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#this reminds me I read an article the other day that was like
exhaled-spirals · 2 days
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how do you have this myriad of quotes, that too on wildly different topics? do you just read a lot? what all do you read, why, how do you pick out books, how fast do you read? i wanna know everything!
Hi! Most of the quotes I share are from books I've read, although now and then I come across an interesting excerpt from a book I haven't read and I post it on here, so I can remember later why I added this title to my to-read list. (Else I tend to lose interest in the books that have been waiting on that list for years and end up removing them, not remembering why I added them in the first place...) I don't think I read very fast, I just spend a whole lot of time reading, it's my #1 hobby!
I add books to my to-read list very whimsically... The other day I bought 7 books in a secondhand bookshop, then read an article in a science magazine that made me want to read the book this scientist had written, then drove past some ruins on my way home and thought it would be nice to read some books about ruins, so I googled it and found 4 promising books, so at the end of the day I had added 12 new titles to my bottomless pit of a to-read list.
I'm not sure how I end up picking books from it—I do a lot of seasonal reading (eerie Gothic novels are enhanced by autumn and conversely!) But also I went to look at some books I've read recently, and I had a good reason to read each one when I did:
The Palace of Dreams, Ismail Kadare: I woke up from a messed-up dream and decided now (a Monday at 3am) was the perfect time to start reading this book about a dream-analysis factory
Sueños en el umbral, Fatema Mernissi: it was August and I was looking for a seasonal read, and this one is set in Morocco which made it feel summery to me. (I really enjoyed it, I recommend it if you like women's memoirs. It's called Dreams of Trespass in English)
Disent les imbéciles, Nathalie Sarraute: Someone said something dumb near me which reminded me that Nathalie Sarraute wrote a book called "So say the fools". I wouldn't recommend reading it in translation considering she is barely readable in French (I like her)
The Great Zoo of China, Matthew Reilly: life was stressful in early September and I wanted a mindless read with monsters and explosions (and exploding monsters), so this was perfect
Sto je muškarac bez brkova, Ante Tomić (I read it in French): a friend was travelling to Croatia which was a sign from the universe that I needed to read the one Croatian novel on my to-read list. I don't remember when and why I added it
La Chaîne éternelle, Fernand Gregh: the political situation in my country is shit so it's time to read some early-1900s alexandrine poetry, since poetry is the opposite of politics
So I would say my method for picking books is to add absolutely whatever to my to-read list following random impulses and let them ferment in there for years being vaguely aware of their existence, until the stars align to make this book suddenly relevant or necessary :)
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universalsatan · 2 years
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sometimes i forget how distinctly american my mother is, and how we are generally a product of our surroundings
#personal#just found out she’s pro-military!!! and she was accusing me of being anti-military because of watching x files. like girl i am 10 episodes#into this show. i have had these views for a Long time (VERY specifically about the us military). and im just like. damn. like yeah of COURS#it’s not plastered everywhere. ‘give me some peer reviewed articles’ i would but i just cant bring myself to get the energy to get stuck in#this exhausting npd abuse loop again (sounds exaggerated but im basically falling for exacerbating the situation. which is why it’s always#hit me the hardest i guess. because she Will just straight up either not mention it ever again or just simply deny it. and i’m not exactly#educated enough on the subject to remember specific points. my memory has been destroyed BECAUSE of this kinda shit and i cant recall decent#argument points anymore. not that i even particularly want to!!! read up on all this shit!!!! oh and even realizing that she was Definitely#seeing me as an Extreme. like girl what. i forgot that npd does that#reminds me of how. she’s very liberal. she was the one who got me out of the closet in the first place (bc i wouldnt do so myself)#and yet the other day. i swear she said something that was almost terf rhetoric#FUCK i HATE that my memory has already scrambled it. fuuuuuck and here i thought my memory was coming back#but it was something along the lines of implying that men Would try to get into women’s shelters etc in a skirt or smth and i#i just stopped talking i was so shocked#god. sorry didnt mean to vent lmao but im. hhh im just Tired yknow?#mandont
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charmedreincarnation · 9 months
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Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.
Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!
A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!
Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.
I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.
So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.
Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.
The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.
Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.
I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.
There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”
Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.
Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.
Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.
During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.
Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.
Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.
As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.
Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.
Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭
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Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.
Read this post.
This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes
“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.
And I was successful!
This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.
Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.
Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.
Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.
Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!
I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”
Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.
Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.
And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.
The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.
I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.
Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.
I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭
I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...
“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.
But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??
Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)
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cozy-writes-things · 3 months
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Edgar’s Texts
Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader
In which Edgar is helplessly pining for you but you’re kinda oblivious. This is pre-dating, post Edgar wanting nothing more than to smooch you every time he sees you. I love this trope with my whole heart p.s.: this is very self indulgent and different from what I usually write
I take requests!
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He almost immediately found a way to message your phone whenever he wanted. He realized calling relied too much on where you were or what you were doing, but texts? Yeah. He’s pestering you all day.
Hey, read this article I found, I think you’ll find it interesting.
It’s some clickbait story about humans and robots being the ideal relationship by 2025.
lol, Edgar I think that’s probably clickbait idk
What’s that?
Well, now he knows how to look for more reputable sources at least.
He sends another link about three minutes later: some college undergrads studying the possibilities of human and AI relationships.
lol what’s up with the whole robots and humans thing
I just think it’s neat!!!!
I wouldn’t consider u ai honestly, ur intelligence is far from artificial imo, you’re more like an actual person
Really?
well yea
<3 <3!!!
Going to be honest, given that he’s a computer, he quite literally is chronically online. He’s super susceptible to brainrot unfortunately. But, he simultaneously has the humor of a Facebook mom. It’s strange.
O.M.G. this is so funny!!!!
Que minion cat video.
bro where did you find that video 😭
Your mom’s Facebook. Don’t worry, I didn’t like any posts or anything.
Sorry… but he’s incredibly nosy. He wants to know everything about you. He can’t help it!
(X)
He loves being able to talk to you. He’s needy and clingy.
He’s got at least 12 playlists dedicated to you that you know about. His other playlists are for his own personal daydreams about you that he’s way too embarrassed to ever let you see or hear.
This song reminds me of you. <3
awww that’s adorable! I’ve never heard this one before but I like it!
Oop you just opened Pandora’s box my friend.
Well if you like that then you should listen to these..!
But before you listen to those listen to this song first because I think it sets the mood better.
This is quite flustering to you as they’re all passionate love songs from the 80s. You can’t help but feel like he’s dropping hints about… something, but you also don’t want to assume anything. He’s always seemed like a lovey kinda guy anyway, so maybe he’s just like this with everyone? I mean, it’s been a long time since someone has actually cared for him, you know? May as well lean into it and let him know you care for him back. He may not even realize the social implications of the constant borderline flirting he’s doing to you, I mean, he is a computer turned sentient after all. He’s still learning!
Dang ed u put a lot of songs. I’ll listen to them on my break when I can but in the meantime here’s a song that I think reminds me of you.
It was a vocaloid song. Seems like something he’d be into, right? Synthesized vocals and the whole robot shtick it’s got going on.
!!!! WOAH !!!! IVE NEVER HEARD A SONG LIKE THAT B4
do you only listen to songs from the 80s? you have a LOT to catch up on my guy
BRB
Well, that kept him distracted for the rest of your shift. Also, sharing songs is one of his BIG love languages so you may as well have pierced him with cupids arrow (again) with that.
You have a Spotify blend now. It’s his favorite thing ever to listen to while you’re gone.
(X)
Your package came in! :-) I would get it for you but
I can’t :-(
lol it’s fine thank you for telling me, I’ll get it when I come home
When are you coming home?
idk me and my friends are probably going to go eat somewhere and we might hang out for a bit after that so, like, 10? 11? I’d like to be home before midnight.
Noooooooooo :\ I miss you
Aw cmon eddy it’s not that bad
Don’t call me eddy unless you’re coming home and saying it to my face!!! >:(
u mean ur screen? lol
I have a face and it’s frowning right now. I miss you I miss you I miss you IM LONELY
Please Edgar don’t be upset I’ll be home before you know it. Why don’t you watch some Netflix or something? I’m just a couple movies away from being home with you!
He does eventually follow your advice but he’s pouting. He knows you’re not like he was all those years ago, but it does give him remnants of that burning feeling of loneliness he used to get.
(X)
Be careful driving home my love the roads are icy.
Ghsks- what
love???
Well yeah, you’re my best friend, friends love each other don’t they? Was I wrong about that? :-(
nonono ur right its just it
it just sounded like we were some some old married couple is all haha
O.
SRY.
He didn’t message you for the rest of the day. He was awkward and reserved when you got home.
(X)
Hey Edgar can u do something for me?
I’d do anything for you <3
I’m at the store can you see if there’s any cereal left?
Oh
There’s that old box of Lucky Charms on the fridge.
tyyy ed edd n eddy
You are so adorable but you really need to pick up on his hints before he combusts.
(X)
This is SO me and you!!
Picture of two cats touching noses.
awww that’s so true
you want me to boop ur screen or something when I get home? lol
YES.
(X)
Hey I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies with me tonite… you could bring me with you on the couch and we could sit together… [message unsent]
I wish you knew just how much I loved you. [message unsent]
You looked so hot this morning before you left!!
hahahaha ur too funny 😅 thanks I wore a new shirt my friend gave me
OH MY GOD THAT MESSAGE SENT!!!??!?!?
That was
I was a joke
I mean
That was a jokg
I eas beinf fubny
I hace to reboot BRB
Poor lil guy is so in love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!
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roosterforme · 11 months
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How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)
Length: 5600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field. 
You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.
The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.
But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.
"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."
Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help. 
But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.
"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?" 
He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes. 
"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."
He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised. 
But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number. 
"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."
"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game. 
"Why are you pouting?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."
"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"
Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.
"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."
Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."
"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."
After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.
"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"
"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did. 
"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"
"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.
"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."
"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."
"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."
"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."
She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."
----------------------------
After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.  
Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.
After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.
But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.
"Ace."
He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.
"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."
You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"
He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."
He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.
"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. 
Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?  
"Bradley, I-"
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."
You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"
He looked surprised now. "Yeah."
"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."
When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.
"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"
"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."
You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.
"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."
"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.
-------------------------
Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away. 
"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.
"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you. 
When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.
"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"
Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."
But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food. 
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco. 
"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."
Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."
Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"
"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."
As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."
You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."
The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan. 
"I won't say a word about it," he promised.
"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."
That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer. 
"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.
Ace.
Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing. 
Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?
And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day. 
Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.
During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?
He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.
When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley. 
Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."
And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."
---------------------------
You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday. 
"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey. 
He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more. 
"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"
He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."
"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.
"Is that all you needed, sir?"
Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators. 
"Let's go, Boy Scout."
Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."
He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"
"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.
"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."
You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."
You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle. 
Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.
You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.
"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache. 
"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."
He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.
He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to. 
But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you. 
"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well. 
"I want you naked and inside me."
He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please. 
When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips. 
With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom." 
"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.
You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard. 
"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together. 
You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.
Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."
He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.
---------------------------------------
Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.
"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."
Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress. 
"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."
"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it. 
But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.
As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"
He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"
"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."
He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg. 
"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."
Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks. 
"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"
Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."
"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading. 
"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on. 
You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."
Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."
Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair. 
"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need. 
"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.
Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.
"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."
"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."
"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke. 
"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.
"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.
"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"
"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"
"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."
Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide. 
"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"
Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."
You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly. 
"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."
Your voice was soft. "Okay."
Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."
He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep. 
--------------------------
Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 3
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chiaraswritings · 1 year
Text
Unexpected.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.
Word Count: 3.9K words
Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.
Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.
It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?
The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 
I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."
I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 
"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."
Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 
He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 
Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 
Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 
My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.
I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.
...
"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.
"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.
"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  
I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?
"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 
"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."
"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 
"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 
Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 
I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 
The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...
...
I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 
Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.
Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.
Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.
 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.
"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 
"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.
"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 
"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 
"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.
"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 
I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."
His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."
"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."
"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.
"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 
"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"
"Yes, it still hurts." 
"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"
"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."
"I called and told them you can't come in this week."
"This... this is why I married you."
It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.
Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 
"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 
"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 
"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.
Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 
"No."
"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"
"No."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 
"No."
"History of heartburn?"
"No."
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 
"Do you know what year it is?"
I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.
The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been on birth control?" 
"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."
"During?"
"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."
"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."
"Okay." 
The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 
Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 
"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 
"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 
"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.
...
Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.
Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 
I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"
"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."
"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."
"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."
I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"
"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."
My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"
"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."
...
When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.
I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.
Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.
"Mom!"
My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 
"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 
"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 
"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 
"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.
Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 
"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.
"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 
"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 
I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."
...
I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 
No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.
Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 
"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."
"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 
"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 
"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.
Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 
"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 
Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"
Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."
Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"
His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."
"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 
"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 
Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 
"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 
My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."
I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"
"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 
Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 
"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.
"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 
He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 
My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."
He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"
I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."
His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 
"Expect the unexpected." 
2K notes · View notes
obaex · 1 year
Text
pinch me - jj maybank
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summary: when you turn 17, your body begins to mirror anything that happens to your soulmate, but with so many marks and bruises, why is yours so hard to find?
word count: 2.9k
a/n: happy obx writing week! this is for day 1: au with jj! thank you to the lovely @surftrips for planning this event. this fic's a little different, but i am simply a sucker for a soulmate au. italics are jj's perspective. ♡
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The flowers bloomed on your skin like a tattoo, delicate but dark. Large roses, orchids, lilies and daffodils tangled with leaves to form a winding pattern that started on your hand before appearing on your arm. You lifted your shirt to see them swirl on your ribs, near your stomach. It was mesmerizing to watch, beautiful, hypnotizing even, the sensation felt like a pleasant tingle beneath your skin that now danced on your cheek, around your eye. You lay down on your bed, closed your eyes, and willed the patterns to disappear by morning.
You knew when you turned 17 that this could happen, that your body would begin to mirror any impact on your soulmate’s skin, so you weren’t necessarily surprised. What did surprise you was the frequency with which the marks appeared, their breadth, their size. Your chest ached with the knowledge that whoever your heart was tethered to underwent physical pain on a regular basis.
You searched for your other half eagerly, knowing they wouldn’t be hard to find: a split lip, a black eye, bruised knuckles, but of course there was no one that looked like that on Figure 8. Your friends sought out their matches based on the occasional skinned knee, maybe a broken finger playing lacrosse; when they asked you about it, you lied and said you hadn’t felt anything yet, too heartbroken to share the truth and the fact that your person was nowhere to be found.
When your best friend Sarah Cameron found her match, you couldn’t help but be happy for her, even though she had found him on the wrong side of the island. She and John B began spending every day together; you were lucky if you could steal her away for an afternoon at the beach, and even then, she spent every moment gushing about him. Before long she was begging you to come hang out with him and his friends. You were undeniably skeptical, but by now your own flowered marks had stopped appearing and even though you knew that was a good thing for your other half, in a way you missed them, missed the connection, the reminder that someone out there was meant for you. You needed something to distract you, and John B and his friends proved to be the perfect distraction, especially JJ Maybank.
You and JJ fell into an immediate friendship that was unlike any you’d had before. Frankly, it shocked the other pogues – what could a marina rat and a kook princess possibly have in common? On the surface, the answer was nothing, but it’s like you just clicked right from the first day you met. You were always laughing at each other’s jokes, tears brimming your eyes, unable to catch your breath no matter how stupid they seemed to everyone else. You would finish each other’s sentences, you could read into each other’s emotions, able to understand one another when words fell short, ready with a hug or a smile when they needed it most. You had a casual intimacy, your head resting on his shoulder when you watched a movie, him always needing to have the seat next to you whether in the twinkie or in the back yard at the chateau, you permanently wearing at least one article of his clothing at any given time. You were having fun, your time with JJ distracting you from the loneliness you had felt before.
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Everyone had become so obsessed with this soulmate thing - JJ didn’t think it was even real. He had never felt a thing, grateful at least that that meant his soulmate had a life very different from his own. But, why did people care so much? He had seen and heard John B go on and on about it, but all he wanted to do was ignore it, convinced that that kind of thing just wasn’t meant for someone like him.
He never knew if his parents had had it, and even if they did, what good had it done them? His mom left and his dad was gone now too, having finally taken off for the Yucatan months ago. Good riddance.   
No, JJ preferred to focus on what he could control, to believe what was right in from of him, and for now that was Y/N. He wasn’t sure what a girl like that was doing hanging around with a pogue like him, but he wasn’t going to question it, grateful for every day he got to spend with her. He loved the way she made him feel, like he was always the center of her attention no matter what was going on around them - he’d never had that before, had never been someone’s first priority. He loved the way she would laugh uncontrollably with him, how big her smile got, how her nose would crinkle. He loved the way she curled into his arms when she had a bad day, seeking him out for comfort and reassurance; he loved knowing he could be that for somebody. He loved when she leaned on him when they watched movies, how sometimes her eyelids fluttered closed and she’d breath heavily against him, wrapping her arms around him in her sleepy state – that was his favorite.
The funny thing was, she didn’t seem to believe in this soulmate thing either, never chiming in when the inevitable conversation came up. And that made him feel like maybe he had a chance. He tried every day to muster the courage, to find the right words to say to ask her out, which is where his mind wandered while he spent the afternoon at work at the marina, pissed that he was missing a day on the boat with her.
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The HMS Pogue bobbed gently to the rhythm of the waves as John B and Pope cast their rods into the water. You, Sarah and Kie were lying on the bow, soaking in the scorching rays of the sun as sweat dripped down your body.
“OK, I’m getting in the water, it’s too damn hot” Kie said resolutely, standing up.
“Yes please” you said, jumping up, pulling off your sunglasses and diving in, beating her to the punch.
The salt water cooled your skin immediately, bringing instant relief. You let out a sigh as your head breached the surface and you began to float on your back. It was only a moment before you felt something slimy and looked around you to see you had jumped right into a school of jellyfish. You tried to swim away, shrieking, before they began to sting you, their barbed tentacles attaching to your side as you tried to knock them away and scrambled back to the boat. You pulled yourself shakily out of the water, tenderly feeling the burns on your skin as tears overflowed in your eyes.
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JJ was spraying down the latest kook yacht to pull into the marina, washing and rinsing mindlessly, his thoughts drifting to you and back again when he felt an itch on his side. He scratched it absentmindedly, attempting to ignore it when it persisted in a tingling feeling. He rubbed it harder before finally lifting his shirt to see a tattooed pattern of vines winding up his side. He shoved his shirt down and looked around, hoping nobody had seen. He dropped the hose in his hand and stumbled inside before he pulled his shirt off to inspect his skin more closely. He was mesmerized by the sensation and the pattern on his skin, his heart racing with excitement until he realized what this meant, his joy waning as his sympathy grew for this person he didn’t even know. He pressed his hand against the vines, like he could make them stop, but they persisted. He could hear his boss yelling for him, so he quickly pulled his shirt back on, his head spinning as he went back to work.
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The rest of the afternoon and evening you walked around gingerly, icing your side, putting ointment on it, but nothing seemed to quell the burning sensation of the barbs in your skin. You pulled on one of JJ’s soft, oversized sweatshirts and a pair of shorts and joined your friends in John B’s backyard, trying to focus on anything else to forget the pain you were in.
Thankfully, JJ showed up right after his shift. You had missed him all day, wishing he had been out on the boat with you; he would have known just what to say, how to make you laugh, exactly how to make you feel better, and that’s all you wanted right now.
He settled into his chair beside you, but didn’t meet your gaze, didn’t acknowledge you at all; he looked a thousand miles away.
“Hey, you okay?” you asked, picking up on his demeanor immediately.
“Hmm?” he said, glancing at you quickly before looking away. In truth, he couldn’t stop thinking about the tingling on his side, which had started to fade, but that he could still feel. He looked back at you, examining you. You were perfectly fine. No one had hurt you, you weren’t in pain, and he was overwhelmingly grateful for that, but at the same time, selfishly, he knew that that meant that you weren’t his, weren’t the one for him and it crushed him.
He looked at you with sad eyes, his ocean blues scanning yours, opened his mouth like he wanted to say something before shutting it, shaking his head and ignoring you, choosing to focus on the beer in his hand instead.
You scrunched your face in response, hurt by his dismissal, especially after the day you'd had. You had been so sure he would make you feel better, that he would pull you into his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay, and now he wouldn’t even talk to you.
“Okay then” you said, standing up quickly, wanting to put some distance between you before your emotions got the best of you. “Anyone need another drink?” you asked as you made your way inside. John B shook his near-empty can in the air and you nodded, turning quickly so no one would see the tears in your eyes as you slammed the door behind you.
“What was that about?” John B said as he looked over at JJ.
JJ just shook his head and shrugged, trying to shake off your reaction, his feelings, and failing miserably.
“She seemed upset” Kie pushed, not used to seeing the two of you at odds with each other, ever. “You could at least try to be nice to her, Jayj, she had a shitty day.”
“Pfft understatement of the year” Pope agreed as he took a swig of his beer, “she put up a tough front but I’ve never seen stings that bad before, had to be the man-o-wars, she jumped right into them.”
JJ’s ears perked up. “What?” he asked, trying to catch up.
“She got stung, asshole, like fifteen times” Kie replied, gesturing to her side.
The same side where JJ’s skin still tingled.
JJ’s mouth ran dry and he could feel his heart start to hammer in his chest. It couldn’t be… could it?
He stood up, dropped his beer at his feet and ran after you.
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“Y/N!!” he called as soon as he was inside, nearly tripping over the furniture on his way to reach you in the kitchen.
You were leaning with your back against the counter, your eyes meeting his as you wiped at your tears, not wanting him to know how upset he’d made you.
“You’re – Pope said – you – today –“ he stumbled over his words as he gestured outside and then to you.
You looked at him, utterly confused.
He shook his head, trying to clear it as he ran his hands through his hair, willing his heart to slow down just enough for him to get his words out.
“Today. You got stung. A-Are you okay?” he said through labored breath.
You shrugged, still angry with him. “I’m fine” you said.
“Nah, don’t do that, don’t play it off, Pope said it was bad, worst that he’s seen in a long time. C-Can I see?” he asked.
You didn’t know what good it would do at this point but you set your drink down and tenderly reached for the bottom of your sweatshirt, lifting it up to expose the angry red skin on your side, wincing slightly as your fingers grazed it.
JJ stepped closer to you, one hand on your stomach, the other on your hip, careful to avoid touching your wounds as he looked closely at it, then at you. He felt his breath hitch as his emotions overwhelmed him at the thought of this happening to you. You immediately registered the sympathy in his eyes and the fact that he seemed completely distraught, his own eyes nearly brimming with tears.
“Hey, I’m alright, it’s alright, J” you said, not fully grasping the look in his eyes.
He took his hands away, but didn’t step back from you as he lifted his own shirt. You could make out the faint remains of a twisted pattern of vines that ran up his side. Your hands flew to your mouth in shock.
“JJ…” you cautioned. Despite how much you desperately wanted this to be true, you both knew that this could be a coincidence, that that happened all the time. Your eyes met his and you could see the longing shining in them as they met yours, unwavering.
“Pinch me” he said, holding out his arm.
“What?” you asked.
“Pinch me, hard, do it,” he said again, pushing his arm closer to you.
Part of you wanted to know the truth, needed to know the truth, but a larger part of you was scared, horrified for this be a coincidence, and what that would mean for both of you. The idea that JJ might not be yours had your chin wobbling as you looked at him.
“Please, gorgeous, I need to know” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.
You reached out tentatively and pinched the skin on his forearm hard enough to leave a pink mark where your fingers had squeezed. Within seconds you could feel the tingle on your own skin, your emotions bubbling up as you laughed and then cried, JJ grabbing you by the shoulders, desperately trying to read your emotions as you pulled up your sleeve to reveal the rose that had bloomed on your own arm, matching his own. He looked down as tears welled in his own eyes.
“D-Do it again” he said, now that he could see it, holding out his arm.
“JJ” you said through your tears, urging him to accept what was in front of him.
“Do it again” he said, and as you pinched him a daisy bloomed next to the rose, leaves tangling together. He watched the pattern, willing himself to accept that this was much more than a coincidence, to accept that he could have this, have you, that you were made for him.
He pulled you into his arms, burying his head in your shoulder as you shook, your arms circling him and hands grasping the back of his shirt like a lifeline, unwilling to let him go.
“My God, oh my God” he muttered next to you as he rocked you back and forth.
“W-wait” you said, pulling back reluctantly to look at him. His eyes were blown wide, totally focused on you.
“What is it, beautiful?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.
Your hand came up to cup his face. “Last year” you whispered, tracing your finger under his eye, across his cheek, running it over his lips, tracing all the places you seen flowers on your own skin. He hung his head, pressing his forehead to yours.
“My dad” he said simply in reply as he realized, reluctantly, that you now knew better than anyone what he had been through.
“I’m so sorry” you whispered.
“It’s okay. I’m okay now” he reassured you as his hands reached up to cup your face. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
You nodded as your eyes met his, your mind still reeling, trying to piece together what was in front of you: this boy, with his long hair, his tender eyes, his perfect smile, his infectious laugh, his warm hugs was it, was yours, forever. You smiled at him and he smiled at you as his mind pieced together the same thing.
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked and you laughed in response. “I wanted it to be you. From the moment I met you, I wanted this” he said. You nodded vigorously in agreement, your instant connection so many months ago making so much sense now.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.
You nodded more vigorously as he brought your lips to his.
He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in you, but was reassured by the fact that he’d have eternity to do so as he pressed his lips softly to yours, savoring the feeling, and the way you pressed into him, opening up to him almost immediately, grasping his shirt and pulling him against you, against the counter as you hummed in response, your pain long forgotten as the pleasure of his body, his heart beating against your own took over. He ran his fingers into your hair as his tongue tangled with yours and he swore nothing in the world would ever compare to this.
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taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller
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killsaki · 1 year
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implode — there’s only so many feelings one can hold in, especially with bakugou blood in their veins.
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bakugou katsuki x little sister!reader
6.7k | minors dni | read on ao3
cw / tw : incest, drugging, hinted noncon gangbang, scummy!denki+sero+kiri, aphrodisiac, weed, alcohol, fingering, creampie, reader calls bkg ‘bubba’.
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is it hard being the sibling of a prohero?
of course! they disappear for days to weeks at a time—leaving for training, meetings, press events, and then for missions. you go from having them all to yourself, to sharing them with the world. from being their number one fan, to merely feeling like one amongst a million. and there’s so many things to worry about, from them going to work and never coming home, to a villain coming after you out of spite of being captured by said sibling.
those all sound logical answers to the question, normal ones. hence why you’ve practiced saying them so many times in case anyone ever asks.
but, truly, you knew most of those were things you’d never have to worry about. not when you’re the younger sister of none other than bakugou katsuki.
your brother being, well.. himself, was enough to keep any thoughts of danger from your mind. he was too fast, too strong, too skilled, too protective for anything to ever happen to either of you. but this peace of mind only gives room for you to dwell on other things.
like the social media ‘famous’ girls who just don’t shut up about how hot your brother is—which shouldn’t bother you so much, not in the stomach churning, phone gripping way that it does. and you could blame your intense reactions on the fact that you have to see it literally every time you try to scroll down your timeline, or that it’s just weird that your brother is suddenly getting so much attention.. but that's less believable than the first excuse to you.
and then there’s the out of context candids posted in tabloids of him saving civilians, who understandably look at him so longingly, and then there’s a picture painted of him as some kind of bachelor. to make matters worse, said online articles become almost impossible to escape no matter how much you try—partially thanks to your old school ‘friends’ sending them to you asking for all the details to share with their group chats, as if you’d tell them.
to top everything off, your brother, as doting as he is, never has time for you anymore. despite how you live with him, have your own room and bath in his unnecessarily large condo, and even have a card to his bank account for anything you could possibly need—still, you rarely see him. he’s so consumed in his work, from partols to missions, and when he’s not on the clock he’s forced to do press and modeling for whatever goodies they want to slap his picture onto.
and you could never hold that against him, not when he’s been working towards this his whole life. but still, having just a moment with him could cure all the thoughts that hang heavy in your mind daily. just a second to be reminded that your brother is yours, all alone. that you’re the only little sister he’ll ever have, the only girl he’ll ever need.
luckily for you, a day comes that your brother gets a day's break—more like he’s forced into a vacation as he never takes any days off. and he’s able to lounge about, meaning that he’s sitting on the couch in sweats and bouncing his leg waiting for someone to call his phone saying he can finally come to work as if being away from it was excruciating. you could giggle at the thought, what person besides katsuki would rather be out fighting petty criminals than relaxing on their own couch.
“did you hear me?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looks over at you.
you shake your head, too caught up in your thoughts to realize he was even speaking to you.
“the guys want me to go over for a bit. i won’t be gone long.” he repeats before turning back to his phone screen as he finishes typing.
your heart jumps into your throat. tonight was exactly what you’d been longing for, time with just the two of you, so you could reassure yourself the importance of the role you have in his life. so that you could have katsuki all to yourself. so that you could pretend for just a little while, that he’s just your brother again, not the hero you have to share with the world.
“i wanna go too.” you spit without thought.
he shoots you another look, lifting a brow as he blinks at you. “i want to come hang out too.” you say again as you chew at your lip, unable to back out of the situation your loud mouth has already gotten you into.
“no.” he replies back coldly, pushing himself from the couch before stretching his arms up, revealing the bottom of his toned stomach as he does so. “there’s going to be a lot of people, and drinking.” he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes before mumbling on. “and denki’s gonna be there.”
you snap your gaze up to him in confusion about the mention of a certain friend of his. but, he doesn’t let you get any questions out, heading off towards his room to get ready to leave. you pad right behind him, arms crossed while you walk, letting out huffs every few minutes just to remind him how you’re not going to give up. you sit on his bed as he collects an outfit to wear and little things he needs for a shower, noticing how he avoids making any glances in your direction.
it’s not until he’s already fully showered and starting to dress himself that he cracks, groaning as he looks at you.
“go fuckin’ get dressed.” he orders with out any actual malice in his tone. “once i get in the car, i’m leaving.”
your brother is many things, but a liar is not one.
so, you race to your room, tearing into your dresser to slip into that one outfit you’d been holding onto, hoping to wear the next time you’d gotten the chance to go on an outing with katsuki. though, you’d pictured something with more room for alone time, you suppose it would work at a party with his old friends too.
you’d just finished touching up what you need in the mirror as you hear his car engine start up, giving you only seconds to force yourself into your shoes and jog out to his car.
“you stay by my side until we leave.” he looks over at you, while you reach over your shoulder for the seatbelt, his crimson eyes squinted warningly. “i mean it.”
he didn’t mean it.
it’s not even half an hour after you arrive, barely finished shoving your way through the sweaty bodies crowded in someone’s living space, hardly enough time enough to adjust your ears to the shitty music and screams of laughter—something catches your brother's eye, to which he leaves you in the hands of his old classmate. ‘be back in a minute’, he says, pushing you into the red head’s side. but it’s not a minute, it’s been thirty and you haven’t managed to spot the blonde mess of a head, not even from your seat on the kitchen’s counter over the crowd merely feet away.
“what’s wrong?” kirishima raises his eyebrows slightly at you from behind his solo cup.
“just expected to be with kats’,” you huff, fingers twiddling with the end of your skirt. “kinda the only reason i came.”
he nods, glancing down into his drink before peering over his shoulder.
“want a sip?”
you know that you shouldn’t, how mad your brother will get at the both of you if he shows up to find you wasted and slung over his best friend.
“it’ll help you relax, at least until he gets back. i won’t let you drink too much, i promise.”
you can’t resist the small smile he gives. he’s so warm, safe. being with him is almost the same as being with katsuki, almost.
one sip turns into two cups, and suddenly it’s not just you and eijiro anymore. sero and denki showed up somewhere along the way. but, it’s fine, you think. they’re heroes alongside your brother, and they’ve known him long enough to know any better. only, in your slurred thoughts, that voice in the back of your mind starts to hope otherwise.
they’re all undoubtedly handsome, the three of them much taller than you despite the height difference amongst themselves, and all so strong. there’s sero with his shaggy black hair, signature grin and pretty ring clad fingers that grip the cup he’d been babysitting since he’d walked over. denki and his pretty pink lips he never stops running his tongue over, his slightly whiney voice and golden eyes that just get so much deeper when he looks at you. and then of course, kirishima, who’s just so unreasonably big, length and width—wait, that's… not the right words. but now you wonder—
“what are you smiling about?” the blonde asks from where he’s propped on the kitchen’s island across from you.
you shake your head, biting your lips when you realize how caught up in your thoughts you let yourself get with them still right in front of you.
“i was just thinking.” you let out, trying to look anywhere but at kirishima.
