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writingouthere · 3 months

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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

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whateveriwant · 4 months

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I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

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blondieeu · 5 months

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(2)new voicemails. bakugo k.

"I miss you so bad pretty .."

you could hear the belt on his dress pants unbuckle through the phone, a pretty tune playing in the background- maybe a piano?

it's like you could already get the scene in front of you set out. bakugou in the same expensive champagne colored suit his agency always forced him to wear since "champagne was his color" and leaned onto one of the fancy agency chairs with his legs spread wide and his phone lazily smushed between is pierced ear and his shoulder.

"wish I could a jus' put you in my pocket n' brung you wimme .."

you could hear everything so clearly, from the slow zip of his pants to when you could hear the shuffle of him taking himself out of his briefs, even when he started stroking it- which you knew he was because of how quiet his voice got.

your fiance, bakugou, was on a national hero business trip to France on some top secret shit to find Japan's most wanted criminal, that was all he said he could really tell you until he finished his agonizing week overseas.

"shii-i-itt.."

his moans were getting breathy, the shuffle of his arm moving was getting a little faster and you could barely even hear the piano anymore through the damn voicemail.

" 'm sorry .. prolly woke you up out your sleep from my calls but I miss your pussy so fuckin' much .."

he slurred quietly against the phone, you could imagine his head leaning up against that chair he was slouched in as he tried his best to mimic the way you would touch him.

the way you would graze all the veins in his cock, and jerk it with both hands since it barely fit all the way in one .. but there was only so much he could copy.

nobody could ever do it the same way you do. the way your mouth covers his leaky tip and comes back up with a loud "pop!", or how skilled your fingers were when you played with his balls and jerked him at the same time.

he missed you so bad.

blondieeu xx

#bnha #mha #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #deku smut #spanish sero smut #mha fanart #pro hero au #pro hero katsuki #pro hero bakugo x reader #blondieeu

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc prompt #this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B #thanks for being my little stress ball danny #aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts #in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au #my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience #do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed #therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be #*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so #just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i #danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o #the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀

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sometimesanalice · 9 months

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Leave a Light On

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all!)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s.

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy.

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he’d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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

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limeade-l3sbian · 2 months

Text

Who was Kagney Linn Necessary?

(the gofundme for her memorial/funeral will be at the end.)

Kagney Linn Necessary was born in Harris County, Texas in 1987, and raised in St. Joseph, Missouri and in Ridgway, Pennsylvania. [x]

In her early years, she moved to California with ambitions of becoming an actress and a singer but entered work as an exotic dancer before signing with LA Direct Models, a pornographic agency. Karter entered the adult film industry in September 2008.[x]

But that wasn't the entirety of who Kagney was. At face value, the only information I could find with a quick search was the basic information above from Wikipedia. All anyone seemed to know about her was who she was when she was in the "industry." I wanted to see what I could find about her, the person. Not Kagney Linn Karter, but Kagney Linn Necessary.

I raked through interviews she had, her personal social media accounts, and any other articles that I could find just to find any little facts about her that I could.

I thought about omitting her time within the porn industry to focus solely on everything else except that. But I feel it would be tasteless to keep it out. I think it needs to be mentioned. I think it is important to show that women pulled into the porn industry are not these separate beings from any other woman with dreams. This was a 36 year old woman who was just like any other woman who was preyed upon.

Necessary released an EP, The Crossover, in 2018. In 2022, Karter released her debut album, titled The Take Over. [x] She would post clips of her singing covers of songs as well as songs from her upcoming EP on her Instagram.

In 2022, she began learning how to play the piano, even posting a video of her progress.

Necessary was also a recovering addict. In 2021, she posted about the things that helped her stay clean and how she was pleased at having a second chance at life. In an interview, she was intentionally vague about the substances she used, only referring to them as "candy" and "a little bit of everything." But with no insurance or money for rehab, she opted to detox herself at her parents home, working at their tanning salon for free in exchange for "produce."

She moved from Los Angeles to Ohio in 2019 and got involved with pole dancing fitness studios before being involved the opening of one in Akron, called Alchemy Pole Fitness. She posted many videos of herself having fun and practicing new/old moves.

In November 2023, she was posting pictures of her new house and how well it was coming together,

[their website leads to a website called Alchemy Space Studios and says that it was founded and run by a separate woman. But upon looking up the LLC for the business, Kagney is named as the registrant and she is named as the owner of the space in two separate articles.]

In 2015, Carter claimed musician Chris Brown paid her $2,500 to be his escort. She reportedly tweeted things like 'I WILL NEVER F*** A WOMAN BEATER EW DISGUSTING' and 'HE IS PURE EVIL' about Brown.

I just felt like adding that because what a queen.

From her students from the studio and friends, she was known to love animals, including her dog, Murphy, and had a deep devotion to the community she was cultivating in Ohio. She was known to be fearless and empathetic, creating her studio as a place for people to feel safe and accepted.

These were the things I could find of her from her personal accounts and the people who loved her. She wasn't an object that will be missed for what "uses" it had. She was a woman who had dreams, who had a community who love her, who had a husband who loves her, dogs she cared for and loved who loved her, and a mother who loves her. I didn't want her story to be another reblog of a lost life.

I know this post is sporadic and clunky, but I wanted to just grab any information I could without crossing boundaries (ex. contacting the family or something tasteless like that). I just wanted to share what she had already shared with the world.

Her friend, Megan Lee, has posted a gofundme that has already surpassed their goal. But I would still suggest donating if you are able. Rest in peace, Kagney Linn Necessary. 💜

#worked on this all morning trying to find sources #got emotional #gonna take it easy for the rest of the day #rest in peace

