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risriswrites · 1 year

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Just Roommates

summary: a series of moments between bradley bradshaw and his roommate that prove they're a little more than "just roommates"

pairing: roommate x bradley bradshaw, fem reader

warnings: none, just some mild language and lots of fluff

author's note: this is my second fic and i just wanted to say thank you all for the love on the first one! it made my heart happy :) likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

word count: 9.1k

“Okay but hear me out. What if we painted the living room wall a pale green?” you question, gesturing to the beige wall directly across from you with a spoon, that was once being used for your bowl of cereal; which had been discarded five minutes prior in favor of the sudden inspiration to revamp the living room.

Tilting your head to the side you allow your eyes to wander the length of the wall before adding, “Not like a pastel green but more like a sage green. I think it’d compliment the couch…and the wood floors.”

Bradley was leaning in the doorframe of the hallway that led to your separate bedrooms, arms crossed over themselves and letting his eyes trail over the way you’ve perched yourself onto the granite kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other.

It was a Saturday morning, so it didn’t surprise him that you’d foregone pants and settled on an oversized t-shirt, really short shorts, and fuzzy socks. You always complained about how you couldn’t sleep if it was too hot, so he made sure to keep the thermostat at a comfortable 70 degrees, but as soon as you woke up, you’d be freezing and needed socks to keep your feet warm. He’d never understand it.

Dragging his eyes away from you he lazily glanced at the wall of the living room. Honestly, he was fine with the way it was, but he wasn’t an interior decorator, so his opinion didn’t really count for anything in the name of “design”.

“I don’t think it really matters” he shrugs, letting his eyes wander back over to you. Your hair was still a little messy from sleeping, but in way he found oddly, cute.

A huff slips past your lips as you slide off the counter and move to wash the bowl you’d been using, “Bradley, the apartment could use a little bit of color. It’s kind of bland in here,” you grimace, sparing him a quick glance before resuming your assault on the navy-blue bowl.

Sighing, Bradley pushes himself off the doorframe in favor of moving to the granite island you’d been sitting on a few moments ago, “Well, you pay for half of the apartment, so whatever you think will make the place look decent that’s up to you.”

“That’s not how decisions work between roommates, Bradley. We have to both agree with it,” you mutter.

Shaking your head you force a breath out, “Look, we can talk about it later if you want, it’s not a big deal. We can always meet in the middle and bring in a plant or something instead? You keep the neutrality of the apartment, and I can have some greenery to look at.” you negotiate, all while wiping your hands on the hand towel hanging across the bar of the oven, shooting him an awkward smile, doing your best to not glance at his naked chest.

He forces his own smile back at you and nods his head the tiniest bit to let you know he’d think about it.

With that conversation ending you decide to leave Bradley to his thoughts in favor of snuggling into the couch for some warmth and an excuse to binge watch “The Witcher”.

You and Bradley had been living together for a little over a month, having been introduced to each other through your friend Jamie.

Jamie was a landing signal officer for the navy that you had met while you were in college. He was just getting his associates degree to pass the time while he worked on achieving all of the necessary credentials to start training in the navy, and once he graduated, was stationed out in Miramar. He had worked alongside Bradley during a few different missions and had kept in contact with him over the past few years. The two were close enough that Bradley valued Jamie’s feedback and opinion, so when Bradley came to him with his roommate dilemma, he knew the perfect person to recommend.

Based on your first meeting alone you liked Bradley. He was well mannered, reserved, and yet, still had a certain rugged charm to him. And now you were here, laying on the gray couch you had convinced Bradley would look perfect in the small living space, snuggled under a knitted blanket from your grandma, as Bradley fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m going to go out for a run in ten minutes, do you need anything while I’m out?” Bradley called out to you.

You tilted your head back to look at him from the throw pillow you were currently laying on, “No thanks I’m good,” you smiled, quickly turning back to your show, successfully avoiding gawking at your roommate as he maneuvered around your shared kitchen.

Ten minutes came and went, and you never heard Bradley leave the house. Crinkling your eyebrows, you sit up from your spot on the couch and peer back into the kitchen to check if Bradley had snuck out without you noticing. Only to see him sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, one arm leaning on the long piece of granite and the other holding his coffee mug in his hand, casually sipping at the hot beverage while his eyes were glued to the tv screen.

A smirk grows on your lips, “Going for a run, huh?”

Bradley’s gaze breaks from the tv screen and snaps to you, his eyebrows pinching together as he shoots you a playful glare, mumbling into his mug, “I’m about to leave.”

“Sure, you are” you snort.

Silence ensues as you continue to smirk at him and he glares at you, before finally he breaks.

“Alright fine,” he huffs, “One episode, and then I’m going for a run.”

You turn back to the tv with a knowing smile on your face before getting comfortable under your blanket again.

Bradley stays put at the kitchen island for the next episode, but once you’ve started the second, he’s gravitated to sitting on the arm of the couch.

You glance over at him every now and then, smirk growing larger with every minute he continues to sit and not leave to go for his run, too enraptured in the show currently playing on your shared tv screen.

Grasping the remote in your hand you pause the show, turning you head and quirking an eyebrow at him, “Soo…still going for that run?”

Bradley huffs and throws his head back groaning, “I need to.”

You stay in your position allowing yourself to let your gaze roll over the scars that litter his neck and along his cheek. Seeing the war waging on in his brain you decide to make it easy for him, “How about you go on that run, and I’ll just pause it until you get back? It’s on Netflix so it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” You smile.

Bradley turns to face you, moving his arms behind him to rest on the couch, further exposing his naked chest, “You sure? I don’t wanna make you wait to finish the episode.”

You push aside any thoughts about how hot he looks right now and instead focus on his honey brown eyes, letting your smile turn into an easy smirk, “I’ll be okay Bradshaw, I’m a big girl I can wait one hour for you to finish your run.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow while leaning towards you a little bit, letting his tongue poke out to swipe across his lips before he fixes you with a sarcastic smile of his own, “Sweetheart, it’s cute you think that it’s gonna take me that longto go on a three-mile run.”

And with that statement being put out in the air, he’s moving off the couch and heading towards the door, passing the water bottle he set out earlier.

Momentarily dazed from his proximity, you regain your train of thought and call after him, “Have fun show off!”

“Don’t start that episode until I get back sweetheart!” he yells, pointing a finger back in your direction, letting the door swing closed behind him.

A snort escapes you as you take to scrolling through your phone, waiting for Bradley to come back.

And exactly twenty minutes after you last saw him; not that you were counting, Bradley strolls back inside, a sheen of sweet glistening from his chest and abs as he strides towards the water sitting on the island.

Having looked up at his arrival, you quickly force yourself to look back down, cursing under your breath at how heaven sent he looks right now.

As Bradley is unscrewing the cap from his water bottle, he glances towards you propped up on the couch scrolling through the many apps you have on your phone before he slides his gaze to the tv, smiling to himself when he sees that you’ve kept your promise in keeping the show paused.

Allowing himself a few gulps of water, he sets the bottle back on the island and turns his attention back to you, “You mind keeping it paused for a little longer? I need a shower.”

You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen, “Don’t need to ask Bradshaw, I’d rather not have you tainting our clean couch with your sweat.” You snicker, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

He just shakes his head and smiles as he sets off towards the bathroom.

Another ten short minutes had passed before Bradley saunters back into your shared living space freshly showered and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

You stare for all of five seconds before becoming conscious of what you’re doing and move to grab the remote that’s been lying dormant on the side table for the past thirty-five minutes, eager to distract yourself from allowing him to take up any further space in your mind.

Bradley, however, has other plans and is picking your legs up off the couch and maneuvering himself under them in order to sit, bringing them back down and settling them in his lap, unknowingly regaining your attention.

Said attention being specifically on his right hand that is currently resting on top of your left leg, allowing a warmth to settle where his hand is, and traveling up through the rest of your body, a flush no doubt currently on your cheeks. Giving your head a small shake, you press play on the remote before forcing yourself to relax into the throw pillow and focus on Geralt arguing with Jaskier.

He's your roommate.

You’re very attractive roommate, but your roommate, nevertheless. And reminding yourself of that fact helps you stay focused on the show before the two of you part ways a few hours later.

He’s your roommate. Nothing’s going to happen.

“Pretty sure this is the kinda injury you go to the hospital for, Bradshaw. Not your very unqualified roommate and a first aid kit” You grimace.

Bradley was currently sitting on the toilet seat of your shared bathroom; after what you can imagine was another interesting night at the hard deck, in his typical white tank and Hawaiian button-down combo while you stood in between his jean clad legs, attempting to control the bleeding above his eyebrow.

“I’m serious you might need stitches,” you grunt, grabbing some more gauze and pushing it against the laceration.

Bradley snorts, “I wouldn’t say you’re completely unqualified if you’re gonna stand there and say I need stitches.”

You roll your eyes at the statement and resist the urge to smack him, “Anyone with half a brain can deduce that you need stitches, doesn’t take someone with a degree to know that.”

“So, you’re saying you’re perfect for the job, since you don’t need a degree? That’s perfect, thanks sweetheart,” comes the reply of a grinning Bradley.

A huff escapes past your lips as you mutter out, “You’re impossible”.

Your eyes examine the items from the first-aid kit that are currently scattered across the countertop, landing on a small box that says, “butterfly wound closures”. You light up at your luck before ordering Bradley to keep pressure on the gauze you’ve been holding as you move to get the much-needed bandages.

Once you’ve grabbed two or three bandages from the box, you push Bradley’s hand off the gauze and slowly peel it back to check on the bleeding. Luckily, it’s stopped now, and you can focus on closing the wound.

Grabbing a square packet with the words, “alcohol pad” on it, you rip open the packaging and take out the small piece of moist fabric, before sucking in a breath. Just knowing how much this could burn against Bradley’s wound has you wincing and hesitating to clean the area around it. “This might sting a little if I get to close, so try to stay still” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady as you start wiping around the wound. “How’d this happen anyway?” you question, attempting to distract him from any pain he might be feeling.

Bradley watches your face as you begin to wipe away at the dried blood above his eyebrow, nose scrunched, eyebrows pinched, and eyes focused on his wound. It’s endearing, how seriously you’re taking this.

“Some guy kept bothering Phoenix, she can usually handle guys like that on her own, but this one just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I stepped in to help escort him out of the hard deck with Hangman when the guy swung on me. It’s not a big deal.” He sighed.

You forced out a chuckle at his response, “I wouldn’t say that. Not when you’re coming home with blood rushing down your face”.

Bradley clocked the skip in his heart at the word “home” coming from your lips.

Ignoring that thought he rasped out, “Yeah well, better me than Phoenix. Plus, he definitely looks worse than me, I can guarantee you that, sweetheart.”

And just when you were about to retort back, you made the mistake of brushing the alcohol pad too close to his open wound.

Bradley’s eyes instantly force themselves shut, reaching out to grip your legs as he inhales sharply.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry Bradley” you apologize, moving your hands to hold his head in place. And before you even register what you’re doing you’re blowing air on his wound, applying the same knowledge you have with the reaction between small cuts and hand sanitizer to this scenario.

Bradley slowly let out the breath he’d been holding, muttering out an, “It’s fine sweets,” allowing his body to relax again.

Discarding the alcohol wipe, you quickly grab the bandages you set out, unwrapping them at a swift pace before moving to place them one by one over Bradley’s cut. Gingerly, you smooth your thumb over the last bandage, securing it in place on Bradley’s sun-kissed skin.

“Okay” you let out a breath, “You’re all set to be a hero again” you smile softly. “Don’t get into the habit of getting into fights with drunk men.” You warned, moving your right hand to squeeze his shoulder.

Bradley’s eyes flutter open meeting your soft gaze, and he can’t help but to let one side of his mouth quirk up into a smirk, “I make no promises sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his confession you take a step back from him, forcing his hands to drop from your thighs, “You think you can manage putting everything back in the first-aid kit, show off? Or do you need my help with that too?” you smirk.

Bradley scoffs, pushing himself off the toilet to tower above you, “I got it,” he jests, light blue Hawaiian shirt swaying at the speed he moved from the toilet.

With the smirk still playing on your lips you back out of the bathroom, rounding the corner completely before calling out to him, “good to know you’re not completely helpless, Bradshaw!”

It’s been almost a year since you and Bradley started living together and somehow, he’s managed to supply endless excuses as to why dagger squad wasn’t able to meet his roommate. No one was more frustrated about the lack of an introduction than Phoenix, as Bradley’s closest friend she was a little pissed and mildly offended at the realization.

So, after some choice words between Phoenix and Bradley and the occasional nagging from Hangman, Bradley folded and told the duo that he’d talk to you about inviting them over for dinner.

Dragging his feet, Bradley opened the door to your shared apartment, taking in the smell of the lavender essential oil you had diffusing in the entryway.

Bradley faintly remembers you educating him on the effectiveness of essential oils when it comes to mental and physical health, and how lavender was best for promoting sleep and relaxation. Something you learned from your “stress management” class in college. It’s funny how that knowledge has him instantly relaxing once he’s stepped into the apartment; or maybe it was just knowing you occupied the same space as him.

“Honey I’m home!” Bradley calls out, tone light and playful.

He rounds the corner to see you propped up on the couch, book in your lap as you glance up at his loud and flashy entrance.

Quirking a brow at the flight suit currently tied around his waist, you watch him move one arm above his head to lean against the doorway, black fitted tee straining as he makes himself comfortable. You shoot him a playful smile, “Have a good day, sweetheart?”

Bradley lets a smirk grace his lips as he watches you, “I’ve had better.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention downwards towards the book in your lap, “Well there’s always tomorrow” you reasoned.

Bradley allows himself to take in your appearance, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watches a strand of hair fall in your face. He decides then and there that the matching green sports bra and spandex shorts set is his new favorite outfit that you own and there’s definitely gotta be some rule about inappropriate thoughts about your roommate that he’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s breaking.

Breaking his gaze from you he moves to the kitchen, focusing on fixing himself a glass of water when he remembers Phoenix’s words from earlier.

Meandering around the kitchen for a few more seconds he decides to just throw it out there.

“Hey sweetheart, are you okay with a few members from my squad coming by the apartment?”

Hearing his voice echoing through the kitchen into the living room, you allow his words to sit for a second, letting them mull over in your head until you decide to answer him with a, “why not? The more the merrier,” and glance back down to continue reading the murder mystery you’d been attempting to finish for the past few days.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding; Bradley smiles softly at your focused expression before grabbing his phone and shooting a group text to Phoenix and Hangman to let them know they could swing by later this week.

Only putting his phone down when he got a thumbs up from Hangman, and an enthused text from Nat telling him to send the details when he can, allowing himself to refocus back onto the girl currently sat on the gray couch, with an impressive number of throw pillows surrounding her, and a book he’s never heard of before in her hands.

Smiling quietly to himself, he runs a hand through his curls and decides to head to the bathroom to shower, already hearing you in his mind telling him how you don’t want the smell of jet fuel on the couch.

Once he’s finished, he throws on an old Navy tee and gray sweatpants, heading back into the living room to try and persuade you to put down your book and watch a few episodes of “The Witcher” with him instead.

Maneuvering himself around the coffee table and onto the couch, he quickly grabs your legs and props them onto his lap and shoots you a wide smile.

Peering over the top of your book you fix your gaze on his honey-brown irises and quirk an eyebrow at his disruptive actions.

Bradley nods his head to the tv in a silent question, and you hide the growing smile on your face behind the book you’ve had your nose in for the better part of the last few hours. “Bradshaw, can’t you see I’m reading?” you challenged, quirking an eyebrow up at the man sitting in front of you, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

He nods, “I see that, and I raise you with a much more interesting proposition.”

Lowering your book just a tad, you tilt your head to the side and scoff, “Oh really, and what might that be?”

Bradley bites his bottom lip before shooting you a dazzling smile, “You, me, and at least three episodes of ‘The Witcher’, accompanied by pizza and wings, if you’re into that kinda thing?”

You hum at his idea and look up in thought, biting the bottom of your own lip in the process, “I don’t know Bradshaw, this book is really starting to get good, and I’ve been wanting to finish it for like, a week now” you exaggerate.

He gives you ten seconds, and then he’s reaching across the couch to swipe the book from your hands tossing it behind him, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What book?” he smiles again, beaming from ear to ear.

Not able to contain your own smile, you let out a soft laugh, “Go order the pizza, show off.”

Bradley stands, sending you a mock salute as he makes his way to his phone.

“Oh! And I want a Hawaiian pizza Bradshaw!” you call out.

Bradley scrunches his face in disgust at the thought of pineapple on pizza, turning back to you phone now up to his ear as he waits for the line to connect, “Still can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza, it’s a crime.”

“It’s really not!”

Pushing yourself up onto the arm of the couch, you bring your knees to sit underneath you, using your hands for emphasis as you argue the point of how perfect the sweetness of the pineapple compliments the saltiness of the pizza, and all Bradley can do is roll his eyes and smile at how enthusiastic you are. And despite him not agreeing with you, he orders the pizza for you anyway. Moving back to his spot on the couch once he’s placed the order and grabs ahold of your left leg, massaging it as you continue to rant about the different universally accepted sweet and salty combinations.

Once the pizza has been delivered, the two of you spread the small feast across the coffee table, as you start the second season of “The Witcher”.

Every now and then Bradley will make a small comment that makes you laugh, distracting you long enough that you’d have to rewind the show every few minutes to make sure you caught everything. And Bradley would just smile in return, taking pleasure in knowing that he’s the one making you laugh.

Once the pair of you have gotten through the third episode, you exit out of the Netflix app and turn the tv off, and before you can make a move from the couch, Bradley brings up the topic of his friends again and you tell him Friday at six should be good for you.

Sending him a small smile you slide your legs out of his grip and stand from the couch, bringing the leftover pizza with you and placing it in the fridge, Bradley close behind you with the wings. Once everything is put away, the two of you exchange “goodnights” and part ways to your separate rooms, lingering looks, and fond smiles left in the shadows of the dark.

Two Days Later

Friday comes quickly, work having been overwhelming and taking up most of your limited time. The time you normally are reading or hanging out with Bradley is almost nonexistent.

Once you’ve made it back to the apartment you make a beeline for the bathroom to wash off the day. Letting yourself linger under the hot water long after you completed your routine, forcing yourself to turn the water off, step out of the shower, and dry off.

Remembering that Bradley invited his friends to come by tonight, you curse under your breath, wrapping the towel around your body and swinging the bathroom door open, stepping out into the hallway, only to crash into a hard chest.

“Shit” you mumble, scrambling backwards towards the bathroom.

Looking up you make eye contact with Bradley, who’s sporting his black tee and flight suit attire from his day working at the naval base. Gulping you tighten the towel around your body, squeaking out a “sorry” as you try to look past his eyes towards your bedroom door.

Bradley ignores the urge to look down past your eyes, willing himself to think of anything other than your naked body, and shuffles back a few steps to let you past.

You take that as your opportunity to scurry to your room in an attempt at avoiding any more awkward moments for the night. Deciding to throw your thoughts into what outfit you’re going to wear instead of the recent interaction between you and Bradley. Coming up with jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and white socks, you give yourself a onceover in your floor-length mirror and nod at your reflection, leaving the safe space of your room to wander around the kitchen.

Since you and Bradley had ordered pizza earlier on this week, you take it upon yourself to order takeout from the local Chinese restaurant. Not having been able to go out and grab groceries to prepare for tonight’s dinner, ordering Chinese seemed better than ordering pizza for a second time.

The bathroom door opening signals to you that Bradley’s finished showering, almost like a warning of his inevitable presence.

Busying yourself with tidying up the living room, you don’t notice him walk out of the hallway, too focused on how to lay your grandma’s knitted throw blanket over the couch.

Bradley lets out a breath, closing his eyes and wills himself to forget about your moment in the hallway, instead choosing to put his shoes in a more orderly fashion by the front door, and switching the diffuser on as he passes it, the smell of lavender quickly flooding his senses and bringing him back to thoughts that all involve you in nothing but a towel.

Shaking his head, he forces the image of your wide eyes, wet hair, and glowing skin from his mind and moves back to the kitchen to unload the dishwasher.

You finally take notice of him and send him a shy smile. He sends you one back and breaks the silence by asking about your day at work.

Thankful for the distraction, the awkward tension dissipates and the two of you fall into easy conversation until three sharp knocks come from the door.

Looking to Bradley he sends a reassuring smile your way before going to answer the door. The sound of two voices arguing back and forth hit your ears and you instantly smile and let out a small laugh at the loud, “Bagman I swear, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to sew it shut with the next toothpick I can find.”

Composing yourself quickly, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear while you sit at the kitchen island, only standing when a woman with shoulder-length black hair and chocolate brown eyes, moves around the corner.

Once Phoenix makes eye contact with you, she’s instantly grinning and coming closer to give you a polite hug, introducing herself with her callsign and then her name, telling you to call her by whichever, and settles in on the barstool next to yours.

A blond with perfectly styled hair and a smug smirk follows shortly after Phoenix and quickly scans you from head to toe, smirk deepening (if that’s even possible), Bradley right behind him with a sheepish smile on his face as he looks towards you.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” the blond drawls, he’s a little short compared to Bradley and you take note of his southern drawl, Texan maybe?

Eyes flitting from Bradley back to the blond, you let a sarcastic smile settle on your lips and hum, leaning your arm onto the counter, hand forming a fist as you rest your chin, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bagman, isn’t it?”

Nat snuffs out a laugh, hiding her smile behind her hand as she looks at you.

“Hangman, actually.”

“That’s not what I heard,” you retort back, smile staying stationary on your lips, challenging him.

“Oh, I like you,” Nat grins. “I like her” she states, turning to give Bradley a pointed look.

Hangman breaks the stare down choosing to look towards Bradley instead, “I like her too.”

Rolling your eyes at the statement you also turn to Bradley, tongue coming out to swipe across your bottom lip as you point a finger towards Hangman, “I can learn to tolerate him.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle moving to grab a set of beers from the fridge huffing out an, “We all do that, Sweets” the room erupting into laughter at the expense of Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Somehow over the course of the night you and Nat had made your way over to the couch, her sipping on a Heineken and you on a coke, leaving the boys to their own devices in the kitchen.

“So, how long did you say you’ve been roommates again?” Hangman questioned, nodding over to you, toying with the perspiration sweating off his beer bottle.

Bradley brings his beer up to his lips slowly, “About a year now, were good friends” taking a sip after he answers.

Jake hums, “And how long have you been lying to yourself about that second part?”

Bradley whips his head towards Jake, eyebrows pinching at his suggestion, “What?”

Huffing Jake turns his attention from the couch where both you and Natasha have started gossiping about some picture on your phone, back to Bradley, “Bradshaw, when’s the last time you went on a date with a girl, or even hooked up with one?”

Jake is met with silence from the naval aviator, and takes a sip from his beer, “That’s my point. You like her man.”

Bradley leans on the countertop, eyes focusing on the way your eyes light up at something Phoenix says, your giggles filling the space of your shared apartment and making him suppress a fond smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, we’re just roommates, Bagman.”

Jake watches Bradley watching you, a knowing smile breaking his smug façade, then he moves to sip at his beer, glancing back over to you and Nat, “Whatever you say Bradshaw.”

From the way the wind and rain were whipping against the windows of your apartment, you’d think you were dealing with a stage three hurricane, but according to the weatherman it was just a bad storm. Maybe someone should double check his certification.

Every few minutes thunder would rumble, ricocheting off your apartment complex, shaking the building, and sending you into another gathering frenzy. Moving around the apartment in a flurry, you grab the collection of candles you’ve been hoarding and any lighters you can find.

In your rush, you don’t hear Bradley enter the apartment, too busy with collecting all of the necessary items.

Bradley smiles as you pass by him, oversized tee flowing behind you, socks making you skid on the hardwood floors of your apartment as you spread the abundance of candles throughout the living space.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek escapes your lips, narrowly avoiding dropping three candles as you recompose yourself, straightening your back you let out an exasperated breath. Placing the remaining candles down onto the side table you huff, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You turn to face Bradley, who looks like he’s soaked from head to toe; he must’ve left his flight suit at the base today since he’s sporting just a black tee and his workout shorts, “I’m preparing for our inevitable demise.” You exaggerate.

Bradley chuckles at your dramatic opinion of the weather, “I don’t think fifty candles are gonna help us sweetheart.”

You give him a reprimanding look, groaning as you say, “No but they’ll help with our vision whenever the power goes out. And some of us, are afraid of the dark.”

Bradley’s smile softens at your admission and angles himself toward the foyer table, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out the flashlight you’d been looking for. Turning to you and giving it a little wave in an effort to make you feel better.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, “I’ve been looking for that everywhere.”

Giving the flashlight a light toss, Bradley chuckles, “And looking in all the wrong spots apparently.”

Another round of thunder rattles the apartment, making you jump, eyes flashing with fear for a moment. Bradley raises his eyebrows at your reaction and sets the flashlight on the kitchen island.

“You okay?”

You turn to him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, I’m fine. Storms don’t normally bother me but this one just feels like it’s closer to a hurricane than a regular storm.”

Bradley nods at your statement, “You gonna be okay if I take a quick shower?”

Throwing your hand up nonchalantly, you wave him off, “I’ll be fine, probably gonna light a few candles and start a new book.”

His eyes wander the expansion of your face, looking for any cracks in your calm and collected façade you’re putting up. Not finding any, he rationalizes that he’ll only be gone for ten minutes tops, and can coax you into cozying up on the couch to watch another episode of “The Witcher” once he’s finished.

Shooting a reassuring smile your way he side steps out of your way to head to the shower, “I’ll be out shortly sweetheart!”

Shaking your head, you force yourself to move again throughout the apartment, huffing as you grab a case of water and set it on the island.

Standing at the entryway to your home you play with a strand of hair nervously, studying the progress you’ve made throughout the space, giving a decisive nod of approval, before heading off to your room to pick a book and grab a few extra blankets to set on the couch.

The wind has picked up even more now, making the patter of rain on the window hit with a force you thought for sure resembled hail. Shivering at the thought, you clutch your collection of blankets closer to your body and make your way back out to the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and cuddling into your favorite throw pillow, snuggling under the blankets.

Another loud boom of thunder rattles your building, making you let out a soft whimper in response, snuggling further into the couch for comfort. In an effort to calm yourself down you reach across the cushions to grab the pink book peeking out from the collection of blankets, totally abandoned in your haste to hide from the thunder.

You thumb through the first few pages until you see the intricate curvature of the words “Chapter One” typed at the top of the page and immediately immerse yourself into another world of fiction. And within five minutes, you’ve completely forgotten about the raging storm outside, the sharp beating of the rain on the window turning into a dull thumping as your eyes scan the pages in front of you.

Bradley curses to himself at the amount of time he’s spent in the shower, quickly stepping out and drying himself off, throwing on a white tee and his favorite gray sweatpants. Hanging his towel back on his hook, he swiftly opens the door and takes long strides to the living room, reaching his hand around the hallway entrance and poking his head out to see where you’ve scurried off to.

Momentarily panicking when he doesn’t pinpoint your exact location, until his eyes zone in on your blanketed figure on the couch. A grin splits his lips, and he bites the bottom one to contain his chuckle, you’re reading that new book you were talking about, but the way you’ve huddled into the blankets reminds him of the alien from E.T. all wrapped up with only your head being visible.

Sidling up to the frame of the hallway he folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he calls out your name. Actually, letting out a chuckle this time when you don’t acknowledge him.

“You good over there, sweetheart?” he tries again.

This time you do look up, and his heart clenches at the sight of your wide eyes, “Shit! I’m sorry Bradley, how long have you been trying to get my attention?”

“Not long sweets, don’t worry about it.” He juts his chin towards the tv, “What do you think about a few episodes of ‘The Witcher’?”

Glancing down at your book you think about it for a second, it was starting to get interesting but you could never say no to Bradley or “Geralt of Rivia”. So you smile and push the blanket off of your head, “You know,” you clicked your tongue, “I’m starting to think you like this show way more than I do.”

Bradley scoffs, “Definitely not, I’m only suggesting it because there’s nothing else worthy of watching on that godforsaken streaming service.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “just admit it Bradshaw.”

And just as Bradley opens his mouth to give you some smart retort back, a loud crack echoes throughout the room, and the power flickers off. You suppress a scream and instead resort to a quiet whimper.

“Shit sweetheart, are you okay?” Bradley calls.

You bite down on your lower lip and close your eyes to avoid looking into the void of darkness that’s encompassed your apartment, “Not really,” you breathe out.

Bradley goes quiet for a second, trying to make the moment lighthearted in an attempt to make you feel better, “All those candles and you didn’t light any of them huh?”

An offended scoff that closely resembles a whine leaves your lips, “Seriously Bradley.”

“Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious, sweets” Bradley teases.

“At least I thought about this happening and got us prepared,” you sputter out. “Some of us were too busy washing their mustache to care” you sneer, eyes still screwed tightly shut.

Bradley pinches his eyebrows, “Hey now, no hating on the stache.”

“Bradley I can’t see anything and it’s really loud so I’m sorry, but the feelings of your mustache are not on my list of priorities right now” You huff.

“Okay well then how about we try to find the lighter so we can actually see in here?”

“Fantastic idea Bradshaw, best one you’ve had all night,” your tone exaggerated, moving your hands to aid in pushing yourself up from the couch.

Letting out a puff of air, Bradley ignores your comment and starts using his hand to navigate through the living room, hoping he’s getting close to the couch, bumping his knee into what he thinks is the side table, letting out a low groan.

“You okay over there, showoff?” you call out, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “I’m fine.”

You nod your head in understanding and mumble out a quiet, “Okay, good.”

Bradley moves forward again, maneuvering around what he thinks is the coffee table. He can hear your shaky breaths so he’s almost a hundred percent sure he’s a few steps away from the couch.

Growing a little bolder you take two steps forward, which proves fatal as you end up tripping over what felt like a shoe, forcing you to stumble forward in an attempt to catch your footing, throwing your hands out to avoid crashing into anything, only for them to land on Bradley’s warm and hard chest.

Not quite balanced yet, you stumble forward a bit more, Bradley grabbing your wrist in hopes to help steady you, pulling you closer to him in the process.

You haven’t been able to see since the power went out, but having him this close allows you to see the outline of his face and the sparkle of his eyes, your breath hitches in your throat at your proximity and it all becomes overwhelmingly intimate.

Looking away from his profile into the darkness, you momentarily forget about the fear of the storm and instead are distracted by the very muscular, very attractive man; that is your roommate, currently holding you.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Bradley whispers.

Closing your eyes, you turn your head and force a shaky breath out from your lips, “Yeah, just tripped over a shoe or something.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He mumbles, voice a little raspier than normal.

Shit.

Your eyes shoot open, your head tilting back to face him, “If you’re referring to the fact that it’s darker than a black hole in here right now, then no, I’m not okay, I would really appreciate at least one of those candles being lit right about now.”

Another roll of thunder crashes into your living room, echoing along the walls and through your chest, making you press further into Bradley’s firm hold.

Closing your eyes again you huff, “I’m sorry.”

Bradley moves the hand that doesn’t have a grip on your wrist around your back, tugging you into his warm embrace, “You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart,” he reassures, resting his chin on top of your head as he speaks.

You sigh, allowing yourself just for a moment, to enjoy how close he is right now. Just roommates you remind yourself.

“I swear I’m not usually this bad with them,” you mumble against his chest, referring to the raging storm outside.

Bradley’s chuckle rumbles through his chest, nodding his head in understanding, “Where do you think that lighter is right about now?”

“I have no idea, maybe on the island? That’s where I put the majority of stuff.” You mumble, placing your hands flat against him to aid in inching yourself away from his chest.

Bradley hums, keeping a firm grip on your wrist as he steps back slowly towards the kitchen, pulling you with him. “Okay,” he nods, “Lets focus on getting the flashlight and then the lighter. That sound okay with you?”

Feeling the way his thumb is rubbing small circles into your skin, you whisper out a “Yeah,” gulping down your nerves that are so frazzled you’re not sure if it’s from the storm, or from how tender he’s being.

Taking a few more short steps; with Bradley leading the way, the two of you eventually make it to the kitchen island. Bradley letting your hand go in favor of roaming his over the countertop, blindly searching for the flashlight while you focus on finding the lighter. After what seems like hours, Bradley announces his accomplishment and flicks the button on the metal piece of the flashlight, a beam of light hitting your pupils making you flinch and close your eyes. Bradley cursed under his breath in apology, moving the light down towards the countertop in search of the lighter, allowing you to reopen your eyes and get accustomed to the new source of light.

Eyes scanning over your pile of necessities, you spot the lighter peeking out from behind one of the candles.

“Found it,” you sigh in relief.

Bradley’s eyes pan over to you from where he’s standing, watching as you reach past an emerald, green candle that has a picture of the woods wrapped around it; the words “sandalwood” in some typewriter font scribbled at the top, and pull the lighter out of the dark and into the beam of light coming from the flashlight.

Meeting Bradley’s eyes you shoot him a soft smile, giving the lighter a little wave, “Lets light these candles.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through Bradley’s chest while he shakes his head in amusement, “Leave it to you to make a ‘The Boys’ reference.”

You smile, turning away from him as you grab the same emerald, green candle that he was just looking at, clicking the lighter on and pushing it against the wick, “It’s not my fault okay, there’s some great one-liners in there. I just so happen to be capable of altering it to fit our scenario.”

The sky rumbles shortly after your statement and has you kicking into gear, setting the newly lit candle back down onto the island and moving swiftly throughout the apartment, lighting as many candles as you can to brighten up the room, but also not enough to be a fire hazard.

Lighting the last cream-colored candle by the couch, you straighten up and turn towards the room to look at your handiwork, Bradley standing next to you doing the same as he clicks the flashlight off. A soft yellow glow has settled in different areas of the living room and kitchen, the areas surrounding it darker, the further away you get from the candles. “I think that’s good enough.” You murmur, arms crossing over themselves while you scan the space.

Bradley hums in approval, moving an arm around your shoulder and tugging you closer to him.

“What do you wanna do now sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice is soft as he asks his question, allowing his thumb to rub small circles onto your deltoid. It’s comforting.

Allowing your guard to slip, you lean further into his body, turning your head up to look at him, whispering, “Can you sit with me on the couch while I read?” Eyes flickering towards the darkness of your room before returning to his gaze, “I just don’t want to be by myself right now.” You mumble.

And for what feels like the millionth time in the past year, Bradley’s heart skips at your confession, his mouth wanting to grin at just how cute you are and pull you into his chest. Instead, however, he settles for a soft smile and a, “Anything for you sweetheart.”

Gripping your shoulder tighter, he pulls you back towards the comfort of the couch making himself comfortable as he settles into the cushions, allowing you to leave his embrace to grab your book. But once you try to sit back at the opposite end of the couch, Bradley immediately grips your wrist and tugs you back to him.

“You’re gonna end up here anyway, sweetheart, just sit with me.” He rasps out, his warm breath hitting your ear, making you shiver.

Not trusting your words, you hum in response, letting him guide you back into his chest, propping your knees up to rest your book on them as you open it, conveniently landing on the page you had last read.

Somewhere in your brain a little voice was screaming at you that this isn’t what normal roommates do, getting a little louder once Bradley hooked his left arm around your waist, but an even louder voice was telling you just to enjoy it while you could. And in the end, what did it matter anyway? You were going to read and the two of you would part ways once the power came back on to your respective beds and everything would go back to normal. So, what’s the harm in lying here with him now?

The thunder was still rolling outside along with the sharp gusts of wind, but now that you were reading in Bradley’s arms you honestly couldn’t hear it anymore. And what felt like a few short minutes, turned into three hours, your eyes growing heavy, almost dropping the book on your face once you started to nod off.

Becoming mildly alert, you shift your body upwards to set your book on the coffee table, turning to tell Bradley you were going to bed, only to see him peacefully sleeping with his head tilted back onto the throw pillow, right arm flexed behind to support his head as he slept.

Smiling softly to yourself you shake your head and move to get up to go sleep in your bed, only to be anchored down by Bradley’s arm.

Frowning, you grab his hand with yours and begin to try and peel it away from you, Bradley’s grip only growing tighter and successfully pulling you back against him, your hand promptly landing on his chest to avoid faceplanting into it.

Just when you were about to make a second attempt Bradley’s raspy voice rings loud in your ears, “Stop trying to leave me.” He grumbles. Eyes still closed he brings his second arm around your back and pulls you tight against his chest, “Just stay.”

Biting your bottom lip at his drowsy statement, you try to pull your body away from him again, his arms only squeezing tighter around you. “Bradshaw, I need to go to bed,” you huff. Bradley pushes his body further down the couch, keeping you in place as he makes himself comfortable, “Sleep here” he mumbles.

Jesus Christ he’s gonna put you in an early grave.

You allow your eyes to examine his face, the way that his eyelashes touch the tops of his cheeks, sweeping over the tiny freckles littering his face, and stopping at the curve of his lips. