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nicksbestie · 2 days

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Migraines - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,

Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying

Word Count : 1313

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3

Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.

Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life.

All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.

Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.

He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.

You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could.

You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.

You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.

By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.

The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him.

As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.

“I love you more.”

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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

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Fight

Summary: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Violence (the Peña girls get in a fight at school), bullying, the Peña girls being little badasses, Javi being a proud dad, idk everything I post for this series is gonna be sickeningly sweet, I'm not sure what to tell you 😩

A/N: I literally had this idea on the drive into work this morning, got a terrible migraine, went home, woke up and wrote this in like an hour 🤪 This was inspired by @bbiophiliaa asking me about the girl's personalities, and I think this sums it up pretty darn well! GOD I LOVE THIS FAMILY YALL GOTTA SEDATE ME

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

The phone number for Alma Pierce Elementary was one you recognize like the back of your hand. If it weren’t for all the years you’d worked there as a teacher, the fact that two of your three daughters now attended there as 1st and 3rd graders meant that you had the school’s phone number memorized almost as well as your own. That’s why when you got a phone call from Alma Pierce in the middle of the day, while waiting in the lobby of your pediatrician’s office for an appointment with your youngest (and her never ending cold that she couldn’t seem to shake), you were surprised to see the number that you knew all too well pop up on your caller ID.

Being a former teacher, your girls knew better than to try and play sick and call home to get out of school, and noting their usual chipper and enthusiastic demeanor this morning when you dropped them off, you found it hard to believe that a mystery illness had plagued them enough in the past few hours to warrant a call home. You ran through your mental checklist in your head of your morning routine, almost positive that Lucy and Elliot had both their lunches, gym shoes, and no after school activities that they would have forgotten anything for. Your phone continued to ring, a now slightly unsettling feeling building in your stomach as you began to wonder the reason for the midday call.

“Hello?” you answered, bouncing a sleepy, snotty Harper in your lap as you sat waiting in the uncomfortable fake leather of the doctor’s office chair.

“Hi Mrs. Peña, it’s Principal Coleman.”

Oh god.

While Lucy and Elliot were your daughters in every sense that they were just as feisty and stubborn as you, they were sweet girls, and knew better than to do anything to break the rules or be disrespectful at school.

Or, so you thought.

Your heart began to sink to the pit of your stomach, knowing that a call from the Principal at 1:30 in the afternoon most likely didn’t mean good news, letting out a quiet deep breath before responding.

“Hi Principal Coleman, how are you?”

“Well Mrs. Peña, I’m going to start off by saying I’m just as shocked as you probably are about the reason behind this phone call.”

Oh sweet Jesus, what did these two do?

You paused for a moment before Principal Coleman spoke again, without even giving you a chance to ask what had happened. “Today at recess, Lucy and Elliot beat up a boy in Elliot’s class pretty badly.”

Was this a joke? There’s no way that she could be serious, right? You girls fought at home, but to gang up on another boy? At school? Heat began to flood through your cheeks in embarrassment and anger at your daughters as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak. “Principal Coleman, I- I’m so sorry. I’m- I don’t even know what to say. Do you know what happened?”

“No, not yet, the girls are in my office right now, but I was hoping that you’d be able to come join us to have a conversation about it, considering what a serious thing this has become. Especially since your girls aren’t ones I see in my office often.”

You stared down at Harper, wiping the back of her little arm against her boogery nose as she groaned and leaned against her chest. It had taken you a week to make an appointment for her, and for her sanity, or yours, you didn’t want to have to wait another week longer, but there was no way you weren’t finding out what the was reason why your girls had attacked someone out on the playground. You looked around frantically, trying to brainstorm a solution until you remembered the other half responsible for creating your fist fighting monsters.

“Yes, absolutely Principal Coleman. I’m at the doctor with my other daughter right now, but I’ll see if my husband can come down to the school to talk with the girls.”

“Perfect, thank you so much, Mrs. Peña.”

You had barely hung up before you were punching the keys of your cell phone, dialing up Javi and anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Hermosa!” You could almost hear Javi’s smile through the phone, his voice sweet and unassuming, considering it wasn’t uncommon for you to call him during the day, and especially not about things like this. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Um, I just got a call from the Principal saying that Lucy and Elliot beat up a kid during recess.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait, Osita, you can’t be serious?” Javi responded, almost more in shock than you were at the news.

“I’m being serious, Jav. She wants one of us down there to go talk with him, but I’ve got Harper at the doctor’s right now and I don’t want to have to reschedule if I don’t have to. Is there any way you can go?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers on the sides of your temples from the impending headache your girls were causing you.

“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah- of course, I’ll head over right now. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. Jesus Jav, I’m so embarrassed, I know the girls fight at home, but to beat up someone at school? What did we do wrong that would make them think that’s okay?” You could feel the nervous, frustrated tears beginning to well in your eyes, guilt and shame creeping through every inch of your body, currently feeling like the worst parent to have ever existed in that moment.

“Shhhh, hey, Osita, it’s alright. I’m sure there has to be a reason. I’m gonna head out right now and figure it out, okay? I love you. Give Harps a big kiss for me, yeah?”

“Okay. I love you too. Thanks, Jav.”

With a gentle click of the receiver, the other side of the line went silent, leaving you and Harper in the bright, sterile lights of the waiting room. The ceiling lights may as well been spotlights beaming down in your direction, now sensing several pairs of eyes on you after your phone call. You’d never been so thankful for your 4 year old’s sleepy, sick state, because if she was any more awake, she would be happily babbling about your phone call to everyone in the lobby, letting them know her big sisters got in a fight at school.

“Harper Peña?” A voice called from across the lobby.

Well, at least one of your 3 daughters you could help take care of.

Javi was pretty sure the last time drove this fast anywhere was after your water broke with Elliot, making it to the hospital in record breaking time. Whipping into the first empty parking spot he found, Javi practically sprinted through the parking lot to the front of the building, his heart pounding as he stepped into the main office, greeted by the familiar faces of your old co-workers, with unfamiliar grimaces on their faces.

“Principal Coleman’s back this way.” Señora Gonzalez mumbled, almost avoiding eye contact with Javi as she pointed to the open door behind her desk. As if the phone call from his wife earlier didn’t have him worried enough, the dismayed look on everyone’s faces sure didn’t help.

“Hi Mr. Peña. Please, take a seat.” Principal Coleman smiled politely after outstretching her hand for Javi to shake before gesturing towards the empty seat between Lucy and Elliot. If there was one thing Javi was not shocked about, it was the way both of his daughters seemed to be handling the current situation. Lucy, being the empathetic older sister she was, was in tears, trying her best to keep from bawling as she looked up at her dad, her face riddled with guilt. Elliot on the other hand, was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest, seeming almost completely unbothered by her current situation, giving Javi a little shrug, as if to say I’m not sure why we’re here either.

“Principal Coleman, I just want to start off by saying I’m so sorry. I was shocked when my wife called me and said the girls had been in a fight.”

“He was asking for it…” Elliot mumbled under her breath, arms still crossed, slouching even lower.

“Elliot Marie.” Javi snapped, giving his daughter a dangerous glare, knowing her stubborn attitude he was all too familiar with.

“Well why don’t you go ahead then Elliot. Can you explain to us what happened?” Principal Coleman asked, nodding at Elliot. Elliot let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the armrests of her seat.

“Principal Coleman, do you know Hunter in my class?” Elliot asked, prepping the room as if she was getting ready to argue her case in court. Principal Coleman slightly cocked her head, intrigued by Elliot’s question.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay. Well at the beginning of the year, Mrs. Walker told us that Hunter’s brain is kind of different than ours. He says the same things over and over and makes silly noises and moves his body around even when he’s supposed to be sitting still. She said it’s because he has Autumn-tism. I don’t know why it’s called that because he doesn’t really like the fall, but he does really like outer space.”

“He has Autism, Elliot, not Autumn-tism.” Lucy groaned, rolling her eyes at her sister.

“Whatever.” Elliot sighed, rolling her eyes right back. “Anyways, no one ever wanted to play with Hunter because he was different from other kids, and everyone called him weird, and I felt really sad because everyone should have friends to play with at school. So one day I decided to ask him if he wanted to play and now we’re best friends and play rocket ships every day at recess.” Elliot adjusted again, scooching up taller in her chair, looking back and forth between her dad and Principal Coleman. “And even though Mrs. Walker always says be kind to everyone, Max in my class is not very kind, especially to Hunter. He always makes fun of him and calls him mean names, and I always tell him to stop because it hurts Hunter’s feelings.”

“Well I’m very glad that you are standing up for your friend Elliot, but how did this end up with you and Lucy both beating up Max?”

“I’m getting there Principal Coleman, I promise.” Elliot nodded, already halfway out the door to law school at this point. “Today at recess, Hunter and I were on the swings playing rockets, minding our own business, when all of a sudden Max came up out of nowhere and pushed Hunter so hard off the swings he landed in the wood chips and started crying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that Hunter deserved it because he was a freak and freaks shouldn’t get to have friends.”

“It’s true, that’s what he said…” Lucy quietly chimed in, barely lifting her eyes off their fixed spot on the floor. “I was out at recess too and I saw Max push Hunter so I went over to help.”

“So I helped Hunter up and then I told Max that he can’t talk to him like that, and if he keeps making fun of him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.”

“She did also say that…” Lucy grimaced, looking over at her sister.

“Well. He called him a stupid loser who should go fly to outer space so no one ever has to see him again. So I kicked him in the nuts. I warned him.” Elliot responded, holding up her hands in defense.

“I may have kicked him too…”

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. And I'm sorry Principal Coleman. I know we’re not supposed to fight and use our words but I couldn’t let him make fun of Hunter anymore. It’s not fair.”

“I’m really sorry, too. I should have told her to stop. She is right, Max is always so mean to him for no reason besides the fact he’s different and he can’t help it.”

The girls both looked up at their dad with remorse, their sweet little faces filled with a mix of guilt and pride, knowing they were in the wrong for what they had done, but also knowing they had done what was right for Elliot’s friend, even if it meant finding themselves in the Principal’s Office.

After hearing his daughter’s story, his face mirrored theirs. While he also didn’t think he’d find himself in the Principal’s Office this afternoon, he also couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that his daughters cared so deeply about this boy, and had gone out of their way to stand up for him with no hesitation. There had been so many times since the girls had been born that Javi wondered if he had ever done right by his daughters. But seeing them here today, knowing all they wanted to do was stand up for the person who needed it most had him feeling like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right.

Even Principal Coleman’s face began to soften, realizing the circumstances of the situation, recognizing the Peña girls wanted nothing more than to protect their friend, even if they perhaps hadn’t gone about it the right way.

“Well girls. I think that we can all agree that moving forward, violence is never the right way to solve our problems, correct?” Lucy and Elliot softly bobbed their heads, looking down at the ground. “That being said, I do think that it is very brave of you that you stood up for Hunter. He is very lucky to have such thoughtful friends.” Principal Coleman smiled, Lucy and Elliot’s heads now perking back up in shock. “I do think that you still do need to apologize to Max for what you did, so tomorrow, the three of us are going to meet, sound fair?”

The girls shook their heads in agreement, still bracing themselves for the rest of their punishment. “Mr. Peña, while I do not condone fighting in the slightest, I do think there is something to be said for the fact your girls have such big hearts.”

“Thank you.” Javi beamed, peering down at his two girls, resting a hand on each of their knees and giving them a little shake. “Again, I am really sorry, I promise we’ll talk about using our words instead of fighting if something like this ever happens again.”

“Of course. Alright girls, you two can both head back to class and-”

“Actually, if it’s okay, I’m gonna sign them out and take them home.” Javi interjected, the girls now staring at their dad in confusion. Principal Coleman nodded, her and Javi shaking hands once again before the 3 Peñas made their way out of the office.

“Daddy, why are we going home?” Elliot asked, puzzled by her dad’s proposition.

“Just go get your stuff, okay?” Javi smiled, nudging the two girls towards the door as they speeded off to their classrooms, quickly returning with their backpacks.

The 3 loaded into Javi’s truck, Lucy and Elliot exchanging silent, confused looks in the backseat before Elliot worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy… Are you mad at us?”

Javi turned back around to face the girls, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You guys know you shouldn’t be fighting at school, right?”

“Right.” The little voices said in unison.

“Good. I’m not mad, girls. I’m really proud of you. You did the right thing standing up for that kid. There may be times in life where there isn’t always an easy answer to things, but you girls did what you knew was right, and that’s what mattered most. Sounds like Max is a really big jerk anyways.”

“You can say that again…” Elliot snorted, the 3 of them laughing along at her comment. With that, Javi turned over the ignition in his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of home.

“Dad, we don’t go home this way?” Lucy pointed out, in her lovingly know-it-all voice.

“I know. That’s because we’re going to get ice cream.” Javi grinned, the girls now cheering in excitement, dancing in their seats.

“Just don’t tell mom.”

Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since the minute you had gotten the phone call from school a few hours ago, now only beating faster as you saw Javi’s truck parked in the driveway at 3:30, before he or the girls would have been finished with work or school. You scooped Harper out of her carseat, rushing inside to see what in the world was going on, only to be greeted by the sounds of giggles and laughter from Javi, Lucy and Elliot along with Mario Kart Double Dash dinging and clanging in the background.

“No Dad, you have to throw the banana!”

“What do you mean, throw it? I still have shells I have to get rid of, right? This game makes no sense and I’m in last place.”

“Maybe if you threw the banana, you wouldn’t be in last place!”

“Uhhhh… What’s going on?” You asked, wondering how in the world you had gone from a very serious phone call with your husband a few hours ago to him and the girls playing GameCube on the couch like it was any other day.

“Hi Mom!” The girls shouted in unison, throwing down their controllers and running over towards you, wrapping their arms around your waist in a tight hug.

“Hi?” You asked wearily, starting to wonder if this phone call had been a fever dream given everyone’s happy demeanor. “Are we not gonna talk about the phone call I got from Principal Coleman earlier today?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, now making his way towards you, standing on the other side of the girls to sandwich them in between you and him in a hug, leaning over them to press a kiss onto your lips. “Taking them out of school early to play Mario Kart doesn’t look a lot like a punishment, Jav.” You grumbled into his ear, his face still pressed against yours.

“Girls, why don’t you go play so Mom and I can talk about what happened, okay?” The girls happily agreed, taking Harper back over to the couch and resuming their game while you leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded over your chest in disappointment at Javi, waiting for an explanation.

“You’ve heard Elliot talk about Hunter in her class before?” You could already feel your guard starting to come down, knowing you had a feeling exactly where this conversation was headed after hearing who was involved. “Apparently, a kid in Elliot’s class was picking on him for being Autistic and pushed him off the swings, so her and Lucy kicked him in the crotch.” You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, relief slowly turning into laughter as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a deep exhale before looking back at Javi. “I talked to them and they feel bad about it and know it’s wrong and they’re gonna apologize to the kid, but I couldn’t be that mad at them, right? They stood up for the kid even if they knew it was gonna get them in trouble. I’m honestly proud of them.”

You took a step towards Javi, pulling him in for a hug, resting your head against his shoulder as you spoke into his chest. “God, what are we gonna do with these girls?” The two of you chuckled, Javi snaking his hand down to cradle your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

“Ask for a raise so we can send Elliot off to law school, apparently. Made a hell of a case in Coleman’s office. Just as head strong as her Momma.” Javi leaned down, letting his nose brush against yours as he tenderly placed his lips on yours, letting them linger for a moment while your smiles crept between them.