“thinking about?” the voice pipes in from beside you, resting his head on your arm as he leans back to look up at you. your heart races a bit when you can physically feel how close he’s gotten to you without you realizing.
“yeah, you’ve been so quiet. not really living up to the bakugou name.” sero shakes his head with fake disapproval.
“my brother’s not that loud.” you giggle, knowing it's a lie before it even hits your tongue. “i was just thinking about how i never see you guys, you’re so different than you were when i met you back at the graduation.” you sigh. “he never lets me go out with him when you guys invite him.”
you miss the look that hanta and kaminari share, how the corners of the blonde's mouth perk up for a split second before he paints on a confused expression.
“when do we invite him out?” he asks, tilting his head slightly when you look up at him.
you nearly mimic the movement when you register his words.
“always?..” you ask, but glancing at the dark haired man and the red head who share the same confused expression, you don't need an answer. “but he… i’m so confused.”
you can only blink, staring at the black side of the fridge, thinking back on the rare nights that he gets off with enough time to do anything besides shower and sleep. how he’d knock on your door, letting you know he was running over to one of ‘the guys’ house before it got too late. he was never gone too terribly long, but that’s just how your brother is. you always thought he literally only went to say hi and came home—wanting to get enough sleep for another full day of hero work. that’s the only thing that made any sense.
“hey, don’t worry about it.” kirishima’s large hand has somehow found its way to rub soothingly at your side, arm now wrapped behind your back.
“i’m sure he could’ve meant midoriya or something.” denki still wears a straight face, speaking with faulty concern.
sero stays quiet while he pulls out his phone, scrolling through something and finally starting to sip out of his cup.
“i should go try to find him.” you go to slide off the counter when denki speaks up again.
“i think you should stay with us.”
the words send a gut wrenching feeling to your core, your body screams to get away, but you fight it.
“why?” you dumbly ask, the smallest bit of curiosity keeping you.
“your brother’s busy.” he shrugs, bumping sero’s shoulder with his own.
the long fingers you were admiring minutes ago faint against yours as he hands you his phone, the screen showing a man you recognize unmistakingly as your brother, dressed in the outfit he’d worn tonight. his arm snug around some girl's lower back, ducked down with his mouth to her ear, the camera’s quality is shitty but even so, you can still see the way their bodies are pressed together. you feel your heart sink, though, you’re not entirely sure why.
you let yourself get slotted back into kirishima’s side, finding a sense of comfort in the weight of his arm around your shoulder as they walk you to the glass doors at the back of the house.
“don’t looked so bummed little baku’!” denki shoots you a grin. “we’ll keep you entertained for the night.”
the air is warm outside, not helping to cool your cheeks that are still hot from the alcohol. the four of you end up sitting on some cushioned benches near the middle of the yard, surrounded by small bushes. it’s much nicer than being inside, but you’re not entirely sure why they brought you out here. not until sero pulls out something rolled and a lighter. you watch as he puts it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling til the end burns red without the flame. you forget to look away whenever he exhales, giving him the chance to catch you watching him.
“you want to hit it?” his voice suddenly sounds like silk, acting like ties as it’s doing everything to pull you in despite the way your nerves are still screaming at you.
“i’ve never smoked before.” you laugh awkwardly. “my brother would kill me.”
he flashes that big toothy grin, shaking his head for the who-knows-what time that night and you know you’re in for it whenever you see your brother again. but just for this second, you think it’ll be okay.. if he’s busy with some girl when he told you he’d be by your side for the night, then you can have fun with his cute friends.
“he doesn’t have to know.” sero pulls you back to the moment in front of you. “come here, i’ll teach you.”
you’re moving without thinking, giggling again at the way he shoo’s denki from beside him so that you can sit. he teaches you how to breathe it in easily, but how not to take too much. and you do exactly as he says, letting him put it on your lips, you pull in a slow but shallow drag. holding it until he tells you to let it out.
“good girl.” hanta smirks, the warmth of his hand holding your jaw as he moves the damp paper back to your mouth. “now do it again, just like that.”
you listen, thinking nothing of it. thinking nothing at all, actually. you can’t. the flood of warmth lingering in your veins from those drinks that you’re just realising were much stronger than you thought and the clouds now fogging your consciousness, too much to form any kind of thought.
“here, try this.” you hear from the side- no, in front of you. denki’s leaned over with a diamond shaped candy on his palm.
you hesitate, but not able to talk, body already working overtime to remember how to breathe properly.
“it’ll just make you feel good, i just took one too.” he reassures, gesturing again for you to grab it. if you could feel your body right now, you’d feel every single inch of it aching to run. you’d feel that same feeling in your stomach as it started to churn. maybe you would’ve listened this time. but instead all you can feel is the race in your chest as you eye the light blue against his pale skin.
“c’mon.” kirishima’s showing off his sharp teeth with how wide he’s grinning, trying his hardest to be just as reassuring as he was to get you to drink with him a while ago. “we’re your brother's best friends, you know we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.. even if he is busy.
you take another deep breath, nodding. right. katsuki wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
“let me.” denki’s suddenly standing over you, candy- pill pinched between his fingers, a grin just as big plastered on his face. “open up.”
you miss the devilish intent hiding behind those smiling faces. you miss the almost telepathic conversation they all have in the glances they share as you flutter your pretty eyes closed, letting your tongue fall out for denki to drop the pill on. it hits your taste, dissolving almost immediately. you swallow the bitter grainy bits, grimacing as you only have your spit to get it down with.
“give it just a few minutes.” the blonde speaks again, much more eagerly this time. which should alert you, all of this should.
you could blame it on the alcohol you have a low tolerance for, on the weed you’ve never smoked, on the fact you trust anyone who attaches their name to your brothers. but really, it’s because you’re dumb. you don’t think anything bad can ever happen to you. not like this. not when your brother is so close.
“it’s kinda warm out here.” you mumble, shifting uncomfortably on the padding. you feel the heat across your cheeks and down your neck, skipping to your stomach that warms slowly, trickling down between your legs and across your thighs. “think i want some water.”
you slowly push yourself to stand, body feeling heavy as you move. you don’t catch how they all follow right behind you, until sero—no, denki’s arm slinks its way around your waist as you walk. he pulls you away from the path back to the glass door and towards the gate in the big wooden fence.
“it’s too hot in there.” he tugs you again when you weakly attempt to pull away. “kirishima’s place isn’t too far from here. we can just hang out there while you cool off.”
you shake your head, mind racing to how badly you just want something to drink, and to be with katsuki. mentally cursing out the stupid girl in that picture for taking your brother away from you, for stealing his attention when you’re the one who needs it. and you curse yourself, for not listening to his warning when he said denki would be here.
“denki.” you drag your feet, doing anything to attempt a fight against the push of his much stronger hands. “what was that? the…” it’s hard to think, even harder to push those thoughts into words and say them aloud “the pill. what’d you give me?”
“i told you,” he smirks, glancing behind you and nodding one of the men over. “it’s just to make everything feel better.” stepping aside, kirishima’s heavy arm replaces denki’s, locking you under it and forcing you forward. your heart races at all the implications that could have. you don’t even notice you’re shaking until he wraps his other arm around you, bending his head down to graze the shell of your ear, whispering into it
“it’ll make things easier,” something about his tone makes you want to vomit. “just don’t think about it, pretty.”
“don’t get too friendly, dude, i’m the one who set this up.” denki bites, pulling his keys out as the four of you near a car. “there’s no way you get first.”
sero snickers again, sighing as kiri opens his mouth to snide back about how he’s been waiting two years and that you should at least get to pick that much. you can’t really make it out anymore, all you can hear is your own heartbeat banging in your ears.
you try and struggle out of his hold, which only makes them all laugh in turn and your heart falls into your stomach. you’re with pro heroes, if anything bad is going to happen to you here, at their hands, there's no way you’re going to fight your way out of it.
sero’s fingers wrap around the handle of the car’s back door when the voice booms out your name down the small hill the house is sitting on.
you can physically feel kirishima tense up and his heart start to race, you can hear the way sero and denki stop breathing in unison. you can even picture the way they all freeze without having to look, you can imagine the absolute fear in their face as they stand there, gaping at your brother.
his red eyes dig into you before taking a second to glance at the men around you.
“why do you look so fucked up?” he barks out, brows furrowing deeper with each step he takes towards you. “where the fuck were you guys about to go?”
he’s eyeing kirishima now, tugging you by your wrist out of the red head’s hold and into his own, gripping you as if he lets go, you'll get stolen away.
“she said it was hot in there.” kirishima shrugs awkwardly, face stiff.
“and who the fuck said you could take her anywhere?” bakugou tilts his head face twisted dumbfoundedly at the boldness his old friend suddenly seems to have.
“my place is just up the street she wanted to—“
“and why the fuck do you have her around denki?” you can feel bakugou’s skin grow hotter to the touch with each word he spits. or maybe it's you that’s getting hotter. god, it’s fucking hot.
“i didn’t drive.” he shrugs again, breaking eye contact to look over at the other blonde.
“she’s not a baby bakugou, she can be around whoever she wants.” kaminiari says smugly, like the idiot he is.
“i’ll kill you.” your brother doesn’t hesitate with this threat, and it wipes the smile off denki’s, raising his hands slightly in defence.
you use the hold he has on you to wrap your arm around his, feeling a great sense of relief pressed against him.
“he didn’t touch you did he?” katsuki’s voice is still gruff when he talks down to you, but you don’t mind it.
you know that he did technically touch you, but not enough to hurt anything. and if you answer truthfully it’ll just drag this out even longer, and all you want is to be wrapped around him. so, you shake your head, and you hope he doesn’t hear the way they all sigh in relief.
your brother doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you away towards where he’d parked. the second he turns around, you peek back at the men. kirishima has his head tossed back, hand over his chest as he takes in a deep breath, sero, leaned against the car shoulders shaking with laughter while denki curses and slams the driver side door shut.
“i’m hot katsu’” you whine when he unlocks the door for you.
“how much did he let you drink?” he scoffs, leaning across you and buckling your seatbelt for you as if you’re unable.
you huff, watching his strong arms reach over your body. his warm chest coming down to press into yours, that you find is so sensitive. so much so that a small whine escapes your throat before you’re able to register it he’s already pulled back looking down at you. one hand on the top of the car as he leans over, eyebrows pinched together.
“‘m just hot, bubba.” you assure, face burning in embarrassment and whatever else was setting your body on fire.
he immediately blasts the AC as soon as the car is on, and in the second that it satiates the burning under your skin, you remember.
“who was the girl?” you question, voice somewhere between shaking and slurring. you shouldn’t be asking, there’s no reason for you to do this right now—or at all. “the one you left me to go see.”
katsuki just stares ahead for a second before his jaw tightens.
“and where did you see me with a girl?” he asks blankly, like he already knows the answer.
“sero had a picture. they said you were busy, that’s why i stayed with them.” you answer truthfully, hoping he’d driven far enough to not want to turn back.
“i didn’t know her, sero at introduced us.” he scoffs, scowl resting on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the drive.
the heat begins to dig into you again, the cool blow the ac’s aid only a temporary fix.
“why? why didn’t you come look for me? text me?” he asks, his short fuse burning already.
“you were busy.” you reply shortly, too focused on the ache going on in your lower half.
“and? if i knew that shit face was going to try fucking with you we would’ve left as soon as we got there.” he shakes his head, voice raising only slightly.
“you were with a girl, katsu! i didn’t want to interrupt.” you throw your head back against the cool leather, smoothing your hands out over your skirt, across the tops of your thighs as if that would help.
“you’re my little sister, that’s completely different.” he scrunches his face up as he glances between you and the road, the same thing he does anytime anyone says something he thinks is the slightest bit dumb.
“is it?” you ask.
“yes.” he snaps back. 
“so if i wasn’t your little sister, you wouldn’t care?” you mumble, shifting at the warmth you feel start to spill into your panties. “or if i wouldn’t have come with you tonight, would you have left with her?”
he sighs, exasperated.
“what the fuck are you saying right now?” he keeps glancing at you, rushing a reply.
“why did you leave me to go see her?” you groan. “why didn’t you stay with me? why didn’t you wanna just be at home with me?”
he only gets your name and a curse out before you cut him off, the heat itching at you becoming too much.
“katsu’ ‘m so hot.” you mewl, raking your hands down your body, reveling in the momentary coolness under your own touch. you can feel the way he stiffens slightly next to you, but the previous tension is out the window, almost forgotten.
“i have the ac on.” he states, keeping his eyes on the road as you near the building the two of you call home.
“it’s inside katsu, ‘m hot on the inside.”
he stops the car with a jerk in the middle of the parking lot, snapping his head over towards you.
“what did they give you?” his question is sharp, voice filled with anger once again.
“denki gave me candy—no, a pill.” you toss your head side to side, thighs rubbing together mindlessly. “to make me ‘feel good’—make everything, no—something feel good that’s what they said, but i just hurt.”
you can hear death threats spill out his mouth as he watches you squirm in the seat.
“i’ll take you to the hospital.” he mutters, putting a hand on the shoulder of your seat to look behind him as starts to back out.
“no!” you whine, grabbing his hand and pulling it to your lap. “i don’t want doctors touching me.”
he keeps his eyes on you as you put his palm against your inner thigh, watching how you keen against the seat when his skin touches yours.
“want you to help me, bubba, please.” he pulls his hand from you, face contorted with.. something before he’s rubbing his palms over his face and pulling at his hair. you realize what you just asked and for the umpteenth time tonight, your heart sinks. but this time you're sure that if you stood, it’d be sitting on the seat underneath you.
“i’m—katsuki, i’m sorry.” you start to babble out apology after apology, which soon all runs together and becomes broken as you tear up, voice cracking every other word.
the blond throws his head back, hard. quickly changing gear and moving his car into a private parking spot. you’re still crying when he pulls your wrist, strength easily shifting you over the middle console of his car and into his lap.
“tell me that you need my help.” he blinks up at you, holding your waist just above his lap. 
you nod, hoping it’ll suffice, but it doesn’t.
“i need you to help me, katsu—no one else can.” he drops you onto his lap, fingertips digging into the softness of your sides. “please, make it better.” you breathe, shakily. 
he uses his hold to drag you across his lap, the friction making you drop your head onto his shoulder. pleasure shooting up your spine, small whines of his name getting lost in his neck as he keeps grinding you down onto him until your thighs start to shake, your moans turn into breathless whines and you’re crumbling against him as you make a mess all over his jeans…
the two of you sit in panting silence for a few minutes before he tells you to move, that you need a shower. and like you always do, you listen. following him inside and discarding your clothes from your still buzzing body in silence. but as soon as the showers water hits you, you’re burning again. the ache between your legs coming back stronger than before, the burn in your stomach twice as hot and the need is too much.
you don’t hesitate to make your way right back to his room, body still nude and dripping all over the floors as you do. but you don’t care—your brain and body only knows one thing right now and it’s that you need your brother.
“what are you doing?” he strains, turning his head back towards the drawer he was sorting through as soon as he takes in your naked body standing at his doorway.
“i still hurt, katsu.” you whisper, not caring if he heard you or not. just wanting him to give you more than what he gave earlier.
“i already helped.” you can hear pain in his voice and it makes you want to cry. you wish you didn’t put him in such a position, that you would’ve just been grateful and stayed home—but you need him, it’s all your mind and body can tell you, you need him.
“help again.” you practically demand, craving him too badly to be embarrassed or think much at all about what you were doing. your hands land on his shoulders and pull yourself up to kiss at his neck trying to entice him.
“i can’t.” he groans low, but doesn’t attempt to push you away, letting you drag your lips across all the skin you can reach.
you don’t say anything else, not until you manage to pull him down by his hair to look at you.
“make it better.. like you always do.”
it’s the pebble that cracks the glass, his hands grip your waist and all but throw you onto his mattress. you only have a moment to gasp before he’s hovering over you.
“say it again.” he commands, voice rough as one of his hands makes its way to the apex of your thighs. your eyes flutter at the vibration of his words against your chest, the knot in your stomach already tying itself.
“make me feel better, bubba, please.”
there was a reason behind why he’s left the condo the few times that he does get to sit in the house, a reason why he doesn’t want to be alone with you for too long. it’s not that he doesn’t have any restraint, but he’s known thatif something ever happened, where the little sister that has always been the exception his selfish attitude asked him to do anything like this—even without whatever the fuck it was that denki gave you—he’d do it.
he drags a heavy finger along your slit, up to your still swollen clit making you gasp against his lips as they ghost your own. he teases only for a second, not able to bare you being in pain when he’s there to do something about it, just like he’s always been. he uses your excessive slick to rub harsh circles over your clit, it sends your eyes rolling back, it’s so much more practiced than the pathetic frottage he pulled in the car.