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earlgreytea68 · 10 months

Text

LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT SO MUCH FOR (TOUR) DUST SPOILERS, OKAY?

~~~

Set list:

(1) That Pink Seashell spoken word thing actually opens the show

(2) Love from the Other Side: I assumed they'd play this first, and they did, and they looked very happy with the reception that it got

(3) The Phoenix

(4) Sugar, We're Goin Down: I overheard two guys when I was leaving saying, "I only came to this show for that Sugar song, and it was the third song they played," whatever to those two guys lol

(5) Uma Thurman

(6) A Litttle Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me

(7) Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: I know they always play this song when they play Chicago but the way the show is set up, there's this spoken intro that references a light being left on in Chicago, and then they launch into this song, and so I feel like maybe it's permanently in the set list for this tour, we'll see.

(8) Grand Theft Autumn: Patrick told the story again of how he wrote the lyrics while jogging with Pete. Here is exactly what he said, because I recorded it, hahaha: "I wrote this song out here, jogging, trying to figure out the words. This was back when I wrote a lot of the words. And Pete was jogging with me and he was like, 'Eh, maybe change this, maybe change this.' Before we knew it he was writing all the lyrics." And then Pete said, "Imagine us jogging" lolololol

(9) Calm Before the Storm

(10) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race: They added a little Peterick-y moment in here? I don't remember them playing at each other during this song in previous performances? It was cute, it was during the instrumental part before Patrick leads the singalong, maybe I've just always missed it? They played it each other and kind of did some kind of kick thing with their legs??

(11) Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes: Honestly, always a delight to hear this song, this is one of my favorites <3

(12) Heaven, Iowa: THIS SONG LIVE, I SWEAR

(13) "The Take Over, the Breaks Over": OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG AND I TOTALLY DIDN'T EXPECT THEM TO PLAY IT, I WAS SO HAPPY

(14) Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet: <3 Guess they got over being scared of playing this one lol

(15) Fake Out: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I WAS THAT THEY PLAYED THIS ONE OMGGGGGGG. Also, there was some plan I wasn't aware of to, like, hold up cell phones with pink paper over the lights so the crowd lit up pink???? I have no idea who engineered that but it was CHARMING and at the end of the song Pete said, "Thanks for that, guys, that was beautiful," and the stage was on darkness so it seemed absolutely spontaneous on his part and I think they really did like the effect, so, Idk, future shows, keep doing it????

(16) Patrick did some kind of piano interlude where he played "Don't Stop Believin'"????? It was random but he was super charming, I think the rest of the band used it as a break, it was just SO GREAT. Part of his intro was: "Pete was putting together this show and he said to me, 'Hey, you should play piano.' And I was like, 'I kinda only play songs I wrote. I don't really play piano. I don't know how to play piano.' And he's like, 'Eh, you'll figure it out.'" And then Patrick sat down and played gorgeous piano ugh THANKS, PETE.

(17) Last of the Real Ones: I am glad Mania got some love.

(18) Save Rock and Roll

(19) PETE RECITED BABY ANNIHILATION WHAT. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SO DID NOT EXPECT THIS AND I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THAT IT HAPPENED. If you're going to the show, pay attention, because I looked away and apparently there's, like, a magic trick at the end of the monologue where he disappears behind a piece of black silk?????

(20) Crazy Train cover: I...don't know what to say about this randomness hahaha but it happened??

(21) Dance Dance

(22) Hold Me Like a Grudge: I think Patrick adores singing this song, I really do.

(23) G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: I KNOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, EITHER.

(24) My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)

(25) Thnks fr th Mmrs

(26) Centuries

(27) Saturday <3

The show ends with a little piano version of So Much (for) Stardust played over the sound system, so pay attention for that.

The set is super Alice in Wonderland-y and I adored it, it's playful and fantastical and has all these whimsical touches and interludes and I just thought it was delightful and at one point there were bubbles, and I heard some people complaining after the concert that the fantasy thing didn't suit their style of music and really, I was surrounded by downers after the concert, I thought they were perfect hahaha. Like, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. They looked so, so, so tangibly happy, all of them. Patrick sounded fantastic and he looked like he was having a blast, he smiled the whole time.

I have a lot of videos but they seem like they're all pretty terrible, but I'll see how I feel in the morning lol

#fall out boy #fob #bandom

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

hey lovely! i love how u write and i’ve just had this idea for a request for a while and it’s with charles and u know how he plays the piano 😁 so the reader loves to sing and has a really nice voice so he loves to play like an adele song and let her just singgg. I think it’s so sweeet, have nice day/night ily!!🫶

PIANO PRINCE | CHARLES LECLERC

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warnings: this is heavily inspired by taylor swift and joe alwyn's relationship!

author's note: this is probably the first and only time I'll ever complete a request the day it was requested lol- I'm proud of myself. I know it is not exactly like how you suggested it, but I still hope you enjoy it! thanks for the support and I hope you have a nice day!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''There is this one name that comes up a few times in the song credits,'' Jimmy puts the cover art of her new album down, ''Jules Perceval.'' He reads out loud, a humorous grin on his face.

Y/N nods her head, already knowing where this was going. ''Yes, Jules Perceval.'' She confirms.

''Your fans are quite confused on who this person is, because it's the first time they've shown up in your album credits and they have a lot of theories so can you confirm who Jules Perceval is?'' Her publicist had already confirmed with Jimmy's team that they had permission to ask about the mystery person that had producing credits on her new body of work.

The singer laughs as the audience reacts enthusiastically. ''Yes, I can,'' she mischievously smiles at Jimmy who claps his hands, ''Jules Perceval is a pseudonym for my boyfriend.'' As soon as the words left her mouth, the crowd started applauding and making 'ooh'- noises.

''Your boyfriend? Is he a composer or?'' The host grows more curious at the revelation that it's her significant other.

She shakes her head. ''No, he's actually a, uh, race car driver.'' Y/N chuckles, Jimmy's surprised face amusing her greatly.

''A race car driver? Wow, that's quite a contrast,'' he laughs, the audience giggling along with him, ''how did you guys end up working together? Because your jobs are vastly different.'' He asks, putting his cards down.

''It wasn't planned, but Charles- my boyfriend- he loves playing the piano and he's been doing that for years, and one day he was just playing around on it and not taking it very seriously, but he played this certain melody that caught my attention,'' she explained, ''I asked him to play it again, recorded it on my phone and I send it to my producer that I usually work with.''

''He sent a more worked out version of the melody back and that's how it came about.'' She finished her explanation.

Jimmy and the audience looked impressed. ''That's amazing! And why did he decide to use a pseudonym and not his real name?''

''We wanted people to listen to the song without having any higher expectations simply because he was in the credits.'' Y/N answers, diplomatically.

''Jules Perceval sounds very fancy,'' Jimmy smiled, gathering some laughs from the crowd, ''did you come up with that or did your boyfriend?''

''That was all him,'' she grinned, ''his godfather is named Jules and one of his middle names is Perceval so that's how the name came about.'' Y/N remembers clearly how proud Charles looked as he told her and her team which name he wanted to be credited under.

''I love that! Well, if the racing doesn't work out, he has another profession he can get right into.'' Jimmy teased, leaning his arms on the desk.

Y/N giggled, hiding her face in her hands. ''I'll tell him that.''

''So… I can quit racing, huh?'' Charles' tired voice sounded over the phone, the mischief still present.

Y/N snorted at his greeting. ''You watched the interview then, I thought you might be too busy to watch it.''

''Of course I saw it, it was your first time on the show- I couldn't miss it.'' His words melted her heart, touched by the fact that he still took the time to watch her interview despite being busy in Italy with simulator work.

''I really appreciate it, honey- I hope you're doing well, you sound very tired.'' His voice was a bit deeper than usual, indicating just how exhausted he was.

She could hear him chuckle on the other side. ''I'm fine, chérie,'' he assured her, ''it was just a long day, that's all.''

Y/N was about to reply, but her manager waved her hands in front of her face. ''I'm sorry, we have to go now.'' She whispered, pointing at the door of the dressing room.

''You have to go, huh?'' Charles sighed.

''Yeah,'' the singer pouted, disappointed the couple didn't get to call for at least a few more minutes, ''I'll call you later, though.''

''It's okay, mon amour,'' despite not seeing him, she was sure he was smiling, ''I'm always proud of you, okay? I'm thinking of you.'' The driver let her know the words in his heart.

''I'm thinking of you too- I love you.'' Y/N bid him goodbye.

''Je t'aime.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic

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kangmoon27 · 9 months

Text

The Boy | Jungkook ff

Pairing: Bhrams Yandere Jungkook x babysitter Y/n

Summary: they paid you a huge amount of money just to babysit their son who turned out to be a doll named kookie not knowing the real kookie is actually all grown up and living behind the walls where he always watches you.

You're the new babysitter and a caretaker of the house of Jeon. You though it's just a normal thing but when you got to know who you're supposed to babysit. You're shivering in fear.

You saw a doll sitting on the chair. Height as a five years old kid and to your surprise the doll is the one that you will babysit. Feed him, bath him, get him to sleep but could a doll even do that?.

Well you couldn't complain more. The money offer is huge and you couldn't afford to be payed that much even if you will have 5 part time job.

It's been a month since you're staying here. You can say it's creepy. The whole vibes is little got you shivering in fear. The noises from the walls. The way the doll is changing position and sit on other places as if it can walk on its own and your clothes that always went missing. It's crazy. You wanted to leave but their is something that always stops you.

You came back to the kitchen after collecting the groceries that Malcon dropped and as always. You found the place empty when you're pretty sure you filled it with a lot of foods.

Walking to the doll and stare at it. Sighing before you grabbed the table napkin from his lap and wipe his mouth on it. You turn around and unpack the groceries when you suddenly felt a present of a person standing behind you.

Hesitantly, you turn around and found no one. No one even the doll. It always happen but yet it's still terrifying. You wanted to cry and leave but you just can't. Your feet seems like stuck in this house.

You slowly made your way to the living room and saw the doll sitting on the piano chair. Looking at the clock you find out that it's time for you to play piano for him. Slowly making your way next to him and sat.

You hummed while playing piano. Closing your eyes and started feeling the remedy, it's making your brain relax for a bit. Just then the wall made a huge noise as if someone just bang behind it.

You quickly get up and grabbed the doll along with you. Your breath started hitching, your heart is beating too fast. You heard foot steps, each and every step is making a huge bang. You can say it's like a huge person is running behind the empty walls.

The running foot steps fades away. Walking upstairs and went inside your room while holding the doll in your hand. Putting him down on the chair behind closing your eyes in frustration. You're so scared.

Soon you open your eyes and found the doll staring at you. Slowly walking towards it and grab him, putting him up high before asking. "What the fck are you tryin do huh? Are you doing this could you wanted me to leave? Fine!! It's that's what you want then I'm leaving!!. I'm done!!."