“And their Daddy’s sense of right and wrong. Guess we must be doing something right if they care that much.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, his sweet brown eyes beaming down back at you, wondering how in the world you had ended up with 3 of the sassiest, sweetest combinations of the two of you in your daughters. “Okay, well, this was not how I was planning the rest of the day to go, but I guess it’s a happy surprise to have all of us home, so I’ll take it. I love you, Jav.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

You wrapped your arms around Javi’s waist, squeezing him in a long, tight hug as pressed his arms against your back, pulling you in closer as he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey Munchkins, you want a snack and then we can pick something to play outside together?”

“Okay!” The girls shouted from the family room over the background noise of their game until Elliot piped up again.

“Honestly, I’m okay on snacks, I’m still really full from the ice cream.”

You spun back around to look up at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck, darting his eyes away from yours as you rested your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “Ice cream? Really?”

“Hey, kickin’ ass is hard work.”

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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Days Like This

Summary: When your day goes from bad to terrible to worse, Bradley is there to help pick you back up.

Warnings: a lot of feels and a soft ending. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

The traffic on the highway getting home from where you worked was particularly disgusting for 2pm on a Tuesday.

The tint on the darkest pair of the many sunglasses you kept in your car wasn’t doing anything to help with the migraine that has started out at work as a whisper but had steadily built to a full roar. The California sun glaring down on you through your window wasn’t doing anything to help the pressure behind your eyes or the pain radiating throughout your head.

You wanted to be home.

The day started out nicely, perfectly even. Bradley’s lecture for the day had been pushed back, so he was still there in bed with you when you had woken up. And the two of you got to enjoy your coffee and breakfast together al fresco under the foliage of the tree that was built into your outdoor deck, soaking up each other and the morning sun before it got too hot.

All of Bradley’s bronze skin was on display in the sunlight as he had only been wearing a pair of sweatpants, his soft UVA t-shirt missing since it was on you instead. The neighbors were probably getting an eyeful, but the chances were high that they’ve already seen you both in much less.

His eyes had lit up and he had let out a low whistle when you came back down the stairs in the outfit you had worn for going into the office. It was just a formfitting navy pencil skirt and striped cotton button down, but that didn’t stop him from crowding you up against the white marble counter. His hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

“Bradley,” you sighed leaning back, letting his broad, warm body support you, “I can’t show up to work all wrinkled.”

You could feel the outline of him through his heathered gray sweatpants, and it worked for you.

Everything about him worked for you.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” he murmured in your ear. His hands sliding around to the exposed zipper in the back, fingers playing with the pull tab there, “Let’s take it off then.”

And you were tempted. So, so tempted as he teased his mustache along your neck.

“I’m going to be late,” you said, spinning to wrap your arms around his neck. The taste of coffee on his tongue was better than anything out of a mug.

“C’mon, kid,” he coaxed against your mouth, his voice pure seduction, “Let me give you a proper send off.”

His hands had found the top button of your blue and white striped shirt, slipping it out of its buttonhole to expose a couple more inches of your skin to his eyes.

You didn’t have any meetings until later in the morning, and his mouth was your favorite kind of distraction. Especially the way he was lazily working his way along your jawline.

“You always smell so good,” he hummed into your skin. Those sly and precise hands undid another button before sliding one under your shirt. His finger tracing along the line of the scalloped line of your bra.

And then you remembered just what exactly you were wearing under that button down and pencil skirt that was driving him so crazy. If Bradley were to discover what you had on, you would have definitely been late for work.

That was a surprise for him to find later.

He tugged on the collar of your button down to get another glimpse of you and at what secrets resided beneath your top.

“Bradley!” you laughed swatting at his hands you tried to pull away. Working quickly to rebutton the ones he had managed to get undone while you had been preoccupied with his mouth.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he winked at you, still running his hands along your body.

“No, of course not,” you tease, rolling your eyes in amusement, “However, I do reserve the right to blame you if I am late for work.”

“You could always just tell them you were late because you were doing your patriotic duty. Don’t they give you paid volunteer hours at that place?” he asked with a wicked smirk before letting you go with one final squeeze to your hips.

“I don’t think me volunteering for another round of patriotic sex on the kitchen island is what they meant when they gave us those paid community hours. Even if it is technically in service and support for the property of the US Navy.”

You leaned in for one more quick kiss, coping a quick feel of his ass as you darted out of his reach and towards the entryway before he could pull you back in again, “Please send my thanks to Uncle Sam.”

He chuckled, as he leaned against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles with his mug of coffee back in his hands, “Have a good day, kid.”

You gathered your things and were almost out the door when Bradley called out to you.

“Hey! You forgot something.”

You paused to check your bag, confused about what could have possibly been missing. Once your laptop, phone, wallet, and keys had all been accounted for you turned back towards him to see what had been overlooked in your haste to get out the door.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Oh, he was so gone for you.

You didn’t think you would ever get over how handsome Bradley was, especially when he was smiling at you with such warmth and affection.

“I love you too,” you grinned back at him, before sauntering out the door with a cheeky salute, “See you later, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then you hit every goddamn red light possible on your way into work.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

Things had gone from bad to worse in the few minutes it had taken you to walk through the main door of your building towards your office.

There hadn’t even been time to make a stop at the fancy espresso machine that was in the break room before your work nemesis, Grace, was charging at you in the hallway to rant about the derailed timelines for a project that you were both assigned to for one of the biggest clients on your company’s account roster.

It was clear as you looked over the spreadsheets she had printed out, still holding your heavy work tote on your shoulder, that there wouldn’t be any way to salvage the mess and that the deliverables wouldn't be ready in time for the client’s target deadline.

When she left in an angry huff marching towards the direction of your boss’ office, your stomach was aching from the twisted knots that had formed in your lower abdomen. The idea of the coffee you had been looking forward to was now the last thing on your mind, not that the caffeine would be good for your elevated levels of anxiety.

Both you and Grace were in the running for the same promotion, and you knew without a doubt that she was going to try and pin all the poor planning on you.

As if she wasn’t the one who’d essentially elbowed you out of the way for this portion of the project claiming that she had been further along in the planning process and that “it would be redundant and a waste time and resources for us to both work on this.”

She had dodged your attempts to collaborate, stonewalling you at every possible turn. You had been excluded from important meetings multiple times and had been asked to do duplicate work even though your own plate was already overloaded from all the slack you were picking up. You had found so many errors in what little information she had sent your way, that you were having to redo most everything as it came to you.

While you had been debating going to your boss to inform her of the ongoing issues, you had held off because even though you kept things professional at the office, it wasn’t a secret that the two of you weren’t exactly the best of friends. And you had been worried she might have brushed it off as interpersonal issues rather than Grace’s clear attempts to sabotage you.

So, you couldn’t say you were surprised when you were called into an emergency meeting with both your boss, Joanna, and the bane of your existence less than forty minutes later. And even less surprised when Grace pointed the finger at you in that condescending manner of hers that had gotten under your skin from the very first day you met her.

However, you had come prepared. You listened tolerantly as she listed off all the things that you’d allegedly done wrong before speaking up.

“To my understanding, all the things you just listed fell under the portion of the project that you claimed responsibility for,” you stated, trying to keep your voice from sounding tight and clipped.

What she didn’t realize as she tried to place the blame on you was that your receipts had receipts. And you proceeded to hand over the file folder of all the email correspondence you had saved and collected during the project to your manager.

“And am I allowed to know just what exactly that is?” Grace demanded.

“Of course, it’s simply our emails. So the content of that file won’t come as a surprise to you,” you replied as neutrally as possible.

You had highlighted all the important requests that were denied or ignored completely, the obvious errors, and the work that she had claimed credit for that was actually yours.

And the smoking gun, was a message you had received a notification about on Slack that was clearly posted to the wrong channel where Grace was all but admitting that she was purposefully giving you wrong information to work with. And while she had been quick to delete it, you had been quicker to get a screenshot of it.

You had conveniently placed that bit on the top of the pile to be the first thing your boss would see.

“I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner about this,” you said sincerely to your boss, “I had no clue things had spiraled out of control this bad until this morning. And after you review that file, I am sure you’ll see why.”

You tried to keep your fidgeting under control seated in the boucle chair as she skimmed over the first couple of pages, glancing between you and your work nemesis. The tension palpable and oppressive in the room.

Normally you loved being in Joanna’s office, it was tastefully chic with a white lacquer desk and a large Fiddle Fig tree in the corner. And your boss was always the type to indulge in a little pop culture talk, the two of you had had many a coffee break in there together, but at that moment you couldn’t wait to get back to your own office and away from Grace.

“The two of you are dismissed for now while I review this. In the meantime, I expect you both to work on finding what solutions we have at our disposal to get this back on track.”

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

The migraine came on steadily after that meeting. From the stress or the lack of sufficent caffeine you couldn’t say.

Your heart had been racing since you had left Joanna's office, and not in the fun way that Bradley was usually responsible for.

God, what had you been thinking to turn down more morning sex with Bradley Bradshaw? Even if it would have ruined the surprise you had planned, at least the additional post-orgasm endorphin high might have helped you get through the day better.

Maybe you definitely should have let him have his way that morning.

You were feeling on the brink of an anxiety attack an hour later when your boss called you back for a follow-up meeting.

Popping a couple CBD tablets and wiping your damp shaky hands on your sleek navy skirt, you saved the minimal amount of work you’d been able to get done while you had been spiraling before getting up to stop by the restroom before your one-on-one.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you disrobed enough to work the pretty yet impractical one piece you were wearing down your body when you realized the stress alone wasn’t the only reason for why your stomach had been hurting all morning.

For a moment you felt nothing. And then you felt everything.

No. No. No.

The tears prickled behind your eyes, and you had to bite your lip hard to keep from crying. Your day had already gone from bad to terrible to worse, and now this.

You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry.

No.

You wouldn’t let yourself cry.

You wouldn’t cry and Bradley wouldn’t get to see the surprise you had planned for him because the gusset of that more-expensive-than-it-should-have-been delicate and lovely sheer white French lace bodysuit you had secretly bought and slipped on this morning was stained a bright crimson red.

Steeling yourself against the swell of emotions that was threatening to drag you down, you perfunctorily folded up a wad of toilet paper and placed it in the center of the lining as you shimmed the formerly-stunning-but-now-ruined lingerie back up.

Just another thing that had gone wrong today. Just another problem to be dealt with later. Just one more thing that made you wish you’d never got out of bed this morning.

Tucking your shirt back in, you pushed everything out of your mind. You would not be the woman showing up to your boss’ office with streaky make up and puffy eyes.

After washing your hands and giving yourself a critical once over in the gold rimmed mirror and straightening your skirt just so, you had made your way to your over to Joanna’s corner office.

She didn’t keep you on tenterhooks for very long, letting you know that she had passed along the folder of information you had given her to HR and that Grace had been sent home for the day. While the clients were unhappy with the delays, she had managed to convince them of the merits of pushing back the project by a few weeks, giving your team the opportunity to clean up the mess.

For the time being, she would be taking over the project account until the internal investigation was completed by HR, but she anticipated being able to turn the reins back over to you alone very shortly. And then in the strictest confidentiality within the sanctity of her cozy yet aesthetic office, she had all but confirmed that the promotion you had been working so hard for was always going to be yours.

While she reassured you that she was on your side, you still couldn’t help feeling like you’d let her down. And then with a nod and an edict to not worry about anything, she also sent you home for the day too.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

You wanted to be on Bradley’s side of the bed.

The drive home felt like the longest fifty minutes of your life.

The traffic was always terrible, but today it was worse. You would never understand why Californians couldn’t figure out how to merge on the highway. It was supposed to be a zipper, not a game of chicken to see how close you could get to someone without actually hitting them.

And then seeing the man who was too old to be selling flowers on the cement divider in the middle of the road at one of the red lights you had been stuck at only added another bruise to your already battered heart.

Not even when you finally pulled up to the house you loved so much had helped to ease the pain of the day. You weren’t hit with the same rush of delight as you usually were when you arrived back to the home you shared with Bradley.

You didn’t know it was possible for such a fairytale home to exist in San Diego, but it did and it was yours.

The charming 1930’s white Tudor had a set of four diamond paneled windows in the front that were warm and welcoming. The large cement pavers up the slope of the lawn lead you to a black door that had an abundance of vintage character.

The house was situated picturesquely under a large Tipuana tree. Bradley was always complaining about the little yellow flowers when they littered the lawn, but you loved the cheerful floral confetti. Which is probably why he left them there for you waiting until they were withered and brown before blowing them into the street.

It had absolutely stolen your breath away the first time you saw it.

The two of you had been driving around in the Bronco one afternoon with Van Morrison playing on the radio just enjoying the afternoon sun after a week of rain. You had gasped when he drove by the house as the agent was attempting to put up the For Sale sign.

Other than the time at the seaside restaurant when you and Bradley had decided to go all in on each other, you had never been so struck with a feeling of such resolute surety. It was meant to be your house.

Your home with Bradley.

He must have felt it too because he’d barely gotten the Bronco in Park before he had leapt out of the car jogging up to the agent, the car still running and the keys in the ignition.

You’ll never know what he said to the woman as he helped her to get the post for the sign situated in the corner of the lot since you had been trying to actually turn the car off before getting unbuckled and out of the car yourself.

Maybe it had been his words. Maybe it had been the flight suit. Maybe it had been kismet. Whatever it was it worked, since she ended up giving you both an impromptu viewing of the home right then and there.

And 30 minutes after that you and Bradley were putting in an offer on the house, one that was accepted a couple days later.

Your movements were mechanical in the way you get out of your car and into your home. Not bothering to move your heels from where you kicked them off by the door or to pick up your work tote from where it had fallen over.

All you could focus on was moving from one task to the next, determined to not let yourself fall apart. Tossing your clothes in the laundry room as you made your way to your bedroom to close the blinds, finally giving your eyes the break from the light they had needed all day.

Bradley’s well-worn shirt was still where you had left it in the bathroom earlier from when you had changed after your perfect breakfast with him. Before your day had imploded.

Pulling it on over your head, letting Bradley’s scent wash over you, as you finally crawled into your bed with a ragged sigh.

You were home.

You were in your bed.

You were under your soft green comforter.

You were on Bradley’s side of the bed.

You wanted Bradley.

With that as your final thought on repeat like a lullaby of longing, you finally let yourself slide away.

Nothing could wipe the grin from Bradley’s face as he drove home with the California sun shining down on him.

He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the successful hop he had completed earlier in the day.

As part of the training for the newest batch of Top Gun students, he and Mav had been tasked with demonstrating some advanced technical maneuvers before participating in a dog fight exercise. Where he had successfully gotten a lock and pulled tone on his friend and mentor for the first time in a long while.

The glimpse of white lace he had caught earlier that morning in the kitchen when he had sneaked a peek down your oversized shirt had been on his mind all day. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, wondering whether or not his eyes had been playing tricks on him.

Either way he couldn’t wait to find out.

He had even already queued up all of your favorite dishes for the Chinese food delivery he was planning on ordering a little later in the evening. You were going to get his full attention tonight.

There was nothing he loved more than getting creative and putting that canopy bed to the test, and so far the overpriced-but-well-built bed hadn’t let him down.

He was going to enjoy his time taking you apart bit by bit.

Normally, he was the one to always beat you home, so he was surprised but elated to see your car parked in the drive way. He might need to order that food earlier than he expected, now that there was more time to work up an appetite and you both would need your sustenance for what he had planned.

Whistling to himself as he got out of the Bronco, he unzipped his flight suit and tugged it down tying the arms around his waist, he knew what you liked. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t the star in all your fantasies.

The door was already unlocked, which wasn’t like you. He imagined you probably forgot to lock it in a haste to get inside to grab a cold glass of rosé before catching up on some reality tv on the couch.

He hoped you weren’t watching the newest episode of Below Deck without him. He wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, but you had gotten him hooked on the show. Captain Lee reminded him of one of the Commanders he’d had during flight school.

