet name person, but now all you wanted to be a source of comfort in his life. A soft place for him to land.

“Yeah,” he turns his head towards the sound of your voice, “I think I might be getting a bit prune-y, but that felt really good. Thank you, Sweetheart.” He has finally opened his eyes and looking right at you, with a smile small and soft, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You’re trying not to read into it too much, not wanting to let your anxiety get the best of you. You help him up from bath and use the handheld to first shower him off, grabbing a fluffy towel to help gingerly pat him dry. As he bends to pull on the sweatpants you had brought in you turn to rinse out the remaining oatmeal residue from the tub. He presses a kiss to the back of your head as he passes by you to make his way back to the bedroom.

By the time you’re done he has already climbed into bed, the comforter on your side already pulled back as he reaches out for you to get in with him. The white percale sheets you had helped him pick out were cool and luxuriously soft to the touch, and you feel yourself release the breath it felt like you’d been holding since you entered the living room holding those long forgotten hot toddies.

Bradley is quick to lace your fingers together and tuck his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his mustache ticking the soft skin of your throat there. For all of his golden retriever energy, he is soaking up your affection and attention like a lap cat as you slowly rub your free hand up and down his broad back.

However, he’s still entirely too quiet. Your lips press tightly together on their own accord as you begin to think that there’s something more on his mind that he’s not sharing with you than just the effects of the hives and double dose of Benadryl.

You’re about to speak up when he beats you to it, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I just wanted you to feel at home and now I’ve ruined Christmas.” You’ve never heard his voice sound so small.

Oh. Oh no.

“Bradley, please look at me.”

You lean back a bit as he removes his face from the spot it was tucked into and study his beautiful yet troubled looking eyes. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Please tell me you haven’t been spiraling thinking you’ve ruined anything.” He looks away, and you feel your brows scrunch together.

You cup his cheek in your hand, running your thumb down the cleft of his chin, “I love you so much and we’re going to have such a wonderful Christmas together, a tree is a nonissue here, baby. You matter more to me. I hope you know that.” His gaze finally meets yours and you continue on, “I need you to hear me. You’ve got absolutely nothing to apologize for. Nothing is ruined and nothing that happened today is your fault. Ok?” Nodding your head, needing for him to understand and let go of his misplaced guilt.

You see the exact moment he absorbs and believes everything you’re saying to him, his shoulders releasing the tension that had gathered there. “Ok, I hear you.” You lean into him to place a tender kiss on his lips. “I love you so much,” he breaths against your mouth.

“I love you too,” you say pressing one more lingering kiss to his lips before encouraging him to settle his head back down again. He reaches for your hand, guiding it to his hair, prompting you to comb your fingers through his curls.

“Now that we’ve settled that, how are you feeling? What else can I do to help?”

“You’ve done so much for me,” he murmurs kissing your neck gently. “’M just tired now and want to hold you for a bit. The Benadryl is starting to kick my ass.” He pauses for a moment, “But maybe we can order some pizza, Sweetheart? And put on one of those Christmas movies you like? Y’know the ones where the people live in a town is named something like Tinselville and their dogs fall in love?” He asks his voice sounding a bit boyish and hopeful.

You can’t help but let out a giggle because, really, his description is not too far off. You can feel his smile against the side of your neck as you turn the tv on.

“You can have whatever you like, handsome boy. Pizza and Oscar quality Christmas content, it is.” You grab your phone unlocking it and opening up to the delivery app, when Bradley plucks it from your hand tossing it to the side and placing his in yours instead.

“Order from mine instead, it’s my turn to take care of you,” he states slinging his arm low over your hip.

You click the button on the side to wake his phone up only to see your face smiling back at you on his lockscreen. Nose bright from the cold, surrounded by trees, and wrapped up in a scarf your mom had loaned to you since you hadn’t brought any practical winter-wear home with you.

It’s the picture that Bradley has sent himself the other night at the bar, and you’re flooded with a rush of affection for the man nestled against you. You notice his wallpaper is still the picture of you and him from this Halloween when you’d surprised everyone by dressing up as him, he’s kissing you squarely on the mouth while grabbing a handful of your ass. It was one of your favorites too.

You’d just finished submitting the order, when a text from Jake comes through, and you roll your eyes.

Those 5th Gens didn’t get you, but you’re taken out by a fucking a Christmas Tree. Would hate to see what one of those tree shaped car fresheners would do to you.

You’re not going to let him come for your boyfriend, even in playful roasting, when you just managed to picked his spirits up. Not tonight, Hangman. And you set to typing your response with your one free hand, the other still carding through Bradley’s curls.

Listen up, Lieutenant Turkey Trot. I was planning on surprising you with a bottle of that Texas bourbon you like when I swing by with the food later this week, but now that’s up to you. Do with that what you will... xx

Not bothering to wait for a response you hand Bradley back his phone only to see it light up again. “Lieutenant Turkey Trot,” he snorts, “Damn. Hangman apologized. And he says he wants a lasagna and your chicken and dumpling casserole.”

Southern men are too easy. Nothing is as important to them as food and their mamas. You smile smugly to yourself, making a mental note to go to remember to stop by that speciality liquor store by your place.

The food is delivered not too much later, you and Bradley eat in bed the box sitting between you while making fun of the plot of the movie you had turned on. You can tell the Benadryl is staring to win when Bradley’s running commentary tapers and his breathing begins to even out.

“It’s ok to go to sleep, baby.”

“Just resting my eyes, wanna see if they figure out why the poinsettias aren’t blooming.”

“You should get your rest,” you gently press, “I’ll set record it and you can find out tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna stay the night, right?” He asks sleepily as he concedes and begins to burrow down into his bed.

“Of course. If you want me here, I’ll stay.” Truth be told, you liked his bed better than yours. You’d even went back to the shop where you’d helped Bradley pick out his sheets from and bought the same percale set for your place in an attempt to help you sleep better.

You set an alarm for earlier than you’d like, remembering you have a meeting first thing in the morning. “I might have to leave a bit earlier than usual though,” you mention softly, “Since I’ll need to go to my place before I have to head in to the office.” You hadn’t originally planned on staying over due to your early morning and now you were kicking yourself for not grabbing a few things to keep in your car just in case.

“Yes. Stay,” he murmurs and reaches out to you, wrapping his arm around your midsection and pulling you to his chest. You let your fingers trace lightly down his forearm, feeling the hills and valleys caused by the welts that litter his arm. He lets out a hum of contentment in response, you’re pressed so close to him you can feel the vibrations of the sound from his chest against your back.

You think you’ve finally lost him to sleep when he mumbles already half gone, “Why don’t you keep more things here?” You can feel his warm breath against the back of your neck.

“How much were you thinking? You saying you want to share a drawer with me?” you lightly tease.

“Bring it all,” he sighs, “Want you here.”

The sound of his soft snores filling your ear only a couple minutes later.

You don’t bring up Bradley’s half-asleep musings, you won’t hold him to anything said under the influence of the antihistamines. While the thoughts of moving in and living with Bradley made your heart beat a bit faster, you kept those hopes tucked away just for yourself.

It was now a week after the pine tree debacle, Bradley’s hives were quick to clear up after a couple days and a few oatmeal baths later. Your skin was still reaping the benefits of the oatmeal too after he managed to coax you in with him one evening.

He had texted you earlier in the day asking for you to swing by his place after work. You knew the door would be unlocked for you, and you let yourself in.

“That you, Sweetheart?” He called out from nearby, you can hear the sounds of some crooner singing in the background.

“Yeah, it’s me." You set your purse and work tote down before bending to undo your heels at the door. “Hey, I was thinking on my way over here, I bet lots of places still have artificial trees left in stock that we could get. I feel like we need a Christmas redo.” You get one off and begin working on the other, “I was planning on getting one to liven up my place too, maybe I can find one of those ostentatious pink ones I tried to talk my parents into getting and fulfill a lifelong dream.” You say that last part with a little laugh.

You finally win the battle against the top buckle of your cute shoe finally kicking it off and wiggling your toes out, “Ooh! Maybe we can go to that cute cocktail bar off 17th afterwards? One of my coworkers was talking about their new seasonal drinks today and it seems festive.”

You fish your phone out of your purse and make your way to the living room, “That is if you didn’t have anything planned.”

Your voice trails off at the end because when you round the corner you find Bradley in his living room looking very proud with a self-satisfied smile on his face already standing next to a Christmas tree.

A very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas tree.

You stand there entirely stunned. The juxtaposition of your tall, handsome naval aviator next to this truly over the top frosted tree has your brain working overtime. The entire room is cast in a dreamy glow from many strands of white lights he had already spun around it.

