Rooster X Reader Where Hes Just Absolutely Whipped From This Woman, Completely Wrapped Around Her Finger

Rooster x reader where hes just absolutely whipped from this woman, completely wrapped around her finger and hangman and stuff finds it fucking hilarious.

Bradley joins his friends barefoot, with a pink purse slung over his shoulder.

"Rooster," Coyote looks him up and down, sees the pom-pom keychain dangling from the bag, "You look.. different."

"It's like you joined a hippie ring and a cheerleading squad all at once," Natasha snorts against the mouth of her beer bottle.

Bob doesn't tease him about the purse that he sets down beside the man on the bench, but he does give it an odd sort of stare-down.

"Bradshaw," Jake drawls, "If you need a bag, next time just ask me. I've got a thousand shitty drawstring ones from the marathons I jog."

Of course, Bradley thinks, Hangman brags. But no matter how many marathons Jake has stormed his way through, he's the real winner.

"This is my girlfriend's," Bradley drawls, taking particular satisfaction in the way that Jake's face pales, "She's taking pictures of the sunset. And her shoes were giving her a blister, so she borrowed mine, thank you very much."

"'Surprised you didn't swap shoes with her," Hangman recovers, sneering at Bradley's bare, sandy feet, "What was she wearing, heels?"

"Wedges," Bradley grunts, "And if you even think about messing with her, I'll wedge one up your ass."

Enchanted | Remus Lupin x reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : Remus is the starlight to your night sky.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢꜱ : anxious reader, fem!reader, social anxiety , hurt/comfort, mutual pining, a pinch of angst, alcohol intake, post hogwarts-marauders era.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 1.9k

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ : I'm in happy tears, i finally wrote something after whole friggin' four months. I think I'm back.

“Oh come on, stop fooling us ,we all know about you and Frank.” Marlene comments on something Alice was saying. “Isn't it y/n?”

“Hmm?” you ask, feeling slightly embarrassed since you didn't listen to what they're talking about, but you fake it with your ever working “yea-yeah totally.”

The girls get back to laughing and drinking, while you stand there with forced laughter and a bright fake smile on your face.

You don't like parties, they really stress you out, trying to pretend to do human conversation stresses you out but staying alone with your own thoughts and sulking in a corner of your dorm wasn't really a good idea so you chose to be a big girl and fake it to be confident and funny and witty even though in reality you were none of them.

Your tired eyes flicker across the liquor counter and you catch a glimpse of that one face that makes your heart stutter everytime you look at it. Remus, with James and Sirius standing next to him as always, for a change he is in a sage green jacket today. Gorgeous as ever. Few strands of his sandy blonde hair kissing his forehead , a bright smile on his face as he talks to Sirius. 

Suddenly James glances towards you which causes Sirius and Remus to look towards you too. His brown eyes crinkling as he looks at you with a small pleasant smile. But maybe he's not looking at you, you wonder if he even remembered you.

Yes. You know him, he used to be your classmate, you and him even got paired up for potions in your fifth year (this is when you fell hardly in love with him) and if it counts you have exchanged few hi-hellos at Marlene's parties too which makes you and him fairly acquainted. But that's it. That's what you are to Remus. An acquaintance, still you can't help the flutter in your heart whenever he passes by you or simply looks at you, just like it used to whenever your eyes would meet while laughing at James's clownery in Mcgonagall's class. 

Enchanted. That's what you are, with the way he talks, the way he walks, the way he smiles, his quiet and loving nature, his way of seeing the world. You fancy everything that makes him-Remus.

Your heart picks up a different rhythm as he starts to make his way to you. 

God is he really coming to you? Not bloody likely.

You think and look around to see if he's approaching someone else and you're just making up fake scenarios in your head.

And—as per the guess he looks at Lily instead, even though you guessed it to happen still this was embarrassing since in the back of your mind you're also wishing him to actually come and talk to you.

And why can't you ever go and say a hi? Because everytime you think of doing that your heart hammers in your chest, your breathing falters and the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of him starts to creep in and you turn back on your heels.

In a nutshell you're a coward.

Rest of the time goes in a blur until Marlene announces to shift the party indoors for drinking games and edibles.

You try your best and hover on the border but it starts getting tougher than you thought as Mary, Dorcas and even Lily leave you on your own, not intentionally though. One drink led to another and another and all your friends got too drunk to acknowledge a little old you who isn't much of a drinker.

The itching in your brain makes you do that one thing you always do when your social battery drains to zero. 

That is— sneaking out. 

The late night breeze gently blows and you take a sigh of relief. It's freedom. There's something about loneliness you still can't decide, whether it's your Ally or your enemy it's a matter still to be pondered upon. But right now it's a relief to be far away from the expectant eyes, so much better than facing people, than having to look intelligent and funny and all sorts of things you know you are not and having to pretend the opposite. 

The distance turning the thrumming music into a quiet melody, the lyrics just as indistinguishable as you make your way to the patio.

------

The ice in your peach flavoured hurricane melts making your drink more watery than it already was. The rum casting a film over your mood, keeping your loneliness and dropping you into a total dolor. 

The playlist has started over many songs. And you've no clue how many anymore.

The breeze blows, but this time not so gently and in a way that makes you shiver. It's all muddled in your head, the heaviness inside you, the alertness is still there, your emotions are still the same.

You want to cry.

The leaves rustle as footsteps swipe through the grass ,making you flinch slightly.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.” Remus smiles, his voice tired. Harsh light of the bonfire sharpening the bags under his eyes into dark creases. 

“It's the breeze.” that's a half lie, goosebumps rising on your wrist, standing fine the hairs on the end. Only few licks of the heat from the pit touching your knees, leaving the rest of you cold in your grey sweatshirt. 

“Can I join you?” Remus asks, you notice a ratty blanket in his arms.

“Sure.” you shrug, slightly anxious.

You stiffen your back when instead of sitting somewhere far he chooses to join you on the bench, tossing the blanket over your knees.