Walking in he was a little annoyed to find your shoes and bag littered on the floor of the entry. He likes to keep things tidy, while you like to keep things “lived in”. Bending down he undid his shoes and picked up your things. Putting your bag in the coat closet for you, out of sight out of mind. He knew you didn’t like to bring work home with you if you could avoid it.

Your heels were dangling from his fingers as he turned the corner, expecting to see you curled up on the oversized gray sectional, but you’re weren’t there.

Huh.

As he stands in the living room and listens. He can’t hear the sound of the tv from the bedroom either, the house is silent. Trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that was taking up residency in his chest, he made his way to the bedroom. The driving need to find you, to check in on you, was the only thing on his mind now.

He opens the door to your bedroom quietly. The room is darkened, but there are faint rays of sunlight making their way past the edges of the blackout blinds he had installed. And he feels instant relief when he sees you curled up on this side of the bed, head pressed against his pillow.

Being mindful of the edge of the rug, trying to not disturb you, he carefully approaches you kneeling in front of where you’re resting. Your face is still clearly holding the strain of the day, and your eyebrows were knitted together. He lightly brushes the hair away from your face, and even in sleep you seek his touch, head moving slightly to chase the feeling of his fingers.

The pressure in his chest lessening, seeing you safe and sound in your shared bed. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before he stands up putting your heels back in the walk-in closet, and makes his way to the bathroom.

He wanted to rinse the smell of sweat and jet fuel off before he laid in bed with you. Undoing his flight suit the rest of the way he kicks it off, and his eyes snag on the open box of tampons sitting on top of the bathroom counter.

He is quick to undress the rest of the way, and rushes through his usual post-work shower routine doing just the bare minimum. Just some soap and shampoo, he wouldn’t be waiting the five minutes that was recommended on the back of your conditioner bottle that he liked to use sometimes to keep his hair soft.

Once he is dried off enough to pull on the pair of sweatpants he had worn earlier that morning, he makes his way back to you. Lifting up the covers on your side of the bed to slide in behind you. Wrapping an arm around you as he pressed himself closer to you, and you sighed lightly at the contact.

He lets his eyes drift close as he holds you. He didn’t know exactly what kind of a day you had had, but all that mattered to him was that he would be there for you when you woke up.

You’re warm.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist and a solid chest pressed against your back.

And for the first time since you’d left the house this morning things didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had been when you were on your own.

“Bradley?” you whisper in the quiet of your bedroom.

You so desperately want him to be awake, you just want him right now.

Please be awake.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” he murmurs, and the relief that washes over you is strong and immediate.

You turn over, needing to be closer to him, wanting to lose yourself in his warmth and to never leave this bed again.

He opens his arms for you, smoothing out some of your sleep-matted hair behind your ear as you drape yourself over him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, your throat thick with emotion.

He’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly. A crease between his eyebrows as he searches your eyes, as he reads you in that way that no one else does. And you know he knows.

There’s no stopping the cry that erupts from deep in your chest. There’s no holding back the tears that have been prickling behind your eyelids all day.

His gentleness is the thing that ends up being your undoing.

Bradley just pulls you closer, tucking your head into the safe space in the nook of his neck, as you shake with the sobs that reverberate throughout your whole body. Quietly shushing you soothingly as he kisses the crown of your head.

And when he picks up your left hand and kisses the pair of rings that have a home there in an unspoken vow, it only makes you cry harder.

The Toi et Moi engagement ring had never left your ring finger since the day Bradley put it there. Carole’s round diamond nestled next to your mom’s oval shaped one were fixed together permanently in gold. It was only fitting that you carried both of them with you always, a reminder of how their friendship was the beginning of you and Bradley.

Your wedding band had been forged from the melted remains of that symbol of love between the man you never met and the woman who had loved you like a daughter, the people responsible for bringing the love of your life into the world.

Through the sounds of your weeping, Bradley’s quiet murmurs made it to your ears and his words wrapped themselves around your heart.

The delicate I’m sorrys, the soft I’m heres, the gentle I’ve got yous, the tender I love yous.

You heard every single one of them as he repeated them over and over again as you gave yourself up to the tidal wave of emotions that you had been fighting to suppress all day.

You and Bradley had been married for a little two years. You were perfectly happy with your life. Bradley was perfectly happy with your life. And that was all that mattered.

You didn’t feel that ticking clock that seemed to follow women over a certain age around like a dark cloud. Neither one of you was in a particular rush, more than happy to enjoy the process and to take full advantage of that large canopy bed in your bedroom.

There was time, you had time.

However, seeing that stain on the pretty-but-now-probably-ruined lacy lingerie had hit you harder than you ever could have expected.

You and Bradley had only been trying for a couple of months. And logically you knew better, knew that it might take some time to happen.

You knew better, yet your heart hadn’t been given the same message.

And with all of the work drama lately, you really should have thought about how the stress might have played a role when you were a few days late instead of letting yourself get ahead of yourself. You had already been planning on stopping by the convenience store after work to pick up a box of tests, and instead you had come home with a new box of tampons.

Before Bradley, you had never given much thought about being a mother or starting a family. But being with Bradley? Thinking about how he would be the best partner and best dad to a child that was half him and half you, there was nothing more that you wanted than that future.

You wanted it. Oh, you wanted it.

You can feel the burning trail of every hot tear that made its way down your face as Bradley rubbed small circles on your back with his large hand in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Crying over the work shit that you hated bringing home with you. Of how it felt to be so viciously thrown under the bus and then the relief of knowing your boss sided with you.

Crying over the elderly man selling flowers on the street corner you had seen on your way home and the sad hunch of his back.

Crying over the pretty lace bodysuit that was soaking in the sink of the laundry room that might not never be the same again. And the fact that Bradley never got to see you in it.

Crying over what wasn’t meant to be. At least not right now.

You cried over all of it. All at once. All while Bradley held you, cradled you, loved you.

In your home.

In your bed.

Under the soft green comforter.

On his side of the bed.

His chest ached at the sound of your sobs.

It was agony to feel so helpless as you cried into neck, as he felt your tears on his skin. He would have given anything to be able to take on your pain, it was a burden he would have willingly carried for you.

So he did what he could: he held you.

Held you as you wept. Held you when the sobs tapered into sniffles. Held you as your tears dried on his skin.

When he was sure you were done crying, he pulled back a bit so that he could see your face, to be able to look in your eyes. They were red and swollen, but you were still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Using his thumb, he carefully wipes under your eyes to remove the few teardrops that still cling to your lower lashes.

He leans in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering on yours as he breathes you in, before climbing out of the bed.

He didn’t want the shadows of the day to drown out your light any more than it already had.

“Come on, kid,” he says holding out both of his hands to help sit you up at the edge of the bed.

Walking to your shared closet, he sheds his sweatpants and pulls on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. He riffles through the dresser in there, the one he had bought for you a few years ago when he wanted you to move in with him, until he finds your softest dress. Stopping by the bathroom on his way back to you to grab a cool, damp washcloth.

You’re sitting there so despondently, your eyes still holding such sadness. He motions for you to lift your arms up, and he pulls his old UVA shirt up and off your body, replacing it with the dress he had fetched for you. Picking up the towel from where he had set it on the nightstand, he runs it softly over your face. Across your forehead, down the line of your nose, taking special care to be gentle around the delicate skin under your eyes.

When he’s done he tosses back onto the nightstand and crouches in front of you so that his eyes are level with yours. Reaching out he cradles your face tenderly between his hands and asks, “You with me?”

He takes the way you turn your head to place a kiss his palm as a yes.

“Good,” he whispers as he presses his lips against your cheek, “Let’s go.”

Threading his fingers though yours, he leads you out of the darkened bedroom and into the golden light of the late afternoon sun that was flooding into your living room through the diamond paneled windows. He makes a stop in the kitchen to grab you a cold water bottle from the fridge, passing it to you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

He helps you with your shoes before sliding his own on, and grabs his wallet and keys. At the Bronco he is the one to help you up and that buckles you in. Rummaging through his glove box to find your sunglasses, he slips the on your face for you before putting on his own. And then with an arm tucked behind your sea, he backs out of the driveway.

There is only a glimmer of an idea in his brain, all he really knew is that he couldn’t stand to see you looking so heartbroken for a second longer.

He is attempting to make a left hand turn when he hears you say, “Bradley, please not this way.”

Unfortunately, he heard your request too late. He was stopped at the light with the traffic lining up next to him and behind him. He turned to ask why you didn’t want to go this way, but you were looking intensively out your window and purposefully away from his direction.

He is confused for a moment and then he is hit with a stroke of brilliance when he sees an elderly man on the set up on the concrete divider surrounded by various buckets of flowers.

He hears you call his name as he jumps out of the car to approach the vendor, he is a man on a mission.

In the vows he spoke when he made you his wife, he promised to be the one person in this world you could count on to make you happy, to be the one person who would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

And that’s what he intended to do.

The hunched over man cheerfully accepted all the bills that he had in his leather wallet in exchange for what was left of his stock. And Bradley was happy that this meant the man could go home for the day and that you would have all the flowers he could get his hands on. It seemed like a more than fair trade to him.

He waved off the older man’s offer to help pile them all in the back of the Bronco, grabbing as many of the cellophane clusters as he could before making his way back to you.

“Bradley!” you laugh almost disbelievingly as he approaches, you’re wearing the first smile he has seen from you since you left the house this morning, and it makes his heart soar. “We’re going to cause a riot here.”

The light is green now and the cars behind him are clearly irritated, but he still another armload to go get, “Let them honk, sweet girl. We’ve got all the time we need.”

Once he has the rest of your flowers loaded in the back, he makes his way to your favorite taco stand. And then your favorite burger place, followed by the place two blocks away with your favorite fries.

And of course, he stops at the milkshake place, ordering a chocolate cherry chip shake for you and a peanut butter one from himself before driving towards the sunset and the beach.

You almost feel like crying again when Bradley parks in the lot at the public beach he has taken you to, but this time you know they’d be happy tears.

“Think we can manage all of this in one go?” he muses jokingly gesturing to the various take out bags that were piled in between your feet.

“I’d bet money on us,” you smile back at him.

“I would too, sweet girl,” he leans in to kiss you before he moves to get out of the Bronco. He rounds the car and opens the door to help you down.

He grabs the Pendleton blanket he keeps under the seat and tucks it under his arm. Then hands you the milkshakes and grabs the rest of the bags before nodding his head towards the beach.

“You know I can carry some of that too, right?” you tease pointing to his overloaded arms.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, but let me take care of this. I’ve got it,” he assures you, although you know he means more than just the bags, “Plus those are our most valuable pieces of cargo, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my milkshake.”

His affectionate grin was the only balm your heart would ever need.

The two of you only make it a few steps towards the beach before he tells you he forgot something as he doubles back to the car.

Wondering what could have been left behind, you watch him as he sets down the takeout bags down to reach into the back of the Bronco pulling out one of the many brightly colored wrapped bouquets resting in the back. He tucks that under his other arm before gathering the rest of the items for your impromptu beach picnic again and jogs back towards you.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

While you’re enjoying the spectacular show the sun is putting on for you as it starts to set as you stroll along the shore with Bradley, you realize that you’re feeling much lighter than before. That the inescapable heaviness that had settled on you over the course of the day no longer felt like it was resting entirely on your shoulders anymore.

And you know without a doubt that it has everything to do with your husband.

The two of you find the perfect spot in the sand, a little pocket of peace away from the noise of the boardwalk, he stands there for a second with an adorably concerned expression when he realizes the issue that he has created for himself by carrying all the items for your picnic in his capable but overloaded arms. And you laugh as you adjust the milkshakes in your hands to help offload the various bags in his hands so that he can lay out the blanket.

He smooths out the sand some before he opens up the blue geometric blanket. Once it is spread out to his liking, he takes the bags from you putting them in the corner, your only responsibility now to safeguard the milkshakes.

He seats himself down on the woven blanket, patting the space in front of him for you to come join him there. And once you are nestled between his propped legs, he pulls you back to rest against his chest.

You are surrounded by all of your favorite things: your husband, the best of San Diego’s drive-thru culinary offerings, the ocean, and the flowers you didn’t know you needed until Bradley got them for you.

And in that moment, you finally feel at peace as you and Bradley dig in to your picnic as you watch the sun inch closer down to the horizon.

You still had the rest of the week to get though. You knew there would be a mountain of work for you to deal with when you went back into the office tomorrow, that man with the flowers would probably be back in his same location tomorrow his buckets full of new bouquets to sell, and you would still be waiting and hoping for your maybe someday soon.

But you could face anything since you had Bradley by your side.

The food might be cold, the fries a little soggy, and the milkshakes were half melted now, but everything about it is perfect.

You let him support you in more ways than one as you settled more fully against him after you were both done eating. It was easier now to talk to him about your day, about the things he knew about and the things he didn’t as you watched the waves roll in and out along the shore as the tide came in.

You felt him tense up when you told him about your disaster of a day at the office. You felt him squeeze you in celebration when you told you about your unofficially official promotion. You felt him as he kissed your cheek when you told him about the equally ruined surprise and lingerie.

The other part you didn’t need to speak the words for, he knew your heart.

You would always have Bradley, and he would always have you.

That’s how it had always been back when you were kids forming the foundation of your friendship, and that’s how it was now as adults navigating the hardships and joys of this life you were building together.

A life where there was always someone there you could count on to pick you back up when you needed them the most.

He kisses your shoulder and rests his chin there as he takes in the view, gently rocking you side to side.

“I love you,” you murmur softly, resting your head against his, “Thank you.”

You know he hears what you are really saying.

Thank you for treating me the best. Thank you for knowing me the best. Thank you for loving me the best.

“It’s going to be ok, sweet girl” he promises against your mouth.

And you believe him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you need a virtual hug my inbox is always open!

This is a one-shot for my 'Like I Can' series.

Here’s a little moodboard for this fic too!

You can check out my other stories here!

Tag List:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x female reader #rooster x you

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dead-dove-yandere · 1 month

Note

Yandere teacher x principal reader

I had a teacher OC already but I thought he’d maybe be too similar to Dr. Hart so I was never going to write about him - thank you anon for giving me an excuse to write about him 🙌

OC Intro - Professor Moore

Tutor Yandere

Male ♡ 35 ♡ Human ♡ Teacher

TW: Stalking, obsession, implied kidnap, murder

♡ - When you hired him as the new Head English Teacher at your school, you were delighted - Professor Moore seemed perfectly qualified in every way.

♡ - He had plenty of prior experience and gleaming references, he was superbly qualified in English and, of course, he simply had the most charming manners during the interview. He was the obvious choice, and you hired him straight away.

♡ - He was popular among many of the female students, being fairly young g for a teacher as well as attractive, but you’d never admit that out loud for the sake of professionalism.

♡ - He was a joy to have in staff meetings, offering helpful suggestions to aid the students’ learning and insightful comments as to where the students were at now.

♡ - Eventually, you found yourself becoming friends with him when you both took lunch in the staff room. He was a wonderfully erudite conversationalist, and you both always learned something from each other.

♡ - That’s why it seemed so odd that such a perfect teacher suddenly started acting strangely.

♡ - You feared the worst at first, that perhaps he was somehow mistreating his students, but none of them seemed to be hurt or upset by him - on the contrary, many seemed to enjoy his class.

♡ - But he continued to act strangely. He took far more notes than was normal in staff meetings. He’d slip in and out of the staff room at random intervals and never mention where he’d been. Sometimes, there’d be strange marks on his hands or arms. He was nearly always in the school library, but when you saw him, he almost never read what you’d expect an English teacher to read, but books on all kinds of subjects; history, engineering, chemistry. Like he was studying for something of his own.