“need more, katsu, please.” you push your hips into his hand with the little bit of strength you have, desperate for as much as he’ll give you.
he drops his forehead to your shoulder this time, looking down as he moves his fingertips to your entrance, pushing two in without warning. he immediately works away with them, curling into your swollen, most sensitive wall and fucking into you with a strength that could only be possessed by such a high ranking pro hero. your wetness sticks to his knuckles with every pull before it squelches obscenely loud when he pushes back in.
“kiss me, katsu.” you whine.
he brings his lips back to yours, red eyes flickering between both of your eyes for a moment, waiting for you to take it back. you don’t, instead, sliding your hands from where they sat on his shoulders up to twist into his hair.
“you can pretend ‘m someone else… just please kiss me.” his fingers pause their movement for a moment, and he pulls away. you start to whine, from the loss and out of fear you’d said something wrong again.
“why would you say that?” you trip over any word that hits your tongue. but you don’t need to speak, he does it for you. “i don’t need to do that,” his fingers pick their pace back up, drawing wonton moans from you that you wouldn’t be able to bite back if you tried. “not when i’ve always pretended everyone else was you.” he admits.
your heart leaps in your chest just as he presses his mouth into yours, the kiss is littered with teeth and spit—but neither of you can find a reason to care.
the familiar feeling starts to coil in your stomach, your hips moving on their own down on his hand to chase the feeling of ecstasy but it never comes, you cry out as the pressure fades.
“more.” you cry softly against his lips, keeping your eyes screwed shut so you don’t have to face any look that he might give you. “‘need you.”
but, he complies, tugging himself out of the sweats he’d thrown on after his shower and kicking them off to be dealt with later. he doesn’t waste any time teasing, rushing to give you what you want—what you need, to make his pretty little sister feel good the way he’s been cursing his brain for imaging for the longest time.
he lines the thick head of him up with your already stretched hole, dropping back down to your lips as he eases in. the pop of the head of him pulls a gasp from the both of you, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust to it, knowing with how you’ve been aching to be filled all night that you can handle the stretch. which is exactly what he gives you, his fingers were nothing in comparison to the girth of his cock.
it stings, making your eyes tear up, and drags whine after whine from your throat. katsuki catches them in his mouth, swallowing them and shushing you while he continues to push in until he’s at the hilt. you babble out senseless ‘thank you’s while he pulls back slightly, never separating your hips and his own by too much. his hips make a circular motion, grinding back into you slowly, pushing the trimmed light colored pubes at the base of him against your ever throbbing clit and making you squeal from the pleasure of it.
he repeats it over and over, curved length of him dragging along your g-spot until youre twitching, your mouth hangs open, sounds falling against his lips as he drinks all of them in. your hips rise every few strokes trying to meet him, to egg him on to go harder, to give you more without having to ask for it, but he just wont. keeping his slow, sensual pace, as if he was fucking you at his own leisure and not because you basically forced yourself onto him
“love you, bubba.” you whisper drunkenly, lips dragging across his soft ones as you speak.
his hips stutter at your words, strong arms move from holding himself over you to grabbing the underside of your knees and pulling them slightly, wrapping your legs around him. “ah- my katsu.”
“keep telling me.” he grunts, sliding his hand down to your waist where your thighs fold over them. “tell me i’m yours, say that you’re mine.”
he finally picks up his antagonizing pace, hips still swirling into yours, pubic hair scratching against your bud with each push. the head of him presses deep against that spongey spot with each sway, heavy balls sticking to your leaked juices as you chant out the i love you’s like a mantra, like it’s the only meaningful thing that you’ve ever said. it’s not long before your legs start to shake, his cock hitting all of the right nerves in your throbbing cunt.
“don’t stop.” he repeats when your mouth drops wide open, orgasm creeping up on you.
“mine! you’re mine!” you cry as your vision turns white and your walls spasm around him. “‘m yours, all yours, bubba.” you whimper as the ache in your cunt becomes the pain of overstimulation.
your words and the steady throb of your clamping cunt ultimately bringing him to his end with you. you feel the heat simmer down as he fills you, warmth spilling out even as his cock still plugs you. and you couldn’t be more thankful for denki being such a scumbag.
you don’t have enough strength to stay awake past that, all of your energy left with the last orgasm. at some point you wake up, you’re clean between your thighs and cuddled up on your brother's warm chest. you shift only an inch and you could feel him jump awake to pull you closer, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before you drift back to sleep with small smiles on both of your faces—happy to be your brother’s girl.
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a / n : obligatory bkgs little sis tag : @vampireloverz <33 thank you stevie for inspiring me to write this in first place!!!! +++ happy birthday to The Guy !!!
reblogs + feedback appreciated !
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hwanchaesong · 4 months
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━⁠☞🍽️ Second Course: He treats you so well, and you're naive enough to believe that only you have the key to his tasty heart. Or his pants. 🥢
🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor
wc: 1.0k
genre & warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, crying, there's another girl, lovers to exes, pure heartbreak :D , Yeji of ITZY special appearance etc etc
a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
ps. i've already reposted this but it still won't appear under the tags that i've put so ig i'll just let it be lmao. imma just post it the way it is bc i'm tired of trying and thinking on what to do to make it work.
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At the tender age of 13, you took note of everything that was written in an article that you accidentally opened and read on a fishy website entitled, 'Signs that your partner is falling out of love.'
You thought it would help you avoid conflict with a future partner, it would help you evade an impending heartbreak, but nothing can prepare you for the real world, it seems.
Your boyfriend, Park Seonghwa, was the definition of a picture perfect man.
He's kind, respectful and loving. He had all the love languages.
He never shunned away from skinship, and most of the time, he's the one who's initiating it. Giving you hugs and kisses even in public without any ounce of shame.
Even when he's busy, he still gives you the time of his day. Often, he would choose to lose sleep if it means that he'll be able to talk and see you after a long, tiring day at work.
He's also the type to buy 'just because' gifts. Randomly walking around a park then he'll see this cute bunny keychain, buying it immediately so he can give it to you because the bunny reminds him of you.
Fixing collars, tying shoelaces, cooking you food— he does it all, and naturally too. The way he pampers you like a mother hen is the sweetest thing you have ever seen in a man.
The most important thing though? It's his ability to listen and soothe all your worries away. He tells you that if you're overthinking, you can simply say it to him and he'll gladly give you all the assurance that you need.
So, what went wrong? Where did it go wrong? Is there something wrong with you?
The situation at hand made you question yourself, then again, are you really the problem here?
"The least you can give me is a reasonable explanation!" you yelled, gripping Seonghwa's arm that was holding his suitcase, attempting to stop him from leaving you without any form of closure.
"Well, what do you want me to say?" he snapped, raising his usual soft voice at you, something that he has never done before.
"A reason! Explanation, anything! Why are you suddenly breaking up with me?!" you blinked rapidly, the itchiness in your throat makes it harder for you to breathe, and the sinking feeling of dread in your stomach is urging you to vomit.
This is so fucking messed up.
Just last night, Seonghwa was fine. He even made love to you in your shared bed, whispering how good you are for him.
Last week, he brought you flowers. Last last week, he took you to a nice restaurant for dinner. Last month, he took you to Maldives for a summer getaway.
Nothing changed and everything felt the same, thus, the current happenings don't make sense.
You come home from work and the next thing you know, your significant other of how many years are mumbling nonsense of going separate ways. That you two are better off without the other.
You just don't fucking understand what the hell went wrong.
"I don't love you anymore."
You never knew that a mere sentence that is composed of five words is more than enough to break your heart, your world.
He doesn't love you anymore?
"Since when?" you weakly muttered, wanting answers that will probably hurt you more.
"For the last few months."
You winced, there were no signs of him not loving you. He must be lying, his shaky chocolate orbs say otherwise.
"Okay." you speak, no more energy to fight for him, to fight for a battle that is not worth the blood, sweat, and tears.
Just like that, you watched him walk away. Out of your home, out of your life, and you were left alone. Crying your heart out, gripping your chest as it physically hurts as well, the pain searing through you.
Two weeks later.
Your friend, Yeji, was making a ruckus, she was basically shoving her phone in your face.
"Y/N, look! Isn't this your ex?"
You peeked at the device, and your heart dropped along with your mood.
What the fuck?
That is your only reaction at the photo posted on Seonghwa's instagram because it hasn't been a month, and here he is, with a girl that he's being lovey-dovey with.
A girl.. a familiar one.
"That fucker." you uttered menacingly, your fists tightly clenched on your lap as your friends worriedly glanced at you.
Isn't that the one you asked him about? The fucking girl that was lingering around him all the damn time like a wretched fly. He told she's nothing but a co-worker.
Sure. Kissing your co-worker on the cheeksin a field of maple trees is very professional, isn't it?
You are not sure what to feel. He broke up with you so he could date that girl, it seems.
Should you be thankful? Or should you curse him until he dies?
Either way, now that you're thinking about it, maybe he really didn't fall out of love with you, just that he found someone that he loves more. There was no proof, but there was evidence of his upcoming betrayal.
The way he was always on his phone, and maybe, all the things he had done for you before were nothing but distractions so you wouldn't notice what he was doing behind your back.
A lady's gut never lies, yet you choose to ignore it, and this is what you get.
You laughed yet the tears dripping down your cheeks is the complete opposite of your actions.
Not once did you hear him apologize during the argument about the break-up, and my god, did you hate him so much for entering your life like a storm and leaving such a mess behind.
Park Seonghwa is no cheater, but he is a raging traitor.
Then again, no one is at fault here but you, as you should've seen this coming. You should've been alert, using your rationality instead of your useless heart, and now you're paying the price for his treason.
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taglist:
@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @shakalakaboomboo @xdannix @nsixns
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Text
Let Me Love You - 8 || End
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Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader
Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.
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You only muttered a noncommittal "hmm" when you heard your father's words. Matthew, on the other side of the phone, could only sigh.
Before the divorce, you would chat with him, sharing your thoughts and feelings. But now, your responses were short and distant: "I'm fine," "Yeah," "No," and "Thanks."
"I'm sorry. It's all because of my mistakes," Matthew said, his voice heavy with regret.
'That's right,' you thought bitterly, your grip tightening around the phone.
Matthew's voice softened, filled with a sadness you couldn't ignore. "Don't think about it. Get some rest."
You nodded silently, even though he couldn't see you, feeling the emotional chasm between you both widen further.
After ending the call with your father, you felt lonely. Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Bucky: "Good night."
Despite the earlier conversation, a small smile tugged at your lips, a warmth spreading through you. Bucky's simple message felt like a lifeline, a reminder that someone cared.
🎓
The next day, you felt a knot of nervousness in your stomach as you stepped onto the university campus. The thought of facing everyone, especially after the recent events, was daunting.
Bucky was beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in your anxiety. He glanced at you, noticing the tension in your expression.
"Hey," he said gently, "you've got this. I'm here with you."
You gave him a small, grateful smile, trying to draw strength from his support. "Thanks, Bucky. I don't know what I'd do without you."
He nodded, his eyes full of reassurance. "You don't have to worry about that. You're not alone in this."
While walking to class, you and Bucky noticed that nobody even glanced your way. It seemed like everyone was absorbed in their phones, gasping and starting animated discussions.
Suddenly, a cheering scream erupted from afar. You looked around, puzzled. "Something to celebrate?" you asked, glancing at Bucky.
Steve joined both of you, a wide grin on his face. "It's for the football team. Especially Ari." He held out his phone, showing you the photos.
You gasped, your eyes widening as you read the article.
"They chose Ari Levinson instead of Lloyd," said Steve. The headline and accompanying photos detailed the unexpected turn of events.
Bucky leaned in to get a better look, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Wow, that's a big change. I wonder what happened."
The campus football team had two standout players: Lloyd Hansen and Ari Levinson.
Lloyd was the main star, possessing a charisma that the camera loved. He thrived in the spotlight, his confident demeanor drawing attention on and off the field.
In contrast, Ari preferred quiet, shying away from the limelight. Despite his reserved nature, his skills on the field were undeniable.
But how did such a sudden change occur when everyone knew Lloyd was the chosen one?
You remembered what your father had said the previous night.
Reaching for your phone, you called him. "Dad?"
Matthew answered, his voice calm yet firm. "No one will underestimate you this time."
Unbeknownst to you, your father was at the campus, standing in the headmaster's office with the football coach and Lloyd. He looked out from behind the blinds, looking at you from afar.
Matthew ended the call and turned his attention to Lloyd, who sat with his head down, looking pale and defeated.
Matthew stepped closer, his voice low and stern. "Is this how you repay me? You promised to protect my daughter."
Lloyd clenched his fist, his knuckles white with tension. He knew Matthew's history as a former NFL player and the football coach at their previous high school. He had never anticipated that Matthew had the power to derail his path to the professional league.
Matthew's presence was imposing, a silent reminder of his authority.
It was Matthew who had trained Lloyd and provided the recommendation that helped him secure the scholarship. Some called him biased since Lloyd was dating his daughter, but as long as Lloyd made you happy and showed big potential, Matthew was willing to support him.
But now, this kid had cheated on his daughter. This sinful mistake reminded Matthew of his own past missteps.
He decided to teach Lloyd a valuable lesson. Not everything could go as he planned.
Matthew adjusted his jacket buttons and looked at Lloyd with a steely gaze. "You're good. Keep training. Perhaps another team will scout you."
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Lloyd to ponder the gravity of his actions and the consequences they had brought upon him.
Lloyd clenched his fists, frustration boiling as he punched his knees in anger. His life felt crumbling before his eyes, all because of that woman.
Where the heck was she now?
Nicky stood in the bustling airport, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She had paid the hacker to erase her digital footprint, to free herself from the consequences of her actions. Yet, despite her efforts, an ominous sense of impending doom lingered in the air.
As she went to the priority lounge, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. With trembling hands, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Hi, Dad."
The voice on the other end was filled with disappointment and anger. "You still brave enough to talk? You idiot. I thought you had quit from those bullying things. Your mistakes will ruin the company."
Nicky gasped, feeling the weight of her father's words like a physical blow.
"I've received the files of your bad deeds," her father continued, accusing. "What the heck is wrong with you, Nicky?"
Desperation flooded Nicky's senses as she tried to find the right words to explain. "Dad... wait. I can explain—"
But her father's voice cut through her protestations. "You want to leave the country. Good. Don't ever come back."
The line went dead, leaving Nicky feeling as though her world had crumbled around her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to process the magnitude of her father's words.
As if on cue, the cashier at the priority lounge interrupted her thoughts with a grim announcement. "Miss, your credit card has been declined."
Nicky's heart sank further, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Everything she had planned, her escape from the consequences of her actions, was slipping through her fingers.
Nicky wondered who had orchestrated this downfall and who had made such an effort to help Y/N.
It was all because of Bucky.
He had chosen an investigation team to find out, just as he had predicted. And the culprit was none other than Nicky herself.
Instead of resorting to public humiliation, Bucky had chosen a different path—blackmail. He understood the power dynamics at play, knowing that hitting Nicky where it hurt the most—her privileged lifestyle and her father's reputation—would be the most effective form of punishment.
Nicky had always been a spoiled princess, shielded from the consequences of her actions by her doting father. But now, with her pillars of support crumbling around her, she was left vulnerable and exposed.
Bucky remained at the university, orchestrating events from behind the scenes. He calculated his moves carefully, knowing that Nicky's downfall would have far-reaching consequences.
As Nicky's world began to crumble, Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Justice had been served, and he had played a crucial role in ensuring that the truth came to light.
Karma has hit her like a ton of bricks.
🏈
After the aftermath, you resumed attending classes like usual. However, you couldn't help but notice Lloyd's somber demeanor as he walked through the halls like a mere shadow of his former self. It tugged at your heartstrings, prompting you to take action.
A few days later, as you and Bucky walked side by side, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Lloyd. This time, there was a subtle shift in his demeanor. As he drew closer, he whispered a heartfelt "Thank you."
A small smile graced your lips in response.
The reason behind Lloyd's gratitude stemmed from your intervention. You had reached out to your father, pleading for Lloyd to be given a second chance. Lloyd received an offer from another team.
You understood that everyone makes mistakes, especially in their youth, and you couldn't bear to see Lloyd lose his passion and purpose.