“I still feel bad that about what happened the other weekend, and I wanted to make it up to you. At the bar, I heard you telling Phoenix that you always wanted a pink tree, so I hope this is similar to what you hand in mind.” He seems to be getting a bit nervous now, since all it seems you can do is just blink at him. He reaches around into his back pocket pulling out a small tube, “I even got some of those scent stick things to tuck in if you-”

He doesn’t get to finish since you’ve launch yourself at him.

“Bradley!” He catches you easily with one arm as you begin peppering his face with kisses.

His laugher fills the room and his grin lights up his face at your reaction, “Are you happy, Sweetheart?”

“I’m the happiest! Oh my god! Are you for real?” you exclaim in between kisses. You stop the assault on his face to take it in your hands, “Seriously though, there is nothing to feel bad about. You’re what matters most to me. I mean, yes, I absolutely love this. But you should have what you like too.”

He takes a step back, with you still in his arms and propped up on his hip. He thoughtfully studies the tree in front of you both. “Yep. This is definitely the perfect tree,” he declares proudly, “It’s full and girthy. Has some good gaps, and look at that top. Straight as an arrow. Although we might need to get some more decorations for it, but I got it started.”

You look from him back to the tree puzzled, since you don’t see anything on it aside from the lights. He walks you both closer, and pulls off what looks to be a strand of curling ribbon with a shiny silver object dangling from it from a branch on the tree.

A key.

He sets you down back on your own two feet, holding you close against his body bringing his forehead to yours. “I meant it, Sweetheart. Bring it all. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here. All the time. With me. You’re the only thing on my list this year, you’re all I want. Will you let me give you more than a drawer?” His honey brown eyes gazing at you hopefully.

You already knew what your response would be even before he pulled that key from off the tree, and the answer must be all over your face because Bradley’s face breaks into a beam as he picks you up and spins you around.

The choice has always been easy with him, it’ll always be a yes.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Causally hyper-fixating over all things TGM at bradshawburner

You can find the prequel to this story here!

Find out what happens during their second Christmas together here!

You can read more of my stories here!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #hello december playlist challenge

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nicodrawings · 1 year

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Dump time featuring Billie Morales aka Silly Billie

Update 2: oh! Also the first two illustrations are based on Yotsuba art!

Update: ok HC time, if you wanna know more keep reading as usual.

BILLIE SECTION

-I made Billie 5 years old.

-I’ve mentioned this before but Billie has Asperger’s.

-She didn’t talk until she was like 3 going on 4.

-Her nickname is "silly billy"

-Miles always says "how's my favorite girl in the whole wide world?" when he comes home from school on the weekends.

-Miles is a doting big brother and helps take care of her as well as connecting with her interests.

-As much as she loves her parents, she thinks the world of Miles. She's up under him the most, especially when she's over stimulated, stressed or sleepy. His heartbeat calms her.

-She has a limit to physical contact and taps when she’s ready to let go. She usually only hugs her family. Her and Ganke do hand touches instead of hugs.

-The family helps her navigate her environment and her emotions as well as socializing but never push anything that makes her uncomfortable. They always ask questions and have special routines to help her.

-A part of her routine is on Saturdays they go to the park so she can see the pigeons.

-Miles does not like pigeons, but tolerates them for Billies sake.

-They also have special songs for her like "🎶when you walk across the street take ur eyes off your feet🎶" to remind her to look both ways and pay attention when walking across the street since she can get distracted easily.

-The songs they use also attach her to music. So whenever they go to ganke he plays the piano for her and they make songs up and when she hears a song she likes she starts stimming and wiggling.

-She also takes interest in drawing because she sees Miles drawing and they draw animals and watch Steve Irwin on Saturdays too.

-She doesn't understand figure of speeches so if you say "don't sweat it" she would be like "...sweat what?"

-she doesn’t show a lot of emotions unless she’s feeling something intense.

-She rarely sees Miles in superhero mode in public but when she does she just goes “SPIDER!” and smiles and he waves at her.

-Moral of this story, she is loved.

HOBIE

-He lives with his grandparents in the Bronx area (I’m not sure which side yet tho).

-He loves his grandparents very much.

-One time at a punk rock concert a wise man told him “the most punk thing to do is to take care of yourself, don’t be reliant on the system to do so, cuz they ain’t”

-He told his grandpa the following day and they had a heart to heart about it considering that Hobie was very depressed at the time.

-So with that being said, health is incredibly important to him.

-Some ppl tease him and call him “straight-edge” but it don’t bother him much.

-Hobie officially meets the other spiders when he’s 16.

-Clicks with Gwen and Miles almost immediately.

-Especially Miles, Peter always jokes and says that they were definitely brothers in their past lives.

-Gwen and Hobie bond over music.

-Gwen gets the crush first.

-But unlike Miles she’s more forward and doesn’t wait a billion years so she’s asks him out.

-Hobie says yes.

-Only one that knows how to drive by the time he’s 18.

OTHER STUFF

-Gwen’s relationship with her father just…never gets better in my AU. He’s just an ass and as far as Gwen is concerned they’re not family, they’re just related. With that being said, although it’s never acknowledged, Gwen definitely sees Peter as a father figure in her life. She even has him as her top emergency contact. Peter started to understand this when she was 16, he never questioned it and sees her as his oldest daughter. When she’s had really bad arguments with her father she goes to Peters and spends the night.

-Peter and MJ’s home is open to all the spiderkids. No questions asked.

-Peter and MJ always say “On our taxes we have one kid” when people ask them how many kids they have.

-When Peter gets home he sees how many pairs of shoes are at the door then yells “how many kids are in the house?" They usually yell in response which gives him an idea as to how many kids are there.

-On average there’s no less than 2.

-One time he asked and a really deep voice responded along with the kids.

-It was Venom.

-All the spiders have their own therapist’s but every other weekend there’s a group therapy session for kids with powers funded by S.H.E.I.L.D. It’s not required that they go but it’s open for them regardless, just sign up and come in.

-Ganke donates some of his legos to the program and helps assist sometimes with running it since it’s not ran in the best shape.

-This connects to a bigger problem of helping hero’s with their mental health and stability, especially when they decide to retire.

-If you read the other AU list I had, this is the reason why Ganke switches his major to Social Work when he goes to college.

NICKNAMES

Peter’s nicknames for the kids:

Miles-“Junior/Little Man”

May-“Mayday”

Gwen-"Gwennie Pie”

Ganke-“Goober”

Hobie-“Hobie” (obviously)

Anya-“Ani”

Ganke’s nicknames:

Friends-“Gee” judge calls him “G-money”

Miles’s mom-“Honey”

Ganke’s mom-“Gee-Chan”

The boy that bullies him AKA Sean “Gay-ke”

Peter-“Goober” (as I’ve said before)

Venom and Eddie-“Boy”

Miles’s for when he’s feeling affectionate-“Cariño”

Anyway that’s all I got for now! If you have any questions about my AU please feel free to ask away. I love talking about it as you can see.

#my drawings #artist on tumblr #art #digital art #illustration #ultimate spider man #spiderman #miles morales #peter parker #spider gwen #gwen stacy #spider punk #hobart brown #ganke lee #billie morales #au

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torchflies · 12 days

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I love that Ice, Mav, and Sli went from having 1 kid to losing said kid to gaining a handful of kids AND grandkids...good thing they have a big house

Exactly!!! Ily Nonny!!! 💜💜💜 Jake comes with five little tagalongs. Sure, most of them are in their twenties, but these kids have never known parental figures that didn't kick the shit out of them or disappoint them — other than Jake of course and Javy’s parents. The first time Joey looks up into the stands at a cheer comp and sees grandparents in the stands cheering for her, she almost starts crying. Bug actually starts crying at her barrel-racing event and she tries to pass it off as being delighted about winning a saddle.

Mack isn't sure how to react when he gets gifted the exact set of super-expensive markers he'd been talking to Ice about saving up for. Gunny is used to being the tallest of the bunch, despite looking like he's made of pipe-cleaners, so when Slider picks him up to dunk him in the pool, he squeaks and sputters in happy surprise.

Ree takes care of people, that's just what he does. He also has a pretty severe case of asthma, he developed it as a teenager and he takes medication every day now. One day he forgets his spacer while coming over for family dinner (the attachment onto his inhaler to hold his medication in place so he can breathe it in easier) and he resigns himself to just going without. Jake is the only one who carries a spare and he won't be by for another couple of hours, he's just about to take his first puff when he gets hit in the chest with... a spacer, flung at him by Mav from across the room.