♡ - One day, you were feeling unwell with a terrible migraine. Normally, as principal, it was your job to lead assemblies, but you asked Professor Moore if he could fill in for you. He agreed far too readily.

♡ - As you sat at the back of the hall, listening to his assembly, he went on this strange speech about devotion and loyalty and how in order to get what you wanted, you had to work for it. The assembly didn’t have a core message you disagreed with - but he seemed fanatical, his voice raising with excitement and his eyes growing wide.

♡ - The other teachers exchanged confused glances.

♡ - It came to a head when, after a troublesome student was pulled into your office, her parents decided to yell at you - after all, how dare the principal accuse their precious child of misbehaving?

♡ - When they finally left your office, Professor Moore came to your office with some tissues and a shoulder to cry on. He listened sympathetically as you told him of your concerns and how the student’s parents were going to get themselves into a lot of trouble if they let their child run riot.

♡ - It wasn’t long before your prophecy inadvertently came true - you heard that the troublesome student’s parents had been found dead - leaving the poor troubled student an orphan.

♡ - It wasn’t long before Summer break began, and worried for your students’ safety, you closed the school early since the deaths seemed suspicious. You stayed behind, the last one there to lock up.

♡ - As you cleared your desk for Summer and finished an explanatory email to all the parents, you hear a soft knock on your door and Professor Moore enters with a friendly smile.

♡ - He offers you a lift home - after all, it isn’t all that safe if nearly a whole family could get killed like that, and you two are friends after all.

♡ - You nod and agree, relieved that someone you trust will make sure you get home safe and sound. You willingly follow him straight into his car.

♡ - It isn’t until Summer Holiday is over that anyone realises that you’ve gone missing.

Personality

Stern and serious, he knows that it takes hard work to get what one wants, as he endlessly reminds his students. That’s why he’ll never give up trying to get closer to his darling. He takes a far more subtle approach than most yanderes, fabricating and manipulating situations in order to have as much time as possible alone with his darling. He prefers to play the long game. Of course, that isn’t to satisfy he won’t get his hands dirty if he needs to, but he’ll clean up immaculately after himself. Not a speck of evidence shall be left behind - he’s far too experienced to make an amateur mistake like that.

The troubled student is Cayce, Dead Dove Interconnected Universe Confirmed

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

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crushmeeren · 4 months

Text

Eijirou is the best daddy to your little boy. As such, he deserves a little bit of break every now and then. After all, he’d taken the past few days off from grueling hero work to deal with an entirely different type of beast. A three year old who still acts as if he’s in his terrible two’s era.

If you’re being honest , you’d been a bit overwhelmed lately with the little boy—who’d just manifested his own quirk, much to your chagrin. Similar to his daddy’s, with a twisted version of yours thrown in.

Not to mention inheriting Eijirou’s shark teeth. So here you have a three year old boy with a mouth full of razors, who can manipulate shadows. Force them to harden and take shape as 3D figures & partially harden his skin. A recipe for a migraine.

It’s getting close to evening when Eijirou slips off his headset, ruffling his fingers through his loose, soft hair to try and tame it—useless, he knows. He had only taken 30 minutes to play a short game with Bakugou in the peaceful sanctity of your bedroom before telling the blonde he had to go.

Logging off quickly when his best friend started to curse about Eijirou kicking his ass. The red headed man is laughing to himself when he hears a loud crash from the kitchen, making him jump. Followed by a sharp gasp escaping you. So much for peace & quiet.

“Mikoto! No sir, absolutely not, you do not treat things with disrespect just because you don’t get what you want,” you scold, voice laced with irritation. Eijirou is already rounding the corner to the kitchen by the time you finish speaking.

“No mama! I want juice!” Mikoto yells, edging on hysterical. Eijirou takes in the scene. A doll with its head ripped off is scattered on the ground. As well as a small, somewhat humanoid shaped shadow holding Mikoto’s sippy cup. Eijirou’s eyebrows raise to his hairline as he watches the shadow hurl the cup to the floor. Top exploding, water splashing everywhere.

“Mikoto,” Eijirou rumbles, stopping your son dead in his tracks. A look of relief crosses over your face as you make brief eye contact with Eijirou as your little boy spins around.

“Daddy, Mama’s being mean, she won’t give me juice,” Mikoto whines, tears welling up in his sharp red eyes, curling his little hands into fists. His nose is scrunched in anger—it would be cute if he wasn’t being a holy terror. Eijirou sighs through his nose softly, bending down to match your son’s eye level.

“Miko, Mama isn’t doing it to be mean, she’s doing what’s best for you—and that includes drinking water. You know you’re not supposed to treat your Mama or your things badly right?” Eijirou asks, voice gentle but firm.

He settles a large hand on Mikoto’s shoulder, squeezing in a comforting gesture. Mikoto lets his shadow figures melt away, looking guilty.

“Right,” Mikoto sulks, hesitantly looking at Eijirou through the black hair obscuring part of his face. He sniffles once and rubs his small fists against his eyes, seemingly calming down.

Eijirou hums reassuringly but then Mikoto chooses violence, stomping his foot and raising his chin up. Your eyes widen as you watch the scene unfold from behind.

“Miko-,” You’re cut off by a high pitched wail.

“I want juice Daddy!” Mikoto sobs loudly, tears spilling over his lashes, down his cheeks and wetting his shirt. Eijirou immediately scoops up your son in his arms, standing to his full height.

He catches the exhausted look on your face as he rubs Mikoto’s back soothingly. Who is currently crying so hard into his shoulder you think he might throw up. His little, slightly harden fingers fisting Eijirou’s shirt.

“You can leave the mess, I’ll take care of it and the crab apple here,” He teases. “You should nap my love, I think Mikoto needs one too” Eijirou winces, voice raising in volume so you can hear him over the crying.

“You sure Ei?” You prod gently, chest blossoming with overwhelming love & gratitude for the man before you. Eijirou just nods his head in the direction of the bedroom and you send a withering look his way before giving in.

You mouth I love you at him and he grins radiantly, returning the gesture sweetly—even with a toddler scream crying & blowing out his ear drum.

You waste no time darting past the two of them, letting your fingers trail shortly over both of them as you pass by. The wailing fades to the background as you shut your bedroom door. You can vaguely hear Eijirou whisper sweet, calming words to your son. You stumble to your bed, face planting and burrowing under the covers, passing out almost instantly.

What must be at least a couple hours later, you wake up to a dark room, stretched out on your belly and realizing it must be nighttime by now. You perk up an ear, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of crying piercing the air. You get up, cracking open the bedroom door as quiet as humanly possibly before padding out to the living room.

Your heart aches pleasantly at the sweet sight you stumble upon. The soft glow from the kitchen night light is bathing the living room, the only other source of light coming from the TV. Eijirou is lying on his back along the couch. One arm folded under his head, the other palm resting protectively over Mikoto’s back.

Both boys are fast asleep, your toddler lounging without a care in the world on Eijirou’s chest, cheek squished cutely. You take it upon yourself to poke around the kitchen, finding no signs of mutilated dolls or small bodies of water.

What you do find, is a hand made card resting on the counter top. A giant, poorly drawn heart on the front. It reads “sorry mama”, on the inside. Your cheeks warm and your eyes sting—drowning in gut wrenching love for your two boys.

Stepping over to the couch you cover them with a soft, fuzzy blanket—bending over to kiss them both quickly on the head. Neither of them stir, dead to the world. Fondly you think to yourself, Eijirou really is the best daddy.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima headcanon #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima fluff #kirishima ejirou #dad kirishima #kirishima eijiro x y/n #eijirou kirishima #eijirou kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima x you #mha eijiro kirishima #mha oneshot

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moonydustx · 4 days

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Zoro, Luffy, Ace, Mihawk, and Lucci as well as Crocodile x Reader, what if the reader, one day tells them that they are pregnant, how would they react/ How would they be as parents? ( also maybe add some parenting shenanigans, knowing these guys.)

OMG! You have no idea how much I loved your request. I know, I know, it took me a looooong time to respond. But after a few migraines (and anxiety), I'm back. I was already thinking about doing something like that, but I was lacking some kind of inspiration so thanks <3 Maybe I got carried away with writing, I'm terrible at summaries and things like that , but I hope you like it.

The structure is kind of: them discovering the pregnancy, them dealing with the pregnancy and a small hint of how they deal with the children.

Warnings are placed individually in each story.

I'm dividing it into two parts so as not to be exhaustive. (I'm sorry, I reaaaally got carried away writing it).

PART 2 HERE - Lucci, Mihawk and Crocodile.

Zoro

Warnings: Fluuuff, super fluff. F!Reader has a bad health at the beginning of this one. Sanji is Zoro's daughter's favorite person for food reasons.And of course, Zoro is protective and jealous (especially towards the little girl).

It should have just been a momentary relief, you didn't expect the little escapades between you and Zoro to turn into a relationship. Much less did I expect to have seen the two blue lines on the small stick that you kept hidden in your small desk. How to raise a baby in Sunny? How to tell Zoro that the relationship between the two of you would now gain another part?

You wished you had more time to think about the solution, more time to even clear your doubts with Chopper, but the little being inside you insisted on demonstrating its existence. One of the days, you had almost passed out on top of Franky - who obviously freaked out. In the other, he had eaten twice as much as Luffy ate and had to come up with a lame excuse. This time, it was the third time in a row that you had put food in your mouth and it barely lasted minutes in your stomach.

"Hey…" you heard your name being called from outside the bathroom, but it was a female voice. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine, Robin."

"I believe that fine is not the term that best defines your situation." she laughed, still outside. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, you reached out and opened the door, giving her space to enter. "What's our plan?"

"What do you mean our plan?"

"Nausea, dizziness, food cravings, and all the noise you and Zoro make when you're alone." with every word that came out of her mouth, you could feel your skin turn pale. "The swordsman doesn't know yet, right?"

"Not yet." your face sank into your own hands, frustrated with the indecision that plagued your mind. "What do I do, Robin?"

"I suggest you talk to your boyfriend soon, I believe he might accept the idea better than you might expect." She smiled gently, brushing aside the strands of hair that stuck to your face. "However, right now he's trying to kill the cook because he thinks he gave you some spoiled food."

Robin's light laugh was left behind as you ran towards the screams, which had seemed imperceptible before now became increasingly audible.

"Stupid cook, he doesn't even know how to make an egg properly."

"You moldhead, shut your mouth."

"Mold is what you're putting in your food."

"You two stop." you stood between the two, shouting at the top of your lungs and interrupting their argument and the laughter of the others, who were entertained by Zoro and Sanji fighting. "I just… I just need…" the air seemed to disappear from your lungs and the scorching sun above you became just a black screen.

Minutes, hours, days, when your eyes opened, you felt so tired that you couldn't calculate how long you were gone. The first thing that crossed your field of vision was Chopper walking from side to side with a stethoscope in hand.

"Ah, you're awake!" he came happily by your side.

"What happened?" you knew very well what had happened, but first of all you needed to find out what the little doctor had already discovered.

"I'm sorry, but Robin told me some things." He placed the cold item to listen to your heartbeat, remaining silent for a few seconds.

"And is everything okay? I mean, with…" the word seemed to disappear from your lips, it was difficult to bring up the idea without knowing how the other party responsible for it would react.

"These days helping Franky, all this commotion from the fight, from my diagnosis, you're just exhausted. And a little dehydrated too, and that's not good for you or the baby." he explained, sweetly as usual. "By my reckoning, you must be two months pregnant. I'll talk to Luffy and Nami, so we can quickly find an island and secure supplies."

"Wait!" you held him, even though the reindeer hadn't moved. "Can I talk to Zoro first?"

"Of course, he doesn't know yet, right? But he's out there, very worried."

"Do you mind calling him for me?" you asked and saw him nod, leaving the small infirmary.

Your body still feeling heavy from fatigue, you sat down thinking about what words to use, how to bring up such an important subject. The door opened, but you lacked the courage to face the man who stopped in front of you. His silhouette on the ground began to become more real and closer, only then did you realize that he had bent down to be at your height.

"Ready to talk about this?" he whispered and adjusted his posture, remaining standing in front of you as your legs dangled off the bed.

"About what?" His eyes dropped from your face, went to your stomach and looked back at you. To his surprise, he found your orbs wide open in surprise. "How do you know?"

"I was looking for my material to clean my katanas, I missed the drawer and ended up opening yours. I found something strange there and asked Robin. As the drawer was yours, the test could only be yours." he listed with the most passable face in the world.

At the same time it lifted a burden from your conscience. You wanted to kill him for leaving you in agony and thinking of ways to bring up the subject.

"I understood." Your voice was calmer than you could have expected, but you could feel your eyes burning with pure anticipation - and hormones, which you would still discover how much they would affect you. "And what do we do now?"

"We continued sailing." Noticing your stress, one of his hands joined yours, on top of your belly. "And if it becomes too risky, beyond my ability to protect you both, we step aside for a while and then the three of us come back when it's safe."

You wanted to be grateful that he didn't freak out, you wanted to freak out yourself or even say "What do you mean we're step aside?", but the only things that came out of you were tears and sobs, as you clung to his torso.

"I-I thought you would hate me…" a lot more sobs, a lot more tears. "And you was going to leave me on some island."

"I would never do that."

"And I-I wanted to eat the salad Sanji makes."

"You can ask that idiot." Zoro gave his arm, he didn't understand much about pregnancies, but when he found out about the subject Robin explained some things about hormones and sensitivity, while Chopper, in the little time he had to call him, had warned him about the health conditions of the woman who he loved most in the world. Arguments with the cook could wait.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He had to contain his own laughter hearing you say such nonsense. "I promise to take care of you both, here at Sunny or anywhere else."

Zoro couldn't define his promise about taking care of you better. The remaining months of pregnancy passed faster than you could imagine, despite you being left out of any and all activities. No fighting, no major exploration, no staying near stairs or high places. On the other hand, there was a type of exercise that your hormones craved - and consequently, disturbed the entire team.

After long hours of labor, you didn't know who was screaming more - you, in pain, Zoro desperately wanting Chopper to do something or Luffy thinking you were going to die, seeing the blood when he decided to peek into the room. When little Kuina was born, everyone, including you, discovered a new side of the swordsman. More careful, delicate, he held the little girl like the most precious thing in the entire universe. The three swords were no longer tied to him all the time, the insults directed at the cook became a little lighter when the little girl with green hair was nearby.

"Uncle Sanjiiiii" the girl, now five years old, ran and hummed towards the kitchen, clinging to the cook's leg. "Can you make 'rispy potatos for me?"

"Of course my dear, just give me a few minutes." you saw the cook laugh at her pronunciation, but he already knew the girl's favorite dish and no, they weren't the spicy ones.

"Why don't you ask me?" Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms and forcing you not to make fun of him and destroy the little authority he had - yes, little because the man had a soft heart towards his daughter. Not to mention the small jealousy he accumulated towards little Kuina.

"Uncle Sanji's are tastier." she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing with the cook afterwards.

"You know what? Let's see." Zoro marched to the edge of the sink and took the girl from the cook's legs. "You go with your mommy there while we go prepare something."

"Please don't kill yourselves." you murmured, picking the small girl up in your arms. "And you my love, what do you think about going to see Usopp fishing?"

"Yay!"

Zoro practically growled at Sanji and began to dedicate himself to his tasks. Boiled and roasted potatoes, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside in small pieces, was his daughter's favorite dish, it wasn't that difficult, was it? The presentation wasn't the best, at least not compared to Sanji's, but he watched the girl try a little of each dish. After thinking for a brief moment, she pulled out the plate made by Zoro and began to eat happily.

"This one! The dad ones!" She offered you a small potato, which you accepted. "Daddy knows how to make it too! Now I can eat 'rispys every day."