You throw the doll away as you grab your luggage Under your bed. You place it in your bed and walk towards the closet. Before you could even pick up you clothes. The room of your bedroom shut making you startled.

Staring in horror you found the doll already missing from your sigh then the banging on the walls started. Your eyes is filled with tears. You sat on the corner of the room crying, hugging yourself while covering your ears.

"S-stop. Stop!! I said stop I'll stay!! Please, I won't go anywhere just please stop!! I'll stay!!" As soon as you said you will stay the banging sound stop.

You cried silently. The door of your bedroom slowly open and saw him sitting Infront of your room. You wipe your tears away and walk towards him. Picking him up behind going to his bedroom and put him to sleep.

Closing the book after finishing his bedtime stories. You pick up the blanket and cover the boy doll with it before placing a kiss on his forehead.

You look at him for the last time. Wondering if it's posses or what but you knew there is something about this doll that keeps on getting in your nerves.

"Good night kookie" you sigh and get up from the bed. You look at him for the last before closing the door behind you.

As soon as you entered your room you saw the bathroom light is on so you walk towards it and attempt to switch it off but before you could even do it. You found your used clothes again missing not only your clothes but also your undergarments.

You search everywhere but there's nothing. You found nothing.

Meanwhile. A man with a mask is laying on his dirty bed next to the pillow that is dressed up with your favorite red dress that he stoled.

He's been living behind the walls for years since he's only five years old till now that he's grown man. The incident really changed his life. He accidentally k'lled his childhood friend and burn down their house that made everyone thought he's already gone but he isn't. He's fully alive and now a grown man but his existence is hidden that his parents made a doll that looks like him and eventually treated it like their own child while the real kookie is living behind the walls

He's breathing heavily face is covered with sweat under his mask. Trying so hard to not make any loud noise nor m'an out while his huge veiny hand wrapped around his l'ngth. It also added pleasure as your freshly used undergarment is Under his nose smelling it while pumping himself upwards and down.

"U-ughhh Y-yn more" he keep on m'aning while tightening his grip on his c'ck as he continuesly moving his fist up sidd down.

His groan gets louder after feeling himself c'mming. Soon a white liquor squish out of his m'mber making his breath heavenly. A soft chuckles came out of his mouth after making himself reach his high.

He sniff your undergarments and smiled. He turn around and kiss the pillow that he dress up like you while imagining it is you. H get up and made his way to your room inside the wall and peek through the small hole where he watches you sleeping.

To be continue

[Yes this is my version of the "the boy" movie. I just really really love the yandere idea of that movie and I'm literally obsessed with it!!]

Second Part

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vcrooster · 2 years

Text

He needs his family

Angst, smut & and just a little bit of fluff.

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Wife!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your husband come back home to you completely shattered.

Warnings: mentions of rough sex, mental health issues, mentions of death and blood.

Author’s note: thank you guys so much for all the love I’ve been receiving from you guys! 🤍

***

Rooster was usually enthusiastic when he came back home from deployment.

You could tell when he was happy to be back in the comfort of his home, enjoying every second with his boy that had gotten a couple of inches bigger since he left. Rooster had promised to teach him how to play the piano and show him granpa’s album collection when he got back.

But he had to admit that the best part of it was sleeping in his own bed in your arms every night, he’d miss making love to you and looking at how pretty your face looked when you started to doze off into your sleep.

But this time it was all different.

He doesn’t know you know. You received a call early in the morning, your alarm wasn’t set for another three hours. It didn’t startle you as much thinking it was Bradley since he’s overseas. But it wasn’t him, it was Pete.

Your heart sank, you didn’t want all the worst scenarios to play in your head, but they did.

“Pete” You tried to sound as if you weren’t biting your nails anxiously. But you knew that he was the bearer of bad news.

“Sorry to wake you up–” He started.

“No, no, no, it’s alright”.

“There’s been some complications in the mission with Bradley” He sighed. You covered your mouth trying to drown the sorrows. Oh god no, don’t let him be dead.

“Is he?” The words left your mouth so silently that you almost thought he wouldn’t hear you.

“He’s okay, they just have him in observation in the hospital” He is quick to clarify, imagining what you must be feeling on the other end. “His wingman didn’t make it”.

Your body feels cold when he says that. It’s not the first time he had an accident in the air, however this was the first time he lost anyone, and if it was his fault you know he will never forgive himself for it.

“He’s set to go home by the end of next week, I’m just supposed to be calling you just to let you know to pick him up at the airport” you hear a door close on his side of the line and his voice is much clearer.

“What happened?” The hot tears were falling down your cheeks and your nails were digging in the palm of your hand.

“I can’t go into details” Pete breathed out “All he needs is his family right now”.

“Alright” all the words get stuck in your throat. He hangs up the call leaving you unsettled.

It’s three in the morning and you're crying in your bed. You feel a lot of pressure in your head, your eyes trail off to the framed picture of your wedding day on your bedroom wall.

Your boy in the middle of both of you, he was just a couple of years old in that picture, had the biggest smile on his face just like Bradley’s.

He looks so much like him.

He was always stealing your phone to send him videos and pictures of what he was doing, he liked to keep him updated.

He had even dressed up as a pilot for halloween, he asked for you to make him a patch with the name: Nick Bradshaw “Hawk”, the call sign Bradley chose for him when they’d use to play pilots in the living room.

But lately he hasn’t replied to him.

You hate to see your son keep sending messages to him with no answer. It absolutely broke your heart when he asked you if his dad was mad at him.

You’d expect him to call you and tell you what happened but he didn’t.

Him going no contact for almost a week felt like forever, the only thing you knew from him were Pete’s texts tell you he’s not doing very well. Needless to say they just made the knot in your stomach grow bigger.

He finally decided to call you a couple of days before coming back. It wasn’t a long call, all that you could rescue from it was that he’s okay and he couldn’t wait to be back home. Nothing about the mission or his wingman.

It was a Saturday morning when he finally arrived back in Oregon, back home. Nick had spent all afternoon making a sign for his dad that read “Rooster” just like in his helmet.

“Mom help me hold it higher so he can see the sign I made”. You do your best in lifting him up, wrapping your arms around his stomach. He wasn’t that heavy for a six year old, but you had to admit you did struggle a little. “There he is! Dad!”

He looked tired– very tired. He had some bandages around his arm and from what you could tell he also had a limp on his right leg.

His pretty hazel eyes had some prominent eye bags below them that he was trying to hide under a black baseball cap, but managed to smile when he spotted you in the crowd of people.

As soon as Nick’s feet were in the ground again he ran straight to his dad giving him the biggest hug he could.

His hand takes Bradley’s walking him towards where you were standing. You see how his eyes tone down once he meets yours.

He didn’t waste no time, he’s holding you so close to him you could feel yourself melting into him. The only thing that runs through your head is Maverick saying that Rooster needs his family.

“Welcome home honey” you whispered to his ear and that made him hold you tighter.

“I missed you guys so much” you rubbed his back. He’s been gone for almost seven months, you could honestly stay like this for hours.

“Dad, did you see my sign?” Your son pulls on his arm to try and grab his full attention, you find it so adorable how he had to get on his tippy toes to reach it.

“I did see it, you made this?” He was holding the paper in his hands, lowering at Nick’s height. He nodded with pride and started to explain it to Bradley. “ Can I keep it?”

“Yeah, I made it for you”.

“I love it, thank you” He hugs him one more time before rolling it up so he can put it on his backpack “C’mere” he carries him all the way back to the car on his shoulders.

The car ride was unexpectedly quite enjoyable, you could tell that he was trying to avoid any question that had to do with his deployment, nonetheless he seemed to be his warm self, which was honestly a big relief, you were prepared to have him at his worse but here he is smiling and singing in your car without a care in the world.

If you didn’t know him any better you’d know how good he is at evading the actual problems, he hopes that you're not too mad at him.

He wasn’t ignoring you. He was tired and maybe that was the worst excuse he could ever give you but there was no way he could talk to you without breaking down, how could he ever tell you it’s his fault that someone is dead.

There are a lot of maybes he’s scared about and it feels so intimidating looking into your eyes and saying that he’s alright just a little bruised so that you don’t have to be worried about him, he doesn’t know how long is he going to be able to keep it up, last thing he wants is for you to be disappointed in him.

He makes conversation about how he likes the new changes you made to the house, he marks down the inch Nick grew in the past months, he helps with dinner and the dishes. He has to repeat to himself that everything is alright, everything is normal, but he can even bring himself out of the bathroom without his anxiety shooting to the roof.

Before he could allow his mind to overthink any further he opens the door, finding you putting his clothes away on his side of the closet. His heart beats faster every step he takes in your direction and reminds himself to loosen up, that you love him.

“Hey” He hugs you from behind leaving a sweet kiss on your temple. There were still some traces of the vanilla scent you used and that was his favorite on you.

“Hi” You turn wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a warm smile. His hands fall to your hips holding tightly.

You can tell he’s nervous, his thumbs draw circles on your skin and he bites the inside of his cheek. The way his eyes look at you starts to take you back to the hurt Bradley from when his mother passed away.

You hate that you feel sorry for him, it’s just one thing after the other for him, it’s like he can’t catch a break.

You close the distance hugging him as hard as you could “Hey, it’s alright. You’re home.” you whisper trying to make him feel better.

Most people would never guess how depressed Rooster could get, the way he would let himself spiral into the rabbit hole made it sometimes very hard to pull him out of it. And it cost you a lot to do it but he was worth it.

You’ve always tried to be a good wife to him, always tried to make sure he didn’t feel alone, even when you weren’t by his side you tried to give him a ground to stand on.

“What happened Bradley?” Your fingers running slowly through his hair. He remained silent pulling closer to him as if he was trying to keep you from running away from him.

You know he doesn’t want to answer you. Not yet at least.

“I love you” His beautiful hazel eyes look straight into yours now looking like they lost their warmth.

There is a knot in your chest growing and growing as you see how shattered your husband came back home to you.

“I love you so much Bradley”.

His lips join yours in a tender kiss where he lets himself go.

Your fingers brush the skin of his neck pulling him closer to your body. You clutched at his shoulders as he started to take a few steps back letting the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Fuck, I missed you” His tounge immediately made its way into your mouth. Your legs wrapped tightly around his body and you felt him grow inside his shorts.

His fingers were having a hard time unbuttoning your pyjama. You chuckled, helping him undo it after giving up moving to your shorts, his hands got lost under the waistband so that he could rub your clit over the fabric making you moan his name just in the way he missed it so much.