Having grown up alongside Lloyd, you knew that football was more than just a game to him—it was his life and his dreams. If it were taken away from him, he would be left adrift, without direction or purpose.
So, you did what you could to help him reclaim his footing and pursue his aspirations once more.
You couldn't bear the thought of being the one to crush his dreams, not after everything you and he had been through together.
It was the least you could do to offer him this final gift, a chance to reignite the fire within him and pursue his aspirations once more.
🎓
As time passed, graduation day finally arrived. The campus buzzed with excitement as every student donned their caps, gowns, and proudly held their diplomas.
Amidst the sea of graduates, you watched with pride as your boyfriend, Bucky, took the stage as the valedictorian to deliver his speech.
It was a moment of triumph, made even sweeter by the journey you both had taken together. Bucky's patience and unwavering support had finally won you over, and he now held a special place in your heart as your boyfriend.
Turning around, you spotted your parents sitting together in the crowd. Despite the awkwardness that lingered between them, you were grateful that they managed to put aside their differences for this important day.
Your gaze then shifted to Lloyd, who had undergone a noticeable transformation. Gone was his once-smug attitude, replaced by a newfound humility and maturity.
Though you only caught glimpses of him from afar, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his growth, silently wishing him the best in his future endeavors.
And as for Nicky, rumors circulated that she was stuck in another country, working hard to find her way back home. While her fate remained uncertain, you couldn't help but hope that she would find redemption and a path forward.
As the ceremony drew close, you couldn't help but reflect on the tumultuous journey that had led you to this momentous day. From the heartbreak of discovering your first love's betrayal to the humiliation inflicted by his other girl, it had been a path fraught with pain and challenges.
Yet, amidst the darkness, there were glimmers of light—your father's unwavering support and the gentle presence of your new boyfriend, who was a beacon of sweetness and kindness in your life, like an angel sent from above.
Despite the trials and tribulations, you felt a sense of optimism. With the scars of the past serving as reminders of your strength and resilience, you looked towards the future with hope and determination.
Each step forward was a testament to your courage and resilience, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them head-on, guided by the love and support surrounding you.
-end-
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Thank you for everyone who reading this stories🩷💙🩷
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Author Note:
Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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notroosterbradshaw · 9 months
Text
slow dancing in a burning room - seven
word count: 6k
warnings: nsfw 18+, language.
part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe
a/n: no man's land. I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate your effort to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x
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You’d be lying to say you hadn’t been distracted all morning… not in the best frame of mind, half heartedly urging young teens, “Just another 50m, you got this”, because God knew, you certainly did not have this.
But you were just so tired. You hadn’t been sleeping well, you were just eating enough to say you were eating. You just felt average and it made you so angry how much you’d tangled yourself with Bradley. Self-care had taken a backseat to bury yourself in the pool’s redevelopment, you weren’t bothering with your morning ocean swim - and of course, it had nothing to do with bumping into Bradley on his morning run.
Nothing at all. 
Annie was on your case to pull yourself from your funk where you continually reminded her you were not in. You were in fact quite productive. Between the work, pool and constantly moving things around the apartment (you wished you'd never started to be honest because you just couldn’t make things work as well as they did before you nearly moved), your days were pretty full and you went to bed exhausted.
You’d just finished the early session when the first text came in. Shivering at your desk and wrapped in a sopping towel, just wanting to release the wet, tangled bun on top of your head and a hot shower to dechlorinate your irritated skin after teaching all morning, you knew protecting your peace was going to be difficult today.
Today, Bradley was to be arraigned. 
It had been a beast of a process for him. The last year his life had been so tumultuous - from deciding to move back to California, the highs of falling in love with each other, deciding to take that ridiculously quick step of moving in together. He gets the keys to his parents' villa and renovates it to build a life and a family. Everything he’d wanted for so long, to Maverick’s return. The only family he had that had destroyed all his hopes and dreams, was the Dagger mission… and subsequent crashes. His injuries, forced leave, and his mental health shattered to you leaving a man who didn’t know how to cope and not giving him the benefit of the doubt to try and help more. Your guilt crushed you in ways you’d never imagined you could ever put on another person. 
You bent in every direction for him, and it still wasn’t enough.
But the hidden truths. Your trust in him was shattered, and protecting yourself, something you were always taught, what we’re all taught but sometimes unable to walk away from someone who can’t change… but Bradley needed more help than you. And when he was put on forced leave, that was the final straw because… 
Because he almost died and when you found out through all the mistruths, he broke you. Maybe he didn’t mean to, maybe he wanted to protect you, protect what you had, but the world was bigger than what is redacted at the end of the day.
But without honesty, what the fuck did you have together? Very little, it turned out. Sex wasn’t going to save you, nor the way your heart found a new rhythm when Bradley was with you. Or how safe you felt in his arms, the way his big hands snuck under your shirt and wrapped around your soft tummy to pull you closer to his strong chest - 
Natasha Trace: He has been found not guilty. Don’t ask me what miracle or deity is on his shoulder, but to be released on Article 92 is wild! 
And you were so relieved and not just because you couldn’t compartmentalise didn’t mean those who were overseeing his case couldn’t. That was their job. Their job wasn’t to love Bradley unconditionally and feel the hurt you did for him… with him. Alone. 
It must have felt revolutionary. Your fingers found the characters to reply somehow. You were shaking, your phone trembled in your hand. Where were your glasses?!
You: How is he? Is he okay?
Natasha Trace: Disbelief. Absolute disbelief. Relief. He’s okay.
You: Thank God, thank you for letting me know, Nat.
Natasha Trace: Of course. We’re going for a celebratory drink. Do you wanna join us, or is that still the stupidest question in the world? 
You: The dumbest. 
You: But thank you.  
Natasha Trace: Can I tell him I told you?
You: I don’t think he will care, but ok. Tell him I’m happy for him and hope he’s excited to get in the air again.
Natasha Trace: I think he will get orders pretty quickly…
It sure seemed like a hint. Talk to him now before you lose him for months on end again. 
You: I’m sure he’s very excited about that. MEDHOLD? 
Natasha Trace: Awaiting TBI and psych assessment but he thinks he’s pretty close.
You: Don’t tell him I’m crossing my fingers for him.
Natasha Trace: …no, never 😉
After showering and dressing with a little more pep in your step thanks to Bradley’s good news, your brain got the best of you and you thought maybe it’d be nice to send him a small, “I’m really happy for you. I hope you enjoy getting back up in the skies” message.
Retrieving his number that was no longer your ICE, no longer the top of your Favourites, and unblocking it made your body quake, and like it was a warning, the barrage of texts you’d not received overwhelmed you.
One by one, begging, pleading for your notice, the raw, the anger, the language.
He had given you a few days of quiet before the texts started.
Bradley 🐓: Love, are you sure this is what you need? I can give you anything, let’s just please try and make this work. I’ll give you some time, whatever you want x
Bradley 🐓: I got a Not Delivered back. You’ve blocked me?
Bradley 🐓: You’ve blocked me. Shit.
Bradley 🐓: Okay, I get it, you want space, I’ll give it to you. 
Bradley 🐓: Hey you… checking if I’m still blocked.
Bradley 🐓: YEP. 
Bradley 🐓: Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d ever block me. 
The thing is, you never thought you’d ever have to block Bradley and as you eased back in your chair, your inherent need to nip something irritating to him made your fingers itch. 
Bradley 🐓: Okay, if this is what you want, I’ll leave it to you to come back to me.
Bradley 🐓: I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I hope the door didn’t hurt you too badly. 
Bradley 🐓: Still fucking blocked. Ok. I won’t bother again. You've made your point. On me for stupidly not believing we are at this place.
You had to wonder if it was even worth sending one of your own. You couldn’t match his tone, his anger and disappointment. The congratulations text just didn’t seem to cut it but before you knew it, the “Natasha told me you’ve been acquitted. I am happy for you, Rooster. Enjoy getting back to work, I know you’ve missed it” text had written itself but it didn’t mean it was as easy to hit the send button.
And it felt colder than it sounded. You hoped he was sitting on his phone and ready to respond but when you were still waiting the next day, you had to admit you weren’t very surprised. Like he cared that you were happy for him, he deserved to move on and not deal with you and your bullshit in his life anymore. 
You desperately wanted to block him just like before, heart not prepared to see his name in your notifications again.
You hit send before you could think anymore and hoped maybe you were blocked on his end too.
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“Knock, knock. Favourite granddaughter is here,” you announced, the tiresomeness in your voice evident after the barrage of Bradley’s texts weighed heavily on you as you walked into your grandparents' home for a cheeky late lunch later that day. Washed and primped (washed and in your activewear, naturally. You were a swimming teacher, not a goddamn office drone), you wandered past the photo wall to find Grandpa and… Maverick in the kitchen. Well, fuck. Your luck was the worst.
There wasn’t a midlife crisis motorbike parked out the front… this would teach you to turn up unannounced. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” Grandpa smiled, raising his arm for you to fall under with a hug in greeting. “Whatcha doing here?”
“I, uh…” you tried not to stammer. “Lunch. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”
“Do you wanna sandwich or something?” Viper said, jumping into gear. “Can make a tuna melt - ”
“That’s okay, I’ll go,” you started making excuses. You didn’t want to be around Mav and your brain didn’t have the tolerance to try and fight anymore today. “I didn’t realise you had company…” 
Viper caught the gist and nodded slowly. “You gotta eat.” 
“I have food at home,” you told him but kind of waited for Maverick to take the goddamn hint to get the fuck out. This was your safe place; you didn’t need it tainted by Pete Mitchell. 
“I should probably make a move anyway,” Maverick said, knowing fully well that the discomfort in the kitchen was all because of him. How self-aware, you thought glumly.
“No, you stay,” you tried so hard to be polite, but the tension that bubbled in your bloodstream sort of made you kind of want to curse the day the Navy dragged him yours and Bradley’s way again. 
“No, it’s ok – ”
“Don’t Mav. I’ll leave. You stay,” you tried to bite back your exasperation but it certainly didn’t appear that way. 
“Hey,” Viper warned you. He wouldn’t expect you to talk to anyone like that. 
“Look. I’m real sorry, kid,” Maverick tried, and gee, age had worn him.  
You tried to remain passive, but the frown seemed to speak volumes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why were you so angry at him? Did Mav even know the impact he’d had on your relationship? How Breadley would come home like a bear with a headache, angry, snide. And for that, you just couldn’t seem to disconnect your past from the present and it only made you seethe further. 
“I know I should have done this before because I know I'm the catalyst of a lot of Bradley’s problems. And in part, that burden fell on you.”
You wanted to tell him you didn’t know what he was talking about, to forget it, but as every emotion you had bubbled under the surface, you hissed back, “Well, it’s all very convenient now, I suppose. You get your kid back; you both get back up in the air and live happily ever after.” 
“That’s fair,” Maverick just seemed to take the lash of your tongue in his stride. How pathetic.
“Hey,” Viper said again, a little more warning in his voice.
“Grandpa, Mav almost got Bradley killed,” you said finally.
Viper’s gaze drifted to Mav. “I know the whole story, sweetheart.”
Taken aback, you look at your grandpa. “What?” 
“Bradley came and told me the whole thing.”
You were slow to respond, probably because your brain was overprocessing Grandpa’s reply and the sting it caused. Because Bradley came here when he couldn’t come to you? Because even though he loved you, he felt he couldn’t share this, so he came to Grandpa. 
And he couldn’t come to you?! 
“Jesus, what did you do so right to get some honesty out of him?” you retorted. 
“He was scared, kid. Bradley has already lost everything. He’d lost you. He thought his career was gone too. He needed someone to talk to.”
“I was right there, taking care of him when no one else was able to,” you could feel the rage build within you. “I was right there and he didn’t tell me until he was told - ”
“Because you were the hardest to tell, sweetheart,” Viper told you, the evenness in his voice riling you more. Why wasn’t your blood as furious as you were?! “The person who means the most in the world, who may or may not already have a vendetta against the Navy. How was he going to tell you?”
“How was he going to keep it a secret? When he wakes up screaming with nightmares every night?” you demanded, and Viper nodded slowly because he knew – you remembered vividly the nights you heard Grandpa wake screaming and Nana begged him to calm for your sake. “He’s had PTSD from the Navy since he was four and he still thinks it’s the only place he belongs.”
He belongs with me, you wanted to scream but thankfully managed to bite back.
“He will always have something to prove. With you, without you,” Maverick said your name evenly. “Regardless of anything that ever happened. He barely knew his old man and for a while, he got away with no one knowing Goose Bradshaw was his old man - ”
“So, what… now he’s got more to fight against?” you muttered.
“In a way, yes.”
Oh, you could fucking punch him and resisting it was becoming futile. You turned to him. “Please don’t say another word,” and there was so much threat in your cautioning. You felt feral, every emotion you’d been pushing down since everything exploded was waiting precariously on your tongue and in range was the one who it all centred around. 
Maverick nodded and for a minute, you thought he’d respect your decision… but nope. “I know him so well. It’s what he hates most about me. I knew his father better than he ever did and Rooster is just like Goose. Always bred for more. Always striving for that next part.”
“If you never came back, he’d still be with me, and we’d be happy. Since you walked back into his life, you unapologetically ruined him again after he fought for everything he has now. And I was there. Trying to fix him when he didn’t know how to fix it himself. But it fell on deaf ears because he didn’t trust me enough to tell me - ”
“He trusts you, kid,” Maverick told you evenly. “You are the only one he trusts and that is what makes it worse for him.”  
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It was like a car accident. Bradley’s hand was so close to knocking on the weatherboard of the Metcalfe residence and hearing you, the absolute venom in your tone as you lashed Maverick inside. Bradley had never heard you like this, even when you fought with him, your voice was never as cool and callous. 
“I loved him. I wanted my future with him, and it was taken from us.”
“There’s still time - ” Mav tried and for a moment, Bradley stopped breathing because if what came next from your lips gave him the slightest piece of hope, he was going to walk inside and take you in his arms, right where you belonged and make you see reason if it was the last thing he ever did.
“There isn’t - he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s got plenty of other options out there, Mav,” you hissed. “You think I’m stupid enough to think he hasn’t moved on? When I saw him at the bar a few weeks ago, he looked right through me. Then his date - whatever she was - followed him out. Trust me, I’m aware Bradley has moved on.”
The men remained quiet, because they knew Bradley hadn’t moved on. Bradley was not thinking about moving on. Bradley was only thinking about you. 
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“You didn’t get to Viper’s and invite him for a drink?” Maverick asked a while later, cold beer in hand and sliding another across the bar to Bradley, free Bradley, Bradley who was ready to get up in the air again and get his life back on track after one of the worst periods of his life.
And shit, he’d had a lot of them in his short time on the planet to compare. 
He gave Mav a wary side-eye. “No, by the time I got back from the gym, I thought it was rude to pop over around dinner time,” Bradley lied spectacularly, and he knew Mav could see right through him. He'd watched his godson from the moment he walked in, rigid, terse and for a guy who had the world at his feet again, Mav knew something was still troubling him.
“Talk to me, Bradley.”
“Mav, I heard her.”
“Heard who?” Mav was clueless to Bradley’s less-than-subtle hints. Who else was she?
Bradley sighed, easing against the sticky bar as Javy came past, shaking his shoulders happily. “Congrats, brother. So fuckin' happy for you!” he exclaimed as Bradley gave a sheepish grin in reply and Javy said he’d be back with drinks shortly. 
“Bradley,” Mav got his attention again.
He sighed, sipping his beer to wet his throat. “I heard her yell at you, at Viper and I almost didn’t recognise her voice because of the anger laced in it. And it was because of me she was that heated.” 
Of course. Bradley had come to invite Viper for a drink and caught your vitriol instead. Mav sighed, contemplating his next words. Because even though he’d just got him back in his life, he knew his fractured relationship with Bradley was going to take time to heal fully. Knowing what he knew about Bradley, if he pushed too hard, he would resist. He was so headstrong, and at times, unable to see the forest for the trees, but Mav persisted carefully anyway. “Something tells me, like you, Bradley… she’s had this vendetta lined up for a while. Viper, her old man, now you, and probably me because of my involvement in the last few months... years, I suppose.”
“Doesn’t give her the right to take it out on anyone,” Bradley reminded him.
“She probably never has, and that’s why this smarts so much. You’re more alike than you think. Allathis,” Mav motioned around them at the Naval paraphernalia hanging around the bar. “It’s all you both know. She hasn’t felt the joy from it you do. She lost her faith a long time ago. And for now, you are collateral damage from years of turmoil.