The flavor was good, but you knew that cooking wasn't your now husband's strong point. You reached out and took a small piece of Sanji's and understood what it was, seeing the blonde blink quickly at you, unnoticeable to the other two. In this case, your husband was now holding your daughter on his lap and spinning her around while she was thrilled that he would now have a new potato supplier.

"Uncle Captain Luffy will like it. Dad, shall we take some for him?" she asked showing with her little fingers the small amount she wanted to share and as always, Zoro immediately answered her.

"You know he's going to eat it all, don't you my dear?" He took the plate with his free hand and left with the girl on his lap.

"Thanks." you turned to Sanji, who smiled.

"I may not be a fan of the mosshead, but I wouldn't accept seeing little Kuina disappointed." he replied, removing the dishes that had accumulated on the table and tasting some of the potato he had made. "I just didn't add any seasoning."

"The shitty cook doesn't know how to cook." you both heard him cheering outside and Kuina right behind. "Shitty cook, shiiiity, shit."

"Zoro!"

"I think I already regret helping." the blonde grumbled, watching you follow the two and give him a good scolding.

Luffy

warnings: Fluff, angst with a happy ending. Luffy is a lot more mature than usual in this one, mention of F!Reader being hurt (nothing serious). Gear 5 Luffy (yes, I'm still excited about his latest appearance). The child's name is Ravi, which means sun.

The floor of the small room that the two of you shared seemed to be about to sink with all the turns you had already taken and you were amazed that the test in your hands hadn't yet broken from so many times that it bumped against your fingers in pure anxiety.

"Hey, did you call me?" Luffy appeared at the door noticing that you were alone. "Finally, just the two of us!" he vibrated, about to grab you.

Since the two of you had left Foosha Village, you hadn't let go of each other. You started as rivals when you were children in Dadan's house and it took you a few months after entering the sea to understand the true feelings you had for each other. It didn't take long for him to call you his own pirate queen and introduce you as his girlfriend.

"Hi! Are you around?" he waved in front of you, taking you away from the memories of a past that was already distant and so different from what you would face.

"Luffy, we need to talk." you tried to take a firmer stance.

"As your captain or as your boyfriend?" He remembered the little agreement the two of you had made, to separate matters to maintain order - more precisely so you wouldn't kill your boyfriend when he stole food from your plate and, consequently, be left without a captain too.

"I think both, I don't know." a frustrated sigh left you, shoulders carrying the immense burden of fear. "I was feeling strange a few days ago, I was late…"

"Late for what?"

"I'm pregnant!" you spat out the words quickly. If the man hadn't been paying attention, he would barely have caught it. "I'm pregnant, Luffy."

"This is…" he sat down on the bed, lowering his head. You had never touched on such a subject, it barely crossed your mind what his attitude would be.

"I understand it's a lot, I'm scared too…Luffy?"

His laughter took over the room as soon as your feet left the floor and he turned you around, pressing your body tightly against his arms.

"A baby! A mini me or a mini you!" he vibrated and noticed your expression close. "Don't you want a mini me?"

"Not that. Just don't…" your hand went to your mouth, containing the nausea. "No spins, for a while."

"Ah, sorry." he placed you on the ground, more carefully. "How do you feel?"

"A little scared, I guess." You laughed lightly when you saw him bend down to analyze your belly. He promptly put his ear to it, trying to hear something. "Babe, the baby is the size of a grape now, it's a little hard to hear."

"But I know he knows I'm here. A boy!" He placed a quick kiss on your skin. You wouldn't question the fact that he's sure the baby is a boy.

"I think this is the best treasure I could find." you murmured, hugging your boyfriend and allowing yourself to stay there for a few seconds.

"Love?" his voice called to you quietly. "Can I tell everyone?"

"For sure!"

"Guys!!!" He barely waited for you to respond and pulled you out the door, shouting for his friends. "Let's have another crewmate."

"What idea is this Luffy?" Nami cut off her own scolding when she saw him pointing at her belly.

"We're going to have a baby!" your fear ceased for a while when you saw everyone vibrate with the news.

The time you had to find your balance, you lost when you felt Nami and Robin hug you together, happy for the news. It didn't take long for your other companions to congratulate you on the new life that had emerged there.

"Luffy, we need to stop at an island soon so I can get some materials." Chopper warned and the captain immediately agreed.

"Sanji, can we have a feast to celebrate, please." Luffy asked for cook, being interrupted by you who joined him.

"Meat…" the word alone brought the flavor to your mouth. "I need to eat meat and a pie, please Sanji. It could even be meat pie." you asked, clinging to the cook, in the best Luffy style. Noticing the attitude, you soon resumed your posture. "I think I have a little craving… for meat."

It was undeniable that Luffy's genes were strong in the little child who was growing month by month. Restless, the unborn baby was always making you incessantly hungry and seemed to think your belly was made of elastic. Anyone who looked at you would find you with a small package of snacks in hand or grumbling to Luffy about why he had to insist on poking your belly when the baby was quiet, making the child start kicking again. Luffy still didn't seem to have much of an idea of what having a pregnant girlfriend was like. Occasionally he would steal your snacks or make plans that involved you, getting slapped by other companions.

"She's strong and I'm sure our son will be too." was his common response every time.

The contour of the bulge of your belly was already noticeable at six months of pregnancy and even so, you liked to follow Luffy and the others on each new island they stepped on. This time, you didn't expect that a little shopping break would turn into a horror so quickly. An enemy of Luffy had found you along with Nami and Sanji and even though the cook was capable of fighting, he couldn't hold off the man and his henchmen for so long.

Your head was small compared to the man's hand that held it. The instinct taking over your body made you bring your arms to your belly, protecting the being that was developing there, while he dragged you to where Luffy was. As you approached, for the first time in a while you saw terror in your beloved's eyes.

"I see there have been interesting changes." The man's slurred voice irritated you more than usual. He lifted you off the ground and gave your stomach a little poke. "As far as I know, I bet it's a little straw hat."

"Let. Her. Go." the threat implied in Luffy's voice was different than most times. You remembered seeing him like this when a tenryuubito decided to hit Hatchan, but still, he seemed to have more hate in him than you had ever witnessed. "I told you, keep your hands off her."

"As you wish."

Disdain was present in the man's every attitude and in the same way that he had barely used his strength to lift you, he did the same to throw you meters away. With the wind against your body and the screams of your friends like blurs passing by you, you cringed and waited for the impact that didn't come. Instead, you felt something wrap around you and your body land against something soft.

When you opened your eyes, you found Luffy holding you, putting you on your feet even though he didn't let go.

"You're okay, you're alive, you're okay…" the words came out of his mouth like a mantra. It was like seeing relief and fear walking side by side.

As soon as his hands released you, you felt yourself staggering, being supported by someone behind you. Luffy's hands held your face delicately as if a breath could take you away. He took off his straw hat and placed it on you and one of his hands rested on your belly, feeling the agitation under your skin, which seemed to bring the lucidity he needed.

"Jinbe, take her back to the ship." Luffy didn't bother to look at his companion who had just approached, his eyes roamed your face in search of any discomfort. The hand that remained on your face wiped away a small tear that insisted on falling. "Take Chopper with you, get all the tests possible."

"I am fine." you tried to reassure him, seeing that your words had been in vain. "Baby, we're both fine."

"Zoro, protect them." Luffy asked and only then did you realize it was the swordsman supporting you. "Don't let anyone get close to them. Don't let anyone lay a hand on my girl and my son."

"Okay. Jinbe, you carry her. Chopper, stay alert too, but your priority is to get to the ship with the two of them." the mate gave the orders and before your feet left the ground, you felt Luffy place a quick kiss on the small gap between your forehead and the straw hat.

"Those who are left, don't let any of his idiots get out of here. I'm going to finish that bastard off." the last glimpse you saw of Luffy was of his hair turning white.

Something changed that day. The baby was fine, you were fine - enough for Zoro to restrain you and prevent you from returning to the battlefield. Lying on your bed, you curled up again, this time wracked with worries about your captain and boyfriend. Using the straw hat as your companion, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and wait. The sun was already gone when you woke up from your brief nap to feel arms squeeze you tightly.

"Lu?" you turned around and found him smiling, even if a little lighter than usual. Some scratches on the face, but apparently fine.

He took your lips voraciously, capturing them and holding them to his. Your hands soon tangled in the dark strands of his hair and gave him space to fit around your legs, but Luffy moved away.

"Chopper said you're okay, just scared, but you need to rest so our son can be okay too." the captain slid on the bed, until his face was aligned with your belly.

Luffy lifted the cloth that hid your skin and covered your belly with kisses, in silence. Your hands, which previously sought to get tangled in his hair, opted for a light caress.

"I promised to protect you two and today…"

"Today you protected us, love." you interrupted before he even considered finishing the thought. Taking one of his hands, you led him to where the child was kicking. "And someone agrees with me."

From that day on, you saw Luffy change and consequently, you did too. He no longer teased you about your strange diet and didn't even make jokes about the snoring you started to have every night or because you looked like a cuddly ball - except when he, with the help of Usopp and Chopper - tied a watermelon to his belly. and pretended to be you at the end of the pregnancy. Now the words you had said to him "I think this is the best treasure I could find" made more sense to him.

It was early morning when little Ravi was born. The sea water was more crystal clear than usual and your body was sweating cold even though the night was hot when the first contractions hit and lasted throughout the morning. Chopper had chosen Robin and Nami as assistants while Luffy remained there by your side, using the power of the fruit to avoid feeling the strong grip of your hand against him.

Along with the first rays of the morning sun, Ravi came into the world and illuminated Luffy's face. As soon as the boy stopped crying in his father's lap, it was like watching two long-lost friends reunite after so much waiting, Luffy didn't know that he had been waiting for this his whole life and now he knew that he would never be able to stay away from the boy. In a way, it reminded you of the way little Luffy looked at Ace with admiration when they were still children.

He took the feeling seriously since little Ravi became his father's shadow and Luffy didn't make much of a point of preventing the boy from doing something wrong.

"Luffy!" you screamed as you saw him about to throw the two year old into the air.

"But he likes it."

"Sun…Ravi." the little one mumbled a few things.

"See? He wants to reach the sun." Luffy laughed, throwing the child at a much lower height than he intended at the beginning, eliciting a laugh from the baby. "Who wants to go again?"

"That's enough, you two." You stretched your arms to catch the baby, who promptly reached towards you. "It's time for someone to eat!"

"Yay! Let's eat some good food, kid." Luffy ignored you and headed to the kitchen. Before he reached the door, you took little Ravi from him.

"Just little Ravi." you corrected him and saw him mumble.

With each passing year, he became even more like his own father, which meant double work for you. At least at 8 years old, Ravi still had a little more calm than Luffy.

"Zoro!" he walked across the deck to the swordsman "My father said he was going fishing."

"That's good, it means fresh fish for lunch."

"The problem is that the fish caught him. He hasn't come back to the surface for a few minutes." Ravi said without much concern. "Can I go get him? I know how to swim, I don't think my daddy can."

"What the fuck Luffy!" Zoro dropped his swords and threw himself into the sea, attracting his other companions.

"Do not even think about it." Nami warned the boy who was about to reach for one of Zoro's swords.

"But Nami…" he mumbled, lacking the patience to argue. In the same way that she imputed fear to the father, it worked on the son.

"They're too big for your age." you saw him mumble just like Luffy and you had to hold back your laughter.

"Ravi!" Luffy's voice attracted the two of you to the end of the ship where he was, soaked and being scolded immensely by Zoro.

"Wow dad, what a big fish. All this for us?" the boy poked the little monster lying in the deck.

"That's right." Luffy laughed alongside the boy. You thought it was adorable that their laugh was identical.

"Hey Sanji, I'm hungry." they both shouted. Apparently, the appetite was also similar.

Ace

Warnings: fluff, a little angst until Ace finds out, Marco and F!Reader are best friends. Ace just wants to be loved by his baby. And for the record, I know Whitebeard would be a badass grandfather.

"Wait…" Marco began, analyzing your figure standing there biting his nails in front of him. "I thought you heard me when I explained it to you. You know, condoms, medicine, yoi."

"I heard, but maybe I forgot one…" his critical look made you change your tone. "Okay, I forgot to use protection a few times."

"Sit there already." he gave up and waited for you to curl up on the stretcher. Once you did, you watched him prepare a small kit.

"Why do you keep a pregnancy test kit?" You tried to take the object from his hand, but the doctor quickly dodged it.

"I don't keep it." Your eyes watched him concentrate and insert the needle into your arm, drawing a small amount of blood. "You've only been vomiting for two weeks and you've also been refusing to drink with alcohol. I'm a good doctor, yoi."

"And now?"

"Now…" he dripped the blood onto a small white spatula and placed it next to you on the stretcher. "We waited, for five minutes."

"All of this?"

"I've been waiting for you to bring this up for two weeks, don't complain." he replied.

"I needed Ace to be busy or out of here." you simply responded, turning your attention to the clock hanging next to one of the cabinets.

For the remaining minutes you stood there, legs shaking from side to side and watching a Marco as anxious as you. As soon as the hand reached the long-awaited minute, the two of you turned to the test together.

“Two risks…” you started.

"Positive. Looks like I've been promoted to uncle!" the man smiled, containing the feeling when he saw your face.

"I'm pregnant." the phrase still sounded strange to your ears, so sudden and unexpected. "I'm pregnant." you tested again, trying to improve your expression.

"You're pregnant! Now we need to do some more tests to make sure everything is ok. Dad will be happy when he hears about this." Marco placed the test results on a table away from the two of you. "I suggest an ultrasound, it would also be good to see some blood tests."

"My God, Marco, I'm pregnant!" A certain happiness crossed your expression, eliciting a laugh from your closest friend and brother.

"Now you're ready to jump…"

"You are pregnant?" you both turned as you heard a third voice join the room.

Ace looked at the two of you, waiting for some kind of justification, but at the same time it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You were still there, the same girl he had left to follow to a nearby island a few days ago, but now it seemed different. There was almost a glow emanating from you to his eyes.

"Ace, can we talk?" your voice reached his ears, but his mind was in a distant place.

Ace took a few steps back, moving away from the small infirmary and disappearing from your field of vision. You and the doctor looked at each other, surely this was the last reaction either of you would have thought of having.

"Are you feeling good?" Marco's voice pulled you back to reality. "Hey, look at me, yoi."

"I need to talk to him." You ignored your friend's question and went in search of your boyfriend.

From his reaction, you knew you had two options and to solve the first of them, you leaned over and saw that the Striker was still docked and with no one around, you immediately ran towards your room, finding the door closed.

Two knocks weren't enough to get his attention, so ignoring any possible chaotic scene you were going to encounter, you entered the room unceremoniously. The idea of finding the room on fire crossed your mind, but was soon dismissed when you found Ace sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands.

"Babe, please." You asked, trying to keep your tone calmer - despite the internal desperation in him hating you. "Please talk to me."

"Y-You…" his dark irises met yours and only then did you realize that your beloved's eyes were full of water. "I'm going to be a father?"

"My love, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Urgently, you moved closer, holding his face in your hands. "I know it's kind of scary, but I promise we'll figure it out."

"No, no. That's not the problem." he sniffled, not allowing any of the tears to flow. His hand threatened to touch your belly and withdrew. "What if I'm not a good father? What if this child doesn't love me."

"Think about how much I love you Ace, how much you love me." you stated almost obviously, gaining his attention. "What can come out of here, besides love?" your hands found your belly for the first time after the discovery.

Your body was enveloped in a tight hug, his face was almost buried in your belly, while you caressed his dark locks.

"I love you so much." He turned to you, noticing the slight discomfort, he moved his chin away from your stomach. "Oops, I'm sorry."

"It's okay…Ace!!" you screamed as you felt your body hit the bed, now with him fitting between your legs.