It takes you a second to return to your blouse revealing his favorite teal lingerie under it.

“You wore this just for me baby?” He takes the straps feeling the silky material on his fingers. You nod, taking your bottom in between your teeth. Tracing the embroidery on your breast he took the opportunity to squeeze and knead them. “How lucky am I”.

You run your hands across his chest under the cotton material, feeling his dogs tags. Pulling at his shirt but it only resulted in him pinning your hands above your head, lips joining yours so hungrily that not being able to run your fingers through his hair was enough to make you whine.

Leaning down trailing down between your breasts leaving tiny red marks along your skin. “Rooster”. He went crazy when you used his call sign during sex.

He wanted to taste you so badly, he’s been thinking about it for months. You watch as he throws you leg over his shoulders kissing and giving small bites to the inside of your thigh.

He goes for it, immediately going for your clit making you arch your back.

He holds you down firmly with one hand as the fingers of the other curl inside you. He sucks on your clit and flicks it with his tongue, the only thing you can do is grip his hair tighter pulling him closer to you.

His fingers working inside you boy made the pleasure bubble up on your lower stomach. He waits for you to cum even though he is about to explode inside his shorts.

“Shit, I’m so hard already” you pull him up palming him over the material, gasping at how sensitive he was.

“What are you waiting for then?”.

He had been dreaming of this moment every night for the past seven months. He missed your touch, your kisses, how you felt around him, how every time it feels better than the last time.

He missed his wife.

He held you against his chest all night. His hot breath caressing your ear and arm wrapping on your waist.

The days got better, Bradley has been taking care of Nick, making up for the lost time. You did have to admit having not to worry about your son every hour of the day was a huge relief.

Bradley’s nights had gotten worse the following weeks. Waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, panting, feeling more exhausted one night after the other.

He didn’t want to worry you, he was becoming a little too irritated at all times, being at home, with Nick, he wouldn’t speak too Maverick, he even was a little too rough during sex.

It’s like he wasn’t himself anymore.

There he was on top of you, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed and lips parted.

His thrusts got to a point of getting too harsh making you feel uncomfortable instead of feeling pleasure. Your nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder blades as you’re trying to ignore how the discomfort turns into pain.

“Bradley…” it barely comes out as a whisper thanks to the pressure in your throat.

He groans in response, digging his fingers into your hip holding you steady for him.

“Bradley” it was a little louder this time but his mind was somewhere else “Slow down”.

Rooster was usually passionate but gentle, now matter how caught up he was he’d always make sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

“Please Bradley”. You were trying not to freak out, but it wasn’t long before you'd let go of all the tears you were holding back. “You’re hurting me”.

You push his shoulders with the little strength you have left and finally manage to get his attention.

He stops. It finally stops.

He sees the tears running down your cheeks and how your hands are shaking over the skin of his chest. And your eyes, fuck your eyes, they looked so scared of him.

“Shit, shit, shit” What has he done? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He just now noticed that you're still trying to push him off you.

You let out a painful whimper when he finally pulled out. He spotted a bloodstain on the sheets right in between your thighs and the burning that your nails left on his shoulders.

What has he done?

“Baby I’m so sorry” Rooster wasn’t exactly sure if it was alright to go near you, he thought it was better to create some distance instead of forcing you to accept his touch. “I didn’t–”. He swallowed, not knowing what to say that wasn’t an apology. “Fuck, I didn’t mean– I’m sorry”

You wrap the sheets around your body as you make your way to the bathroom. Not once you look at him, the whole situation feels confusing, the only thing you want to do is clean the blood running down your thighs.

He calls your name on the other side of the door. He listens to everything, drawers opening, water running, you crying.

“I’m so sorry” he felt himself choking sitting next to the door trying to stay afloat. “I keep fucking everything up”.

You grab your robe before opening the door. You’re not mad at him, he means it when he says he’s sorry, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was hurting and the pit inside him is only getting bigger.

You sit next to him and he immediately wraps his arms around you looking for your forgiveness. “I’m so sorry”.

He’s crying. You haven’t seen him cry since he left for deployment when Nick was a couple of months old.

“I know, I know Bradley” His eyes fogged when you reached cupping his face caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “But you need to talk to me. You need to stop acting like everything is alright”.

“I told him to take a left turn” His voice is shaky as he holds your hand.

“What?”.

“I didn’t see the bandits up ahead, they weren’t in the radar”. Words filled with so many emotions, tearing him apart. “They shot us down. He didn’t have time to eject” he finally opened up. “I heard him scream in the fire. I couldn’t help him.”

What could you possibly say to him? You had no idea it was this bad when Maverick called you that night.

“He had a kid…” That broke Rooster. There was a child somewhere that was going to grow up without his Dad. Just like he did, just like his own boy could’ve had if he wasn’t behind his wingman that day.

“Oh Bradley” You hugged him as he cried in your chest. Last time you were in this position it was when Nick’s cat died.

He cries with so much guilt and pain. He cries in the same way he did holding on to his mother’s hand when she passed in the hospital bed.

“It’s not your fault” You whispered “it could’ve happened to anybody” His fingers were digging in your skin again, not letting you go anywhere.

“Mom?” Nick’s body was half way into the room looking so worried he almost had a scared expression on his face.

“Everything is alright honey, go back to your room”.

Bradley stiffness in your arms. He doesn’t want his boy to see him like this. He’s supposed to be his hero, no kid should ever see his hero like this, right?

“What’s wrong with Dad?” His small hazel eyes can’t look away from his father. “Does he have a tummy ache?” He makes it a little further into the room only thinking of how to help his Dad. “I’ll go get some tums”. You hear his footsteps go all the way down to the kitchen opening up the pantry doors.

Rooster chuckles at his son’s innocence.

“I’m sorry” he says one more time before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, we’ll stay with you now matter what Bradley, nothing is changing that”. You wipe the tear that’s about to reach his lips and place a soft kiss on them.

Nick is back in no time, Bradley sits up and puts a smile on his face thanking his kid for taking care of him.

“Here daddy” Rooster opens his palm letting the tables fall on his hand “I got you two because you're bigger than me”.

“Thank you” Rooster takes a hand to his hair, messing it up a little more than it already is “You mind keeping an eye on me tonight?” He hugs his son, he hugs him knowing that every single second with him matters more than he thinks.

“Only if you promise to throw up in the bathroom”.

“I promise” his pinky intertwines with Bradley’s.

He takes care of the bed before he lets you both go on it, taking care of the previous sheets.

No nightmares just him and the people he loved the most.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster angst #rooster one shot #rooster smut #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

Love on Tour: The Documentary

we all know harry is working on a documentary, so this is my take on how young dad!harry would approach it!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

and now a little key:

bold and italics: camera directions, or what you would be seeing as a viewer of the documentary in person

just italics: interviewer questions, or people who are speaking off camera

Part 2 Part 3

Harry jogs off stage, his mask wrapped securely around his ears as he leaves the sounds of thousands of screams behind. Even so, his squinted eyes make it obvious that he’s smiling. He walks into his dressing room and shuts the door with a soft click and immediately starts to change out of his concert outfit. After shimmying into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Harry grabs his phone and sits down on the couch.

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby. How was the show?”

"Amazing. I feel like we get better with each performance."

"Aw, H. I'm so happy for you!"

Harry grins at his phone while resting his chin on his hand. "Missed seeing you. Missed seeing all of you."

"We're so proud of you, baby. No matter how far away we are," the voice on the other side of Harry's phone says. "In other news, the bub has been quite active today."

"Yeah?" Harry says, and his demeanor immediately visibly brightens. "Hope she's not giving you too much trouble."

"We don't know if it's a she, H."

"I do. I have a sixth sense for these types of things."

Cut to Harry sitting in an empty room for his interview.

“So, why did you decide to talk about all of this now?”

Harry rubs his chin as he ponders the question. “I think…I think it’s hard not to. When I think back on my career, I think about how old Simone was or how Jules had just begun walking or sneaking to a courthouse to get married. My family is a part of my life and has been a part of most of my career. My kids, my wife...they mean everything to me, and I—I know it sounds kind of crazy, but I can’t imagine my life, my career any differently. I wouldn’t want to do this without my family.”

The camera cuts to a series of home videos—Y/n and Harry sharing a kiss in a courthouse, members of One Direction celebrating around them, a toddler in Harry’s lap as he plays the piano, Y/n on a tour bus with a small bundle in her arms, Harry catching a little girl as she jumps into a pool, a little girl with dark curls playing with all members of One Direction backstage at a concert venue, Harry asleep on a hotel bed with his face covered in play makeup, a three year old sleeping next to him.

“Should we start with when you met Y/n?”

His grin is immediate. “I was seventeen years old.”

Harry’s voice becomes a voice over as clips of him and the members of One Direction film their music video for What Makes You Beautiful.

“It sounds cheesy, but I’ve always thought it was fate that we met. Her friend was an extra in the video, and she happened to tag along. I was immediately taken with her. We got along really well and talked long after I left LA.”

The camera cuts back to Harry.

“Just talked?”

Harry blushes. “Obviously not, but I’m a gentleman. All I’ll say is, kids, understand the importance of practicing protected sex.”

A cut to a similar room where Y/n sits.

“He said that? My husband, everybody.”

Everyone behind the studio laughs with her.

“So you got pregnant.”

Y/n nods. “Oh yeah.”

“Was there ever a moment where you didn’t want to tell Harry?”

“It definitely crossed my mind. We were so young and we didn’t see each other very often in the grand scheme of things. No one ever expects something like this to happen to them, but it happened to us.”

Back to Harry.

“I was terrified. Mostly terrified to tell my mum, but it…it changed everything. Here I was thinking my life had already changed drastically with the band, and then Y/n is pregnant.”

The camera cuts to Anne’s interview.

“I mean, I think the possibility is in the back of parent’s mind,” she says, shaking her head a little. “But you raise your children to be smart and responsible and hope for the best.”

“How did that conversation go when Harry told you?”

“He was practically crying over the phone, which made me…less angry, which isn’t even the right word, I don’t think. Poor Harry was so scared, and all I kept thinking was, ‘I send my son to Hollywood and a few months later he gets some girl pregnant.’ I didn’t even know he was dating Y/n.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, so that made the whole thing even more surprising. But he kept saying, ‘Mum, she’s not just some girl. She’s really special.’ Things like that. But I won’t lie, it was a lot to digest.”

Back to Y/n.

“What was it like meeting Anne for the first time?”

“Oh God,” Y/n says. “Mortifying. I was already showing when we met, which made the whole thing that much worse. We couldn’t even pretend we were meeting under normal ‘meet your boyfriend’s mom for the first time’ circumstances. But she was really nice. She asked how I was feeling and helped me get set up with the right doctors. She made me feel welcome, which I appreciated.”