“you're cold, right?” he says, you blink twice before realising you were staring at him. 

“Uh-yeah a little.” you reply touching your knees up to your chin and curl the blanket around your arms.

Your senses tingling raw at having someone nearby, again. You don't have anything to say, you hardly ever have.

The blanket is ruggedy in your hands as you rub your thumbs over it, focusing your attention over the uneven texture instead of Remus being so close to you. The uneasiness still fresh, still coiled taut as springs, though it's not getting any tighter but they aren't losing either.

“How long have you been out here?” Remus' speaks suddenly, his shoulder touches yours and you flinch slightly. 

“Uh” You don't know. “Not that long.” 

He nods, pushing more of the blanket in your lap. He knows you're lying. He knows what it's like. The awkwardness around people, he understands the things you can't explain but feel. 

It's the first time he's talking to you properly, credit goes to James who suggested this whole scheme of inviting you. Even though they all were not quite sure about you actually attending it, since you usually prefer your hermity life which Remus understands completely, he's the same after all.

On your end, you're suddenly so aware of everything around you, your shoulders hunched nearly to your ear with your arms clenched to your side.

There's an awkward silence between you two and you can't help but wonder what exactly has drawn Remus from the party.

“clear night,” Remus clears his throat. “ don't get to see much of the stars in the city, it's beautiful, isn't it?”

You raise your eyes from the fire and look up in the sky, bright pinpricks decorating the gradient of blue.

“Indeed,” your eyes light up as you speak, you never really had a specific reason why stars are one of your timeless interests, but they surely do hold a specific space in your heart. 

“There's Cassiopeia.” he says, pointing just about the treeline around the fence. 

“You know constellations?” you ask, happy to know you've something in common. 

“Some.” He replies, softly. “ Cassiopeia is one fascinating myth.”

“Where is it?” you ask, though you know exactly where it is.

Remus glances at you leaning closer so that his fingers could match your gaze.

Your shoulder knocks to his own, his hair touching the side of your face. He's never ever been this close, with a galloping heart you watch his finger move up and down and then down and up tracing a cow eyed W in the sky.

“There she is,” he tells you, and you look at the said constellation, enthralled with the beauty just the same as it does everytime you look at the sky. “ You know in Greek mythology, she was the most beautiful woman.....” 

Your eyes fixed at him the whole time as he talks, his low voice rumbling into your tired bones and yet you want to listen, hell you don't want to be anywhere but here, with him, talking about how Poseidon got angry with Cassiopiea and cursed her. 

You hum and curl deeper into the blanket, sleep threatening your eyelid to close.  

“How are you doing, now?” Remus asks, after sometime. 

You look at him confused. 

“You'd been out here for over an hour.” he tells you. “ Your eyes looked distant and glassy back there.” 

‘Oh’ you intone. You didn't realise it to be this long. 

“You don't have to tell me, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“No-no I'm okay, I just don't do well in crowds.” you tell him, truthfully. 

“Didn't realise you noticed me leave.” you say and then immediately regret.

And that's exactly what he feared you'd think.

Every time he thought he could talk to you, something in him stopped him, he didn't know how to act around you, you affected him in ways no one ever has, and this is why he turned to his only hope - Lily for help. Though she wasn't much help since all she advised him was to man up and talk to you about anything he wants. 

And talking about stars was the best he could come up with.

“uh- i mean we never really talk that much so i thought- i wasn't the type you'd hangout with” 

“I-I'm really sorry if I ever made you feel like I intentionally never talk to you.” he says.

“No- i didn't mean that-” you stumble yourself. “i was just-” 

“I know you don't mean that, it's just that I would never want to give that impression to anybody- especially you.”

You don't know what to say, the anxiety from earlier that had been buzzing through you had kept you awake while thoroughly draining you. You'd hardly realised just how tired you are until now, with your body not the feeling settled but heavy. The stress running through you and now you're bearing fatigue. 

Remus glances at you out of the corner of his eyes. “You look exhausted.” 

“You should never tell a girl that she looks exhausted.” you retort, your first little grin curving along your lips.

“Noted.” To his surprise he smiles too. “You should rest for a little while.” he says, patting his shoulder.

You hate how your brain fails to trust as you look up at him, searching for anything like petty, obligation or even impatience, but what you find is just an enormous amount of openness and pretty shades of brown.

“Will you tell me more about stars?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder.

Remus smiles once again looking up to the stars, he starts another tale.

You subconsciously snuggle onto his shoulder, body drawing closer to him, his voice lulling you to sleep.

You dreamed about space. 

hiiii!!! can u do a valentine’s day angsty post where james and y/n are in a secret relationship because she’s a hufflepuff but he flirts with lily and gets her flowers on valentines so he doesn’t cause suspicion u get upset and cry and break up with him and he tries to win u back but remus gets u flowers and kinda helps u get over james??🤭🤭🤭 if u don’t wanna do this it’s totally okay!! love ur work<3

Secrecy:

A/N: This was so painful to write. But, it was also super fun.

Summary: You love James Potter and would do anything for him, including keeping your relationship an absolute secret. However, he may not feel the same.

Pairing: James Potter x Hufflepuff!reader, Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!reader

w/c: 3600+

Masterlist

Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <3

The room of requirements had a lot of uses.

“Jamie, stop it!” you giggled as your boyfriend peppered your face with kisses. He pulled away grinning, “What? I’ve missed you!” 

You shook your head, a sad smile taking over the grin you’d had before. “You wouldn’t have to miss me, if people knew about us,” you said, your hands fixing his hair, and adjusting his glasses. “If at least your friends knew,” you added, now fixing your own robes.

James closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “We’ve talked about this n/n,” he whined, cupping your face. His eyes searched yours, “I-I’ve told you, they can’t know.”

You shook your head, “You’ve never told me why, James.” You pulled his hands away from your face, bending down to pick up your bag, the next period would start soon. You tried to ignore how your chest tightened.