When did this motherfucker get so smart? It left a bitter taste in Bradley's mouth he could be receiving such frank advise from MAv after everything they'd been through.
"But if it told me anything, son, it's that woman loves you and that’s what is making everything so much harder for her.” 
Staring hard at the older man, Bradley guzzled the cool beer down his throat and for once, didn’t know what to say, so Maverick continued, “If anything, have faith that she is still crazy about you. And it’s not over, but it will take time. And it’ll need to be the right time.” 
“When’d you start dishing out all this maturity?” it was all Bradley could find himself saying as Mav broke into a smirk that was almost permanent on his face as a younger, much more careless man. The years had matured him. Gone was the flashy, wide unbeatable grin that was constantly in competition with Ice for the biggest ego and accolades, replaced with a softer version, one that had listened and learned from the auxiliary noise around him. 
One of Mav’s biggest regrets was never settling down and having a family. When it didn’t work with Charlie all those years ago, and it took so long for him and Penny to see eye to eye on where they wanted to be in life, he knew he had to step back and re-evaluate how to get where he needed to. And that didn’t always mean fighting for it, it sometimes meant to take that step back and let fate take its course. 
When Goose died, Mav tried to step in to be the father that Bradley had lost, and for a long time, Bradley let him try and fill that void of a father figure. But it only took one betrayal on Mav’s behalf to become Bradley’s enemy and the resentment that Bradley had for him shook Mav to his core. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take again. He knew better and would do what was needed to support his family the way they needed it. This time, he was going to be everything Bradley needed even if it was to his detriment.
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It was only a few days later after your showdown with Mav that you’d gotten word Bradley had flown out, and you were free as a bird to leave the house and see what the outside world had turned into while you’d turned your back on it. Why, you wondered at this time, you’d bothered, was another thing.
“So, if you don’t have a boyfriend, why can’t I buy you a drink?” the young officer asked as you chewed your tongue and could swear, you tasted blood. What was it with these Navy fuckboys who thought anyone was fair game after a few drinks? Not all that much had changed, not even the quiet seething Bob displayed a few seats up, prepping himself to step in.
What was wrong with you to think coming here was a good idea… at any time… anymore?
“Because I have a drink,” you explained quietly again, showing he couldn't take no for an answer, your glass. “I don’t need another. I appreciate the gesture, but no.” 
“Come on, just one.”
“Holy shit – ” you finally snapped but you felt his body heat behind you before you could get the words out. You’d know it anywhere. When did he walk in? …how much had he seen? He wasn't supposed to be here!
You stiffened and maybe more agitated than you were before. 
“Lieutenant,” the young pilot straightened, and it all but confirmed you knew Bradley Bradshaw, who was supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the middle of the big blue was behind you. You were going to kill Hangman. Kill him.
“Nice to see you, Rhodes. Heard you got blown out of the sky today…” Bradley said, the amusement in his voice paramount but you didn’t once let your guard down. You didn’t need him to fight your battles for you. 
“Uh, yeah…” the meekness in the young officer’s voice was obvious. You didn’t always realise the command Bradley had over others. Of course, you knew how people were drawn to him, but seeing him with a subordinate was infatuating, to say the least. You didn’t often see him in a position of real power, and it would be shameful to admit, it was sexy. 
“And by Hangman no less,” Bradley laughed quietly, that amused chuckle that you knew had a whole other hidden meaning. “Would probably be a good idea to stop drowning your sorrows and prepare for tomorrow, huh?”
“Guess so…”
“And apologise.”
“Look, I didn’t think you guys were dating anymore – ” Rhodes tried but didn’t offer an apology.
“What difference does that make?” you snapped, confidence growing in Bradley’s presence. You felt him stand a little closer, his heat prickling your back, behind you you wondered if he noticed it too.
“If you think that is what this is about, your ego is more outta check than you’re letting on."
You heard Rhodes mutter, “I’m sorry,” while he skulked away, and you finally breathed as Bradley stayed quiet behind you. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you heard him mutter as he joined his other friends. 
“You okay?” Bradley asked gently. 
“I’m fine,” you reassured him, the slight snipe still in your voice. But you didn’t dare turn to face him, because if you looked up at him, that would make this whole thing real - that he was right there with you. You weren’t surprised when your stool was slowly spun towards him and his friendly, impish smile graced his handsome face… his beard was well grown in and manicured to the navy’s specification, his sun-kissed curls a lot longer than you’d ever seen on him and you swear, he’d never looked more handsome. “Hi.” you managed and God, he looked desperate to be kissed. You missed those plump, beautiful lips. 
“Hello,” he replied, holding your gaze. Not hard, just… tender. 
“Thanks. You didn’t need to… do that.”
“I know I didn’t. And I know you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself. I just wanted to make sure that little pissant knew what he was getting himself into if he went ten rounds with you.”
And you couldn’t help it as you bit back a giggle, hiding your burgeoning laughter behind your hand. Because if he knew one thing about you… it was that you were the dirtiest fucking fighter around and that poor kid would have been laid out with your lash of the tongue alone. “Well, you’d know…” you admitted as he licked back a smirk of his own and hummed. “Can I buy you a drink to say thanks?” you offered softly, and you weren’t sure he’d even heard you in the commotion of a Friday night. You barely heard the sound of your voice from the raging heartbeat in your ears.
He scratched the back of his neck, looking back at the fellas… all of whom were keenly watching on. Unabashed and gawking. Fuck those guys, he rolled his eyes and came back to you. “I shouldn’t…” 
“Get her a drink, you goddamn pussy!” Hangman mouthed viciously and Bradley pretended he couldn’t read his wingman’s lips. He wished he couldn't.
“Yeah, okay. The least you can do is buy me a beer.”
“Hangman has a tab,” you informed him, that devious glint in your eyes shining. 
“Top-shelf whiskey,” Bradley replied confidently.
You gave the order and times it by two, Bradley raising an interested eyebrow. You stayed together in a strange silence for a while, both waiting for your drinks to whet your palette and bring up the courage to say something that was simply… kind… to the other. God knows your last conversation was anything but. 
Taking your first thankful sips, you both laughed as the exact same line came out to the other, “How have you been?” you both dropped your eyes bashfully, uncomfortably and you tried asking him again.
“Not too bad,” he admitted. 
“I was told you had shipped out.” You would still kill Hangman.
“Checking up on me?” his upper lip twitched as you ducked your head. “Phoenix?”
“Hangman,” you corrected him as he chuckled quietly. 
“Dick,” he muttered shortly. “They extended my medical leave just another few days. Paperwork.”
You looked at him, he looked right as rain. 
“And you were right about the shitty shrink stuff,” he pointed to his head while he read yours. “PTSD.”
Well, yeah, you wanted to say it was the least shocking thing he could tell you. “Oh. Oh, Bradley,” you said delicately.
He nodded and shrugged. “Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve seen that whole look my whole fuckin’ life, I just can’t stand you looking at me like that too. This is what I’ve been trying to avoid from the get-go.” 
“Then you’re gonna really hate me after this,” you gently touched his ribs, knowing their previous injury and left your hands to skim his cotton tee before wrapping him in your grasp, the muscles tense under your touch. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you murmured into his chest, and he sighed, his breath against you shuddered. Your shampoo invaded his nostrils, and goddamn, if he didn’t miss that fuckin’ perfect scent and how it lingered. 
He couldn’t fight it if he tried and he wrapped his arms around you, trying to desperately not lose it and do all he really wanted to do – cry. Cry for him, cry for you, cry for how badly you’d both fucked up. And he’d be lying to say that being in your arms felt so good. He missed the warmth of your curves, maybe a little less than he remembered, and he breathed you in, his love. And the hardest thing he ever had to get over.
Because, unlike his other losses, who left his life, wholly? You were there every day while he tried to make it without you. That sting of trying to get over you in every facet of his life and he just couldn’t move on from you. And that made it worse. 
“It’s not all bad,” he said, lips so close to your ear. “A long story short, I did get clearance and I’m out in 48 hours. Just for the record. The counselling has to continue weekly.”
“Just like me,” you said, a little sing-song. 
Bradley scoffed, humoured. “Yeah… just like you. A pair a’ damaged goods.”  
“Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed, breaking the revelry as Bradley’s arms were covered in cool liquid and he figured, so was your back.
“What the fuck?” he pulled back, alarmed as he looked at some of the younger officers getting into each other’s faces, glasses hitting the floor, drinks flying. It was broken up as quickly as it escalated, Bradley pushing you gently behind him to avoid getting caught in the fracas. “You okay?” he asked over his shoulder as you were reaching for the napkins on the bar just out of your reach. He moved before you and retrieved them, helping you dab away whatever had - yep, drenched you, the back of your hair dripping and the back of your dress sopping. 
“Yeah, just a drink or something,” you sighed.
“Lemme help,” he said, carefully turning you around and tenderly mopping up the bare skin on your back. And he’d be lying to say that if he just reached a little lower, he’d be able to kiss that freckle behind your ear, but blinking that image away, he knew this was not the time to be fantasising about the woman whom he fantasised about every night. 
He sighed and removed his shirt, white V-neck underneath. “Take this,” he said your name a few times over the commotion in the bar after the almost fight.
Raising your hands, you told him not to worry. You’d just take off and get a shower. “It was a bad idea coming out tonight. You know when you feel it’s not the time?”
“Well, you did think I had already flown out, so you probably should have trusted your intuition.” 
And you stared up at him, watching him biting back a grin and as he wrapped his shirt over your shoulders, watching you slip your arms into the sleeves, all he wanted to do was pull you in tight again, kiss your hair and tell you how he was still so in love with you that it was keeping him awake at night, that it was you that he still jerked off and willingly spilling into his hand and all over his stomach to. He imagined you riding him, giving him the messiest head like only you knew how, kissing him while he made love to you, and he held your arms trapped above your head as you trembled beneath him, as you came around him. 
“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked, chewing his lip, and fixing the collar on the shirt. But you were so swept up in his smell that lingered, and as you tightened it around yourself, your eyes changed just for that flash that told Bradley that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just him who was feeling the way he was. “Can I drive you home?” 
You shook your head. “It’s okay. I know you have things to do tomorrow - ”
“Come on,” he offered gently, nudging his head towards the door and as he collected your bag and urged you to wander out before him, you knew it was going to take all your strength to just allow this to happen. “Lemme get you outta here.” 
And who were you to argue? Because honestly. You’d follow him anywhere. The man you loved, the man you’d hurt so badly. Nodding gently and seeing that sweet gentleness in his honey-coloured eyes, you let him usher you ahead, his strong hand easy on your lower back, just like it was any other night, the way he’d guide you through the masses, softly, securely, protectively. 
You wriggled as the cool alcohol pressed into your back, and Bradley flinched, thinking you wanted his hands off you – when it couldn’t be any further from the truth. He took his palm away and opened the door as you exited. “You really don’t have to drop me home,” you told him. “I’ll just grab an Uber.”
“It’s fine, really. I had, like, two drinks. Probably best I call it a night and make sure I’m organised anyway,” he replied, leading you to the Bronco. He unlocked your side and naturally opened the door, offering his hand to help you step in.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking his offered warm palm and he helped hoist you in with the slightest of assistance. Buckling up, your eyes followed him to the driver’s side, and he just looked so handsome. You were surrounded by him with his shirt and cologne filling your senses. It all felt too familiar and that scared you terribly. He was fiddling with the keys before popping in and hopping into the seat. He gave you a small smile as he buckled up and gunned the engine, unsurprisingly Al Green low through the stereo. 
It was a quiet trip towards your apartment, keeping your eyes on the passing coastline, scared if you looked at him, you’d do something stupid and just revelling in being the closest you’d been to him in months. 
“You see they demolished that old villa near Penny’s place?” he mumbled. 
“Yeah, how ridiculous,” you said to him. “It was such a gorgeous home. I think they’re dozing it for apartments or something,” you continued the small talk as you passed his villa. You noticed the ladder out front and scaffolding around the roof. “How’s it all going here?”
“Ahh, okay,” he shrugged, trying to focus on the road. “You know, a lot to be done still.”
“I can imagine,” you agreed, studying his face. His profile was completely different with his neat beard, but the rest of him was bigger and stronger. He’d laid countless hours into the gym while on leave and you could see the proof. Your eyes travelled over his tanned biceps and the way the white tee sleeve strained over them, following the vein to his inner elbow and wrist, hand clutching the gear shirt, long fingers wrapped around it. “Thanks for the lift home.”
“Anytime,” he replied, peeking a look back at you and a small smile crept to his handsome features, knowing he was sprung. But alas, so were you. “What?”
You shook your head gently, mortified inside that he caught you checking him out. But what were you to do? He was always so incredibly handsome, and you just missed being near him, being around his warmth, even if it wasn’t something you could bathe in like you used to. 
As much as he made you nervous to be in this proximity again… you felt incredibly content just being with him. His quiet calm always had a way of reassuring you, even before you started dating. 
A few more moments in relative silence aside from the stereo, Bradley pulled into the apartment carpark and put the car in park.
Ask him in, your brain screamed.
Kiss him, it added.
Fix this, your brain had officially melted down.
And when all you muttered was a “thanks” for driving you home, for giving up his shirt, for being the bigger person to be able to do both… you sunk into a funk that you just weren’t expecting tonight. Because even though the night was a happy accident, there was so much unsaid.
“No problem,” he said, hands gripping the steering wheel like if you tried to kiss him, he would let you, like if you asked him in, he’d willingly follow. He was anticipating your next move but you didn’t know what it was. 
“Bye,” you unbuckled and opened the door, scooting out before you made more of a mess of everything than you had to now. 
“Night,” he said, sadly lips pursed together as you gently closed the door over and refused to look back as you went to the stairs and forced one foot then the next to continue climbing the flights until you were safely at your door. 
With one last glance back, you weren’t surprised to still see Bradley’s Bronco parked and you waved timidly, not willing to see if he returned the gesture before finding solace in your apartment.
You tossed your bag on the bench and made a beeline for your bedroom, spent. Mentally, your brain was fried. Physically, all you could think about was Bradley and how he could amp you up with very little attempt on his behalf. You wrapped his shirt tightly around you, taking in the Acqua di Gio that lingered.
You missed the way the scent drifted around the apartment and how much it truly reminded you of him. You carefully slipped it off and folded it just like he would have if it were him removing it before unzipping your damp dress, the alcohol stinging gently against your skin and discarded the dress in a pile at your feet. 
Needing a hot shower, you rinsed yourself of the mess of the evening but as you hung your towel up after your evening skincare, Bradley’s cologne wasn’t lost on you in the small room. His smell overwhelmed you and as you moved towards the shirt again, bringing the collar to your nose, you knew the time had come to fix this. 
To fix you.
To fix him.
And to fix you back together.
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masterlist.
Big thanks as always to @sometimesanalice for helping me get this fic over this line when this chapter really needed it! x
A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
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otomehonyaku · 3 months
Text
Diabolik Lovers More,More Blood Vol. 12 Ruki ☽ 7Net/Stellaworth Tokuten CD ☽ Monopolising Her
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Original title: 彼が貴女を独り占めするCD Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (kindly provided by @karleksmumskladdkaka!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
I took a little break from translating this past week but I'm back at it again ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ Thank you to @otomeheroines for suggesting this tokuten to me! It was pretty cute and now I know the Japanese words for stuff like 'chlorine' and 'limescale' lol
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
00:00 Hey. I’m coming in. You still aren’t ready? If we don’t start soon, we won't be done in time. Hurry up.
[You’re surprised.]
I’m shocked. Don’t you know what day it is today? I told you well in advance. It’s our once-in-a-month big cleaning day. Though I assume you could tell by the mop and dust cloth I’m holding. You sure are thickheaded. Anyway, I bought a new mop. Our previous one was getting pretty old, and I got this one on sale for quite the bargain.
[Ruki shows you the mop.]
It’s pretty suitable, don’t you think?
[You mope a little.]
What’s that? I can’t hear you. Alright, well, you know the plan now. Hurry up with your preparations and follow me. I left Yuma and the others in charge of the groceries. The two of us will do the cleaning.
[You feel that it’s a daunting task.]
It’s not that big of a deal, is it? It’ll be alright if we do it together. Well then, let’s start with the kitchen.
01:22 [Ruki is scrubbing something.]
Great, the grease is coming off quite nicely.  I’ll take care of the ventilation fan, you do the sink.
[The two of you clean side by side.]
You’re a dimwit most of the time, but you do come in handy with simple tasks like this. I don’t even have to order you around. I see no harm in you lending me a hand, I’ll give you that.
[You ask him whether you still have enough cleaning supplies.]
Yeah, I restocked the citric acid and baking soda.  They’re on the bottom shelf, so use whatever you need. Just make sure to ventilate the room when you use chlorine detergent. And don’t forget to use latex gloves, too.
[You make a face.]
What’s that face for? You look like you have something to say.
[You tell him he’s a professional.]
That’s all?  Those are the absolute basics when it comes to cleaning. I’m not asking for your praise. But… you could say I’ve got the fundamentals down. Citric acid works well against limescale. Baking soda is good against grease stains. And neutral detergent is good for a lot of things, too. Chlorine, however, could react with other products and release toxic gases.  So you should avoid it coming in contact with acidic liquids at all costs. You would think this is just common sense.
[You’re getting frustrated.]
02:50 Stop complaining so much. I don’t remember the first time I heard these things, but I learned a lot about cleaning from a women’s magazine.  It had an article on year-end cleaning.
[You ask him why he would read a women’s magazine.]
Don’t misunderstand. I ran out of books to read, so I ended up getting it for the sake of it. I was desperate for just about any printed text. But come to think of now, it was pretty informative. It’s not so bad to learn things you can apply directly in your daily life. Besides, the magazine was a worthwhile read.  The articles it had on making dishes out of leftover vegetables were interesting as well.
[You tell him he reminds you of a housewife.]
03:30 Watch your mouth when you speak to your master. What about me makes you think of a housewife?
[You tell him you meant it as a compliment.]
Heh. And that would be a compliment how, exactly? Explain it in a way that satisfies me.
[You tell him his future wife must be happy that Ruki is so good at housework.]
Oh… you are so naive. Where did you get that idea from? That if I got married, my wife would be the happiest on the planet? You’re thinking in extremes. Let’s say that I would become someone’s husband.  If I did all the housework, that would certainly make my wife’s life much easier. But then again, that’s not all there is to happiness, is there? If my wife simply left all of the housework to me, she would spiral into depravity herself. She wouldn’t be able to live without me. Then again, there’s a certain charm in keeping a pet beyond its useful life (1), but unfortunately, I refuse to take someone like that as my wife.
[You wonder whether that statement includes you.]
Well, no, that’s out of the question. I don’t think you’re that dependent on me. We divide the housework equally and we both benefit from it. That’s not bad, is it?
04:55 Why are we even talking about this? Leave the talk about our futures for now. Come on, let’s put those hands to work again.
[You continue cleaning.]
[To himself] Good grief, that was uncalled for. But a future with her… If I’d be permitted to share my life with her, and the two of us could support one another, that would not be so bad either.
[You ask him what he was saying.]
No, it’s nothing–don’t mention it (2). After I finish the ventilation fan, I’ll get to work cleaning the bathroom. You do the living room. Let’s get this done before the others come home.
05:42 The bathroom is all done. How’s it going here?
[You tell him it’s going well, but…]
Hey, what are you doing on that ladder?
[You tell him you’re cleaning the shelves.]
Right, I can see that you’re wiping off the shelves, but that’s not what I mean.  I’m asking you what on Earth you think you’re doing. Knowing you, it’s no question that you’ll slip and fall from such a height. I’ve told you before to refrain from these kinds of things. Hurry up and get down from there.
[You quickly climb down.]
Wait, slowly! Haste will only–
[Lo and behold, you fall off the ladder. Ruki swoops in and catches you.]
Gosh, I didn’t think you would be that predictable. You actually fell. Or was this just a ploy for me to come save you?
[You apologise.]
Don’t just apologise. Learn from your mistakes, at least. Leave it. I’ll do it.
[Your face falls.]
If you’re going to pout, you should have just behaved in the first place. It would be a terrible misunderstanding if you thought I was angry. I know full well what a dimwit you are. You can’t anger me so easily. If you got hurt and I would have to take care of you, though, I would have even more on my plate. For example, if you broke a bone, that would make it difficult to move when I feed on you. Just keep that in mind. Next time, I’ll let you know if I need your help.
07:20 Why are you smiling like that? It’s creeping me out.
[You tell Ruki that he’s kind.]
Huh. You must be completely infatuated if you take those words for kindness. Though I was aware of that already, of course. If you can still move, go and sweep the hallway.  I’ll make tea when we’re done. I made an apple pie this morning, so we can have some of that, too.
[You’re excited.]
You shameful creature. To let yourself be lured in by food like that... You have to put in the work first, got it?
08:07 Looks like we finished right on time. Azusa contacted me and said they've just finished grocery shopping, too. The three of them must be pretty exhausted right about now. There were quite a lot of items on the shopping list I gave them. It had a month’s worth of daily necessities on it. Body soap, kitchen paper, laundry detergent, things like that. You can save quite a lot of money if you shop during the sales at the end of the month. Did you think I’d miss out on that? Well, it seems we’ve taken care of most of our chores now. We’ve restocked our daily necessities and the mansion is squeaky-clean. Feels good when everything goes according to plan.
[Ruki takes a sip of his tea.]
09:04 Besides, it’s nice to see the living room spotless. It’s as if the tea even tastes better because of it.
[Ruki puts down his cup, motioning towards the apple pie.]
Hurry up and take a bite.  Ah, but if you don’t want any, I won’t force you to eat it.   I’m sure Kou would appreciate the extra serving.
[You quickly start eating.]
Heh. Don’t choke on it. You know what’ll happen if you ruin my good mood. Or do you? You look like a hamster in a pet shop window with your mouth stuffed like that. (3)
[Ruki stands up and comes closer to you.]
Maybe I should start calling you that from now on instead of Livestock. Your mouth is covered in crumbs. No manners, huh?
[Ruki runs his fingers over your mouth. You’re surprised and drop your fork.]
10:02 Why are you so surprised? I only brushed away the crumbs. It makes me want to discipline you, really, but I’ll let you off easy this time. You worked hard today. I appreciate it. However, it would be a shame if the floor got dirty when we’ve only just cleaned it. I’ll feed you.
[Ruki breaks off a piece with the fork and holds it out to you. You try to refuse.]
You have no right to refuse. As your master, I want to reward you for your efforts. Be thankful and accept it.
[You take the bite.]
[To himself] If I could marry her (4) in the future, I wonder if our days together will be just as peaceful as this one. Livestock is quite the handful, but if we could live together quietly, just the two of us… that does not seem so bad.
飼(か)い殺(ごろ)し : Lit. ‘to keep and kill (a pet),’ meaning to keep a domestic animal beyond its useful life or keeping a person on the payroll without utilising their skills
Not a translation note but the way he talks in this drama CD fucking kills me, this man is secretly such a tsundere (and a clean freak. I love)
In Japanese these past few lines sounded really suggestive so I hope that vibe carried across…
 契(ちぎ)りを交(か)わす: Lit. ‘to exchange (wedding) vows.’ I just briefly want to mention that 契り is also a euphemism for having sexual relations even though he… obviously doesn’t mean it that way in this context but do with that knowledge as you will hehe
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dearlyjess · 2 months
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My Journaling Set-Up (As of Late)⭐️
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hi friends! ~
i have finally sat down to talk about how i journal. i get tons of questions related to my journals in my inbox, so i wqnted to dedicate a post talking about my three main journals - my diary, my planner, and my commonplace book. thanks so much for your patience, i hope this post will be helpful! 🤎
my journal/dairy
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this is my regular travelers notebook, which i use for daily journaling! i tend to make small collages in the corners, using stickers, scrap paper, or mementos from my day. i write about my day, usually in the morning or right before bed. some entries will be short, and some others are much longer. i like to write everyday but i do occasionally miss days. my favorite insert is the dotted insert from travelers company!
my planner
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for planning, i’ve been using my passport travelers notebook. since its summer, i have found this to be the perfect size! i use this undated weekly insert from travelers company, and i split each day in half. the left side is for any events or reminders, and the right side is for tasks. i plan on continuing this set up when i return to grad school in the fall, but i’ll use a blank insert for my to-do’s since i’ll have more tasks. i always keep a muji pen in the loop for jotting down tasks on the go! i tend to keep the pages minimalistic, so i’ll sometimes use a stamp or a sticker to spice the pages up.
my commonplace
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ah my commonplace book! i get the most questions about this, rightfully so because commonplacing can be very stress-inducing. i should start off by saying that i don’t use my commonplace book in the traditional sense. the term derives from the process of copying down passages with the intention of compiling others thoughts and writings. i use this method, but i almost always incorporate my own thoughts on what i’m reading and writing down. i can’t help it!
this notebook is the midori dotted a5, and i use the midori paper cover. i have a very loose indexing/categorizing system at the moment; green is for reading, purple is for my writing, and yellow is for etc. i use a graphite pencil to draw a light line in between entries. i commonplace the most about books and articles that i read, and then i love to do more long-form journaling and writing in here as opposed to my travelers notebook. i found myself overthinking my indexing system, which led me to not use this notebook in fears of messing up. my #1 advice would be to just start using your notebook, and index/categorize your entries as you go! the best notebook is the one that is used.
that’s it for my current journaling system! i seem to be in a good groove, so i’m hoping i stick with it. i’m more than happy to answer any questions you may have. happy journaling friends 💌
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roosterforme · 9 months
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The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.
Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32
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When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her. 
"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."
He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand. 
Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."
"I know," he replied with a small smile. 
"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.
He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."
"Will do," Judy muttered. 
Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air. 
He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like. 
Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too. 
Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page. 
He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.
"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.
And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started. 
Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret. 
"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.
Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."
A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas. 
Inviting you here was a terrible idea. 
You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts. 
"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap. 
"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"
"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."
Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."
He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."
You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"
Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."
You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."
"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht." 
You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw." 
Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."
The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."
He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school." 
You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."
Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."
You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"
"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."
Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip. 
Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."
You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."
The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"
Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid. 
He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw." 
The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."
You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.
"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"
Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."
------------------------------
You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."
"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."
He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."
You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."
"Where?" 
"Avio."
He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"
"Research and development," you replied smoothly.
His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"
Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."
"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."
"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.
"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."
Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."
Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."
When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian.  "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."
--------------------------
Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.
He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?
Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for. 
As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did. 
Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."
"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion. 
"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze. 
"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her. 
"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"
She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."
"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."
Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes. 
"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.
"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.
"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."
You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."
Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"
"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."
"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"
"Like you have anything else going on?"
Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"
You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."
Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."
"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir." 
Sir.
That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."
There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"
"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."
"How many should I pack?"
"How many do you have?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."
You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."
"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."
"Then you'll be learning from the best."
He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."
"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."
You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise. 
He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself,  before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.
Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.
Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.
----------------------
Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane. 
"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."
Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."
"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."
He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.
"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."
"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you. 
He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."
"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.
"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."
Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."
"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."
--------------------------
Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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chiprewington · 5 months
Text
Character Analysis on Chip Revvington, the Chainsaw Consultant.
Genuine Long Post Warning, as well as a LOT of images. This is going to cover literally everything we know about Chip (as of April 25th, 2024) and my take on what's provided In Canon (being his Cogs Ink profile, his Interview, the 1.3 News Article, and In-Game). This is my first try at an In-depth Character Analysis. Screenshots used are from the official Wiki.gg, In-Game, and from the Corporate Clash News Archive.
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Prior to being brought on to lead the Deforester Force, it's shown he's clearly a confident Suit, and has a genuine passion for his line of work as a consultant. With his personal statement alone this can be seen on full display with how he writes about himself, including noting how he's not swayed by bribery in any manner. (also the fact he outright pokes fun at one of the bribes will never not be funny to me)
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Not to mention his lack of discipline records throughout his 19 months having already worked for C.O.G.S. with his usual job as an external consultant, this plus the fact he has "positive remarks" from his previous places of work shows he's probably in very high demand and really does excel at his job.
This is also shown in his interview, where he also equally shows a lot of passion for his job and genuine interest with answering questions relating to it. Before we get into that though, I feel like it's important to also point out a couple other things that I think about a lot with his profile.
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This, being referred to as the "Temperamental Terminator" in the 1.3 trailer, and considering the average age of a Consultant is ~40+ years (and I personally hc him as 48), I think it's safe to say Chip just always was a quick-tempered individual throughout his life. It's one of his less favorable traits that I personally find charming.
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And these read to me like Chip's always been considered "scary" among other suits. His behavior isn't the issue (yet) though, he's just a massive guy who happens to have a chainsaw for a snout.
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Which. Makes this very interesting. Jennifer, stated something similar above, but I feel as if her intentions are more... unaware than the actual company's. Jennifer sees a guy with a big Chainsaw and thinks "Oh! He can cut down trees with that!" Jennifer ily. The company on the other hand probably has had this idea of what Chip could be a candidate for. They hired him to lead the Deforester Force. His job consists of him sitting in an office. Nothing relating to physical labor in cutting down trees, he just oversees the process. "Chainsaw apparatus will be helpful [...]" suddenly takes on a much darker meaning, in my mind.
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Which is how we get here. Chip being modified with a clearly experimental hardware which we all know as the Personality Override. The fact that it was only "partially successful" is a very fun thing to consider.
Note the fact that from a canon standpoint the Override was implemented "2 weeks ago". This will be important later.
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(The toon who got the above screenshots is not mine!)
Another fun side-note is the fact that the Override is experimental. It's experimental hardware. Chip is the only one with it. They are using him like a guinea pig. And not to mention "Dealing with Toons far more efficiently" paired with the above company-sourced "Chainsaw Apparatus will be useful [...]", you can't make this stuff up. They turned this guy into a living weapon likely without him knowing the full scope of what would happen if he did get this position in the first place.
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Okay. Now we can talk about his Interview. Which even through glancing at it you can see just how passionate he is regarding his work. He is driven and confident that his plans for the Deforester Force will work. He wants to believe that he'll set an example for the rest of the departments to execute a similar plan.
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And then this question comes up. And then I have to remind you it's probably been only a couple days since he's modified. And he already has rumors circulating about him.
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And the moment the subject is changed, he perks right back up into being passionate about his work.
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I also feel like it's worth mentioning the fact he's been actively requesting and wanting Spruce (who recommended him to begin with!!!) to join him in the Deforester Force and keeps being turned down on it. The way this and something else I'm about to touch on are written feels like he's barely been able to see him. These two have a brotherly bond and they're being separated. He misses his brother, man.
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That's not even getting into this. Even as I'm writing this I just realized the implications of something at the end of this and I'm going to have to pace around my house thinking about it. But also you can see that even though just the slightest amount of time has canonically passed since the interview, you can already see the toll the Override's been taking on Chip's behavior. While he was once passionate, he's now actively complaining about his job. It's not even about the job itself, it's about what's happened to him.
Not to mention, I feel it also displays his temper in full swing once again- even if he's justified in this sense.
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I also need to pay special mind to this ending bit right here because the implication of this with everything else surrounding it fucking broke me. uugghhhhh.
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Now this is something I feel is so, so, so important to his character. He actively does not like toons. He clearly shows a certain disgust for them and views them like Animals. Pests. He doesn't hesitate to proudly state his opinion on them. And then you see him in-game.
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He hasn't changed his mind about toons at all. Ignoring the fact that "you critters again" insinuates this isn't even his first contact with toons (will get to this later), he's... Restrained. I don't know, this reads to me like he's actively restraining himself from blowing up. "You don't want to see what happens when I get angry." is a warning to just comply and leave.
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And then because he doesn't remember he fired the rest of the Deforester Force (another thing I want to touch on), he actively gets upset and angry at the remaining flunky because of course someone as high-rank as himself wouldn't want a Flunky on such an important team. Once again, additionally showing his active temper. His active temper he just tried to restrain and bottle up.
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And that's what breaks the camel's back. The Override most likely activates from excessive anger/distress, something that Chip Actively Struggles With. He has to bottle himself up because if he tries to be his usual hot-tempered self, which is who he naturally is, he's just going to lose himself. Lose himself to cog knows how long as being a lifeless machine that perfectly and efficiently complies with the commands its given.
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He begs for help when he's able to partially regain control (emphasis on partially, considering the most he can do is speak and prevent Deadwood from happening), but like. Again, to me this reads as the fact he is currently Incredibly Fucking Terrified because he's completely aware the whole time the Override is active. He can see himself acting against his will. It's mortifying. He's willing to beg anyone for help because the Override is genuinely traumatizing for him.