Back to Harry.

“Her parents weren’t as supportive as mine, and she was feeling kind of isolated and overwhelmed, so I convinced my mum to let Y/n live with her.”

Back to Y/n.

“You lived with Harry’s mother?”

Y/n nods and smiles at the camera. “It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and I stand by it. Things were really tense at home, and I just thought it would be a little easier going through everything with people who were completely on board.” Y/n shrugs. “I was young and scared and needed a maternal figure. I tried to think of it as going off to college.”

“But no one had a clue about any of this.”

Back to Harry.

Harry shakes his head. “My management at the time wanted to make this go away as quickly as possible. They tried to pay Y/n off so she wouldn’t contact me again or say anything about it.”

“Really?”

Back to Y/n.

“Yeah, but I told them to shove their offer up their asses. It wasn’t nearly as much as I would’ve gotten from child support, first of all.”

“Did you ever consider taking the offer?”

“Of course I did. I had to consider all my options.” Y/n is quiet for a moment and doesn’t look at the camera. “I eventually decided to stay with Harry and have the baby, but, you know, I had my whole life ahead of me. Both of us did.”

Back to Harry.

“Did you know about that?”

“The payoff? Yeah, she told me shortly after. As for the other stuff…I knew. And I would’ve respected whatever decision she made. But when she decided to keep the baby and keep me in her life, I told management they would have to figure something else out, and keeping her and the pregnancy was their solution.”

“What was it like to be in One Direction while having a baby at home?”

“Strange,” Harry says. “Like, some of the best moments of my life were in the band, but then I would get a text from Y/n and it would be a picture of Simone in the bathtub covered in bubbles, and I would want to be there all of a sudden.”

A series of videos and photographs of Harry and Y/n in 2012 appear. In hotel rooms, backstage at One Direction concerts, homes. With each image, Y/n’s baby bump grows.

(Voiceover) “It was this weird mix of having so much fun and feeling bad when I realized Y/n was at home by herself with a newborn. She’s never blamed me or never asked me to stop what I was doing, but this tiny seed of guilt was always in the back of my mind.

A video of a young Harry and Y/n appears. They seem to be in a dressing room. Y/n lays against Harry while his hand rests on her baby bump. Y/n looks up at Harry and smiles, and he smiles back before he looks up and realizes they’re being filmed. “Oi! Get out of here, Louis!” Louis laughs from behind the camera and says, “You’ll thank me later!”

“We were faced with a lot of decisions, none of them easy. And sneaking around had its drawbacks, especially when my management team wanted me to start doing all the fake dating and stuff.”

Harry stops talking, as if recalling a memory, but he doesn’t share it. “But one thing was easy at least. When we first met, we bonded over our love for Nina Simone. When Y/n suggested it, it just sounded right.”

Back to Harry in his dressing room.

“How is everyone?” he asks Y/n over the phone.

“I have four little monkeys that should be asleep, but they wanted to say goodnight first.”

Harry’s grin widens as a chorus of hellos echoes from his phone. From a different angle over his shoulder, four faces can be seen on his screen. “Hi, hi, hi, hi. Are you all being good for your mumma?”

“Dada!”

“Where are you?”

“How was the show?”

“Hi my loves. The show went really, really great. I miss you all so much,” Harry says.

“When are you coming home, Dada?”

“Soon, Maeve, I promise. Just a couple more nights and I’ll be home.”

“Can we get ice cream when you come home?”

Harry laughs. “Yes, peanut, we can get ice cream. Now go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime.”

There’s lots of protesting from the four children on the phone, but one voice pipes up above the rest. “Can you sing us a song?”

“Of course, JuJu. How could I forget? What would you like?”

Back to Harry’s interview.

“So, how many kids do you have now?”

“I am a proud father of six. Five girls, one boy, one set of twins.”

“Full house then.”

Harry nods and makes a mock-exasperated sigh. “Oh yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“There’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure. Y/n’s the real marvel, though. I don’t know how she does it.”

Back to Y/n.

“I’m not gonna lie, there are times where I don’t even feel like a person, but Harry works just as hard to give our family the life we have. And he’s an incredible dad. He’ll come home from tour, clearly exhausted, and he’ll still be the first one out of bed to get the kids ready for school and make breakfast and change diapers. I mean, the man doesn’t stop.”

“You’re a team, then.”

Y/n smiles. “Yeah. We’re a team. All eight of us.”

“Did you see yourself ever having six kids?”

“I mean...technically we were supposed to stop at four.”

“So what happened?”

Y/n sighs and shakes her head exasperatedly. “The pandemic happened.”

A home video begins to play in the Styles’ living room. Harry is filming and Y/n is in front of it with her hands behind her back.

“Alright. Tell me why the camera’s out, Mama. Where are the kids?”

“They’re building a pillow fort for us in our room, but first…I have a surprise for you.”

Y/n leans past the camera to give him a small gift bag. Crinkling is heard as Harry pulls tissue paper out of the bag. “Are you serious?”

Y/n nods, a large grin on her face. “I’m about six weeks along.”

Harry laughs, and the camera wobbles as he rushes over to Y/n to pick her up. Their giggles and cheers of excitement can be heard offscreen.

“We’re having a baby!” Harry says.

Back to Harry.

“Are you gonna go for lucky number seven?”

Harry scratches the back of his head. “Currently up for debate. The missus is apprehensive, but I think I’m wearing her down.

Back to Y/n

Y/n scoffs and shakes her head. “He can keep on dreaming.”

“So you’ve had this discussion before?”

“It’s…been mentioned once or twice. But any time he brings it up I threaten him with no sex for two weeks. Am I allowed to say that?”

Back to Harry.

Harry opens his mouth to speak when a small hand tugs on his shirt. Looking down, he smiles. Harry bends down and picks up a little girl. For privacy reasons, her face is blurred. She wraps her arms around his neck so she’s in his lap and her back is facing the camera.

“I’m hungry,” the little girl says in what can only be described as a “monster voice.”

Matching her tone, Harry asks, “What would you like, GiGi?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Harry shakes his head and kisses GiGi’s temple. He covers the microphone clipped on his shirt so he can talk to his daughter privately. With another kiss, he lets go of the mic. “You got it.” Harry shrugs at the camera with a smile. To the camera, he says, “Can we finish this later? Duty calls.”

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young parent!harry styles #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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borathae · 3 months

Text

"It's a good life, being with each other. It's a damn good life."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: lovely mornings, being in love and being loved in return, sweet kisses, they're the only couple ever, i tried to make the writing poetic in this, i recommend listening to piano music whilst reading to get the full experience

Wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: you guys know the drill by now. i love them i love them i love them :(

Yoongi wakes to the smell of the ocean and the ghost of your shampoo. He rolls to his side, reaching for you so he could pull you into his arms and turn the ghost into something present again.

He opens his eyes because all he grabs are empty sheets. They are already cold to the touch.

“___?” he says your name first.

He sits up and looks around the room. The blinds are still closed, but the sun manages to enter the bedroom in thin strokes of light. It is enough for him to see perfectly.

“My love?” he says your name of love second.

He looks around the empty room. Your pyjama is still on the armchair where he put it last night after undressing you. Your favourite dressing gown is missing from its spot.

“My princess?” he says your name of endearment last.

The room stays empty, just as the smell of your shampoo stays a ghost.

Yoongi gets out of bed, slipping into a pair of pyjama trousers to cover his lower body. Then he leaves to find you. He knows that the chances of something having happened to you are slim, but he will still feel a lot better once he truly sees that you are alright.

He opens the bedroom door. The scent of coffee fills his nose. The sound of the piano meets his ear. He smiles. There you are. And you are alright. Yoongi doesn’t bother to close the bedroom door and begins his descent downstairs.

The curtains are open, inviting in the bright morning light. The plants are dancing and stretching to soak up every second of it. Yoongi brushes past them on his way downstairs, feeling his stomach flutter in countless butterflies. He is so excited at the aspect of seeing you soon.

The living room, with its conversation pit in the middle and a piano in the corner, isn’t far from where the stairs meet the ground floor. Yoongi passes more plants, antique furniture and countless pictures of you together. He walks past the threshold and stops.

You are playing the piano, swaying to the melodies.

You have your back turned to him so you haven’t noticed him yet. Yoongi doesn’t want to say anything yet, despite having craved the sound of your voice mere moments ago. The aspect of ruining your solace doesn’t sit right with him. So he listens to the music you create and looks at you with warmth in his dark brown eyes.

You are wearing nothing but your favourite morning rope. You are barefooted and so clearly haven’t done your hair yet. Yoongi thinks that you are beautiful. Perhaps even the most beautiful you ever were. But then, he thinks this way every time he sees you.

The melody you are playing is familiar to him. He plays it often. The thought that you picked it up so perfectly makes him feel so warm in his chest.

He thinks back to the time where he taught you how to play the piano and you were so terrible at it. He smiles to himself as his eyes follow your fingers. You have come so far. He is so proud of you.

The song ends. You pull your hands back and sigh.

He takes a step closer, opens his mouth and closes it again. Something holds him back, something that suddenly tells him not to ruin this perfect moment.

You place your fingers on the keys and begin playing again. The melody is familiar. It is warm and full of love. Yoongi composed it thinking of you. You know how to play it. He wasn’t aware of that. He touches the spot on his chest where he stores all his love for you.

He adores you. He treasures every second with you, worships every moment by your side. The sunlight floods the room, the plants seem so much greener and he knows that it is only because he is allowed to be with you because you make him see beauty in everything. His world was monotone once, but you turned multicolour. Yoongi swears that he would go through all his hardships again because it means that he would meet you at the end of them. He would crawl to the end of the earth and back again over and over until his knees and palms were raw if someone told him that this was the only way to keep what he has with you. And if the day ever comes where someone strikes him down, no grave will be deep enough to keep him from you for he will find a way to return home to you.

The song ends. You pull your hands from the keys and sigh. You touch the side of your neck and rub it. Yoongi aches to be the one to do it for you, to be the one to soothe the pain.

You drop your hand and look over your shoulder as if you suddenly felt his presence behind you.

Your eyes meet.

Not even one second passed and your face is already lit up. First your eyes, then your nose scrunches and last your mouth curls into a smile. You smile brightly and you smile perfectly. It is ethereal to him and lights up the room even more.

Yoongi feels his features morph into that of true happiness.

“Good morning, my love”, you say and Yoongi feels like falling to his knees and praying to your every word.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods his head.

“That’s good to hear. I made you coffee”, your smile grows, just as Yoongi’s love for you grows with it, “it’s on the window sill.”

Yoongi glances at the mug of coffee. You placed it so the sunlight would hit it and keep it warm. He looks back at you, feeling so entirely grateful for you.

“I didn’t know when you’d wake, so I kept it in the sunlight.”

“Thank you so much. I love it a lot.”

“Did you listen to me play?”

“I did.”

“How much of it?”

“Just two songs.”

“Oh dear, this is embarrassing”, you say and giggle, turning away from him.