When it came to loving you, Ace could be as hot as the fire that emanated from him, strong as the waves that insisted on crashing against Moby Dick. Except that day. His lips touched yours gently, his body didn't press against yours, just covered it lightly. The delicate kisses went down to your belly, being placed as if they always belonged there. His lips found your face again, his smile hovered over yours.

"We need to talk to Marco." he began, interrupting himself to allow his kisses to cover your face again. "I need to know everything that's going on."

"Well, you know now."

"Not this." he grumbled. "We need exams, to know if everything is ok with you two, we also need to know what a baby needs. My god, are you going to give birth here at Moby Dick? We barely have room for the two of us…"

"Calm down, stay calm." you asked as you watched him spiral. With his support, you got back on your feet, holding out your hand for him to get up. "I have a better idea of what we can do."

You expected some commotion, of course. Maybe even a few tears. You didn't expect to see Ace crying like a baby when telling Whitebeard that he was going to be a grandfather and consequently, bringing some tears from your old man and several other colleagues also shedding tears. It was good to know that your little baby would arrive surrounded by love.

The months that followed the discovery were more peaceful than you imagined and even though for a long time you had insisted to your father that there were too many men on that ship, you couldn't complain about being so spoiled.

Want to eat something different? Thatch had it ready within minutes of you ordering. Marco walked like a shadow behind you and Ace - this by his own choice and by Whitebeard's direct order, since on one of the days you were sick, you had almost killed the three men of the heart. It was adorable to see how Ace worried about the mission that was getting closer every month. More than once, you found him in Whitebeard's room, asking for tips on what to do with the baby, how to help you at this time and how he could be a good father. The idea of not being loved by his own son haunted him more than you might expect. Everything seemed great, except one detail: the two of you couldn't agree on the name.

The little baby decided to arrive a few weeks ahead of schedule, which caused widespread chaos on the boat. Ace was having dinner with the other commanders when your scream reached his ears, along with Whitebeard's scream that echoed louder than any earthquake he had ever created, prompting them to speed up the preparations for the birth. Apparently, immense pain arose when you and your father were talking, which led you to stay in the ship's medical wing for hours. Your screams were heard throughout the ship while Ace served as your support point. The little boy was born and if you hadn't been feeling so weak, you would have laughed at the screams of joy coming from outside the room as they heard his cries.

"Ace?" you called to him, who held you even tighter in his arms. "I think I have an idea for the name. Can you see if we can use it?"

You whispered in his ear, making Marco curious. Ace delicately left behind you, who was holding the little baby and ignoring the blood that still stained his hands, he left the ship in search of a specific person. A few minutes later, you saw your beloved enter the room again, accompanied by your dad.

"Can I take that as a yes?" you saw Whitebeard bend down to get closer to the baby. "Meet your grandson, Alev Edward Newgate."

If you were spoiled during your pregnancy by Ace, you couldn't imagine what it would be like with little Alev. The child was never alone - or at least walking on two feet. There was always one of his uncles who could pick him up and carry him around the ship. Marco, who called himself the child's uncle and godfather even though he had not been baptized, had already lost count of how many times he had to redo the serums and medicines he applied to Whitebeard, since Alev - with his grandfather's permission, used the height difference to make it like a little personal slide.

And Ace, who was completely in love with the little piece of love you two had brought to the world, even when he messed up.

"Papa!" you and Ace, who were playing cards with other friends, heard the child scream and a laugh soon after. You already lowered your deck knowing that it anticipated some new prank.

"What is it Alev?" Ace spoke loudly so the boy could hear him and know where he was.

You don't know how your blood pressure didn't drop or how Ace didn't have a heart attack when he saw the child in your not-so-calm and serene days coming twirling a burning cloth in one hand and in the other a lighter that only God should know where he found.

"Look papa, I can control fire just like you!" the boy rolled the cloth and you prepared to move forward and take it from him, but you were anticipated by Ace, who placed his hand exactly where the cloth would hit Alev's freckled face.

"You can't do that, ever again." Ace raised his voice, taking the cloth that was half ash and the lighter from the boy. "You are crazy?"

"But daddy, I want to be like you."

"That doesn't mean setting everything on fire, my little flame." you warned and saw the child threaten to cry. Ace noticed immediately, regretting the little scream.

"I can't believe you're such a crybaby." Ace said in a teasing tone, throwing the boy over his shoulder. "Does your grandfather know about this? He won't like having a crybaby pirate at all."

"No daddy, I already stopped, I already stopped." you heard your son mumble in the distance, drying his tears. "I just wanted to be cool like you."

"My son, you are the coolest kid ever." Ace let Alev slip out of his arms and hugged him, stopping him from reaching the ground. "You know I love you very much, don't you?"

"I love you sooooo much more daddy."

#fiction #one piece #reader insert #no use of y/n #requests open #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x you #luffy x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #ace x you #requested

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iovesia · 7 months

Text

❛⠀TAKE MY BREATH AWAY.

kinktober 2023. — day one.

synopsis. a simple job as a counselor at your local summer camp becomes more than what you bargained for when bodies start dropping.

✶⠀ ׅ⠀ ࣪⠀warnings. slasher!john wick 𝑥 f!reader — extreme dub-con. fuck or die. murder. gore. doggy position. machetes. size kink. major character death. friday the 13th au. 1.5k words.

josie's little note. slutty slasher szn's officially begun! i'm vv excited to share this with you guys! had to postpone this fic for a hot second— but hope you enjoy ♡🔪 !!

THE CHILDREN’S SCREAMING ECHOED THROUGH YOUR BRAIN.

You groaned, rubbing your temples tiredly as the sun beamed down on you. Your terribly short camp counsellor uniform allowed the rays to gently warm your skin, as you adjusted the sun glasses on your face. It was a nauseatingly hot summer’s day in July— and the joyus screams of the campers festered a migraine.

“Hey, don’t run!” You call out to the two little girls whose feet padded alongside the lake bend. The two pigtailed wearing campers merely giggle at your expense, before continuing to run down to the dock filled with other campers.

Lifeguard duty was truly your least favourite shift. You’d give anything to trade places with Michela’s aerobics group or Jake’s hiking activity. Anything to get out of this unbearable July sun. Sweat beads spouted on your forehead as you weaky fanned yourself with today’s schedule.

A sudden loud burst snaps you from your sweaty daze as you jump up in surprise. Your eyes catch the sight of two older kids and a sad, torn inflatable toy. The plastic swims along the lake as the two boys look awkwardly at you.

“Are you kidding me?!” you groan, irritation burning on your skin along with the heat. Pulling your red shades back down, you make your way down to the dingy, old shack near the docks. A dusty little storage unit that your camp director keeps putting off on rebuilding. You let out a cough when the cloud of dust hits your face. The door damn near tears off from its weak, copper hinge.

“I’m so not doing this gig again,” you mumble bitterly as you enter. The soft rays of sunshine in through the cracked window as you search for a replacement inflatable. The dusty plastic toy catches your eye on the bottom shelf, and as you lean down to grab it—

Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

The hoarse quiet whisper that’s been haunting you for the last two weeks of summer. The whisper that echoed in your ears, and sent the cool breeze down your spine. The whisper that had a pair of eyes watching you.

YOU RAN.

Your worn out converse hit the bark of the forest, the tree branches slapping roughly against you as you hurry through the dark outdoors. The stain of Michela’s blood on your face, and the stench of it that burned your nostrils boiled bile in your throat.

Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

That whisper rings through the forest, along with the sound of metal slashing and a masculine scream… then a loud thud. Your friends were being slaughtered left right and centre. The memories of Jake’s decapitated head rolling towards you made you want to hurl, scream and cry all at once. But, for now you just ran. Ran from the 6’1, machete wielding maniac.

You heard the folk stories, and the legends of John Wick— the boogeyman. What was supposed to be one of Brad’s stupid stories to scare the boys and girls at camp, became your unfortunate reality.

Stupidly, you run onto the docks, leaving you in the wide open. For a moment, all goes quiet. You pant loudly and weakly, sobs wracking your chest as you look around tearfully for any means of escape.

Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

Creak.

A heavy footstep rests on the dock. Followed by another.. And then another.

You’re too terrified to turn around— or too slow to do anything as a large hand snatches your shoulder, and spins you around to face the inevitable. Letting out a blood curdling scream when you come face to face with your worst nightmare. John.

The brutish giant who towered over you, wearing what appears to be a leather coat and jeans— all gloriously painted with the blood and guts of your fellow counsellors. He glared at you coldly, his hand damn near pushing you back off the dock and into the murky waters. You watch frozen in fear as his blood covered hand lifts his machete, preparing you for your demise.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” You sob desperately, the moonlight bouncing off the machete and shining onto your face as John holds you over the ledge of the dock. “Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything!”

John stares at you blankly, his firm hand still gripping tightly onto your top. Time freezes for what feels like ages before he lifts you back up off the ledge. He quirks his brow, his facial expression speaking for himself.

“Anything, please, just don’t kill me,” you beg desperately. John’s eyes trail from your puffy red face, past your breathing neck, to your breasts that rose up and down with each shaky breath. The colour drains from your face when you follow his eyes that scan your body hungrily. Wordlessly, you knew. John’s quick in his movements to push your helpless body down to the dock floor.

A loud wooden crack rings out and pain blooms in your side as your head bangs against the docks. Your delicate face scratched along the rough wood of the docks as John’s machete slices cleanly up the pant-leg of your shorts. The bloodied metal snags at your underwear as well as the flimsy material falls off your body and you gasp at the sudden cold wind hiding your rear and cunt. Humiliating tears brim your eyes when John’s grimy hands spread you apart, his knee pushing yours further out— almost putting you on display.

John’s low breathing reverberates in your ears and you hear the glob of spit forming between his lips as it stretches down, hitting your cold skin. Your body trembles as John’s fingers slide the spit in between your folds, and rip a gasp from your throat as he plunges his index and pointer finger into your small hole.

“Shit— fuck—” you hiss under your breath.

John simply hums at your reaction, his face remains stoic. If he’s enjoying your reactions, he’s not showing it. He slides his fingers in and out of your cunt, his one act of mercy to prepare you for his final kill. Your dignity. The squelching of your wet cunt plays over the sound of crickets and the lake moving. His agonisingly slow movements serve to prolong this tortuous and depraved experience. You whimper when John’s hands disappear, leaving your empty cunt to clench the air.

Ziiiipppp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat as you hear John’s belt buckle hit the floor. His large hand suddenly presses your head down harder against the wooden dock, the faint splinters digging into your soft cheeks. Tears well in your eyes, and you internally pray to the souls of your dead colleagues for forgiveness for what’s about to happen. Just as you try to lift your head up against his hand, your eyes meet your reflection as the machete violently stabs into the dock… Right next to your head.

“Don’t.”

He says firmly, sending chills down your spine. You whimper, like a little lamb to the slaughter. John’s hand returns to your head, his grip tighter as he holds you down. The head of his thick tip teasingly slides up and down between your wet folds. His other hand holds tightly onto the fat of your waist, dirty nails digging into your soft skin as his fat cock plunges slowly into your cunt.

His cock just hit so deep, and your small pussy is stretched to the brim. A choked sob dies in your throat as John’s eyes grow half-lidded, and a quiet sigh escapes from him. Your warm cunt engulfed him so well as he gradually moved his hips back and forth. His mushroom tip kissed your cervix, you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

You whimpered and sobbed, your lower lip in between your pearly white teeth as you bite down. The maroon copper taste fills your mouth with John’s unrelenting thrusts only getting faster. As a fruitless attempt to dry your tears up, you squeeze your eyes closed. John’s cock keeps rhythmically moving in and out of your walls, using your warm body like a ragdoll. Hot tears slide down your face, and John’s sweat hits your back, his dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes never left the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

Something stirred in your lower belly, and your toes curled in your converse shoes as guilt swam in your chest. You opened your legs, and spread your cunt for the assailant who murdered your friends.. and you were enjoying it.

John’s hold on your body grew harder, when his thrusts got faster and faster. Through short huffs and tight grips, you could tell he was close. Suddenly, you felt John spurt a thick rope inside of you, filling your exhausted cunt to the brim with his seed. The pants and sobs fall from your mouth as your body collapses against the dock. The pleasure quickly be replaced with shame and horror, as John stands up, towering over your frame.

You wince at the sharp sound of the machete being pulled from the docks. Your eyes follow his every move as his bloodied hand holds the handle of the machete, lifting it above his head, his dark eyes squint at you. Your eyes widen.

“No.. No, no, wait!”

Fin.

— taglist. @alwaysinblck @sickzmbie @hearteyedbambi @worldsgreatestsinner @rizunaur @cillivnz @beansricejc @97keanu @the-trash-site @keanuthot @sulibbyyyyy @20s7nn @aerangi @alyssagames01 @prongsio @starrgurl46 @nogr4vity

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#𓂃 josie's kinktober ˚ ₊ ‧#john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick imagine #john wick smut #kinktober

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trulybetty · 8 months

Text

Sick Day

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 1,581 Warnings: Pure fluff, talk of not feeling well, cooking, caretaking, and on brand Marcus Pike. Summary: Marcus never cancels dates, and if he does it usually comes with his own brand of romantic gestures to make up for it. So when he doesn't, you know something isn't quite right. AO3: Linked

A/N: It's been a week - but this had been sitting in my WIP folder unfinished for a while and this prompted me to finish this piece of pure fluff.

Sick Day.

Marcus was not accustomed to feeling helpless. Being weak or vulnerable was not part of his persona, not part of what made Marcus Pike who he was.

His sickness had come on suddenly, a relentless fever accompanied by a deep, hacking cough. Marcus was not one to fall ill often, and when he did, he had always soldiered through, never allowing weakness to dictate his schedule. But this was different; this was not something he could ignore. His body was not cooperating, and all his attempts to carry on were futile.

The fever alone had struck with a vengeance. His body ached, his throat was on fire, and even the faintest hint of light sent his head spinning into oblivion. A normally robust Marcus was reduced to a shivering mess, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, his mind clouded by the relentless throb of a migraine.

And yet, the real disquiet lay not in his physical discomfort but in a new and unexpected vulnerability. The one person he sought to impress, care for, and be strong for, was now seeing him at his weakest.

You.

From the early days of your relationship, Marcus had been the one to shower you with romantic gestures, much to your chagrin at times. Breakfasts in bed, spontaneous day trips, surprise gifts — he'd done it all. It was how he'd always been, it was how past relationships had dictated how he should operate to ensure that his love interest remained enamoured, entranced and with him.

But you were different.

You didn't expect anything from him. You didn't need grand gestures or elaborate displays of affection. Your love was calm, steady, and unconditional. It was a love that sought no repayment, demanded no proof, and required no theatrics.

And it was something Marcus had never experienced before.

He had sent you a text message that he had to skip your date night and you’d looked at your phone warily. The two of you had been together for quite some time now and this was not his usual MO. Marcus Pike didn’t just cancel dates, you had cancelled dates sure, but never Marcus without a flurry of rearranged reservations or a bouquet of flowers at your door.

So when you showed up at his doorstep on your way to work, your eyes wide with concern with a bag full of remedies, Marcus was utterly unprepared. Especially when you said you were going to call in to work and take the day off when you realized how sick he was. The truth was, no one had ever taken a day off work to care for him. No one had ever put him first in quite the same way.

Once inside Marcus's apartment, the evidence of his illness was palpable. The usually immaculate space was in mild disarray, evidence of his discomfort. Marcus was bundled on the couch, looking both vulnerable and endearing, his face flushed and his eyes glazed.

He had tried to protest, to insist that he was fine, that you didn't need to trouble yourself. But the words had come out slurred, his voice weak and barely above a whisper.