“Aren’t you supposed to use a spacer to get all the medication, Nurse Seresin?” Mav teases and Ree flips him off, a little more teary than he was before. 🫁

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #i love this so much #ron slider kerner #these old men are dad-shaped #Jake and the Swamp Chickens #series: it runs in the family #slicemav

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adelliet · 1 year

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JOEL MILLER X F!READER

Birthday gift

Summary: It's your birthday today and you have a family reunion, where is of course, invited your boyfriend Joel, who wanted to give you the biggest gift from they all.

Warnings: 18+, teasing, unprotected sex piv, little public sex ig?, rough

A/N: I am sorry of there are maybe some mistakes, my first language isn't english! Sending love <3

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You sat cultured at a large rectangular table where your family sat around you. Everyone was here, your parents, your grandparents, your cousins, aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers...everyone.

You were glad that everyone could find time to celebrate your 25th birthday together like this. You don't even remember the last time you celebrated someone's birthday like this, so you really appreciated it and after all, you only turn 25 once.

So far everything has gone smoothly. Everyone was laughing and telling each other their life stories about what they experienced when you were not together. The only thing you were worried about was Joel, who was sitting right across the long table from you, and he hadn't stopped staring at you ever since you brought everyone's food to the table.

His look clearly indicated that he was up to something, that he wanted something. But you tried to ignore your boyfriend and focus on the moment you had together now. You see Joel quite often, after all, he is your neighbor and since you are also partners, it is clear that you meet often, so of course you appreciate his presence at your celebration, but after all, you prefer your family in this situation.

Whenever your eyes landed on Joel, he had that mischievous smirk on him that always meant something fishy. You've learned that this often means that he imagines you doing unchristian things with Joel. But you tried to clearly indicate to him with your eyes that this is a family gathering and now is really not a good time for it. You had no idea if he couldn't get it from your looks, or if he's just a guy and didn't get it either, but still, the smirk still remained on his face, and it didn't go away, like it was tattooed.

"And honey, how are you two doing anyway?" suddenly your mom asked you and all heads turned towards your face causing you to feel slightly anxious. Joel always knew what to do at events like this, so he shifted all the attention everyone was giving you now to himself. "We're doing great! We even have our six month anniversary next week" Joel saved you and everyone started whispering about Joel right away, but he didn't mind, instead he was happy to help you. Joel has no idea how lucky you are to have him.

“Okay I have some other food in the kitchen, so I am just gonna bring it” you cut off the chatter and got up from the table to go to the kitchen. As you walked past Joel, you suddenly heard "I'm going to help her". You smiled a little at the fact that Joel was going with you to the kitchen alone, but you still kept an eye on discipline and how nerve-wracking it would be to have a cojitus right next door in front of your family.

When you walked in, you started taking the bowles out of the drawers, which were too high even for you. You went all the way up on your tiptoes to reach them when a boy's muscular hand handed you that one chosen bowl, very carefully and slowly. "Little struggling with that huh?" he said provocatively and you hit him gently on the shoulder as you took the bowl from him. "Shut up!" you laughed and placed the bowl on the table, right next to the cookies. You were about to open the package when you felt an unexpected movement behind you. Suddenly, there were two massive hands on your hips that traveled up to your stomach and back to your hips. Joel was standing right behind you placing soft kisses on your neck which made you giggle a bit because it tickled.

At first you thought it was just innocent touching when you started to feel a dangerous pressure in what looked like a lump in your ass. On top of that, Joel's touches were starting to slowly lose control, so you decided to calm Joel down. "Stop it” you said but not angry or aggressive, just in a warning tone so that he would really stop.

But Joel didn't listen to your words, he didn't react to them in any way and continued what he was doing, even more strongly. The bulge in your ass began to grow, and Joel's touches moved downwards under your pants. At that moment, you had to do much more than just words.

You moved his hands away from your body and turned around so you were facing Joel. You were small compared to him, after all he was almost 20 centimeters taller, but that never stopped you from going after Joel. "Joel! My whole family is sitting over there and-" you wanted to continue, but your gaze narrowed at Joel's already rather erect cock, which was directly trapped in his pants and wanted to be free so badly.

Staring at the huge bulge in his pants for a moment, you swallowed and looked back up at Joel, who had his smirk back on. "No Joel! Not now" "Come on" he tried to convince you and placed his arms on your hips again, while gently stroking your neck.

You tried to dodge his mouth, but he still held you and you had no room to dodge anymore. "Joel, later okay?" So you tried to be kind and tactful to him, so that after everyone leaves he can do whatever he wants with you. But Joel is stubborn. "Give me a few minutes, please" he said persuasively as he subtly began to suck your neck creating purple spots. "A few minutes? Joel that's-" "5 minutes" he cut you off, alpha male energy emanating from him. He confidently said this number, which not only interested and surprised you, but also made you laugh a little. "You would bring us both to orgasm in 5 minutes?" you asked in disbelief and when Joel heard your ironic voice he stopped sucking on your neck and pulled away from him so he could look you in the eye.

“What? You don't believe me?” he asked you with a smile and his hands ended up on your back, specifically your juicy ass, which Joel just had to squeeze. You jumped a little at this unexpected move, but you still tried to answer his question. "No and I don't even want to find out" you retorted and wanted to turn back to the table so you could finally pour the chocolate chip cookies into the bowl.

But Joel didn't let you go, he held you tightly by your hips so that you couldn't go anywhere and you had to stand in one place and look at Joel, who was throwing his hungry face at you. "Bet?" he said in such a sexy and rough voice that you would have gone after him long ago, but you're not alone and you don't want to risk your family catching you fucking your boyfriend a few steps away on your birthday. You can save that for the evening, as a conclusion.

“Joel, just try to hold it okay?” “I can't look what you do to me” he said, still looking at you but you know what was he talking about. He was talking about that huge bulge in his pants that was really trying to come out and fuck you hard right on the table behind you. Joel didn't care that your family was right behind you, that everyone was there and you'd sink to the floor in shame if you got caught, no, he didn't give a single shit.

“It's not my fault” you tried to defend yourself and resist his accusation that his now standing with a hard cock was your fault. You wouldn't say if you were somehow provoking him, or teasing him, but you were just breathing. You weren't even wearing any revealing clothes.

"Actually, it is, if you weren't so fucking beautiful..." he said the last words to your neck, which he bit and sucked again, but no longer gently, but very aggressively and passionately. You had to sigh at his biting the sensitive spot on your neck, but you tried to be quiet so as not to attract attention.

“Joel, let’s leave it for the evening-” “Give me 5 minutes, I swear” he mumbled into your ear and returned to your neck, this time from the other side where you still didn’t have the purple pacifiers, which Joel had to correct immediately. His kissing on your neck made you hot and excited, you stopped noticing your surroundings for a moment, how good you felt. You couldn't control yourself and started moaning quietly, making Joel even more turn on.

“Oh fuck, don't do this to me” he groans, as he heard your heave girly breathing, that Joel loved. Whenever he hears you like that he can't help but go after you whether you like it or not and he did that now. He grabbed your rear thighs and lifted you up so that your hips were level with his. You automatically wrapped your legs around Joel, and all your thoughts and good conscience about leaving naughty things for the evening suddenly dissolved and you, you don't even know how, glued your lips to his.

You stopped kissing Joel for a moment, leaning a little back from his face. “You said 5 minutes?” you assured yourself with a devilish smirk on your face. Joel immediately nodded in agreement. “Okay…” you whispered to yourself, setting the timer on your watch. As soon as you set them, Joel came after you like a wild animal again. Now it remains to be seen whether he can do it or not.

There was no going back now. Both of you were glued together not only by lips but also by body, Joel held your thighs tightly and quickly walked to the kitchen counter which was at least more covered from the room where everyone was sitting.

As soon as he put you on the line, Joel started taking off his pants and you helped him. You didn't even blink and Joel's hard cock was already in the air, twitching with anticipation. As soon as he had his flesh out, Joel slid his massive hand under your dress where he grabbed your red sexy panties and pulled them down to your ankles with a sharp movement. But during all these movements, you never once stopped the passionate kisses.

Even though your naturals were practically completely bare now, you were still waiting, or rather, Joel was waiting. But he couldn't hold it for too long, so he took you by the hips with both hands and pulled you in such a way that he had a good passage inside and at the same time so that you wouldn't fall. Meanwhile, you had one arm wrapped around Joel's muscular neck and the other leaning against the kitchen counter from behind to keep you from toppling over.