Yoongi aches to be with you. He closes the distance in big steps and wraps his arms around you. You lean into him, rolling your head to the side in instinct because your body memorised the paths he takes most. First his arms cradle you in safety, then his soft lips remind the skin of your neck how loved you are.

Today is no different. Today, his soft lips adore your neck and end it with a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“It’s not embarrassing. You play so well”, he whispers.

The sound of his voice is more mesmerizing than any piece of music ever could be.

You reach up and caress his knuckles.

“Did you recognize the song?”

“I did.”

“What did you think of it?”

“I loved it”, he pulls you closer, caressing your cheeks with the tip of his nose, “you’re a dream, my love. The most wonderful of all.”

You giggle and turn in his arms as far as you can. Yoongi looks down at you while you look up at him with sparkly eyes and a blinding smile.

Yoongi retorts the smile, brushing his hands down your cheeks in the most delicate of ways. Your eyes close a little and you lean into his touch because your body internalised it. Oh how sweet it is to know that the things internalised and automised, are reactions to loving touch.

“You’re poetic today”, you say.

“Sunlight, music and your presence brings the poet out in me.”

“I love that it does”, you say and pull him close until you can kiss the velvety skin of his stomach.

Yoongi feels shivers run down his spine instantly. Only you get to do this to him. Only you get to give him kisses on his once most hated spot. Because only you made him love it.

You lift your head, resting your chin against his stomach this way.

“My little poet”, you whisper and smile.

He retorts it, caressing the crown of your head.

“Can I give you a kiss?” he asks.

You nod your head and close your eyes in sweet anticipation.

Yoongi leans down, cradling your face in both hands. Your lips meet. Your hands come to touch his neck and get lost in his hair.

Yoongi wouldn’t break the kiss on other days, he would want to get lost in it until neither of you can return. He would kiss you until your arms were hooked behind his back and you quietly begged to be taken into his arms. And then he would carry you safely to the sofa and kiss you there until your lips were tender. But this morning he breaks it because the only thing he craves more than feeling your kiss, was the sight of you. You smile at him, fluttering your lashes in a slow blink. He straightens up and so your hands slip to his waist instead. They rest above the hem of his pants. Your thumbs draw circles on his skin.

“My beloved”, he whispers, tracing your lips with a brush of his thumb.

Your smile grows.

He continues caressing parts of your face as you and he converse. Every touch is placed with utmost care and true love.

“Your hair looks cute”, you say.

“It’s a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yeah”, you say in a snicker, scrunching your nose, “I like it. You’re so handsome, my love.”

“Thanks. You’re so beautiful. I love this rope on you.”

“You do? I really like it. It’s my favourite.”

“It fits you so well.”

You giggle, “thank you.”

He pinches your cheek gently, “did you have breakfast already?” he asks you.

You shake your head, “no, just tea and then I sat down and couldn’t stop playing.”

“Should I start with breakfast?”

“If you really want to.”

“I do. What do you say to some eggs with tomatoes from the garden? Maybe an avocado toast to it with pepper?”

“I would love this.”

“Okay. I’ll start right away”, he says and tries to step away.

You however hug him closer.

“You have to pay a fee if you want to leave.”

“A fee?” he is chuckling.

“Mh-hm. A fee”, you say, nodding your head, “you have to give me kisses. There, there, there and there”, you say, pointing at spots on your face.

Yoongi smiles and cradles your face. You straighten up, opening your arm so he could bend down. Your eyes flutter closed in anticipation.

Yoongi kisses your forehead and you giggle.

Yoongi kisses the tip of your nose and you sigh his name.

Yoongi kisses your right cheek and he kisses your left cheek.

His fee is paid, however he adds a kiss to each of your eyelids as well, ending it with a kiss to your lips. The kind which truly carries adoration in its very taste.

He straightens up, you open your eyes slowly, smiling up at him.

“That was nice”, you whisper, “and too many fee-kisses.”

“Mhm”, he hums, pinching your chin gently, “it had to be done. The fees are rising, so I had to make an investment.”

He makes you laugh with the joke. Snort, to be more correct. He chuckles.

“You’re stupid”, you say fondly, nudging his stomach.

“Yeah, definitely”, he jokes and steps back, “I’ll get started now.”

“Okay. I want to play some more.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t stop you, my beloved princess.”

“Okay, so”, you giggle and turn so you could play again, “you have to use your vampire hearing for me please. I’ll pay you company as you cook.”

Yoongi smiles, “okay, my love. I will.”

The kitchen is exactly how you talked about together. Located at the sea-facing side of the house and with windows overlooking the ocean. The walls and ceiling are painted sky blue and the window frames a bright yellow. There is a blue door leading outside. The garden with its vegetable beds and fruit trees is just past a paved terrace. Both the door and the windows are open to let in fresh air.

Yoongi takes his apron from its spot and puts it on, covering his once bared torso this way. He ties a bow at the back and leaves for the garden afterwards. The melodies of the piano accompany him because he is keeping his promise to you and is using his supernatural hearing.

He squints his eyes at the light, shielding them by lifting his left hand to his brows. The tomato plants aren’t far and he can get the avocado on his way back, it would be a waste of time to get his sunglasses. He will simply hurry and keep shielding his own eyes.

You paved a way to the vegetable beds because you wanted to be able to walk barefoot without stepping into scrawny grasses and therefore hurting your feet. The stone feels warm under his soles and warms the toes he didn’t even realise were cold. The sunlight, despite hurting his eyes, feels very nice on his skin. Warm. He likes being warm.

Yoongi decides to get one tomato and some basil leaves for decoration. He stores both things in the front pocket of his apron and walks back up the path. He passes the avocado tree, deciding on getting one which looks especially ripe.

The song changes when he gets back to the kitchen. It is a song he taught you when you first started playing. It once sounded rough and wrong from your fingers, but sounds beautiful and so perfectly right these days. You even put your own colours into some of the notes, keeping Yoongi engaged because he feels excited for every single note and how you may play it. He listens to you actively while his hands prepare the food almost instinctively.

It feels meditative to Yoongi. There are only a few things which bring him more peace of mind than listening to your music and cooking for you. To experience both things simultaneously is truly how mornings should be.

The music stops for a moment, your voice replaces it.

“If you’re listening, I love you”, you say quietly and then begin playing again.

Yoongi swears that for only a second, his heart actually fluttered. His lips curl into a giddy smile, his eyes lower shyly. If he could, he would kick his feet right now. But instead he treats the food he prepares for you with just as much love as he treats you. He slices the tomato most carefully, mixes the avocado most tenderly and cooks the eggs with lovely respect. He spreads the wonderfully spiced avocado cream on two slices of perfectly toasted bread, then blankets it with the eggs and the tomato. He puts a basil leaf as decoration and then the melody already ends again.

A new one starts, accompanying him as he makes his way back to you.

“I love you too. You know?” he enters the living room.

You flinch, the piano falls silent.

“Oh?”

“You scared me”, you say, turning on the chair.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. Wow Boongie, is breakfast done already?”

“Yeah. I think I was faster because you played so well.”

You snicker, “you’re saying things”, you murmur and stand up to meet him in the middle. You take the plate from him, “wow look at that. This looks so yummy.”

“I decorated it”, he says, following you to the conversation pit.

“I can see that. It looks so pretty. Did you get your coffee?”

“Ah yeah, almost forgot.”

You get comfortable in the meantime, waiting with your first bite until Yoongi is seated next to you.

“And?” he asks, gazing at your lips as you chew.

“It’s so good. I love it so much”, you tell him and take another bite.

Yoongi smiles softly, “good. That’s good”, he says quietly and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“I’m glad. Is it still warm?”

“It’s perfect to me”, he assures you and leans in to kiss your cheek, “thank you for making it, my love.”

“No, I gotta thank you. You always cook such yummy things for me and I really appreciate that you do.”

“I like it. Yeah, it makes me happy.”

“I’m glad that it does. Eating your food makes me happy too.”

He nods his head in understanding and places his hand on your knee to caress it gently. He tilts his head to the side, running his eyes over your face.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him because his intense gaze flusters you.

“Just thinking.”

“Do you want to share it with me?”

He cups your cheek and kisses your lips softly. He pulls back with a caress to your philtrum.

“It’s a good life, you know?”

“A good life?”

“Yeah, life with you. It’s a good life.”

“Yoongi…oh my love, you’re so full of love. Gosh, come here and let me kiss you.”

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vampirevatican · 2 months

Text

Bedtime in the House of Lamentation

pairing: om! brothers x reader

summary: you have a special sleep speaker that changes colors. they check in on your room when they hear noise at night, but it's not you and they find a lone light glowing their nail color or power

Lucifer - blue/red

classical music, but it's the chill kind... ya know the ones you can fall asleep to

fave songs but piano version

white noise

This was one of the nights he does his rounds of the house. Making sure his brothers, Mammon, weren't out causing trouble for him to deal with later. Being the eldest, when he does these check-ins, he'd just open the door and then leave the bedroom resident to whatever they were doing. He never thoroughly checked a room unless something suspicious was going on, or he's heard rumors regarding the resident and their bedroom.

So when he finally gets to the first floor he notes that there's a faint sound of classical music. He ends up at the front of your door and without a second thought he opens the door and is met with the speaker glowing, music flowing from it and your sleeping form.

It seems you tried to pull an all-nighter. Your phone still in your hand, covers not properly covering you, but sleeping so peacefully. A small smirk appears on his lips as he pulls the covers over you, making sure you don't get a cold, and then leaves the room. Maybe he'd need to get not cursed records and finish work earlier so you can fall asleep together.

Mammon - white/yellow

r&b. look me in the eyes and tell me he's not black. go on, yeah that's what i thought.

jazz... now hear me out, casino things

continuing casino stuff, casino ambience

When hears the faint sound of slot machines in the House of Lamentation he's in a whiplash of excited and confused. Didn't he just leave the casino? And there's no way in west devildom that Lucifer agreed to him wanting a mini casino in the house. So naturally he follows the sound and hopes for the later.

But no, it's coming from... your room?! Quickly opening the door he finds a small speaker emitting a light and your phone, charging, right next to it. "Casino ambience..." he whispers reading the title of the video in your phone screen after getting closer to it.

Awww his human missed him, well it's only right that he adds to this bedtime immersion by slipping into bed with you. Crawling into the bed with you, holding you close, he notices you almost stir awake and the small smile on your face. Damn, could you possibly be any cuter right now?! He rubs your back and soothes you back into your deep sleep and soon drifts off as well.

Leviathan - purple/orange

gamer lets plays are playing through the speaker

or maybe a game ost that has sleepy/chill vibes

acnh w/ rain background anyone?

He had left his room for a food break between gaming. He had a few raids and team rounds to do, but right now refueling was more important. That's when he hears something near the kitchen. Putting down his cup noodles he follows the sound and finds it coming from your room.