When James didn’t respond, bending down to pick his own bag up, you sighed. Everytime over the past few months that you’d had this conversation, it ended the same way. Sometimes, you wondered, if he was embarrassed of you, but it made no sense, because all of his friends loved hanging out with you.

Or so you thought. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

“I-I just need you to trust me,” he said softly, adjusting his bag straps. You just stared at him blankly. It was scary how used to this you were by now. 

“Right,” you whispered, before stepping past him and leaving.

He didn’t follow you. He never did.

When James had first told you he liked you, he’d also mentioned a need to keep it private. You’d wholeheartedly agreed at first, maybe he just didn’t want his friends all over the two of you. However, that didn’t make sense either. Sirius had openly teased the both of you on some occasions, when James had one too many drinks, and got a little too touchy around you. 

Of course, it happened only when he was drunk.

As days turned into weeks, you started wondering if he ever planned on telling at least his friends. He never got too close to you whenever you were around them. In fact, he’d barely even look at you. It was Remus who was always around you, talking and making you laugh.

If James hadn’t asked you out first, Remus might’ve been the one you were with.

He always made you feel wanted. In a way James never had. 

The worst part was that Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. And James hadn’t even brought it up. Even when you’d asked him, he’d just shrugged and said “I’ll come up with something.”

You definitely didn’t miss the way his friends kept pushing him towards Lily Evans. Or how he seemed to be subtly flirting with her, every time you looked at him when you were in public.

At first you would cry in your dorm room, unable to tell anyone about how you felt, because no matter how much you hated it, you still felt obliged to keep it a secret. Over time, you learnt to shrug it off, allowing the pain to grow in your chest. You didn’t know what it was like to go through a day without that crushing sensation.

Sometimes you wished you weren’t that nice. 

As you entered class, you weren’t expecting Remus to excitedly wave you over, Sirius turning away from his friend to smile at you as well.

You couldn’t even avoid them, it’d seem suspicious. You plastered on a fake smile, making your way over to the boys.

“Hey Y/N,” they both chorused. 

“Hello,” you responded, settling down next to Remus. He held out a chocolate in the palm of his hand, and you gladly accepted, muttering a simple thanks.

This is what it was like to be around Remus. It wasn’t the constant fear of someone finding out. It didn’t come with the thoughts swarming in your head.

Your eyes found James walking into class, hesitating, for just a moment when he saw you, before his face returned to normal and he took a seat beside Sirius.

Of course, he didn’t give you a second glance.

Class started, causing you to shift your focus on your professor. You hated how routine it had all become. 

How unaffected you were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you were walking back to your dorm, you felt someone grab your hand, pulling you behind a wall. 

“Y/N, don’t be mad,” James whispered. You stared at him blankly, before sighing softly. “How long?” you asked, staring directly into his eyes, hoping that you could decipher what was going on. He gulped, looking away for a minute, before his eyes landed on you again. “I-I don’t know,” he said, immediately looking down at his shoes.

You tried to blink away the gathering tears, nodding. “Look, James, I like being your girlfriend. But, I hate being your secret,” you said. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, full of panic. “You’re not my secret,” he said firmly, his eyes filled with confidence. You almost believed him.

Almost.

You scoffed. “Right because this,” you said, gesturing to your hiding spot, “doesn’t indicate that you’re hiding me.”

“No, no I-” he sighed frustratedly, a hand running through his hair. 

“I’ll see you in the Gryffindor common room in the evening. I’m studying with Remus. You,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “can ignore me as usual.”

With that, you left, unable to hold the onslaught of tears any longer. As the hot tears streamed down your face, you started running, picking up more speed as the feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t care that people were staring. You didn’t care that you could get into trouble. You just needed to get away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t go to class. You didn’t go to lunch. You sat in your room all day pondering your situation. It hurt you to think about it. You’d been so happy in the beginning, an amazing boyfriend, good friends, you had it all. But slowly, your sudden disappearances had increased, and you couldn’t explain it to your friends. You’d even missed your roommate's cake cutting on her birthday because you’d run off to find James.

They barely even talked to you now.

You sniffled, hearing voices as your roommates piled in, barely acknowledging you. You watched as they walked right past you, only one of them, Rose, the one who’s birthday you missed, paused to give you a sad smile, before joining the others in their discussion.

You couldn’t handle the pain anymore. It enveloped you completely, the numbness taking over. You quietly got up, leaving the room. Anywhere was better than here. 

As you got to your common room, you realized all the classes were over for the day. Your eyes scanned the room, as you tried to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be with Remus now. You didn’t want to go. James would be there.

But, you’d promised Remus yesterday. 

You sighed, deciding you had to go, leaving the common room, with no one to stop you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second you entered the common room, Remus called you over. Unfortunately, he was sitting with his friends. Including your boyfriend.

You walked over, ignoring the way James watched you, eyes trained on Remus. “Hi Remmy,” you said softly, taking a seat next to him. “Hello love. Are you alright? You weren’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts today,” he asked, brows furrowed together in concern. 

Did James even realize?

You nodded quietly, “Just needed to get away from everything for a while y’know?” 

Remus nodded, understanding taking over his features. 

“You don’t have your books,” Sirius pointed out.

You froze, you’d been so worked up that you hadn’t even realized.

“I - uh”

“ ‘S alright love, we can share,” Remus interrupted, passing his book over to you.

You smiled gratefully, “Thanks Moony.”

You knew James was watching you, but you didn’t look at him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. It hurt too much.

“Oh! I heard someone’s secret relationship was found out!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed.

You couldn’t process what he’d just said. Did he - did he know?

“Who?” you heard James ask. Your eyes snapped to him, but he was looking at Sirius, face seeming amused.

Was he not worried? Or did he not care? Or…was he so sure that it wasn’t about you two?

However Sirius just shrugged, “Don’t know, don’t care,” he pointed at the three of you, “however I think whoever it was is an absolute coward.”

Remus looked up from his book, “Coward?”