“You look awful,” you'd said, your intention sympathetic, as you brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead.

Your hand had felt cool and soothing against his fevered skin and he leant into it, his eyes closed.

“It’s okay.” he tried to assure you.

You laughed at his failed attempt to convince you, “It’s not okay, for starters your voice sounds terrible.”

“Sounds worse than it is.” he gave you what he thought was an unabashed smile, but came out crooked and tired.

You just stared at him incredulously, “You just almost coughed up a lung.”

“I’m fine.” he tried to sit up but the sudden movement caused him to double over in a fit of coughing.

You placed the back of your hand against his forehead, “Case in point. You’re not fine Marcus, you’re burning up.”

“It’s just a cold,” he insisted.

“Marcus, you need to rest,” you'd chided, your tone gentle but firm as you led him to his bedroom. “I'm here now. Let me take care of you, please.”

And so you did.

The hours turned into a day, and then another, your presence a constant. You sat at his kitchen table, replying to emails and calls between checking his fever and ensuring he took his medication. When he asked you to stay overnight that first night you’d obliged his ask in his vulnerable state. So you’d watched movies with him, choosing his favourites, even though he’d drifted in and out of sleep throughout.

It was three days longer than the original one you planned on staying when he was looking and feeling more like himself. You were both in the kitchen, you preparing dinner, while he watched on.

“So where did you learn how to make this?” Marcus asked, fatigue still lingering as he leaned on the countertop to rest his head in his hand. He watched diligently as you added ingredients to the ceramic pot atop the stovetop. The smell of the simmering food was already permeating the apartment making your mouth water.

It was one of, if not your number one comfort meal. You’d experienced it at a tiny restaurant years ago in a quiet city off the main drag of flashy restaurants and bars. The only good things to come of a past failed date, one whose name now you couldn’t recall even if you tried. While the relationship hadn’t gone anywhere you’d gone back repeatedly to the small establishment time and time again and learned how to make it yourself.

“Want a taste?” you asked him, offering a spoon laden with a sample to taste. He watched in amusement as you blew on it to cool it down, “Here you go, try.”

Marcus tentatively tasted the food and felt a sting on his tongue from the heat, but smiled at the ability to finally be able to taste something, “My taste buds may not be quite back up to par,” he said, “but this, this is delicious.”

You grinned, “Good, it means you’re getting better.”

Marcus pulled himself away from the counter and stepped up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Even now, while he was slowly recovering, this simple embrace made your heart swell with affection.

“You've really been incredible these past few days,” Marcus murmured, his voice still hoarse. “I can't even begin to express how grateful I am. I'm not used to... this, you know? Being taken care of.”

You gave him a gentle smile, as you dried your hands off with a kitchen towel and lowered the heat on the pot.

You twisted around in his arms to face him, tucking a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “It was my pleasure, Marcus,” you said with a smile.

He was silent for a moment, taking in what you said. That one sentence soothing to years of a self-imposed belief that he should always be the caretaker, the provider. “Thank you,” he spoke softly.

“Since you're feeling much better now, I’d better think about getting back to my place,” you said, puncturing the comfortable quiet of the room. You were trying to sound casual, but it was obvious that your presence wasn’t intended to be a long-term thing; Marcus understood this, yet he still felt a twinge of sadness.

“But it's Friday,” he retorted, his voice carrying the softest note of protest. “Maybe you could stay for the weekend? Now that I'm feeling better, I can find a way to thank you properly.” A mischievous glint shone in Marcus's eyes as he smiled slowly. “Since you’ve been playing nurse so well, maybe it’s time for the patient to return the favour and take care of you?” he finished, his voice dropping into a suggestive tone, making the implication all but transparent.

But before he could elaborate, his words were interrupted by a sudden coughing fit. The rough, barking sound filled the apartment, and Marcus grimaced as he cleared his throat. Covering his mouth with his forearm, he tried to suppress another cough as he failed to stop the onslaught of another fit.

You let out a loud and throaty laugh as you filled Marcus a glass of water. “Okay, maybe we'll hold off on the whole nurse-and-patient role-play for now.”

Marcus joined in, his laughter tinged with a hint of self-deprecation once he’d finished with the water you'd poured him. “Maybe you're right. But the offer to stay the weekend still stands.”

These days, such as now, in small moments of reflection Marcus was able to step back and see his previous relationships a little more clearly. They had felt solid at the time, and had seemed like they were built on a foundation of mutual understanding and love, but looking back he could tell that the foundation was merely a house of cards. Meaning one wrong move or unmet expectation and it all would have come crashing down on unrealistic standards he’d set himself.

But with you, it was different.

While Marcus was off in his own world, you returned your attention to the meal cooking on the stove. “Dinner will be ready soon. What do you think about watching a movie while we eat? You choose,” you asked..

Marcus, snapping out of his thoughts, smiled warmly. “I think that sounds perfect,” he replied.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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cinnajun · 8 months

Text

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: bro code | kgv

summary | it’s not exactly a good idea to date your best friend’s ex. and, as of right now, you’ve confirmed that the same sentiment applies to dating your best friend’s ex’s best friend, too.

genre | kim gyuvin x fem!reader, university!au, situationship

warnings | alcohol, breaking the bro code :/, i DONT ship ricky and hiyyih she is just a character.

wc | 1.9k

a/n: originally this was a “situationships with zb1” post but then i realized i just wanted to write this so here it is

ft kep1 hiyyih, youngeun, hikaru, people i made up

YOU HATE SHEN RICKY with your entire being. When you see him, your blood boils and steam comes out of your ears. When you hear his voice, your eardrums bleed and you get the worst migraine imaginable. When you hear about him, you complain for hours on end.

Once upon a time, you hated Kim Gyuvin too. He was guilty by association; if Ricky was that terrible to Hiyyih, there was no way Gyuvin wasn’t terrible either. You’d only met him once before Ricky and Hiyyih’s relationship took a turn for the worse—they’d been attempting to “merge friend groups,” in her words. He’d been awkward most of the time, cracking a joke or two when it seemed right and offering his two cents from time to time.

Back when Ricky wasn’t your mortal enemy, you felt many ways about Kim Gyuvin. He was tall and he was handsome, he was nice and you’d heard about how much he cared for Ricky and his other friends. The day before things went south, you’d nearly asked Hiyyih for his number.

Now, you wanted to hate him. You had to hate him.

You didn’t like admitting the fact that you didn’t hate him.

You don’t know how you got here. When you put your thinking cap on and consider what led to your fling with Kim Gyuvin, you can’t pinpoint an exact catalyst. Maybe it was the moment you met him, four months after Ricky and Hiyyih started dating. Maybe it was the moment you ran into him at a party drunk off your ass, and took all your anger towards Ricky out on him.

Maybe it was when he took you home and made sure you got there okay.

Whatever it was, now you were in possibly the worst position of your life. You’d run into the bathroom and locked the door, phone in one hand and a cup of water in the other. Your friend—perhaps an ex-friend, now—was banging on the door, demanding you come out and explain yourself.

For the past five months, you’ve done an outstanding job at sneaking around with Gyuvin. From getting caught in traffic from an accident when you really wanted Dominoes, to going to visit your parents, you had a mountain of excuses that all covered up every escapade you had. Both your friends and his were none the wiser to your schemes, and you’d been completely okay with that.

“I can’t believe you’re dating Kim Gyuvin!”

“I’m not dating Kim Gyuvin!” you yelled back, confident in your announcement because it wasn’t a lie. Sure, maybe you’d kissed him a few times or taken a couple of romantic walks with him, but you’d avoided ever defining your relationship in fear of this exact situation. And because of the raging guilt you both felt for having any feelings for the other.

Minju kept banging on the door and you hurriedly put your cup down on the bathroom counter, searching for your phone in your pockets. Once you found it, you opened your messages app with so much fervor that you could’ve set the screen on fire.

You scrolled through your messages, scanning over everyone who could possibly save you. Hiyyih probably wouldn’t talk to you for a week, but Youngeun and Hikaru wouldn’t drop you over this—hopefully. You sent them both a text, a hurried cry for help as Minju continued shaking the doorknob.

“Talk to me when you’re sober!” you called out, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Subconsciously, your knee began to bounce up and down, and you resisted the urge to chew your fingers off as you waited for Hikaru or Youngeun to reply.

“How could you do this, [First]?” a new voice rang out, and you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong—well, you did, but there was no way it was wrong enough to warrant this. Had you begun talking to Gyuvin while Ricky and Hiyyih had been dating, would they still be treating you like this? You were unsure of the answer.

Nevertheless, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t regret your time spent with Gyuvin. He was kind, nicer than anyone you’d ever dated, and he seemed to care about you. He asked how your day was and listened intently as you described whatever you had done. He held you when you cried and shared in your joy when you were happy.

He was good to you. Was that such a crime?

Five minutes passed, and both Hikaru and Youngeun hadn’t replied. Minju and her friend, who you couldn’t identify from their voice alone, still screamed at you from outside the door. They’d stopped the banging, but every few seconds they’d jiggle the doorknob as if you’d unlock the door.

Desperation overtook you, and you felt as though you had no choice at this point. You were stuck in your mind, wondering why Hiyyih was letting people you barely knew harass you into explaining yourself for something that wasn’t any of their business.

So, in your panic, you called Gyuvin. You had his number memorized, mostly because you’d mutually agreed not to save each other into your phones to avoid any suspicion, so it took less than 5 seconds to have the dialtone filling your ear.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings and he answered, and you practically heard the smile in his voice. “My dearest, darling [First],” he said, a slight sing-song tone to his voice. “Whatever can I do for you?”

“Open the goddamn door!” Minju yelled, a lot louder than she’d been yelling before. She jiggled the doorknob again, and you flinched, letting out another big sigh.

“What’s going on?”

“Please come pick me up,” you said in a hushed tone, not wanting to explain everything over the phone. “I’ll text you my address. I’m desperate. Please.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Are you at Hiyyih’s? I can be there in five.”

How he knew where Hiyyih lived, you didn’t know, but you were glad he did. “Yeah, I am. Please hurry. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I’m on my way.”

You hung up the phone, not letting him say anything else. Minju and her accomplice kept banging on the door, but for a few moments, they stopped. You heard another voice in the hall, Yeseo’s, but struggled to make out what she was saying—something about how they could yell at you another time, and that Hiyyih needed their support.

You felt like a criminal. Maybe you deserve to feel like a criminal.

All you knew was that Gyuvin made you happy, and that, sometimes, maybe it was worth prioritizing your happiness over other people’s comfort. At the same time, you felt like your friends should always be more important than a boy, and that losing your years of friendship with them wasn’t worth a single man.

Minju and the anonymous ‘other’ were pulled away, leaving you to sit in silence. It was a loud and uncomfortable quiet, the type that assaulted your ears and your mind the longer you sat in it—you felt miserable. Everything about this was miserable.

Yesterday, you talked to Gyuvin about this exact situation. You’d been on the phone with him, twiddling your thumbs as you stared at your bedroom ceiling. “What do you think would happen?” you asked, counting the random divots above you. “If Ricky and Hiyyih found out.”

Gyuvin had groaned, and you listened to him turn over in his bed, which sounded like sheets crumpling and fabric moving. “I don’t even want to think about it. I think it would be worse for you.”

“Well, I guess they can’t find out about anything, because we aren’t anything,” you replied, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile. “Technically. We just hang out from time to time.”

“Yeah, just friends. Nothing more. You’re like Eumppapa’s dog walker.”

How ironic your conversation had been. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up immediately, feeling a terrible sense of relief wash over you. Your knight in shining armor, simultaneously the big bad dragon, had come to rescue you from your tower.

You ripped the window open, cringing at the beeping sound that echoed through the house as a result. Hiyyih’s parent’s security system was a good thing most of the time, but, at times like this, it was a bad thing. Nevertheless, you continued your escape, hopping out of the bathroom window and running towards Gyuvin’s parked car.

By the time you made it to the correct side of the car, Hiyyih was already emerging onto the front lawn, yelling for you not to leave. You didn’t listen, ripping the passenger door open and climbing in. Gyuvin didn’t wait for you to put your seatbelt on, speeding off into the night.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you breathed out, panickedly putting on your seatbelt. “I promise. It was an accident. I got careless.”

“I don’t care about who knows and who doesn’t,” he said, glancing at you. He took your hand into his, resting it on the center console. “I care about what in the world was happening when you called. Why were they banging on the door? What in the world elicits that kind of reaction?”

“Sneaking around with the best friend of your best friend’s ex,” you sighed, looking out the window. “I just feel awful. I don’t know why. This is awful.”

Gyuvin stayed quiet for a moment, and you suddenly became aware of the quiet classical music coming from the radio. He must’ve been in the car with Zhang Hao before he came to rescue you—and the fact that you recognized that made you feel even more guilty.

“It’s the bro-code morality,” he finally answered, squeezing your hand. You looked over at him, somewhat confused. “You know. Not really the best etiquette to date your friend’s ex, and I guess it applies to your friend’s ex’s best friend, too. I feel it sometimes.”

“But I’m happy. And I think you’re happy. I don’t want to lose that.”

“I am happy, and you won’t. We’ll deal with it, the fallout and everything,” Gyuvin said. You were drowning in anxiety and wanted nothing more than to drown in your bed. “It’s Ricky’s fault for being a dickwad in the first place, not mine. And, if the time Hiyyih spent with him meant anything, she’ll at least know that I’m not a bad person.”

“I hope.”

You pulled up to a red light, and Gyuvin looked over at you. He looked tired, and you realized he was wearing his pajamas, meaning he’d probably gotten out of bed to come save you. That made you feel even more guilty and warm and fuzzy at the same time. “And we might need to stop avoiding the question we’ve been ignoring for nearly half a year.”

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin x reader #gyuvin fluff #gyuvin oneshots #gyuvin imagines #gyuvin scenarios

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munsooooon · 2 months

Text

when you know, you know.

rated g | 2, 086 words | tags: Additional Tags: Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Pet Names, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers.

Note: I apologize for any mistake, english is my second language. this is my first Steddie fanfic published and my first fanfic in english. I hope you enjoy it, let me know if there any mistake...

🌟🌟🌟

Steve was happy to have someone to help him with the day to day tasks, he had always been independent (although there was no other option for him really) and he enjoyed being that person who was always there for his friends and who helped them with their day to day life, it made him really happy and made him feel useful. Of course Robin helped him a lot too, but for some reason, when he called Eddie for help it was different, it felt different and sent shivers down his spine.

"Hello?"

"Hello Eds." Steve whispered, doing things as simple as calling him on the phone felt truly intimate. Steve could swear Eddie was smiling.

‘’Stevie! To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice so early, my highness?’’

Steve smiled at the nickname, he hated being remembered as King Steve, but he loved when Eddie called him that, because he loved when he said "my." He got as close as he could to the clock on the wall so he could see the time....

‘’Eds, it's 1:00 PM’’

‘’See? I told you I got up early, actually I should sleep until 3, it's my rest day.’’ Eddie smiled.

‘’Now that you remember it, it makes me feel terrible because I was going to ask you a favor.’’

‘’And I will tell you: Of course, Stevie.’’

‘’No, Eddie, it's…’’

"Ah ah ah," Eddie interrupted, "don't try to convince me because you won't succeed. What can I do for you, darling?"

‘’Eddie, but…’’

‘’Honey, I want to take care of you, what do you need?’’ Eddie responded softly.

“Thanks Eds,” Steve whispered with a slight, “Can you pick up my migraine medication? The pharmacy closes at 5 and my shift ends at 7, I forgot that I had to go get them, the prescription is…‘’

‘’In the refrigerator.’’

Steve smiled without being able to stop.

‘’Yes, there is also money in the next drawer, please Eddie, take it.’’