There was a faint light glowing from the crack in the door and it wasn't the usual bright yellow from the lanterns and fairy lights in the room. Pressing his ear to the door he recognizes the music being one of your cozy games. Gaining no answer from knocking on your door, or calling out to you, he opens the door and instantly covers his mouth. 'Oh my gosh they're so cute! WAIT NO THIS IS CREEP BEHAVIOR!! but...' He practically tip toes into your room and sees the speaker.

Doing a double take he leaves your room as quickly and quietly as possible... after a picture of you with the speaker's light on you first though... you're just too pretty and it's too heart-warming to know when you don't or cant sleep in his room, because you can't sleep, this is how you remedy it.

satan - green

or maybe r/no sleep, r/aita, r/dndhorrorstories, buzzfeeds are you scared

cat radio... no really cat fm

book readings

He's used to you falling asleep while reading to you, or when you'd spend time with him just to fall asleep on his lap waiting for him to finish his books. And yes he'd go cat watching with you. Even plotting to adopt a few if you both ever got the okay from Lucifer. Though he wouldn't have guessed things like that extend to you getting a good night's rest.

This particular night he was entranced by a book in the library when he heard... meowing? Though it wasn't normal meows, it was to the tune of some song. He knows that cats are known to sing sometimes but since when did either of you sneak one into the house? Following the sound he soon realizes that it's some kind of recording because what's next is a narration of a book he's read before.

Noticing the green glow from under the door he decides to check in on you and sees you knocked out. The sound of a narrator, close to his tone of voice, reading you a story as you dreamt away. He couldn't help but smile as a warm feeling took over his heart. To think you needed to hear him, or someone like him, read stories for you to properly sleep was too sweet to bare. He quietly closes the door and heads off to bed for the night.

asmo - pink

meditation or ocean sounds

true crime, makeup or both

honestly smthn that'd be trendy and recommended for sleep

First of all, he didn't expect for you to go to bed so early. Usually he's the one with an early bedtime but tonight was an exception. There was a party he was invited to and he couldn't just ignore his adoring fans.

So when he came back and heard a sleep meditation coming from your room, his curiosity gets the better of him. He decides to take a peek into your room and has to hold back a squeal over how you look sleeping. When it comes to beauty only you could rival him, and this even counts when you're sleeping!

His eyes follow where the faint pink glow is coming from and surprise! it's your little speaker. He can't help admire you and be glad you took up one of his trends. You really do care! Of course he does his bedtime routine and then cuddles up in bed with you. The pink mood lighting and how peaceful it is was just too hard to resist.

beel - red/orange

lullaby music, or 80's rock songs in music box style

podcast

snoring sounds

Beel is known for his late night kitchen rummages. Infact he got used to you not stopping him but helping by joining in or just keeping him company, you'd rarely scold him for his late night rampages. Though tonight you were no where to be found.

When he first passed by your bedroom it was relatively quiet, so he figured you were asleep. Not being able to eat how he usually would, concerned over your absence, he took only a couple snacks and checked on your room again before going back to his.

This time he notices a music box playing and a light coming from under the door. He peeks through a crack in the door he makes from opening it a little, and notices you sleeping. He smiles warmly and the grin becomes bigger when he sees where the light and sound is coming from. You and Belphie slept the same, covered with blankets and surrounded by pillows. It was endearing and he couldn't help but curl up in your room that night with his snacks.

belphie - purple/teal

fave songs but it's in music box style

asmr, and it's like a muffled city, keyboard typing, or rainy day, with music from another room

lofi

Being the Avatar of Sloth, he didn't have to go to you room to see how you were sleeping. Though you did peak his curiosity a little when he heard lofi music coming from your room. Surely you couldn't be so diligent, or a nerd, that you'd be studying at this time of night. Turns out his suspicion was correct, you weren't studying.

He was currently a by-stander of your dreams tonight and he takes note of how he appears in them. It wasn't like he was fully in your dream, no dream self to speak of, but instead things you associated with him.

Taking his powers a bit further he astral projects and finds himself right by your bed. A glow of light seems to pass through his spirit form and looking over he finds where it's coming from, along with what's making your dreams what they are. Smiling a little he looks over at your sleeping form, a bit of your face peeking out from the mass of covers, and notices that you're smiling too. "Cute." He whispers and decides to insert himself into your dreams. You wanted him so bad then fine, he'll be there.

#omswd #obey me! swd #obey me x reader #om! lucifer #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor

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leclercss · 10 months

Text

Tainted Love, Part 3 (Charles Leclerc ft. Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: thanks so much for all of your positive feedback so far. really happy that you guys are enjoying this story. i'm hoping my creative juices stay flowing but in the mean time, let's talk about the husband (ifykyk).

word count: 3.7k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader

What time shall I pick you up? x

Baby, I think we need to talk about yesterday x

Call me when you're awake okay? Love you x

You're currently standing in Charles' kitchen as your eyes scan the unread messages that your husband has sent through the night. You're not sure what you think or how you feel about the messages.

It's the first time since you arrived at Charles' apartment that Lewis has even crossed your mind. You're telling yourself that you should feel some guilt as he's starting to sound a little desperate with his messages but you mostly just miss the feeling of Charles.

It's currently 06:10. You haven't slept much throughout the night, probably about thirty minutes altogether. You and Charles had been keeping each other busy and awake. You'd spent a decent amount of time pleasuring one another. Charles' head had spent a considerable amount of time between your thighs. You had returned the favour to Charles by pleasuring him with your mouth, switching between slow and sensual blowjobs to Charles basically fucking your mouth. This was in between you guys trying out different positions with each other - Charles had loved fucking you from behind but he loved seeing you on top of him more, riding him as your boobs bounced in his face. You'd also spent a lot of time having intimate sex, softly kissing one another and running your hands all over each other's bodies as he moved in and out of you.

But your favourite moments were the ones where you lay on each other, limbs intertwined talking about life. You'd come to learn about each other's lives - about your similarities and your differences. Both of your fathers had passed away when you were in your mid-to-late teens. You both had a love for travelling. Charles was a talented piano player, you could barely play the triangle. You were both silly and playful with one another but compassionate and open to learning more about the person laying in their arms.

It was clear you had a connection but how deep this went, only time would tell.

As you stand in the kitchen, your body covered in one of Charles' t-shirts, which happened to be of Ferrari, your eyes go back to the texts on your phone. How and when do you respond to them?

You'd always thought that if you ever took the opportunity to sleep with someone else other than Lewis you'd have been filled with guilt and regret. But here you stood in another man's apartment, spending the last 5 hours of your life having sex with him and telling him your life story. Lewis was an afterthought.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice behind you takes you out of your thoughts. It has caused you to jump a little both from the surprise but also from the fact that it doesn't belong to Charles. You turn to see one of his friends standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest looking at you. You think this one is Hugo.

"Erm, yeah, I guess. I thought I'd take the chance to check my phone. Charles is currently asleep," you respond.

"You're checking to see if your husband has messaged right?"

You're a little taken aback by his question but you answer him out of politeness. "I hadn't checked my phone since I got here last night. Just checking in on life".

The conversation has taken you by surprise, especially at this hour. You're vague with your answer, not really wanting to dive into a conversation about what you're going to say to your husband after you've been fucking somebody else for the whole night. Especially with someone whose name you can barely remember.

"That's not what I asked, but okay".

His bluntness causes you to frown. You don't want to find yourself in an interrogation over something that's none of his business so you grab your phone and handbag and start to make your way back to Charles' room. But before you make your way down the hall, his voice stops you in your tracks.

"It's nothing personal, by the way. But you're a married woman, who's been having sex with my friend all night," his voice is a little softer this time. "Charles seems unfazed by the fact that you're married but it'd be strange if I didn't have questions. I'm just looking out for my friend".

You turn your head slightly to nod, acknowledging him with a half smile before making your way back to Charles.

You quietly make your way into his room, placing your phone and handbag onto his bedside table before climbing back into bed. You lay your head on his chest and begin to make yourself comfortable when you hear a voice beneath you.

"Mmm... you're back," Charles utters. "Thought you'd sneaked out and left me".

You smile as you tilt your head so you're looking up at him. He's looking down at you, his eyes looking like he could fall back asleep at any moment although he doesn't seem to mind that you've woken him up as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his if it was even possible.

"I was just getting some water in the kitchen before getting my bag and phone," you tell him before placing a couple of kisses on his chest.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispers as his eyes slowly close with a smile plastered on his face. He's about to fall back asleep but he manages to tell you one more thing, "by the way, you look so sexy in my Ferrari top".

You can't help but smile at him before he drifts back to sleep. You stare up at him for a moment, mesmerised by his beauty before laying your head on his chest once more and finally closing your eyes for some well-needed sleep.

The feeling of something hard against your thigh was enough to take you out of your slumber. You let out a little groan as the world starts to come back to you. As you have a quick look over your shoulder, you notice that Charles is well and truly awake. His body is pressed against you from behind and the something hard is his penis erect against you.

"Morning, baby," he whispers in your ear and it's you feel a butterfly in your stomach.

"Mmm... Morning Charles," you mumble as you place your hand on top of the one that he has spread across your stomach.

Charles is clearly eager to feel you up and get back down to business as he's beginning to gently grope at your skin and he lightly thrusts his hips against you so his dick is rubbing you. Your hand reaches back so you can run your fingers through his hair but it's not enough for him. He's impatient and ready to fuck you.

"[Y/N], I want you," he growls into your ear before he begins to lick and suck on your skin just below. You're not putting up much of a defence as one of his knees is pushing your legs open so he has better access to the part of you he's so badly craving.

You're already so wet for him as he starts to rub circles on your clit and a soft moan escapes your lips as you lean further back against his chest.

"Mmmm, that feels good," your voice is delicate as the last of the sleep leaves your body.

Charles clearly isn't in the mood to play around as you feel him push his dick against your slit. He pushes it lightly past your folds and thrusts a couple of time.

"Ohh... Charles," you groan with pleasure.

You feel his breath against your ear, he's panting lightly. Clearly ready, you lower your hand that's still on top of Charles' on your stomach and place it between your legs. You don't hesitate as you use your hand to push his dick inside of you. You both moan simultaneously as he begins to fill you.

He wastes no more time and begins to thrust inside of you immediately. He's spent so much time inside of you that your body needs no time to adjust. You're already moaning for him as he's building his speed inside of you rapidly.