Joel stopped kissing you and looked down at your legs and his bare cock. Both of you breathed excitedly and roughly, tensely waiting to finally be inside each other. Joel tried to coordinate himself so that he could finally enter you while you tried to help him by opening your legs more. Joel grabbed his cock and gently slid it into your entrance, causing a gasp not only from you but also from him. You were so tight. You wrapped Joel's cock right up and he fucking loved it.

You started quietly moaning his name, as he started thrust into you with his huge dick, making you throwing your head back. Your whole body were bouncing to the rhytm of Joel's thrusting, whichc started getting faster every second. You both were groaning and moaning, but you cannot control your voice anymore, as you were focused on Joel inside of you.

You started moaning louder but luckily Joel covered your mouth so no one could hear you but him. He didn't look at your face, but only at your body, at your breasts trapped in your clothes, at your legs that rippled like the sea every time his pelvis touched yours.

His breath was warm and strong, you could feel it through your clothes to your cold chest. The wet and juicy sounds were getting louder, but you couldn't control either. Your vagina was filling with juice, and Joel's cock was starting to lose its hold. Every time Joel gets damn close, he starts doing incredible and unimaginable things with his hips. He stops controlling them and lets them do whatever they want, do whatever it takes to get into you. He didn't even pull his dick completely out of you, just a few inches at a time. You felt yourself getting damn close, the sensation of releasing liquid onto Joel's cock was starting to rise, your legs stiffened and your toes curled.

"Do you want to help there?" suddenly you heard your mom yelling at you and you curiously looked into the kitchen but you were perfectly hidden. You wanted to answer, but you couldn't because the feeling of pleasure and orgasm kept fast approaching. "N-no!" you finally yelled, very jerky. You could feel Joel's sneer as you answered your mom.

"Joel I-" "I know baby" he whispered in pleassure, his voice low and deep like a husky. He started feeling his cock twitching and his veins popping, as his precum started getting out of his tip. You both knew that you're not far from your orgasm.

Few more thrusts and you sighed loudly and very softly as a warm feeling enveloped you and you finally relaxed your entire body, including your walls that were wrapped tightly around Joel's cock the whole time. Joel moaned loudly too, right after you as his cock stopped moving inside you so he could squirt his cum into you. Joel's cum and your juice mixed together like some new potion.

You panted heavily trying to catch your breath. Your heart pounded continuously and the blood in your veins began to rush through your body. Both your and Joel's chests moved up and down rapidly to finally get enough oxygen into your lungs. Suddenly, you heard a beeping from your phone, that Which clearly indicated that 5 minutes had passed. Joel laughed proudly when he heard the alarm clock, it gave him confidence and proved to you that he really can do anything. "See?" he said haughtily and you stared at Joel's face in disbelief. He was right, he even made it before 5 minutes. He is incredible. Literal god of sex

"Are you sure you don't want to help?" you heard your mom again which made you laugh a little as she asked again. "Yes mom, don't worry" you reassured your mother again, this time in a normal tone. It wasn't long before you were both breathing calmly. Joel therefore slowly pulled his cock out of you, making both of you groan a little, and then he put on his pants and handed you your panties from the ground that had fallen off your ankle during sex. You thanked Joel with a smile and jumped off the kitchen counter to put on your panties.

“Don't underestimate me like that next time” he added when he has finally his pants on. He took the bowl of cookies to your family and left you there with a provocative smile on his face. You shake your head and smirked at Joel's confidence.

Well that was the best birthday gift anyone could possibly gave you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

#pedro pascal #smut #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x y/n

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months

Text

Matchmaking Harringtons 5

This one's a little shorter as we gear up for the final part!

Steve woke up on a warm day near the end of June to see his mother sitting at the table, making calls while his father was out back, doing inventory on his grill supplies.

He went over to the pantry to get some cereal, listening in on his mother's very loud conversation. She was inviting people... family... Aunt Elaine?...

By the time Steve got his bowl, cereal and milk and spoon, he figured that his parents were making preparations for a 4th of July barbecue. Smiling to herself, Diane hung up and made a note in her planner.

"So, the family's getting together for the 4th. It'll be us, your Aunt Elaine and her family for sure. I still need to call the rest. But your grandparents will be there too."

"Okay, sounds fun." A nice cookout with family that he hadn't seen since last summer.

"Oh and they're just so excited to meet Eddie."

Steve sputtered and milk dribbled down his chin. "You told them about Eddie?! About how I-I'm...?"

"No, not yet. But I told Elaine that you might have someone special to introduce everyone to, you know, if Eddie wanted to come and I don't know why he wouldn't..."

"You know why he wouldn't", Steve said.

Diane put on an exaggerated pout and batted her eyelashes.

"Mom...", he sighed.

She let out a little whimper like a sad puppy.

"You are a grown woman", Steve pointed out. "And you're setting a bad example for your son."

Jonas came in, shielding his eyes with his hand as he walked by. "I heard the pouting from outside, whatever it is, just give it to her."

"You're enabling her", Steve said.

"I bet Eddie gives you everything when you show this face. You inherited it from me", Diane said.

Steve let out another heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll ask him if he wants to come."

"You're bringing Eddie to the barbecue?", Jonas asked.

"Apparently everyone will want to meet him, despite not knowing of his existence yet."

"It's not like we're asking him to come to cotillion-"

"Which he's years late to", Steve said.

"Or to escort you to a debutante-"

"I still think your dad's sore that Steve didn't go to one", Jonas said.

"And why would Eddie be escorting me? Why am I not escorting him?"

"You know, we had a similar question regarding your wedding", Jonas said, completely missing the 'cutting' motion his wife was making.

"My what?!"

"Just as a hypothetical", Diane said quickly.

Steve played with his cereal. "You guys get me a boyfriend...you want him to meet the family...why does it feel like you've got a church picked out for August?"

"Who said we got you a boyfriend?", Diane asked at the same time Jonas said, "Who'd get married in August?"

"Eddie told me how you guys 'orchestrated' this whole thing", Steve said. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"It had nothing to do with your confidence Steve. We just wanted to help however we could", Diane said.

"So...you guys really like Eddie?"

"Like him? He's great", Jonas said. "A little odd, but that's what makes people interesting."

Diane smiled. "He has such interesting opinions, I could talk with him for hours. Actually, who does his hair? I would love to take him to the salon and-"

"Whoa there, if I didn't know better, I'd think you two were in love with Eddie", Steve said as he stood and took his empty bowl to the sink.

"Oh, is it wrong to adore our son's boyfriend?", Diane teased.

Steve kept his back to them, his silence betraying the redness in his face right now. He didn't point out that his parents were never this welcoming towards any of his past girlfriends. He knew there was something different about Eddie, and they knew it too. He was definitely 'long-term, introduce to extended family' material.

Part 7

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem @hallucinatedjosten @nburkhardt @littlewildflowerkitten @noctxrn-e @subversivecynic @larawrmonster @suikatto @platinum-sunset @imacowboy3 @tiny-enthusiast @netflixisacopingstrategymom @honorarybrit81 @manda-panda-monium @krazyperson @adaed5 @lololol-1234 @mrsjellymunson @uwujinniee

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i feel bad eddie doesnt appear here #esp bc i had a dry humping scene in mind #but the next part will be our climax #so stay tuned

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canmargesimpson · 5 months

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Doesn’t anyone else think about poor steve having to live in his house, where he is constantly reminded that he’s a failure. I mean, he graduated and instead of going to college like his parents wanted him to, he just got a mediocre job. I just can’t help but imagen poor Steve arriving home exhausted and his father yelling at him, telling him he has to move out and that he’s just a disappointment for the Harrington name. I imagen Steve keeping a straight face, but then going to his room and just shouting into his pillow, with anger, frustration, and pure rage. I imagine his parents giving him till the end of the year to get out of the house. And even after the starcout fire, his dad wouldn't have mercy on him. While his mother on the other hand, would every month an allowance to help himself to get back on his feet. She would still visit him every now and then, because he was her son after all. She would sometimes invite him for dinner sometimes, but only the times when his father wasn't in town. Steve would be so thankful for his mother, but he was never one to let her know, he was raised in a house where physical touch and emotional conversations were uncharted territory. So instead he would bring her flowers to every dinner and always tried to help out as much as he could.

When christmas arrived, his mom would obviously invite him, with the grandparents and close family. His father was there but he didn’t even go to greet steve. At dinner, an aunt would ask about what he's doing and how his life has been. He told them about having to work at the Family Video store, and how he worked with his best friend, he told them about how he also helps Holly Wheeler with her homework sometimes, he talked about how, yes it wasen’t the best thing in the world, but he was still happy for his job,and how maybe he was considering singing up for community college in Indianápolis next year. His father, who had a little too much to drink, laughed at him and just teased Steve for his so-called ‘Jobs'. Rebeca, Steve's mom, tried to stop him, but he just kept going.