‘’Okay.’’

"I'm being serious, Munson."

‘’I don't know where that drawer is.’’

‘’Eddie, if you don't take it, I'lI feel terrible. ‘’

‘’Have a nice day, pretty boy.’’

Eddie didn't even give Steve time to respond, he immediately ended the call. Either way, Steve barely managed to put the phone down, because his brain short-circuited upon hearing the older man's words.

---

‘’Eddie’’

"Don't insist, Stevie," Eddie exclaimed, "I'm a gentleman and I won't take the money."

Eddie smiled triumphantly as he saw that Steve finally gave up, he gave him a loving pat on his arm and sat on the kitchen floor of his house, Eddie sat next to him. They had spent about 15 minutes arguing with a smile on their faces for money. Although Steve felt genuinely bad for making Eddie spend money, he also felt happy to have someone who would immediately agree to go get his medicine without expecting anything in return.

In moments like this, Steve feels as if he and Eddie are building their own world that only the two of them can inhabit, together. Steve feels loved and it has taken him a little time to process that feeling, but for the first time in his life he is certain that love exists. Eddie seems to understand that Steve is not used to this, but he has allowed him to go at his own pace, and has given him a safe space to find himself, to feel what is happening between them.

It is worth mentioning that Steve went into complete panic when he realized that friendship with Eddie was not just friendship, curiously and considering the person he had been just three years ago, it did not scare him so much to know that he was falling in love with a boy, he was actually scared of not knowing what to do about it, it was the first time he felt genuinely loved. No move he had used in the past for his conquests seemed good enough. Steve found at age 20 that he had no idea what to do when you were truly in love, he had adored Nancy romantically and knew that Nancy adored him and was attracted to him, many people were attracted to him but had never received what Eddie gave him, they didn't talk about it but Steve was certain that they belonged to each other, and although he didn't know exactly what to say, he knew that the time to talk about it was getting closer and closer.

Meanwhile he can only say...

‘’Thank you’’

For accepting me, for loving me, for waiting for me.

“It's a pleasure” Eddie says with genuine sincerity, taking Steve's hand in his and placing a small kiss.

Eddie's ideal response made him smile, Steve was obviously thanking him for picking up his medications but also for being patient with him. Steve rested his head on Eddie's shoulder, who smiled when he felt it.

"By the way," Steve whispered without breaking away, "I have something for you."

“Mm huh?” Eddie exclaimed, looking straight into his eyes, they were so close. Steve could see how his eyes shined just for him, it physically hurt him to have to separate from him when he had those beautiful eyes fixed completely on him.

"Yes" Steve whispered, lost in his eyes.

“What do you have for me, darling?” Eddie whispered as he hugged him.

Steve smiled as if he were hiding a mischief, got up and took Eddie's hand to walk together to the refrigerator, Eddie rested his back on the kitchen counter, his little eyes reflected the curiosity he was feeling, Steve opened the refrigerator, pulling out the surprise...

“Ice cream?” Eddie asked.

‘’Do you remember the vanilla ice cream you bought on Saturday when we went to breakfast?’’

“The best ice cream in the universe?” Eddie asked excitedly, Steve nodded “God, I loved that ice cream”

"Well, I bought you this bottle..." Steve answered, Eddie looked at him very excitedly, "and maybe three others that are in the refrigerator."

Eddie looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.

‘’But the waitress didn't want to tell me the name!’’

"Yesterday I came back alone, she even told me where to buy it," Steve smiled. "No one can resist my charm!"

"Surely not, dear." Eddie said with a huge smile. “You flirted and tricked a girl just so I could have my ice cream?”

“It sounds awful when you say it like that“ Steve exclaimed “Besides, you loved the ice cream”

Eddie let out a genuine, happy laugh, filled with pure adoration, and picked up Steve who immediately wrapped his arms around his neck for support.

‘’What did you say to her?’’ Eddie said.challenging him, looking into his eyes with a smile, Steve felt his cheeks heat up.

‘’Hi, I'm Steve!’’ Steve said, faking his own voice. ‘’Oh! I was just looking for you, by the way, your hair looks very nice like that’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’ Eddie exclaimed, raising an eyebrow, taking Steve’s words as if they were meant for him.

"Mmm huh," said Steve, "last Saturday I came with my best friend, he loved the vanilla ice cream, Oh! don't worry babe. I understand that you couldn't tell him because it's a company secret but maybe you could tell me, his birthday is on Tuesday and I would like to serve it at his birthday party. I don't want to cause you problems but oh, I would love to be a Good boy for my man, my best friend.

Steve was exaggerating his performance but Eddie was completely lost, he couldn't help his eyes drifting to the other boy's lips when he emphasized being a good boy .

‘’And she gave it to you so easily?’’ Eddie smiled.

‘’Of course, nothing moves more than a boy being sweet for his best friend. ’’ He smiled proudly.

"Sure, you're a great friend, my best homie."

Steve laughed outrageously, Eddie imitated him and lowered him to the floor. Steve scooped up some ice cream and gave it to Eddie to try, who gushed about his love for ice cream. Steve's mouth watered, his lips were open, the sounds Eddie made flooded his entire body and brain.

"God, Steve! You're truly the best, I don't deserve you, you got ice cream just because I mentioned that I loved it," he exclaimed with emotion, "thank you so much, baby."

Steve smiled with a sweet blush on his cheeks, he took care of continuing to feed them both with the ice cream, they shared a spoon and from time to time Eddie smeared ice cream on his face, the tension in the air was evident, the two of them were so deep into the space of the other. The metalhead looked destroyed and proud every time he saw the delicious, white ice cream on Steve's face, it seemed that he was engraving that image of Steve deep inside his mind. Steve could tell Eddie was holding back from doing something else, and Steve wanted that badly, he wanted Eddie to lick every bit of ice cream off his face, but, instead he just smiled at him with complicity, shyness and a blush on his cheeks.

They eventually ended up back on the floor sharing the ice cream and a spoon.

"I've been meaning to ask for a while,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve looked at him. “What does the “J” mean?"

Steve looked at him confused.

"In your prescription, it said Steve J. Harrington."

"Oh, that's my name," Steve answered, concentrating on the ice cream. "Steven Joseph Harrington."

Steve stopped eating when he felt Eddie staring at him with genuine surprise, it seemed like he was even having a hard time breathing. He was always so expressive, especially with his eyes but at that moment he was surprised like he rarely was.

"Are you kidding?" Eddie asked, almost holding his breath.

"No," Steve responded with visible confusion and some anxiety.

"Stevie"

Eddie took him by the face and covered his cheeks, his forehead and his nose with small sweet and noisy kisses.Steve dropped the spoon and without being able to stop himself he began to laugh softly. It was the first time Eddie had kissed him so many times and with so much enthusiasm.

"What's wrong, Eds?"

"Happens that I love you and that we were fucking destined, God." Eddie exclaimed with emotion, Steve looked at him surprised, that was a confession, it was the first time he had said those words to him "And It's my name too"

Steve still hadn't processed that Eddie had told him ‘’I love you’’ for the first time, casually in his kitchen while eating ice cream, and now he had to process that he shared his name with the boy he loved.

"What?" Steve exclaimed, surprised.

"I swear on my guitar," said Eddie, "Edward Joseph Munson, I never thought it rhymed, nice to meet you."

Steve laughed hysterically.

"Steven Joseph Harrington, mine doesn't rhyme either." Steve responded, "the pleasure is mine."

Eddie took his hand ‘’What are the possibilities? I mean, we're only children from marriages that probably never loved each other, we have matching scars and matching names!’’

Before he could think about it too much, Steve kissed him. Their teeth clashed a little because it had been unexpected, but Eddie quickly knew how to keep up, Steve was sure that kissing him was the best decision he had ever made, he felt like all the pieces finally fit together, he was feeling like he was breathing properly for the first time in his life, which was ironic because Eddie was stealing all his air, Steve wanted to take everything that was within his reach, with his hands he ran over the other boy's face and hair, at times he traveled to his back and to his waist. After a few seconds he was sitting on the lap of the other boy who received him and held him firmly.

Steve Harrington had never felt so powerful before, kissing a boy felt powerful.

"I love you too, by the way," Steve smiled close to his lips, looking into his eyes. "Thank you for waiting for me."

"Always."

Steve smiled because he felt free and light, loving Eddie felt easy like eat vanilla ice cream. He couldn't believe that the right moment had arrived when he least expected it, he was simply certain at that moment that when you are with the love of your life, you know it.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington

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americas1suiteheart · 6 months

Text

Sick Days

[Lemon and Tangerine x GN! Reader (Platonic) ]

[Summary; You've worked with the twins for years now, and whilst they are sharp and get things done rather well, they do have a tendancy to constantly get eachother, including you, sick.]

[Notes; Sorry I haven't been very active. I promise I'll get to those asks soon but this popped into my head and I just really needed to write a full fic.]

[Warnings; Some cursing and mentions of taking over the counter medicine.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

"Achoo!"

"Bloody fuckin'-hell mate, cover your fuckin' mouth when you sneeze," Tangerine scoffs.

The three of you have been sick since your last mission in Bolivia, you're assuming that one of the twins got coughed on or something, because as always--they were the first to get ill.

And just as always, you were the ones to take care of them at first until you finally got ill.

The first week was horrible.

Tangerine's constant bitching and moaning about how he wanted to be back on missions but still complaining about how he felt like shit, that his nose and body hurt, how his throat was sore, and how terrible of a headache he had. Then he would be upset that Lemon was sitting down bundled up on the couch watching Thomas and Friends and how he wouldn't let Tangerine watch his West Ham game on the television.

Lemon wasn't as bad as Tangerine when it came to getting sick though. Lemon only complained once or twice, every now and then but it wasn't constant. Lemon would only ask if you could bring him a pot of tea if you weren't too busy and maybe some blankets. He was content and hell, he'd even admit happy that he didn't have to go on missions for a few weeks.

And then you got sick.

So now its just been constant sneezing, coughing, sniffling, and groaning. The amount of tissues and tea the three of you have been going through is insane, and you're still the one doing medicine runs.

"Piss off mate, I'll do whatever the fuck I want," Lemon says after blowing his nose.

"If either one of you bicker and babble to eachother again I will personally shoot the both of you in the face," You groan.

You hear a grumble and mutter from Tangerine but don't bother with him because it'll only worsen your already terrible migraine.

You walk to the kitchen, grabbing your favourite mug along with some clove and ginger tea, popping the teabag in and pouring the hot water you had just boiled over it into the mug.

"You did it wrong," Tangerine says, a look of annoyance on his face.

"I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit Tan. If you want it done right then you make it yourself you prick," You bite back, proceeding to the living area.

You walk to the couch Lemon was sitting on, one of his legs taking up the whole couch.

Once he looks away from the television and sees you, he removes his leg and opens up the blankets he was under, inviting you to sit with him in his cozy spot, to which you gladly accept.

You sit comfortably next to Lemon, handing him your mug so he can set it down on the tissue covered side table. I'll have to clean that up later, you thought to yourself.

"Feeling any better, y/n?" Lemon asks.

"Sort of. I've still got a god awful headache and my nose is still runny, but its better than I was a couple days ago so the medicine is working at least. How about you?"

"I'm still stuffy but its beginning to slow down now, I'm glad this bloody thing is starting to bug off already," Lemon replies.

"It's my turn on the telly, let me watch th- Achoo! Fuckin' hell!" Tangerine says, a twinge of annoyance in his voice as he complains like a child.

You and Lemon look at eachother, sighing and deciding to let Tangerine watch his game so he stops whining.

"Fine, but only if you promise to stop bitching, okay?" You say, handing Tangerine the television remote and scooting closer to Lemon to make room for him to sit with you two.

"Hey Tan, who's playing West Ham?" Lemon asks, voice still slightly hoarse.

"Man City today, tomorrow its Brentford. Why?" Tangerine responds, eyes glued to the television as he switches it to the correct channel.

Lemon looks at you with a look on his face, then back at Tangerine.

"No reason in particular,"

Manchester City just so happened to be your favourite team. The last time Man City was against West Ham, Man City won. You also happened to be watching the game with the twins that day, and let's just say that Tangerine was not happy that his team had lost and you were happy over it.

It'd been a few years since that game, but you have a feeling that Tangerine would end up being worse than the last time if Man City won again.

Sure, you like it when your team wins, but as of right now you would much prefer it if West Ham won so that way Tangerine doesn't act like a complete bellend. He's easier to anger and agitate now that he's ill.

You all sat on the couch watching the game. Cheers erupted from Tangerine and Lemon whenever West Ham got the ball or made a goal, then a groan of annoyance from Tangerine whenever Man City got the ball or made a goal.

So far it was a 3 - 3 tie with just 3 minutes left of the game, and Tangerine was getting more and more agitated every time Man City took the ball from West Ham.

Once again, Man City taking the ball, then the referee calling over a player and showing them a red card, giving West Ham a free kick for the players offense.

West Ham has the ball now, a free kick. There are 2 minutes left in the game and if they make this shot then the chances of them winning the game are high.

"Bowen takes a free kick, OH MY WORD! A DIRECT FREE KICK GIVING WEST HAM 4 POINTS TOTAL! WHAT A GOAL!"

Cheers and a few coughs come from both Lemon and Tangerine, smiles on their faces. Regardless of their heights, facial hair, voices, jobs even, they still act like children sometimes in both good and bad ways and it makes you smile.

Those last few minutes pass and the game ends, a 4 - 3 score with West Ham beating Manchester City, more cheers erupt from the twins, dopey smiles plastered onto their faces.

Tangerine gets up from the couch to go do something for a minute, leaving you and Lemon sitting on the couch together.

"That was a good game eh? Man City is pretty good too, I'm surprised we even won," Lemon says to you, covering himself back up with the blanket he was sharing with you.

"Great game really! I'm a little bummed though I will admit, but honestly one loss is better than Tan being a prick the entire day," You roll your eyes.

You get up from your cozy spot on the couch and head to the kitchen island, which had a plethora of medicines, syrups, a humidifier, and assortments of teas.

Cough syrup, Tylenol tablets, throat soothing sleepytime tea, chamomile tea, lemon scented vapor rub, allergy syrup, and a new, unopened three pack of tissue boxes.

You groan at the thought of having to drink the terrible tasting allergy and cough syrup again.

"Lem! Tan! Have you guys taken your medicines yet?" You call out to the twins, seeing as Tangerine had just returned to the living area.

Groans emit from the both of them as you give a light chuckle.

The two walk to you, tangerine grabbing the three cups for the syrups, all of your names on one of them to designate which belonged to who.

You pour the cough syrup into your cup at the 120 ml line, holding your nose as you down it to try and get rid of some of the taste, then doing the same with allergy medicine. You open the bottle of Tylenol, grabbing two of the tablets and popping them into your mouth.

You take a gulp of water from your glass then wipe your mouth.

"I'm gonna go into my room and nap, take one of these tissue boxes with you," You say, opening the pack and grabbing a box of tissues for yourself to have.

You walk to your room, opening the door and placing the tissues onto your bedside table, taking one out and blowing your nose, then tossing it into your small trashcan.

You lay in your bed, covering yourself with your blankets and sinking into your mattress.

God I hope I feel better soon.

You fall into a slumber, happy to be resting after nothing but bickering and loud cheers all day.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Sorry this took a little longer, I wasn't really planning to post it two days ago but tumblr freaked out and did it anyway even though it still wasn't finished, but it is now! I'm trying to post these fics more often and hopefully be more consistent about it. Requests are still currently closed and I'll try to get to the ones that were sent months ago.

#tangerine bullet train #lemon bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #lemon x reader #tangerine x reader #brian tyree henry #fluff #gender neutral reader #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #atj #atj x reader #brian tyree henry x reader

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