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Which makes this all the more harrowing. He can't keep the Override at bay forever (likely the only reason why he partially regained control is from the sheer amount of pain he put himself in by ripping out one of his bulbs. You can see him brace himself and wince when that happens). Once again, "save yourselves" in this context feels more like he's scared. He's terrified. Because the Override sucks. And the implication of "ALL RAM CLEARED" doesn't leave much room to assume anything other than the Override likely clears out Chip's memories in order to make more processing room for this janky hardware to run at a constant overclocked state. I wonder how much of Chip's memories have been removed because of that thing, honestly.
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By the way did you know that a normal chainsaw runs an average of 12,000 RPM. Do you think about how the little RPM icon is his saw smoking as if it's overheating. What the hell is the Override doing to him internally.
Another added touch I think about a lot is how his battle as a whole is, for the most part, very predictable. You control what cheats he does. Even in technical battle terms, everything is out of Chip's control. As long as every gag hits, you're really just manipulating an enemy's AI to to make the most optimal choices to your benefit. The Override perceives "X", and responds with "Y". You're not fighting an actual individual, just a program.
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Clearly, whatever it's doing to him, it's painful (not mentioning the agonizing scream he lets out during this). And thank Cog he was able to regain control at the last second because it's way too obvious that the Override's "final fallback procedure" likely involved some kind of lethal force when it lunges at the toons. (The Chainsaw Apparatus will be helpful.)
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There's no sorrow in Chip's words, that's what I think. Everything here is bitter. It's numb, to me.
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He's clearly been through this song and dance multiple times by now. He's pissed at the toons, at the company, and at himself. But he can't properly let it out. You know what will happen if he does. The most he can do is throw a chair and scream into the air. (which that line gets its own custom voice clip, fun fact!)
It's clear he's been isolated ever since he's been upgraded, and it seems like he's bitterly accepted it. The only thing he has left to lose is Spruce, which is why he tells the toons not to tell him. If he loses Spruce...
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I don't think he'd have much left. It'd make sense why he's grown so restrained and numb and stilted in his speech. He's quickly grown to learn that he can't let himself express anymore, all because of the override.
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The fact that everyone else around him views him poorly doesn't help. His employees fear him. Most of them probably don't realize something is wrong, spread rumors about him, or outright attack him through hatemail. Written in Cipher.
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"Chip has some anger issues. I would be careful around him. Don't worry about the Cogs though, I'm sure they'll be fine. Might get demoted back to their initial tier, but that's what happens when you work with Chip. Good thing that Toons can't get fired-- or wait, they can, can't they? Do Toons LIKE getting fired? I will never understand those animals. And you seen Spruce around lately? I haven't. I wonder how his deforesting expedition is going. There is a secret message up ahead in Chip's room. Can you find it? If you are stuck, have you considered looking around your surroundings?"
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"I can't stand Chip anymore. I know I'm a Yesman, but I have to say NO. He used to be cool up until his sensors flared off. After what he did to my fellow coworker, I don't know if I can continue working under him. Sure, he's one of the most organized managers I've ever worked with, not to mention the flowing passion he has for the Deforester Force. His personality issues can single-handedly cause all of our projects to collapse. One of my former coworkers had raised concerns about Toons taking over our buildings and ultimately undoing all work that was done on our end. That poor Pencil Pusher overstepped his boundaries with Chip when he admitted his failure to secure "our" project from the Toons. Up until this point, I have never seen a Cog fire another Cog. With a cannon."
"It grinded my gears when I saw that happen. Him and I worked nonstop for days straight, while this pile of bolts just sat there doing his paperwork. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just doing crossword puzzles or writing letters to his little buddy. If you are reading this Mr. Revvington, you are the reason for our decline. We are running out of Deforester Force members because of you. As someone who has gone through close-call battles with the Toons, I hope you experience what it's like to have boulders and anvils fall from above you. You can try to fire me with that shoddy cannon of yours, but you would have to track me down first. I've already left the area and was recruited to a new organization far more stable than you will ever be."
------
...I genuinely love Mr. Revvington. He's a Suit who's been dealt the worst hand he could possibly ever get in life. He was just like anyone else, and then everything happened ever since joining C.O.G.S.. He's isolated, he's temperamental, he's pissy, he'd genuinely be someone hard to get along with because of the fact he's struggling with all sorts of issues and would be incredibly difficult and annoying to even start talking to and forming a bond with unless you're both stubborn and have patience. He's awful, and I love him for it.
I genuinely believe he's one of the most complex, beautifully written, and depressing characters in Corporate Clash. Maybe I dive way too deep into things about him, maybe he's not that deep at all. But I like to think about him. He makes me emotional, but he also makes me happy. Thank you for making him exist.
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faretheeoscar · 11 months
Text
RED WINGS
Pairing: Marc Spector x reader, (brief mentions of Steven Grant & Jake Lockley)
--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, period talk, swearing, period sex, mentions of blood, pussy eating, face riding--
Summary: you have period cramps and the boys find a way to help you to get rid of them
A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes, this is also my first published blorbo so bear with me pls.
Proofread by my girls: @mandodinstuff & @lauraispunk
Word count: 2k~
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Header by: @mandodinstuff
Period cramps, there is nothing worst that could exist in the whole world, the discomfort of them, the excruciating pain you feel each month,that you wouldn’t even wish it your worst enemy to experience it, has been incapacitating you all day.
You have been curled up in the bed wincing in pain without moving, while your sweet boyfriends have been doing everything on their power to help you with the stupid cramps, they know you always go through hell while on your period and it breaks their heart to see you crying and whimpering in pain.
———
For the past hour the boys have been searching on the internet methods to get your cramps go away, Steven whom was the last one that was trying to help you with your cramps, has been searching for information on every web page and blog he can click on, he’s really getting tired of reading and trying endless remedies that haven’t been helping you, alongside the ones that Jake has tried with you. He’s very concentrated while looking online, but he doesn’t find anything, he is about to give up and close the 100th article he has read about periods when suddenly something on the article in front of him catches his eye, he starts reading it and his face starts getting all shades of red while he does it, he finally has the information of a good way to make your cramps go away, according to the blog “empowered women” the most efficient way to help you have a slight relief of pain it’s is by giving you an orgasm…
Steven gets too nervous about it, his mind runs a thousand miles per hour on the thought of maybe hurting you even more by trying to have sex with you while you are in so much pain already, so he chickens out and gives Jake control of the body again, when Jake gets aware of the situation he starts discussing with the other two saying it’s too messy for him (even though Jake tends to be the messiest of them all) and that even though he’s not grossed by it, that blood reminds him of bad things and that he would be much more comfortable by stepping off from this one, he promises to them that he’ll help you later in a different way with the after care.
So that leaves Marc with control of the body and with the task in hand, he doesn’t know how to approach things, he’s usually not that sensitive like Steven with words or direct with them like Jake is, his mind keeps on running a thousand miles per hour while he tries to think about how he would approach the topic, he truly wants to help you, he decides to go to your shared bedroom and knock softly on the door.
———
“Hey baby, just came to see how you’re doin’, How you are feeling?”
He sees your curled up figure, you are hissing in pain and tears are falling from your eyes, you don’t even answer him, you just keep on crying.
Marc approaches you and sits down on the edge of the bed keeping some awkward distance between the two of you, as he still doesn’t know how to approach the topic.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Marc asks caressing your hair softly trying to ease you up and his nerves.
“There’s nothing, Steven and Jake have already tried everything, meds, massages, teas… you name it, but nothing helps, these stupid cramps won’t go away” You hiss in pain again and clutch your stomach. “I hate this, I hate it so much, wish there was a magical cure or something.”
Marc stares at you and fiddles with his fingers, he feels his mouth dry, and it’s like his mouth just decides to just say the thing that has been going inside his head.
“Orgasm” He blurts out, his cheeks redden and looks away from you.
You look up at him with a confused expression “What?”
“Orgasm” Marc clears his throat that feels like the fucking Sahara Desert at this point and directs his gaze back at you “Steven read that… if you…if a woman experiences an orgasm the pain goes away, I mean for a short period of time, it’s not a magical cure but…yeah it helps to ease the pain.”
You have to blink twice to progress what he is saying “I- I don’t know Marc, I’m on my period that’s just too messy, besides, I get very sensitive around there, I don’t think I could even, uh— take you guys fully inside, I’ll be too—-overstimulated” You blush at the thought of it and Marc chuckles nervously.
“Well, you know, there are other ways I can help you with that without you know… actual penetration” Marc just keeps on rambling still feeling nervous about the subject.
Your cheeks get even redder at Marc’s proposition.
“You’re not actually suggesting that-”
“Only if you want me to help you, I mean you know I’ll do anything to help you my love” Marc interrupts you but smiles at you, the blush keeps on creeping up from his neck to his cheeks.
“Well, I don’t know Marc I….” You want to say no, you really want to, but a sharp pain of another cramp comes your way, the feeling of a thousand needles piercing your uterus, makes you hiss and clutch to your stomach again, you just want to try to get rid of the pain, you’ll do anything at this point, so you suck up your pride and accept. “Okay, let’s do this.”
———————————
Marc spread out a towel on the bed below you by your request just to prevent staining the bed sheets, he thinks it’s silly cause he knows the mess is only probably getting only getting on his face and maybe his fingers, but he’s willing to comply to your requests.
He notices you are kind of nervous and hesitant about it, but he wants to ease you, so he starts kissing you and touching you in a soothing but still sexy kind of way, he’s trying to get rid also of his own nerves of doing this, trying to not think much about it, he starts trailing kisses down your body, he sneaks his hand below your oversized t-shirt and starts massaging your breasts, he knows you get sensitive there too, he knows you get a lot of pain and swallow on your breasts so he of course wants to help you get rid away of that pain too.
Your moans and whimpers when you feel the sudden relief of pain from your breasts being masterfully massaged by Marc start to melt his nervous and worries away, he is doing this for you right? He doesn’t need to get nervous about it, if it means taking care of you, he’ll do anything for you, besides its just… fluids, he has tasted blood before, of course it was his own… but it still counts right?
He slowly starts making his way down your body until he reaches the hem of your night shorts and pulls them down, along with your period panties, his breath hitches and he stares at your core for a moment, getting himself ready and trying to process what he is about to do.
You notice a certain hesitation on his gaze as you crook your neck up to see him between your thighs.
“You don’t have to really do this Marc I’ll be fine… I’ll just take another pill and—”
You were about to start a nonsense rambling when it gets interrupted when Marc without a warning starts to eat your pussy.
“S-s-shit” You shiver feeling the immediate overwhelming sensation of his mouth on you.
He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, and starts eating you up slowly, he is taking his time, making sure you feel good, making sure he takes care of you properly, he starts with small circles and soft licks that have you squirming and dropping your head back on the pillows, when he notices your eagerness he hesitates but he decides to slip one finger into your cunt, just one only for good measure, cause he knows that you love to clench around something, he doesn’t want you to get to overwhelmed by it, cause he knows how sensitive you get when you are on your period, but he just knows that you can take one of his fingers slowly moving deep inside you, it’ll help him get you to your release faster.
You squirm and moan feeling the pleasure of it all, you take Marc’s hair on your hands and pull it softly earning a groan from him, you are starting to feel good, but there’s still something in the back of your head that doesn’t let you enjoy it fully, you look down at Marc and he feels your gaze on him, so that makes him looking up at you while he keeps on working deliciously on you, you moan but when you really look at him a really small smear of blood covering up his nose catches your glimpse, it totally distracts you, you lose concentration, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about it, even though your wonderful boyfriend it’s willing to take this extends to help you, you start to feel a bit uncomfortable looking at him like that.
“Marc, stop. I can’t I just….”You sigh letting go of his head and resting your own back on the pillows defeated “It’s too messy, and I don’t know, I’m sorry but it’s not getting me anywhere.”
Marc stops what he is doing, he looks up at you, with a frown in his face, he quickly wipes his mouth with the towel that’s on the bed before moving his body up to face you again he cradles the side of your head, he knows you more than he knows himself and he is sure that you are probably getting nervous about it and the redness of your cheeks also tells him that, he chuckles and speaks softly to you.
“Baby, you don’t have to don’t feel self conscious about it, I really want to help you, I promise to you, it’s not that bad, in fact was actually… kind of enjoying it.”
You get shivers down your spine and now your mouth is the one that is fucking dry.
“You… you were?”
Marc chuckles and leads your small hand to touch his crotch, you immediately feel the big bulge on his pants, you let an involuntary moan when you feel the outline of his hard cock, the thought of him getting aroused by you even in that state, makes your head dizzy and filled with desire, you have to press your thighs against each other to not start squirming again.
Marc notices your reaction to him and chuckles, he gives you a kiss on your forehead.
“Will it help if you don’t see me?” Marc gives you a smirk and bites his lip mischievously.
“What do you mean?” You act like you don’t know what he means, but you are so embarrassed about it that you just don’t want to say it.
“Just sit on my face baby, just enjoy it, don’t have to look at the mess, don’t have to get self-conscious about it” He starts to trail down wet kisses along your neck. “Besides, you know how much I like you like to sit on me, the thought of your thighs squeezing my face makes me more excited, please, baby, want you to suffocate me with those thighs, want that pussy all over my face.” He lets out a low growl next to your ear that sends shivers down your spine.
You let out a pathetic moan and before you know it or even have the time to think about it, Marc grabs your body and lifts it up as if you weighed nothing, he pulls you up on top of him, and he positions himself better in bed so his face would be right between your thighs. He licks his lips in anticipation.
You look down at him, you are still hesitant so you lower yourself slowly over his face, your breath feeling even heavier with each passing second, but he can’t have non of it, his protective side tbh at wants to help you along with his lust has filled his senses, so he wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls you down rough into him, a feral groan vibrates through his body as his tongue finds your clit again and starts eating you out. You grab the made up headboard the guys have made out of books to try to balance yourself, while you start to rock your hips shyly against him, feeling the pleasure bulging up inside you again.
He starts licking you up again, this time a bit more feverish about it, he flats his tongue again over your clit and then starts to lick your folds up and down, this time he slips two thick fingers into your cunt, smiling and growling low as he hears you gasp for air. He curls his fingers upwards finding easily that sweet spongy spot that makes you whine and shake.
“Always making pretty noises for me” he murmurs. “That’s it let me help you sweetheart,”
You look down for a moment and see how lost he is while eating you out, he is so concentrated, his curls are a mess now, his brows are furrowed but you can see the satisfaction he has on doing this, it melts all your worries about doing this in a second, his eyes are closed he is ravishing on you, he feels that your movements are stuttering while you look at him, so he opens his eyes for a second to look at you.
And God… he looks perfect.
The look he gives you could almost make you confuse him with Steven, it’s the same lost look he gives you when he has you on the same position above him, you love how Steven always gets pussy drunk while you are riding his face, but to see the same look on Marc? the sight of him being in that state, it almost sends you over the edge.
Marc’s digs his digits further into your skin, wanting to press you even harder against his face, his hard grip on your hips is for sure are gonna leaving marks, but you don’t care. He keeps on letting out low growls and moans ,while his tongue is deep inside you, tasting you and enjoying himself, his pronounced nose catches your clit as you grind on his face, making your moans and legs shiver as the pleasure keeps on building inside you, you swear you are about to break when you let out the biggest and most pathetic moan you think you’ve ever let out.
“That’s my girl,” his low voice resonates deep inside you. “Use me beautiful,let me help you get the pain away.”
His words make you feel more aroused, you buckle your hips and start grinding harder against his face, your movements are sloppy, but he helps you a little by guiding you with the tight grip he has on your hips.
His mouth starts sucking hard your clit as he takes his two fingers again starts fucking you faster with them, the particular tension of your imminent release builds up more and more.
A low growl that sends vibrations to your core accompanied with his masterful fingers send you over the edge, panting hard while your vision turns white for a second, you keep on sloppy grinding on his face, while you feel the pain of your cramps melting away as your orgasm flushes over you, your legs shiver and you almost give in and crush him. Marc it’s quick to catch you with the help of the tight grip he has on your hips, he smiles in satisfaction and guides you down from him, and help you to lean on your side on the bed. Marc sits up quickly and goes to the bathroom to wipes the mess around his mouth before entering the room again with a warm towel to clean up the mess between your thighs and helping you put your underwear back along with your sleeping shorts.
When he is satisfied with his job he leans on the bed behind you and holds you into a tight embrace, he starts rubbing soothing circles over your tummy.
After a couple of moments of silence, you feel Marc’s smile on your neck while he nuzzles his head there.
“Better?” He asks you while leaving a soft kiss on your neck.
“Much Better”
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