"Oh my god!" you cry as he's starting to pound you from behind. The hand in his hair is now pulling at the strands as you're trying not to moan so loudly but it's a difficult task when he's already fucking you this hard and this fast.

"Charles, don't stop" you moan as you dig your nails into the arm that's wrapped around you. You don't need to tell him to keep going, his pace is still relentless.

"You look so sexy when I'm fucking you like this, amour," he pants in your ear as he started to grope at your boobs that are still covered in his Ferrari t-shirt.

You're basically whimpering in his arms at this point. His pace hasn't faltered once and his stamina is admirable. He's just pounding into you from behind, sending your body into overdrive.

"Please," you don't know what you're saying please for exactly. He takes this as a sign to pleasure you even further as his free hand makes his way down to your clit and he begins to rub circles. Your clit is so swollen and sensitive that just feeling his slightest touch is causing you to hiss.

It's another couple of minutes of Charles pounding the life out of you from behind and you can feel your orgasm fast approaching. He senses this and picks up the pace with your clit, driving you even closer to your orgasm.

"Charles, please," you beg him. The assault on you is almost too much to handle.

"[Y/N], I want to feel you cum for me." You're not sure if it's a command but you soon hit your peak and cry out as your orgasm hits you in waves.

Charles continues to fuck you through your high as he's now fast approaching his own climax. He's so lost in fucking you that he almost pulls out too late before he's spilling his cum onto your thigh, grunting in the process.

"Merde!"

His body finally relaxes around you as he lays on his back. You're still recovering from your orgasm when you feel his fingers gently tracing along your spine.

"Amour, that was incredible," he whispers as he's still catching his breath. You finally find the energy to roll over and lay your head against his chest.

"It was," you whisper as you lay a peck on his chest and shut your eyes, taking in this feeling.

It was hard to say goodbye to Charles but you knew that at some point you had to return home. To return to your husband.

After having a shower with Charles, where you used it as one last opportunity to touch and grope one another, you realised that you'd left your spare clothes and bag at Whitney's. Deciding that you weren't ready to rock up at her house in another man's clothes, you made the decision to wear one of Charles' t-shirts and pair of shorts back home and you'd pick up your bags later. You knew she'd have questions about your dancing and kiss with Charles last night.

A kiss you could explain, but rocking up in random clothes when you told her you'd gone home was going to be a lot harder to talk your way out of.

As you sat in the Uber heading back to your apartment, you remembered how you had left Charles with a passionate kiss and a promise that you'd see each other again soon.

Despite the many hours you had spent with Charles, you still weren't 100% sure of how "open relationships" truly worked. And you were beginning to think of the questions you were going to get from Lewis when you rocked up in Charles' clothes.

The thing is, what could he say to you? You hadn't broken the rules you had agreed when you accepted the terms of the open marriage:

No friends, no friends of friends, no colleagues, no ex-colleagues, no falling in love and no pregnancies. Basically, there was to be no evidence or trace left behind to spare the other's feelings. God, how did you buy into this bullshit idea?

But one thing you had never agreed on or discussed was the possibility of sleeping with the same person more than one time - unless it was with each other.

Reality was starting to sink in and you were beginning to realise that you had just as many questions about all of this as you predicted Lewis would have when you finally made it home.

"Hey babe, am I allowed to fuck the same guy over and over again?"

As much as you originally hated this whole arrangement and had told yourself you wouldn't partake in this open marriage, you were beginning to realise that you were getting yourself into dangerous territory. This wasn't your game to play but now you couldn't help yourself. You'd had the taster with Charles and you'd be going back for a second course.

Or a third, or fourth, or fifth.

Shit! You tell yourself to get it together, you're about 10 minutes away from home and you notice that Lewis still hasn't replied to your text saying that you were on the way home. But he's read the text. Based on how constant his texts were last night, you knew he was going to be pissed if he hasn't replied.

Before pulling up outside your apartment building, you send a text to Whitney asking if you could call by at some point to pick up your things before the weekend was up. This could be your excuse to leave if things got heated with Lewis again.

You make your way into your apartment building and say a little prayer to yourself before facing what you expect to be the wrath of your husband.

"Yeah, well how many girls have you fucked?"

That was going to be your argument if things got heated. Surely that was enough, right?

You take a deep breath as you begin to open your front door and make your way inside. It's quiet.

You shut the door and make your way into the living room, not really sure whether to call out Lewis' name to let him know that you're home or to basically sneak in and get changed out of Charles' clothes as soon as possible.

Your choice is made for you as you see Lewis sprawled across the couch with his eyes completely glued to his phone. The British bulldog which you share, Roscoe, is lying by his side.

"Hey," your voice is so quiet you're not sure if Lewis hears you as he's still tapping away on his phone. But he must have decided to ignore you as Roscoe lifts his head at the sound of your voice and pants with excitement as he sees you standing in the doorway. He climbs off of Lewis and makes his way over to you, running around your feet.

"Hey cutie," you giggle as you lean down to hug and pet him.

After a moment of playing with Roscoe, you look over at Lewis to see if he's looking away from his phone yet. He's not. He's still tapping furiously at his phone. His tongue slightly poking out from the side and his eyebrows are crossed.

"Hey, Lew," you say. You stand up and the dog at your feet makes his way back to Lewis on the sofa, placing himself by Lewis' feet.

"Nice to know that someone knows how to come back to me, hey Roscoe," Lewis grunts. He's still looking at his phone.

So this was going to be his attitude? You try not to roll your eyes, knowing that if Lewis catches it his passive-aggressive attitude will only worsen.

"Nice to see you too," you mumble as you sit down on one of the armchairs as you look over to Lewis.

He's silent for a few moments, still tapping away. You want to take the phone out of his hand but that idea is put on hold as he speaks his first words to you since returning home.

"Good night?"

That was it?

"Erm, yeah, it was," you could barely hear your own voice. Now that he was speaking to you, all of the confidence you had in the Uber has left your body.

"Yeah, must have been a good one," he continues. He locks his phone and places it on his stomach so he can finally look at you. And when he does, his dark brown eyes feel like they're staring into your soul. "I can tell it was a good one because you've turned up in someone else's clothes".

Shit.

"Even though you brought a bag with you last night. You stayed at Whitney's right?"

You gulp. You're royally fucked.

"We went back to someone else's for afters," you tell him. I mean, it wasn't really a lie? You did go to someone else's for afters.

"And you didn't go back to Whitney's to get your stuff before coming here?" He's staring at you still. You're not sure if his expression is one of amusement or anger.

"Erm, no... the place was closer to here than to Whitney's," you lie.

He starts laughing. He's actually laughing at you.

"Okay, [Y/N]. You don't need to embarrass yourself with these lies. If you went back to someone else's house and fucked him just say it," he chuckles.

But you don't say anything. Your nerves are growing by the second and you're not sure if you want to pass out or throw up as the conversation is developing. He has some nerve. All of the times he's slept with someone behind your back and he's sitting here laughing at you.

But he doesn't laugh for much longer as his facial expression turns.

"I said say it!" the tone of his voice shocks you and you're no longer confused about the expression in his eyes. He's furious. You're pretty sure the only reason he hasn't shouted at you is to stop Roscoe from barking like mad. The poor dog went crazy when you and Lewis were screaming at each other the other day.

You're not really sure what your next move will be. You're trying to hear your own thoughts but your heart is beating so loudly that it's basically thumping in your ears. You can't think. All you can do is just look at Lewis who's anger and frustration with you is growing by the second.

"You really can't say it huh?" he scoffs before picking himself off the sofa and storming into the kitchen. Roscoe follows suit.

You take a moment before you go after him. You're not sure why you decide to follow him. Curiosity? Stupidity? God knows but you both know the conversation isn't finished.

You walk into Lewis slamming pots and pans around as if he's attempting to make something but all he's doing is causing chaos and poor Roscoe is following him helplessly and confused.

"Go away, [Y/N]".

You let out a sigh as your eyes follow your husband's movements.

"Lewis, can you just stop for a second?" you plead with him but your plea falls on deaf ears.

"What part of go away do you not understand?"

This time you can't help but scoff, growing tired of his antics. After the way he's treated you for the last eighteen months, something inside of you is telling you to finally grow some balls.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You've slept with how many women during our marriage and you're mad at me?" you cry out.

Your eyes are still on Lewis. His hands are gripping onto the counter, his back turned away from you. His fingers are going white with the pressure and tension he's putting on them. "It's not the same thing!"

You scoff again and you're surprised it doesn't cause Lewis to lose it altogether but he's using every restraint in his body not to shout at you.

You want to tell him to fuck off at his hypocrisy. You agreed to this bullshit situation for him and he's the one that's pissed?

"How is it not the same thing?"

This time your voice is louder. You're digging your nails into your hands to stop you from screaming. He doesn't answer you.

You give him another couple of seconds. He says nothing. You notice his body is starting to shake. But you don't care, you're going to push his buttons with your newfound confidence, "Oh! Now you're the one who doesn't want to answer?"

It's almost like you want him to break. You want to push his buttons so hard for him to snap at you. To show that he actually gives an ounce of crap about you.

Roscoe's now barking at the tension in the room. Lewis is still quiet. Still looking away from you.

How has he not snapped yet?

The tension in the room is like a pressure cooker. Ready to explode at any moment.

"Lew-"

"You're wearing his fucking clothes!" His outburst is met with his palms hitting the countertop with pure rage.

He's finally snapped. He finally turns to face you and you have never seen him look so angry. At least not when it came to you.

"You fucked him? Fine! But you broke a fucking rule," his voice is so loud that even Roscoe has stopped barking out of shock.

You say nothing. You just look at him. His chest is rising and falling dramatically. His eyes are almost black with anger and he's now gripping onto his braids to somehow stop himself from doing something stupid.

He's not done. "You barely answer your phone after we've had the biggest argument of our relationship. You stroll in here at 1:30 in the afternoon as if you haven't been gone for almost two days already and you don't even have the decency to change into your own clothes? And you're here, wearing his clothes as if it's some fucking achievement that you've finally shagged someone else. Well, congratulations!"

Silence.

You don't really know what to say. You're not sure if you want to nominate him for an Oscar or burst into tears. Instead, you just look at him, stunned into silence.

Lewis finally makes the first move as he walks towards the doorway, towards you. He's about to pass you but he stops right in front of you, this time he's no longer looking at you as if he's ashamed of you. Like a parent who's disappointed in their child.

"I may have started this whole thing but you've brought a piece of him into our home," he growls before walking past you.

You've broken a rule.

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