Sirius hummed in response. “You like someone enough to date them, why would you keep it quiet?” he asked, now looking at you, “If you’re not embarrassed or if it’s not forbidden love or something right n/n?” You were caught off guard by the question. 

The way he looked at you made you feel as if he knew more than he was letting on. 

“I uh-. Yeah, yeah, why would you?” you asked in response, looking at James. At this point, you didn’t care if someone suspected something. You wanted an answer.

James’s eyes widened in shock. “I-” 

The three of you were looking at him now. “You shouldn’t. Not if you care about the person enough,” he muttered, looking at everyone but you.

You didn’t stop the tears from flowing. “I- I have to go,” you whispered, before running out. 

Did he not care enough then? If that was just a response, framed to keep people from guessing, how far was he willing to go to keep this a secret?

You ran all the way to your dorm room, ignoring the way your roommates were looking at you with concern, before jumping on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow, and sobbing. 

None of them came to ask you what was wrong. Of course they didn’t. You hadn’t been there for them, constantly putting James first. 

The James that always seemed to put you last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up in the morning, eyes puffy and head hurting. You hadn’t even changed into your pajamas. You groaned, sitting up slowly, eyes closed, as the events of the day before, flooded into your head.

“Hi.”

You opened your eyes, finding Rose sitting on your bed, a soft smile on her face.

“Hi?” you said, shocked that she was even talking to you. 

“You came in, a mess last night,” she laughed lightly.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment . She moved closer to you, placing a hand on your knee. “What’s going on?” she asked, voice filled with concern. 

You were surprised that she’d even asked. “I missed your birthday?” you asked in response, unable to form an actual sentence.

She laughed again, “I know you Y/N. You wouldn’t have done that unless something was going on.”

You felt your eyes water again. “You really want to know?” you asked, your voice shaking. She simply nodded, waiting for you to continue.

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her, but as the pain in your chest continued to grow with every second, you realized you needed to let it out.

So you did.

You told her everything. From the very beginning, to the conversation you’d had yesterday.

The second you’d finished, she engulfed you in a hug. “Oh n/n, you don’t deserve that,” she said, pulling away.

“But I mean, what I don't get is, why?” you whispered.

“I don’t know love, but you have to tell him,” she said sternly.

“Tell him what?” you asked, afraid of what she was going to say.

“That if he wants to stay with you, he should be willing to be open about it. Not PDA level but you know what I mean,” she said, taking your hands in hers.

You nodded. She was right. Absolutely right.

You had to tell him now. Why not? It was Valentine’s? It was perfect.

“I’ll tell him right now,” you said, getting off the bed.

Rose gripped your hand. “Not like this you’re not,” she told you, looking you up and down.

You laughed in embarrassment, “Right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rose had helped you get ready, even helping you out with a bit of makeup. 

So now, as you sped across the halls, you were feeling confident. You were sure you mattered to him, so you didn’t worry too much about the conversation you were about to have. You were feeling good.

But then you heard the name Potter coming out of a certain redhead’s mouth. You came to a halt, turning to look at the scene behind you.

Lily Evans was holding a bouquet in her hands, blushing profusely. 

“I can’t believe he actually knows what flowers you like!” her friend exclaimed.

Lily nodded, “He might be a prick sometimes, but he really is good at this.”

Your heart dropped.

It can’t be.

You walked over to her clearing your throat. “Um, Lily?” you called, causing the girl to turn to you.

“Oh hey Y/N!” she smiled warmly. You returned it with a weak smile of your own, “I was just wondering,” you said shakily, pointing to the flowers, “who gave you those?” 

She grinned, “James Potter. As thick headed as he is, he’s also a sweetheart.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach, the color draining from your face. 

“You alright?” she asked, noticing the way your hands were shaking.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah of course. Have a nice day,” you said, quickly turning around and bolting. 

You had someone to go meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James!” you yelled, barging into the Gryffindor common room. Sirius, Peter and Remus, and James all turned to look at you. Luckily there was no one else there.

Though, to be honest, you wouldn’t have cared.

You were tired of hiding.

“You gave Lily flowers?” you said, walking up to your boyfriend. 

He stood up, eyes wide. 

“Of course he did! Are you oblivious to how he’s head over heels for her?” Sirius interjected, confused as to why you were so angry.

You ignored him, eyes trained on your boyfriend.

“I-”

“Well? Did you? Or is she lying to me?” you asked, your eyes watering.

“Y/N”

“I swear to god James if you try to hide this even now, I will not hesitate to slap you.”

You could see how panicked James was. But you didn’t care. You were hurt beyond repair.

He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“I did,” he whispered.

Hot tears streamed down your face.

“But I swear,” he said, opening his eyes, “ I only did it to keep people off of us.” He tried to reach for your hand, but you pushed him away.

“Why?” you sobbed. Your chest felt like it was being crushed. Your heart, breaking into tinier pieces by the minute.

James huffed. “Because,” he started throwing his hands up in the air, “Because you’re a Hufflepuff!” he yelled.

You staggered back, the shock of the revelation came like a blow.

“What?” you whispered.

“Mate, what’s going on?” Remus asked, walking over to stand next to you.

James just shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Love,” Remus turned to you, a gentle hand on your shoulder, “what’s going on?” he asked.

Sirius stepped forward, “James fucked up, that’s what’s going on,” he supplied.

You and James looked at him in shock.

“I saw you both kissing a few days back,” he explained. “It completely threw me off, because Prongs here,” he threw an arm around James’s shoulder, “has been head over heels for Evans since first year.”

First year?

“However, he did tell us about catching feelings for you last year, though we thought it subsided because he never mentioned it again. Of course, I found out only recently that he didn’t mention it, because he was too up in his head about the whole ‘Gryffindor being a superior house’ thing,” Sirius said, making air quotes. You stared at James, not knowing how to process the information being dealt out.

“Then I saw you both snogging each other before Charms one day, and decided to bring it up. James however said you were just friends. But he wouldn’t shut up about how in love he was with Evans. Meaning one of two things,” Sirius said, moving away from James, holding out both his hands.

“One,” he said, lifting his left hand up, “James was using you to get the attention he wanted because Lily wasn’t paying him regard,” James opened his mouth to say something but Sirius cut him off, “but, James isn’t a prick. He wouldn’t do that.” Sirius said, lowering his hand. “Which could only mean,” he lifted his right hand now, “that James did in fact like you, but he couldn’t give up completely on Lily, and,” he paused, pointing to James, “he feels too superior about his house, as always.”

You blinked multiple times, trying to understand what Sirius had just said. 

He’d known yesterday. And he’d been trying to warn you.

“Y/N-” James started.

“Don’t. Don’t James. Don’t open your mouth and try to explain. You’ll only make it worse,” you seethed. Your hurt had completely transformed into anger.

“We’re done. Go on and snog Lily in front of everyone, yeah? She’s in Gryffindor,” you glared at him, before storming out of the common room, ignoring his protests.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d spent the entire day in your room. Thinking, crying, and thinking some more. You’d told Rose, and then also told her you needed some alone time.

She’d been doing a great job at keeping everyone away.

Until now that is.

You heard a soft knock on your dorm room door.

“Please, not now,” you called out, hoping the person would go away.

“I uh- It’s me, Remus,” a soft, uncertain, voice called back.

Your eyes widened and you quickly got off the bed, opening the door to your visitor.

“Remus?” you asked, surprised.

He smiled at you warmly. “Hello love, may I come in?” he asked. You nodded, stepping aside to let him. You closed the door again, watching as he gently placed his bag on the floor before sitting on your bed.

“I had to bribe Rose with 2 weeks of free chocolates,” he laughed.

For the first time in hours, you felt a smile creep up onto your face. “Aww, you did that for me?” you teased, settling down in front of him.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, quietly. 

You froze, a warmth coating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

He sighed, “James is- He’s an idiot. To hurt you like that. It’s-” he shook his head, “It’s fucked up and not fair on you. If I was him, I’d be showing you off,” he said, reaching over to place his hand on your knee.

You felt goosebumps erupt all over you at his touch.

“Even if I’m a hufflepuff?” you smiled sadly.

“Even if you’re a Hufflepuff,” Remus nodded, before adding, “In fact, I’m happy you’re not a Gryffindor, I know too many Gryffindors,” he laughed.

You felt yourself relax at the comforting sound, a small chuckle slipping past your lips as well. 

Remus bent over, searching through his bag before presenting a bouquet of (your favorite flowers).

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I- Are these for me?” you asked, reaching out slowly.

Remus nodded, “Just for you,” he said.

You pulled them close to your face, inhaling the fresh scent. “I love it, Moony, thank you,” you whispered. 

Remus just stared at you, his brown eyes filled with love. For a second, he looked away, as if pondering something, before his eyes landed on his hands. You watched as played with his sweater, shrugging, before taking in a deep breath, and looking into your eyes.

“I know it might be too early, but do you think- would you maybe- I don’t know how to say it,” he sighed, looking away.

You knew what it was immediately. Did you want it? Yes, so very badly. Because you were confident that Remus would treat you right. Even Rose thought so.

He knew you better than James ever had.

“Just say it Remmy,” you said, placing the flowers next to you, before taking his hands in yours.

He looked at you, staring into your eyes. You felt your heart pick up speed, thumping loud against your ribcage.

He shook his head, looking away again, unable to keep eye contact for long. 

You moved closer to him, knitting your hands together, sitting knee to knee. 

“I’d love to be your girlfriend. We- We’ll have to take it slow, but I’d absolutely love to do that Remus,” you said.

He gently untangled your arms, and worry took over. Is that not what he wanted?

But then, his lips were on yours, his hands on your waist, and your head was on cloud nine.

It wasn’t rushed, he took his time, savoring every second. It wasn’t mixed with the fear of being caught. Or the pain of knowing you wouldn’t get it again for a while.

No. You couldn’t think. Your heart took over your body, as you pushed back. Every fiber of your being, lighting up with joy.

It was like your first kiss all over again.

Until, someone threw the door open, and you almost feared how Remus would react.

But he didn’t recoil, or act like nothing had happened. He just backed away, shocked, one hand still on your waist, as the other ran through his hair, eyes closed as he let out a small airy chuckle. 

It was Rose. She was grinning. “I knew it!” she pumped her fist in the air. 

Remus laughed, shaking his head, “Now will you leave us alone? Unless you want to watch?” he asked, eyebrows raised. 

Rose’s eyes widened, and she held her hand up in defense, “No sir,” she said, before leaving, closing the door behind her, causing you to giggle.

Remus turned to you, smiling, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Promise we won’t be a secret?” You whispered.

“I promise,” he responded, pressing his lips to your forehead.

And he stuck to that promise, ‘till your heart went still.

Wedding Day - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, Third Person POV Focused on Rooster, Reader - only description is that reader is a woman, No Y/N

Summary: It's Bradley's wedding day and he can't wait to see his wife.

The Bradshaw wedding was a very long-awaited event for everyone involved. They had been engaged for about three years now, but there was a very good reason for delaying the actual wedding itself for so long.

And that was the arrival of one Caroline Bradshaw, who just happened to be born roughly nine months after her parents actually got engaged. So, you can do the math. They certainly did when they found out about their little surprise.

But the wedding was finally here and they were finally going to get married.

Rooster, dressed in his dress whites, followed the photographer’s instructions and stood on the end of the porch, facing the ocean. They were already at the ceremony venue, but Rooster had not seen a single second of his fiancée during the entire morning.

But now it was time for the first look and he couldn’t wait to see his fiancée in her white dress.

He didn’t want to spoil anything for himself. He always walked away or made some noise to try and change the subject when anything about the wedding dress was talked about in his presence. But ever since he found out that Hangman somehow already saw the dress, Rooster was antsy.

After all, she was going to be his wife. Not Hangman’s. And not anyone else’s either.

“Alright, you can turn around,” the photographer called out.

Rooster turned around, expecting to see his soon-to-be wife standing there in all her glory, but instead his eyes dropped down to the little girl in a blush pink dress trotting towards him. He let out a stunned gasp and bent down to greet his daughter.

“Hey, Baby,” he cooed, pulling his daughter in for a hug. “Oh, you look so pretty in your dress. Can you do a twirl for Daddy?”

“Yeah!” Caroline called, jumping around to show off her dress.

“Aw, you’re so beautiful in your dress, Care,” Rooster praised, picking her up and setting her on his hip. “Did you get ready with Mommy?”

Caroline nodded, playing with the medals pinned to Rooster’s dress whites. Rooster, even though he assumed that one of the bridesmaids was going to have a problem with it, pulled his hat off his head and placed it on top of Caroline’s before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“How’s Mommy doing, huh?”

“Good,” Caroline held out, grabbing Rooster’s collar to steady herself. “But it’s a secret!”

“A secret?” Rooster repeated, causing Caroline to nod furiously. “Oh, well, I don’t want you to get in trouble with Mommy.”

“Nope!” Caroline agreed, to which Rooster laughed and pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“You’re so pretty, Baby,” Rooster praised his daughter again. “You ready to walk down the aisle with all the petals like your Aunt Penny showed you?”

“Yeah,” Caroline giggled as Rooster nuzzled his nose into her cheek.

“God, I can’t wait to see your reaction on her wedding day,” Hangman commented, walking up to the father and daughter.

“You say that again and I’ll throw you in with the sharks, Bagman,” Rooster replied, dead serious as he hugged his daughter protectively to his chest.

“Noted. So, there’s a small change in plans. There was some issue with the dress and the future Mrs. Bradshaw needs some more time to get ready, so you’ll just have to wait until the actual ceremony to see her.”

“Is everything okay?” Rooster asked worriedly.

“Penny told me that everything is under control and I trust Penny, so I’m sure it’s handled.”

“Alright,” Rooster agreed, nodding along. “Well, then we better get to the ceremony.”

Thirty minutes later, Rooster stood at the front of the chapel, waiting patiently for his fiancée to arrive and walk down the aisle. Caroline already did her part and was happily sitting on Maverick’s lap, playing with her small bouquet.

But then the bridal suite started up and everyone rose to their feet. The doors opened and Rooster took one look at his soon-to-be wife and immediately started bawling. Holding a hand over his mouth to try and stop his lips from wobbling, Rooster couldn’t help how his body shook with absolute joy as the love of his life walked down the aisle to him.

The dress was everything that he pictured and more and frankly she could have been wearing a table cloth or a potato sack and he still would have married her right then and there with no questions asked. And when they locked eyes and he saw that she was smiling at him, hell, he nearly melted into the floor right then and there.

“Hey,” she greeted him softly, taking his hand and stepping up.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rooster choked out, absolutely radiating love and joy.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she joked, trying to not burst out into tears herself.

They managed to get through the ceremony without too many more tears, even after Caroline trotted up with the rings. They held hands and faced each other with glowing smiles as the officiant finally declared them as a married couple.

“I know declare you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

And Rooster didn’t waste any time in gathering his wife—that’s right, his wife—into his arms and planting an emotional kiss on her lips. If he didn't pull back with a matching shade of her lipstick, he was going to be disappointed in himself. Cheers echoed around the chapel as the newlyweds pulled away from each other.

Waving at the crowd of their friends and family, the newlyweds made their way back down the aisle, holding hands and absolutely radiating joy. While their guests headed to the reception hall, the two of them posed for some more wedding photos.

“So, there was a problem with your dress this morning?” Rooster asked his wife, who smiled softly.

“Oh, yeah. I had to wait to get into it.”

“Why?”

“Well, I had to wait for my maid of honor to return with some pregnancy tests and—”

Rooster whipped around to face his wife with wide eyes. He nearly tripped over the grass and went tumbling, but she held him up, just like she did when she told him the first time.

“You’re serious?” Rooster asked her, holding her hips and sliding his hand around to her belly that wasn’t even there yet. “You’re pregnant?”

“That’s what the tests say,” she told her husband—that’s right, her husband.

And the wedding photographer made sure to get plenty of shots of that series of happy, tear-filled kisses for their wedding album. 

would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?

if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut

"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove." 

You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm. 

"I am careful," you say. 

He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly. 

"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say. 

Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home." 

You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate. 

He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him. 

"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't." 

"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up." 

He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit." 

"Angel?" 

You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants. 

"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?" 

You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence." 

He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head. 

"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm. 

"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow." 

"Give us a hug." 

"I'll make tea." 

James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?" 

"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes." 

The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me." 

"No, I don't think so." 

James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

You hum. He kisses your cheek. 

"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you." 

"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves." 

"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl. 

James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen. 

You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin. 

I like to worry, he'd assured you once. 

"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say. 

He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day." 

"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say. 

He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut. 

"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long." 

"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?" 

You shake your head vehemently. 

"Swear?" 

"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work." 

"It's my lunch break." 

"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home." 

"Or I can make you something," he suggests. 

You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together. 

"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss. 

His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking. 

"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home." 

"I wanted to." 

He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy. 

"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.

"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest. 

You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you." 

"Worse ways to go," Remus says. 

Heart Of Gold, Hands Of A Healer

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader

TW:none, just tooth rotting fluff

Summary: Bradley never knew how much he needed love and affection until you gave it to him.

Word Count:2.8k

A/N: Okay lets hope it doesn't cut off this time bc I'm at my wits end

Bradley Bradshaw doesn't consider himself a soft, lovable man. He keeps barbed wire around his heart, isn't very affectionate, and drops his life at the drop of a hat when the Navy comes knocking. 

He's large and broad, his body is littered with scars, and his hands are calloused from years of working on his car and flying F18s. When he does have a girlfriend, they never stick around for long. They soon realize he's not a project that can be fixed and lose interest. 

They always want to settle down and get married, and they can't handle his closed-off emotions and unwillingness to have anything permanent. So they cut and run, and Bradley lets them. He figures they want him to chase them, fall to his knees in the rain, and beg them to stay. He never does. 

He concluded he's got too much baggage, not that anyone ever stuck around long enough to help him unpack it. Women don't like his battered, imperfect body. Sure, he's got abs that rival a greek god, but it's flawed with imperfections that they never cared to get the story behind. 

Until he met you. 

You blew into his life like a warm summer breeze, and he realized he hadn't been breathing his entire life. You disarmed him in an instant without him even noticing. The cage around his heart fell apart, and he let you in without a second thought. 

You make him feel safe and adored, and the weight of his past melts away when you're with him. The second his eyes land on you, the tension dissolves from his body. His shoulders drop a bit, his joints stop aching, and his jaw unclenches. 

His dentist has been on him for years about incessant teeth grinding at night, and it turns out the solution is sleeping next to you. He never knew how much he craved affection, but the second your soft hands grazed his flesh, he was hit with the realization that he needs your touch more than air. 

He's like a giant next to you, his frame looming over your body when he hugs you. He's frequently found holding your hand up to his, marveling at how your fingers only extend an inch or two beyond his palm. Those hands he loves so much, capable of bringing them to his knees despite the fact he makes fun of you and says they're no bigger than a child's.

You find beauty in all of his scars and scrapes, taking time to get the story behind even the most insignificant mark that even he forgot exists. You make him feel important, always listening intently as if he's telling you the most exciting thing you've ever heard. 

You always take your time worshiping him, your fingertips tracing the plains and valleys of his tender skin with feather-like pressure as if they're roadmaps to someplace sacred only you know about. 

He's never been particularly insecure; that's not the word he would use to describe it. He just doesn't like the marred places on his body, tissue built up from where it was torn open. A silvery reminder of everything he's been through. 

He confessed he thinks his scars are ugly one evening, and you looked at him with such revere that he felt love for himself blossom deep in his bones. 

He's never seen himself as anything other than damaged goods, yet you see him in such a beautiful light he can't help but let it shine through him. 

You and Bradley have only been official for a couple of weeks, yet it feels like he's known you for a lifetime. 

You're sitting at the hard deck, and he notices you staring at the side of his face. 

"See something you like?" He jests, but your face remains serious. 

You reach out gingerly, almost afraid he'll jump back, and trace the scar on his jaw. Your fingertips leave a trail of fire, and he freezes.

"No one has ever done that before."

You look at him curiously, your forehead scrunched and your head tilted. 

"Why not?"

He shrugs shyly and averts his gaze. 

"I think they're ugly, and I guess other people do too."

You shake your head and lean forward to press a chaste kiss to the place your hand just was. 

"They're part of you, Bradley. Evidence of a life lived. There's nothing ugly about that."

You lay together on the bed that night as he took you on a journey through his life, tenderly loving each of his scars, both mental and physical. 

Your lips press barely there kisses on each mark that graces his face and neck, and Bradley allows his eyes to flutter closed. He revels in the feeling, electricity crackling just under the surface every time your mouth touches him.

"Beautiful." You whisper, and Bradley finds himself agreeing. Not because he thinks the tattered skin is special but because he now associates it with you. 

"How'd you get this one?" You ask, lips tracing a two-inch long line on his palm. 

"Cut myself with a butter knife in second grade." He responds, voice soft like rain in the fall. 

"And this one?" You're now focusing on a raised welt on his pectoral, the old mark barely visible. If you didn't know to look for it, you'd miss it. He pushes away the idea that you pay such close attention to him that you were able to pick up on it anyway; the thought makes him want to cry. 

"Paintball to my bare chest at close range. My buddy and I did it on a dare in high school."

You hum contentedly and continue on your path. 

"What about this?" 

Your finger taps his knee, and he smiles softly. 

"Varsity baseball. I was known for sliding into home, and one day I caught a piece of gravel."

You smile fondly at the visual and glance up at him. 

"Will you show me pictures sometime?"

He swallows thickly and then nods. 

He isn't usually one for reminiscing. That was around the same time Carol got sick, and he's never let anyone into that part of his life. He knows you're different; if he told you no, you wouldn't push the subject. 

He wants to share those memories with you, and he wants you to know his parents the way he did. It doesn't hurt so bad when you're the one he's talking to about them.

You let him share at his own pace, never expectant and always allowing him to stop whenever he gets uncomfortable. He feels lighter, and he supposes it's because you've seen the darkest parts of him. 

Instead of running, you took his pain gently in your hands as if to say, 'Let me help you carry this. You don't have to be crushed under the weight of your grief anymore.'

Your heart is pure, and Bradley has never felt love like yours. It's all-encompassing, wrapping him in golden light and promising never to let him be shrouded in darkness again. 

You're lying on his chest, watching as he flips through old photos and albums. Your hand rubs the scar on his palm absentmindedly as he explains each and every one to you. So many women have refused to even acknowledge the marks that glimmer when the light hits them just right, yet you find comfort in them. 

"This one was taken a couple of weeks before my dad passed." He explains, and you smile fondly at the image of little Bradley sitting atop Goose's shoulders as he and Carol laugh. You can feel the joy radiating from them and reach out to stroke the laminate paper carefully. 

"You look like them. You have your dad's eyes and mom's smile. I can see where you get your goofy and bubbly personality from. They live through you." 

You don't realize how much weight those words carry at the moment, and Bradley swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn't think he's a bubbly person, but every time you laugh at one of his corny jokes or smile at him like he hung the moon, he starts to believe it more and more. 

"How did they meet?"

You're not paying him much mind, and that's what gets him. You're not trying to be sweet and thoughtful; it's just who you are. There's no ulterior motive or desire to figure out why he's so fucked up just to fix him. 

You just want to know about him and how he came to be. It's completely innocent, an act of pure love, and he can't imagine how he got by all these years without you. 

"They were both from Virginia originally. They met at mom’s job, and she always said that she didn't notice dad at first, even though he was completely smitten. Apparently, she turned him down a few times, but he kept showing up and making her laugh. I don't entirely believe that, though." 

You move to look up at him through your lashes and kiss his jaw. 

"Why don't you believe it?" 

The question is simple, yet it causes his heart to swell. You genuinely care and want to know more. He'll never get over the fact that you listen when he tells you stories and ask more questions because you're interested in the answers. 

"Mom always looked at him like he was her whole world. I can't imagine a time that she didn't see him in that light, even in the beginning. She never even glanced at another man after he died, so I like to believe they were meant to be from the start." 

You hum and look back down as he turns to a new page. 

"Kind of like us." 

He chuckles, and you grin as his chest rumbles under your cheek. 

"Like us?"

You roll your eyes playfully and take in the picture of Carol kissing Bradley on the cheek as he grimaces. He can't be any older than five or six. 

"I've been head over heels since the second I met you, Bradley Bradshaw." 

His breath hitches, and he hesitates for a second. 

"It wasn't love at first sight? You had to meet me first?" He teases, trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

"Well, of course I noticed how handsome you are. But that's not what got me. It was your energy. You lit up the room without even knowing it. You're this ball of light, yet you don't see it. Usually, men who look like you and have a job like yours are insufferable assholes."

He snorts at this and nods. 

"Hangman." He murmurs, and you slap his arm lightly. 

"Be nice. Anyway, you're genuine and kind. It's always the most radiant people that are hardest on themselves. As soon as you said your name, you had me hook, line, and sinker. I wanted to know every last thing about you, and I'll never get tired of learning who you are."

You barely finish your sentence before he captures you in a searing kiss. You melt into him instantly, and he wonders how he managed to fall in love with an angel.

"Tell me more about them. The good parts that you think of when you want to smile." You mutter, and he looks down at you.

"On Sundays, we always had breakfast together. Dad would make french toast from scratch, and I would help mom squeeze oranges for fresh juice. We always laughed and made a mess, then cleaned it up together. I miss it."

He has a wistful smile, and you kiss the corner of his lips. 

"That sounds nice." 

He nearly sobbed when he woke up to the smell of syrup the following weekend and found you making french toast with bacon in the kitchen. It's something else you share now, the two of you dancing around each other as you sing 80s songs and giggle.

The Dagger squad walked in on it one day, and they were adopted into the tradition too. They love how Bradley is around you and quickly noticed that you always seem to be touching him somehow. 

Whether you're rubbing soothing circles on his skin, resting your legs over his, or playing with his hair, you're always showing some form of physical affection. 

One night while cuddled on the couch, Bradley almost melted into a puddle. 

You're only half watching the movie on the TV, your hands running through Bradley's curls while his head is in your lap. That's another thing, Bradley loves being held. 

Without thinking, you scratch your nails against his scalp and feel him instantly nuzzle further into your thighs. 

"Do that again, please." 

You do as he asks, and he lets out a soft groan. 

"That feels nice. I don't know the last time someone has done that." 

He's practically drooling as he says it, and you continue without another word. 

He falls asleep not long after, and you smile down at the man who carries the world on his shoulders. 

You always seem to know when Bradley needs a hug or to be the little spoon. He doesn't know how you do it, but you'll never catch him complaining. 

Like tonight, you just seem to know what he needs even if he doesn't. His feet are heavy as they carry him to the front door of your shared home, and he heaves a sigh before swinging the door open. 

It's like you know what kind of day he had, and without a moment's hesitation, you're standing in front of him, ready to take the weight off.

Your arms wrap around him, and he leans into you instantly. You shift slightly to support him and rub your hand up his back.

"Let's take a bath."

He doesn't respond other than a nod against your neck, and you lead him to the bathroom.

He watches as you run a bath with bubbles and salts before stripping down. He sits still as you take his boots off his screaming feet and carefully remove his uniform.

As soon as he's naked, you climb into the bath together, settling into the large garden tub.

You wash his hair as he leans back against you, and he shutters at the sensation. You rub shampoo into the chestnut strands, your nails scratching his scalp the way he loves every so often. He lets you work as the stress seems to be rinsed away with the suds. 

The two of you stay there in silence until the water is cold. You don't pry for details, and he's grateful. He doesn't like bringing work home; you're perfectly okay with that. You know if he needs to talk, he will. 

He clambers out of the bath, and you dry him off as exhaustion sets in, threatening to consume him before he can even lay down. 

"Stay there." You whisper, and he listens as the door opens and closes. 

You're back before he can really process you've even left and hand him clean clothes. They're warm from the dryer, and he tries to figure out when you had time to toss them in there. He wonders if you did it before he even got home, a sixth sense you've developed telling you that he would need it. 

The two of you get dressed in silence and pad into your bedroom. You pull back the comforter and climb in, opening your arms as an invitation for him. He crawls across the bed and collapses onto your chest, your arms pulling up the blanket to cover the two of you before securely wrapping around him. 

He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume and laundry detergent muddling his senses. The sheets have just been washed, and you've sprayed his favorite lavender vanilla freshener on the pillows. 

You trace his body the way you always do, and he settles in further, almost laying entirely on top of you. You don't mind one single bit; just happy that you're able to be some sort of solace for him as he drifts off. 

He never saw himself having this type of relationship; he didn't even want it. But as he lies here with images of you flashing through his subconscious, an overwhelming feeling of safety envelops him, and he knows he was wrong. 

Your love makes him want to fall to his knees and repent for the errors in his previous ways, almost sorry that he'd been robbing himself of this for so long. Then again, he figures he probably didn't miss much anyway. Your love is once in a lifetime; he wouldn't have found it with anyone else, even if he wanted to.

Bradley Bradshaw never saw himself as a kind or loving man until you appeared and showed him what love is. Now, he surrenders himself completely. He doesn't know if heaven is real, but he figures this is about as close as he can get.