“Giving out movie tickets isn’t a job! Are you kidding me? And other than that, i bet you spend your time with that queer munson , huh? Apperently he comes oftenly to visit you, doesnt he?”

Steve freezed and he became a dear in headlights. He father kept on going anf going, and no one seemed to dare to stop him. That was until he said it.

“Maybe you didn’t get into college because you’re such a f*****!”

Rebeca Harrington stood up and slammed on the table, with a loud “enough” and left everyone, dead silent. But the seconds of silences didn’t last long, as Richard stood up and left the scene. And soon followed steve. He got into is car and just drove.

He went to Eddie’s instead of going home.

Eddie was jewish, meaning he really didn’t do the whole “Christmas” thing. So he knew eddie would be alone and knew that Wayne would work for those who wanted to spend time with family. Steve just went to his trailer and told him everything. Steve always felt comfortable around Eddie, even if he would not admit it to himself. But he just vented. About having to live alone for almost 2 years now, about having the constant fear of being alone, about his father abusing him all of those years before, and about how he couldn't stand looking at her broken mother, who was only trying to get this family back together. He even told Eddie about what his father said infront of everyone. That words he onces used to insults but now the roles were reversed. He told him that he never meant that friendship to go further on, but sometimes couldn't help it. Eddie was just too perfect for him.

Eddie didn’t know how to react. He holds the boy off his dreams in his arms, who is crying and shaking like a child. He just ran his hand through his back and arms, reassuring him that he was okay now and that nothing could hurt him. Even though Eddie was scared too, having Steve next with him made him feel better. So he did what his mom used to do when Eddie was a kid and had a bad night. He took him to his kitchen and got to cooking. This is the only thing Eddie knew how to cook. He opened the freezer and took out a little plastic box filled with frozen berries. He would place them on a little stove and he added sugar and a bit of water. He then mixed it till it was marmalade. Steve who was watching him smiled at his goofiness, and really made him feel better. Then Eddie took out a spoon, filled it with the marmalade and held it in front of Steve, who gladly opened his mouth for the spoon. He ate the whole thing and with an immediate smile he looked at Eddie, who just took a bite with his finger and tasted it.

“A spoonful of sugar, helps the medicine go down in the most delightful way” he said in a british accent like his mom used to do

“Mary poppins?”

“Yeah… it's the only thing I remember from my mom. We would… we would watch mary poppins together, it was her favorite. Every time I cried or even asked for it, she would make this for me. She said that there are only 3 things in the world to cure a broken smile. Sugar, something warm, and the person you most love”

After that, Eddie gave Steve a sleeping edible, gave him one of the many band t-shirts, and another spoon of the warm berry mix he loved so much. Steve went to his bed, and was fast asleep. Eddie instead, he stayed awake reading one of the many books he had. He was right next to Steve, who was snoring softly, which made him laugh. Sleeping Steve somehow made its way to Eddie, and placed his magnificent hair on his chest. Eddie blushed and started playing with it, while he read the stories of Alice in Wonderland.

For the next few weeks, Eddie always went to see Steve, to see how he’s doing and how he’s holding up. Though Steve completely ignored what happened on Christmas, Eddie couldn’t forget it. The sound of Steve's tears really broke his heart, and the fact he was so scared and lived alone, made eddie stay up all night. He had to do something about it. So, in the cold of January, Eddie took his van and drove to the other side of town to see Steve. Even if his van had no warmers, no chains on the wheels, and the roads were covered with snow, Eddie went to see Steve no matter what. Today tho he went up to his loft and opened the door to find Steve with an older woman sitting on the couch.

They all stared at each other, completely lost of what was going on, until Steve cleared his throat and presented it to Eddie, his mother.

Oh… Eddie turned red. He didn’t actually remember steve saying anything bad about his mom, but he did remember about her and his dad being rude to steve, so eddie just went all out to defend steve… or something like that

“You- you bitch! How dare you let your husband shout at your own son! He is the best person I know, and he has a pure heart of gold! This man is nothing but a gift from god, and you just threw him out of his own house, even if he had no job or anything!?! SHAMEFUL! This man SAVED my Life! He even-”

“Eddie-”

“NO steve! She can’t just show up here, and drink your stupid tea and pretend everything is okay! ITs not okay. You show up at my house that Christmas and I had to hold you till you stopped crying because of what your parents did, and now you invite her in, give her tea… and a gift? Why does she have a gift? Oh…”

Steve stands up with pursed lips and an irritated face

“Eddie, my mom came here to apologize for the christmas accident, im handing her the gifts i didn’t have a chance to give to her”

Eddie looked at the elderly woman and then back at her son, and then back at her.

“Oh shit… I’M SO SORRY!” he just went to the couch and sat neck to Rebeca, he holded her hand and apologized “I never meant to say you were a b-bitch, i just thought- and i got confused and i was so angry and i thought you- and i- Shit. im so sorry i never really meant anything that i said and-”

“Eddie” Steve smiled as he looked at his friends “Why don't you get a plate of cookies i have in the fridge”

Eddie nodded and ran to the kitchen. Steve placed his hands on his face, sighed, and sat down.

“He seems… energetic” she smiled

“Yeah, Eddie… he’s- he’s hyper and yeah, im sorry, i didn't know he was coming over,”

“It’s okay” she smiled as she stood up and dusted off her skirt “I'm gonna leave, it seems like you 2 boys, need to catch up”

“Mom-” Steve followed her to the door and before she left she turned around quickly and looked at her son

“He seems like a great guy Steve, He really does care about you” she patted his cheek and left.

“I got the cookies!!”

Steve turned around to look at Eddie with a bowl filled with cookies and one of them in his mouth like a puppy. Steve repeated his mothers words and just dashed to him, grabbed his face and took the cookie from his mouth as he pecked him. He ate the chocolate cookie, as Eddie's jaw was on the floor, dropping the cookie left in his mouth, and Steve kissed him once more.

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic

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pensat-i-fet · 11 months

Text

Young love never lasts (Pedri x Reader)

**You know, sometimes I get requests and they sort of write themselves. This is one of those. Written in like two sittings and very cute, I think. A little childhood friends to lovers I was requested yesterday. Enjoy ❤️**

Word count: 4066

Masterlist

Wattpad

If there was something you were sure of, it was that you would never have a boyfriend. Or so you thought when you were 8.

Parents, grandparents, friends, …all obsessed over their theories of which kids could get married in the future because they looked so cute together. For you, there was only one option. And it was Pedri. You never liked playing with the boys because they were so mean to you, but Pedri wasn’t. At first, he didn’t want the other kids to see you together because they mocked him but over time, he stopped caring. He liked you, so they could think whatever they wanted about your friendship.

So everyone talked about what great friends you were and how adorable you looked together.

“Look at them holding hands”, giggled your mum one day. “Maybe they’re playing boyfriend and girlfriend”.

You weren’t. You were just walking over a pretty uneven area and held hands so you wouldn’t fall. But from that moment on, you never held Pedri’s hand again whenever someone was around.

Time made things easier. In high school, many of the mean kids were gone and no one cared about you two being friends. But your girlfriends teased you.

“Come on, he’s cute. You have to like him. You’re together all the time”.

“I don’t”, you would always say.

And you meant it. He was your friend. Your best friend. But that was it. Not that you liked any other boys but…you definitely didn’t like him.

For Pedri, it was a whole different story. He had always liked you as a friend and nothing else. But then puberty hit and he started to see you in a different light. His brother told him it was probably just the hormones. He would be attracted to every girl. But he wasn’t. He liked a few girls just because they were pretty but it was different when it came to you. He truly liked you. But he never told you about it for fear of scaring you.

He feared losing you if he told you about his feelings. But despite not telling you, he lost you anyway.

“Hey”, you greeted him one morning when you saw him outside of class.

“Hi. Where were you this morning? I was waiting for you and…”.

“I don’t think we should walk to school together anymore, Pedri”.

“Why?”

“I’ve kept a secret from you. I have a boyfriend. And I just don’t think I should spend as much time with you. Like, you’re just my friend but you’re a boy. What if that makes him uncomfortable?”

Pedri didn’t know what hurt more. It should be that you had a boyfriend. That you had finally shown interest in a boy and it wasn’t him. But that wasn’t the most painful part. It was that you wanted to stop hanging out with him. How could he cope with losing you completely?

It turned out he couldn’t. Everyone could see how sad he was, including you. The difference was that everyone else knew he was sad because you were dating someone who wasn’t Pedri. You just thought he missed you as a friend.

“Why are you so sad, darling?”, asked him his mum when she couldn’t wait any longer. She tried to give him space and allow him to talk to her when he felt ready but he wasn’t going to. And she couldn’t stand seeing her little boy looking so sad.

“Has your heart ever been broken?”

“Yes. When I was around your age. Why do you ask that?”

“Because I think mine is broken too”, he admitted, embarrassed.

“I heard about the boyfriend news…I’m so sorry, honey. But you’ll get over it. That’s teenage love. It feels like nothing you’ll ever feel will be able to match this intensity, but then you realise it was just an overreaction”.

“I don’t think it is…”.

No mother wants to see her children cry, so when Pedri’s tears started to fall, she hugged him tightly. “You say that now because it’s too raw. You’re feeling too much. But you’ll be fine soon. I promise. And I’m here to look after you, ok?”

“Ok”, he nodded. But he didn’t believe what his mum was saying.

Because it wasn’t true. The pain never truly left but it became easier to deal with it. And easier to hide it. Pedri kept waiting for the moment when you came back to him. Even if you still were dating that asshole, who was actually very nice and seemed to be making you very happy. But to Pedri, he was always going to be an asshole.

Still, he waited for you to try and be his friend again. But you never did. Not even when he got his big move to Barcelona. It seemed like the whole island was there to celebrate but you weren’t. You were away on a trip with your boyfriend and couldn’t say goodbye to your old friend before he left to try and make his dream come true.

“Who are you looking for?”, asked him his dad when he saw him looking around all the guests that had gathered there for his farewell party.

“No one. I was just trying to memorize how everything and everyone looks before leaving”.

“Well, you’ll be back. No need to be so dramatic”, laughed his dad before leaving Pedri there alone.

But he felt like being dramatic because you weren’t there. And he was afraid he was never going to see you again.

The years passed and so many of the things you thought you’d never do changed. Never having a boyfriend? Right. You definitely changed your opinion about that. After dating the same guy during your high school years, you broke up because uni life showed you maybe you weren’t as perfect for each other as you once thought. And after that, you dated a couple of guys casually. But always felt like that wasn’t you. You wanted what you had during high school. A serious committed relationship. But needed to find the right person for it.

You also said you would never cut your hair short after your mum forced you to do it every summer until you were 11 and refused to get a super short haircut every year. And you were never going to live in mainland Spain. You were an island girl, what were you supposed to do there?

Yet there you were, 20 years old and getting a gorgeous bob haircut, that everyone told you was incredibly flattering on you, right before moving to Barcelona. We all say a lot of things when we are kids and then do otherwise. It wasn’t just you.

"You've got to be kidding me".

Maybe you had a point about not living in mainland Spain. Ever since you landed in Barcelona, it had been disaster after disaster.

One of the wheels of your suitcase broke, so moving it around proved to be a bit tricky. And a lot painful. Your arm was going to be so sore the next day. Finding a taxi wasn't easy either because the drivers were on strike, so only a few of the ones parked at the airport were working.

And when you finally made it to the hotel you had to stay in until you found an apartment, you saw that it had been closed because some pipes broke and the rooms were inhabitable.

"What am I supposed to do?"

You sat down on a bench near the hotel and tried to think of what your next step should be. There was the company you were going to work for. They could maybe help you. They knew Barcelona better than you.

But first, you needed to find another taxi. A man told you where to go and on your way there, another suitcase wheel broke.

"Have I been cursed?"

Fernando, Pedri's brother, was walking near you and he turned to look at you when he heard the familiar accent from Canarias.

"Need any help?", he asked you and when you looked up, your eyes widened. "Hello?"

"Fernando?"

"How do you know my name…right, are you my brother's fan?"

"I wouldn't say I'm a fan", you chuckled. "You don't remember me?"

He stared at you for a couple of seconds. You looked familiar. Very familiar.

"Imagine me being this height", you said, pointing out how short you were when you were 12. "With longer hair and your brother by my side".

"No way…what are you doing here?"

"Living a nightmare, apparently", you sighed and Fer asked you to elaborate.

It felt good to just rant and have someone to talk to after such a horrible day.

"I mean, you could come stay with us".

"By us, you mean…".

"Yeah".

"I don't think he'd want me in his house. I hurt him a lot, Fernando. I just left him for a boy when he was my best friend. I noticed the way he glared at me a few times. I'm not welcome there. I'll just find another hotel but I appreciate the offer".

"Nonsense. We're all adults now. And I can't leave you alone in a city you barely know carrying that suitcase that's about to fall apart. Come with us. Pedri…he doesn't hate you. Believe me".

You nodded and followed him. It wasn't as if you had a lot of options. And a part of you couldn't believe you were going to see Pedri again. Moving to Barcelona, you hoped you could go see him at a match, maybe. But talking to him? No. That was not an option…until it was.

"Pepi!", screamed Fer when he opened the door to their house. "You're not going to believe what I found! Well, who I found".

"What are you talking about …".

Pedri stopped walking down the stairs to stare at you. And you stared back. No matter how many times you had seen him in photos and on the TV, nothing prepared you for how much he had changed. He was the same Pedri you knew but he was also not a 14-year-old boy anymore.

"Hi", you said, shily.

"How are you here?"

"How about we offer our guest a drink and we catch up?"

Both you and Pedri nodded and followed his brother to the kitchen, where they made you a cup of warm coffee you very much needed.

"Isn't Nacho here with you?"

That was the question Pedri had wanted to ask since he saw you.

"No, we broke up a while ago".

"Oh. Sorry", he lied.

"It's ok. Young love never lasts".

He tried to laugh when you did but didn't feel like it. Because his love for you was young love too and it very much lasted.

Pedri never forgot about you but what was the point of dwelling on those feelings when the only thing he achieved was hurting himself even more? So he pretended you didn't exist. But then he would think about anything that reminded him of you and the feelings came back immediately.

That was the case then but he believed it was justified since you were sitting in his kitchen, drinking from his favourite mug and talking to him. When was the last time that happened? Too long ago, that was when.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, Barcelona is big so I'll find another hotel and just stay there. I hope I get my money back from the other reservation I had but I'll worry about that tomorrow. I'm too tired".

"Stay here", he said, not allowing himself time to think about the pros or cons.

"You don't have to offer…".

"I know. But I want to. We're childhood friends, right?"

You nodded before looking away. "I'm sorry".

"For what?"

"Leaving you when I got a boyfriend".

Fer noticed what type of conversation was about to happen and so he excused himself and left the kitchen.

"It's ok��".

"No, it isn't. It wasn't. Nacho never asked me to do it, you know? He was never jealous or anything. I think in a way it pissed me off he wasn't? Like, aren't you worried when the whole island is obsessed with saying my best friend and I are secretly in love with each other? I always hated those bullshit rumours".

"Yeah. Same", he said, feeling his heart break again at the confession that you really never saw him as more than a friend.

"It's no excuse but I think that's what made me want to separate myself from you. People trying to push us together. If something had to happen, it should have been natural. Not forced, you know?"

He nodded. That made sense. He actually hated those comments too. They felt too invasive. And he noticed you moving away from him every time someone said something along those lines.

"Well, now I blamed everyone else for my mistakes, I'll say it again. I'm sorry I hurt you".

"Thank you for apologizing. It was actually really hard to go through that. I guess I was just young and overreacting", he tried to joke, remembering his mum's words.

You smiled at him and that was confirmation that his feelings for you were still the same.

"I thought about talking to you again so many times. Nacho even told me to. But I just knew you hated me…".

"I didn't hate you", how could you think that?

"I saw the way you looked at me. There was hatred in your eyes and it hurt because I never thought you capable of such feelings but…I deserved it. It's fine".

"I didn't hate you", he repeated. "I was probably just trying not to look too sad around you and God knows what my face looked like then. Everyone always told me about how sad I looked because you left me and I hated it. I wanted to look tough. I see it worked wonders".

You laughed and also felt relieved. No matter how much you thought you deserved to be hated by Pedri. You didn't want him to hate you.

"Right", he said, clearing his throat and getting up. "Now you know I don't hate you, let me take you to the guest room".

"You sure?"

"You still didn't tell me why you're here so I'll keep you around until we fully catch up at least", he joked.

When you finished your coffee, you followed him to the room.

"This house is bigger than your parents', huh? Well, the one we used to go to. I know they have a bigger one now. It's a bit sad. So many good memories of the old one".

"I know", Pedri was happy to be able to provide his parents with everything they could ask for and then some. But he missed their old house. Partly because of all the memories you two made there.

"But this one is nice too. Different but…I guess you've changed".

"So have you. The hair?"

That made you chuckle. "I wanted a dramatic change and I just did this. I don't know. I didn't think much about it. Hair grows back".

"It looks good on you".

"Thank you. You look great too".

That made Pedri pause. You had never spoken about him in that way. Back when you were still friends, you were still team "boys are disgusting". So he didn't know how to take the compliment.

"Thanks. I…I haven't really done much lately because of the injury. I need to shave and…".

"Don't. I mean, facial hair looks great on you. You should keep it".

He nodded, silently planning on throwing away every shaving product he had in the house.

It was crazy how, even after six years of not speaking to each other, you could go back to feeling so comfortable in each other's presence so quickly.

"I'll find some sheets for the bed. I can help you make it".

"That'd be great".

"So, what kind of job did you get here?", asked Pedri while passing you some of the bed sheets.

"It's a tech company. It's supposed to be one of the best in the country so it's very exciting".

"You work at the best company while I play for the best team".

"Debatable. But we're not going to argue about football now. I'm too tired".

You rolled your shoulders and touched the right one, trying to massage it a bit to get rid of the pain.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. It was just the travelling and then the suitcase", you laughed. "The wheels are supposed to be there to help us carry the weight so when they break…".

"There's a bath in this room. Why don't you take one and then I can find one of the creams I use for muscular pain. They help a lot".

"That sounds amazing. Thank you".

"Actually, go run the bath. I'll finish making the bed".

You both had moved to put the sheet in place and were now standing next to each other. When Pedri moved back to get one of the blankets, you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You don't have to. It doesn't hurt that much".

"It's fine".

He didn't know how to react to you touching him after all these years. And the thing was, you didn't know how to react either. Why did it feel so different than it had back when you were children? Was it because of how much time had passed? It was probably that.

Not wanting to overthink too much after such a weird day, you went to the bathroom to get everything ready for the bath. The warm water soothed your muscles and relaxed you so much, that it was hard to stay awake. But you also didn't want to stay there for too long since you were just a guest. And not even one that had been properly invited.

Searching your suitcase for something comfy to wear, you found a pair of shorts and a matching top and just put it on before going down the stairs.

"Guys? Where are you?"

"Here!", said Pedri, coming out of the living room so you could see him. "Feeling better?"

"So much better", you smiled.

"I have the cream if you want to put some on now".

You joined Pedri in his living room and took the cream from his hand. It said on the box that you had to apply a small amount and massage it into the skin. So you put some product on the tip of your fingers and started to do that but…it was really uncomfortable.

"Dinner will be ready in 10", said Fer. "Do you need help with that?"

"Maybe", you admitted.

"Fer can do it", said Pedri quickly, “he helps me when I can't reach the injured area".

"My hands are dirty from cooking, sorry. You do it".

Pedri shook his head seeing his brother run away back to the kitchen. He could be so obvious sometimes.

"Can you do it, please?"

He nodded and you turned so your back was to him. There was already cream on your shoulder but he took a bit more and started to apply it. "Where does it hurt the most?"

You took his hand and moved it to the area that needed the massage the most. And Pedri kept massaging your skin, even if it was so hard to be this close to you and a simple shoulder massage felt so intimate somehow. But he just thought about how it meant literally nothing to you and it helped. A bit.

However, he was wrong. Because you were once again overthinking why his touch was affecting you so much. The cream was supposed to numb the area to help with the pain. But you also felt your brain was numb because you couldn't process anything that was going on.

"Thank you", you told him, turning your head to see him but he only looked away.

"No problem. Let's go eat. You must be starving".

Fer was also there during dinner, and Pedri used him as a shield almost. For his feelings. And you…you really understood how much you must have hurt him all those years ago. Because seeing him ignore you at times, it was really painful. Not that you could complain but still.

When you woke up the next morning, you found Fer having breakfast alone.

"Is Pedri still sleeping?"

"No, he had to leave early for training".

"Oh, right. Um…I got a message from my hotel. They're moving us to another one while everything is repaired so I'll go there later. I kind of hoped I could say goodbye to Pedri and thank him for letting me stay here".

"Who says you can't? You'll be living in the same city. You know where he lives…there is time to thank him and to talk. To be friends again, maybe?"

That idea had been in your head all night. You barely slept and just kept overthinking.

"I don't think he wants to be my friend".

"No, he always wanted to be more than your friend. Probably still does".

"What?"

You had heard the comments. Of course, you had. But why pay them any attention? You had your boyfriend and were living your life away from Pedri's. Who cared if it was true he had feelings for you?

Now, however, you did care.

"Do you want me to be honest with you?"

You nodded. "Of course".

"If you're just going to play with his feelings and hurt him again, then leave and don't come back. But I noticed the way you looked at him yesterday. And having you back in his life would mean everything to my brother".

"I never liked him like that…".

"But?"

"But maybe I do now?"

Fer smiled, happy to see he had read the situation well. "Then give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I hurt him again?"

"That's a risk we take with all relationships. It shouldn't be the reason why you don't do it".

Pedri had also been overthinking your unexpected return to his life. That's why he left earlier than he should in the morning. He couldn't face you even if that made him a coward. He needed time.

His brother texted him saying you had a hotel to go to and that you'd be gone by lunchtime. And that he'd have dinner ready for when Pedri came back from some photoshoots he had to do for sponsors.

"Fer?", he called when he got back home. But got no answer. "Ok".

Pedri walked to the dining room, seeing that the lights were on. But he didn't find his brother there, he found you.

"I thought you had left".

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No".

You finally smiled. This was so nerve-wracking. "Fer made some dinner for us. So we can talk. Sit down, it'll get cold".

Pedri sat down and put some food on his plate, seeing you do the same. "Talk about what?"

"Us".

Such a small word that was. Us. But what did it mean in this context?

"I already, sort of, tried to explain the lame reasons why I pushed you away once. I don't want that to happen again. But would understand if you wanted me gone".

"I don't", he said quickly. "I didn't back then. And I don't now".

"Good", you smiled at him, making him smile too. "Also, our parents, grandparents, neighbours, etc might have been right"

"In which way?"

"Maybe it was just a matter of time before we realised we liked each other".

Pedri was so shocked by your admission, he knocked the glass with his elbow and spilled all the water on the table and the floor.

"Crap! Sorry!"

You bit your lip so you wouldn't laugh at his clumsiness and got up to help him.

"I got it", he said, putting more paper cloth on top of the water to absorb it and making a mess.

"Do it like this", you told him, putting your hand on his and moving it to clean the table properly. "You always needed me to hold your hand. How did you cope these past years?"

"I didn't".

"Well, that's about to change. If you want it to change".

"I do", he said, sealing the promise with the kiss he had dreamed about for a decade.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri fluff #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #childhood friends to lovers #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x yn #footballer fanfic

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lisbeth-kk · 4 months

Text

May Prompts (15) Nightmare

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 15)

Summary: Rosie tells us about her family's sanctuary that is 221B, but also about wars over board games. In the end, it's the story about someone else who also needs a safe haven.

Fifteen Years Old

I felt oddly protective of our home from an early age, and I didn’t want it invaded by my friends. Not that I was ashamed of all the bric-a-brac, Papa’s experiments, or how different it was to other homes I’d visited. It was just...our space, a safe haven where we all could lower our guards, Papa in particular. Over the years, his fame had increased exceedingly, and his derisive façade kept journalists and fans at bay. The moment he entered 221B, he discarded said façade by hanging his coat on the peg.

Another thing to consider, were the battles that always ensued whenever one of us challenged the others to a board game. Having an outsider witnessing that…well, we’d surely be sectioned for life if that were to occur.

(More likely, the person would be granted vicious dreams for eternity.)

But as Papa points out; there’s always something. In this context, someone. My friend Liwia. Her parents were Polish, and moved to England two years before Liwia was born. They were Catholics, and having to adjust to a society that was more liberal toward queer people than Poland, took its time. When Liwia came out to them as a lesbian the year prior, they’d tried to pin it on her friendship with me. I was after all related to quite a few of the sort and Liwia’s parents seemed to believe the ludicrous lie that queerness was contagious.

It took them some months to get over it, but once they realised that Liwia still was her normal self, they discarded the original idea of sending her to Poland to live with her strictly religious grandparents. Neither of the Barczykowskis was prepared when said grandparents announced that they were visiting London that summer, staying for at least a fortnight.

***

Dad and I were in the middle of a Scrabble war, when Papa came home. Not that we realised it at the time. We were too engrossed in arguing.

“It’s bloody unfair to use all the medical terms and diseases you can come up with to win, you know!” I exclaimed accusatory.

“Oh, come now, Rosebud,” Dad teased, looking as pleased as the cat that ate the canary.

“Don’t you dare Rosebud me,” I said through clenched teeth.

Dad only used that pet name when we were at war over the board games, and it rubbed me up the wrong way.

“Children,” Papa chastised, barely able to suppress his glee.

“You’re home,” we said in unison.

I waited for the inevitable eyeroll and his obviously, but none came.

“We have a guest,” Papa said and waved a hand, and that’s when I saw Liwia standing by the sofa wringing her hands, a look of despair in her eyes.

I leapt to my feet and walked over to hug her tight.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered into her hair.

She explained about her grandparents, and with just one look over at Papa, receiving a nod, I turned back to assure my friend that she could stay at Baker Street for as long as she needed, if her biased grandparents started to make her life a living nightmare.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson,” Liwia said politely.

I could literally see the relief wash over her, the tension in her shoulders dissipating and a tiny smile forming on her lips.

“Please, call us John and Sherlock,” Dad said.

Then he turned his attention to me with a devilish grin.

“Does this mean you declare defeat, Rosebud?”

“You wish!” I snarled and left Liwia’s side to go into battle with my father.

(Before you go all bananas on me - this will continue tomorrow...)

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies.

#may prompts 2024 #may 15: nightmare #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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thatgirlstrawberry · 2 years

Text

Sick Surprise pt. 11 - Wedding Planning

In which Y/N and Spencer fight over planning the wedding

Warnings: allusions to sex, fluff, angst, sadness, Derek Morgan is just the best advice giver, lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“Oh baby, baby. How was I supposed- to know?” Y/N whipped her head in each direction to the music that was playing. Britney Spears to be specific. All she had on was one of his button up shirts and a pair of underwear. Spencer had no room to laugh though because all he was wearing was the bright red tie that went with the shirt his fiancé was wearing and his boxers. “That something wasn’t right? Oh baby, baby, I shouldn’t let you go.”

She sang the rest of the song, twirling around. Her hips shook from side to side trying to tease Spencer. At one point she tugged up from the spot on the edge of the bed by his tie and tried to twirl him around but they ended up a pile of limbs on floor.

Y/N let out a loud laugh. “Are you seriously hard right now!?” She cackled.

The only reason she was able to be so loud was because Eloise was staying at her grandparents house for the weekend. It took everything in her to let her daughter out of her sight after the Jake situation but they convinced her by saying that they’d FaceTime every night.

Now, they laid on the floor trying to catch their breaths from laughing so hard. “You’re laying on top of me in your underwear and my shirt. Of course I’m hard.”

Y/N giggled and sat up, straddling his hips where she could really feel him. “Baby, please.” He groaned. She smirked and leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

“Nope.” She hummed. “We agreed that we’d start planning today.”

Spencer chuckled and bucked his hips a little. “We can plan after. Please I need you.”

Y/N couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes and his rock hard dick underneath her. She bit her lip and ground her hips, letting a soft breath escape her lips and smiled and he groaned.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Four hours later and they still had not gotten to any of the plans. It was like he was avoiding it. Every time she brought it up he found something else to talk about.

Maybe it was too soon for him. Maybe he changed his mind about her. Maybe he didn’t want to be tied down to her and Eloisey. Maybe he realized that her parents were right and that she was a mess. Was this his way of letting her know without letting her know?

One thing Y/N did when she felt she was getting abandoned was… do the abandoning first.

They were now making dinner, freshly showered and clothed in pajamas.

Even though their day was great Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. She was stirring the sauce for the pasta and Spencer noticed her body language change when he walked up beside her.

“Can you get me the garlic powder, please?” Y/N asked quietly. Spencer did so silently and she bit her lip.

Spencer had noticed something about his fiancé. She got quiet when there was something bothering her.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer rubbed her arm with his knuckles gently. She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly. “Are you okay?”

Y/N sighed heavily and looked back down. “Yep.” She answered shortly. Spencer tilted his head and bit his lip. He silently slid the strainer full of cooked penne pasta in front of her knowing that’s what she needed without her asking for it.

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly. She sighed heavily and he continued on. “B-because you seem a little quiet. And I feel like you’re angry and if you are I have no idea why. C’mon, talk to me, baby.”

Y/N stepped away from his soft touch on her arm. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit. “Wanna just call it off?” Her sentence didn’t seem like it actually came out of her mouth.

“What? Call what off?” He asked, his features contorted into confusion. He stepped back a bit.

She shut her eyes and placed her hands over her eyes. “The wedding— us— I don’t know, Spencer.” She shook her head and turned around.

He wants to leave you, Y/N. Leave him first.

Her eyes flooded with tears and her body heated up. “Y/N, what the hell are you talking about?”

She sighed again. “You don’t seem to want to marry me is all I’m saying, Spencer.” She rolled her teary eyes and turned back around to face him.

Spencer scoffed. “W- what? Of course— you don’t want to get married?”

Y/N kept her mouth shut, the tension filled silence making both of their minds go a billion miles a minute.

“So that’s a no then?” He asked quietly. She sniffled and bit her lip, still staying quiet. “I’m gonna go out for a bit.” He said, walking towards the couch where his jacket laid.

“Spencer, where are you going?” She asked, the tears finally falling as he left the kitchen.

He shrugged. “Uh… just to Derek’s for a little bit I guess.”

She nodded and crossed her arms, following behind him. “B-but you’ll be back, right?” She called as he ent for the door. She noticed that he didn’t even grab his key.

He didn’t answer her and left. The door shut and the apartment was still and silent. Her bottom lip quivered and when she felt that he was far enough away from the door, she let out a small sob and covered her face with her hands.

But Spencer was right there on the other side of the door.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer did end up going to Derek’s for a little while and even got some advice.

“Listen, pretty boy.” Derek and Spencer were drinking beer on his couch while watching some football game that was on. “It sounds like she’s not great at communication. Which means, there was a miscommunication.” He said leaning forward.

Spencer nodded. “But she said she doesn’t want to marry me.”

Derek shook his head. “Did she actually say that or did she just stand there?”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean she did actually say that but she made it pretty clear—“

“Do you love her?” The man asked.

Spencer scoffed. “Of course I do.”

“Do you love her kid like she’s yours?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Reid, go back to that damn apartment and talk to her!”

With that, Spencer sighed heavily and got up from his couch and headed back home to his Y/N.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The door was unlocked when he got back to the apartment. He walked in and took off his jacket, placing it on the hook.

It was quiet. If Eloise was there the TV would be blasting some kiddy song and her and her mother would both be passed out on the couch.

But he didn’t see that when he walked in. Instead, he saw Y/N laying down on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chest. She was sniffling and trying to catch her breath.

“Y/N?” He whispered as he neared the couch. Her sniffles stopped and she opened her eyes. She sat up and wiped her eyes, not really believing that it was him.

“Spence, you’re back?”

He got on his knees in front of the couch. “I’m sorry I left, baby.”

She bit her lip trying to stop it from quivering. “N-no, I was—“

“Talk to me, Y/N. What’s the matter?”

She sighed and picked at her fingertips, looking down at her thighs to avoid his eyes. “I um…” She swallowed, glancing up at him before her newly dried eyes tearing back up. “I just feel like… you’ve been pushing planning the wedding off. And then my mind spiraled and I thought that maybe you don’t want to plan because you don’t want to marry me. And I thought you were gonna— gonna leave me and so I tried to hurt you first.”

Spencer took in her words, trying to understand what she was talking about as she went on one of her nervous tangents. “I— the wedding plans? Baby, I didn’t want to do it because I want everything that you want. I want you to have anything you want. All I’m worried about is getting to marry you.”

She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. “So you only didn’t want to plan because you want me to have what I want?” She repeated his statement. “Do you promise that you want to marry me?”

Spencer nodded and grabbed her chin softly to get her to look at him. “I want to marry you. And I will whenever you want me to, in whatever suit you want me to wear, in whatever building you want me to be in, trying not to stutter in front of whoever you want to invite.”

She smiled through her tears and nodded. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. “I love you, Y/N almost Reid.”

She giggled and went in for another kiss but her phone rang. It was her mother. Spencer kept his hands on her knees when she answered. “Mom, what’s the matter?”

“Well… don’t freak out but uh… Eloise and I are at the hospital.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Yuhhhhhhh this was more sad than angsty but I’m still living for it

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!!

What do you think happened with Eloise?? Is she okay?

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#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader

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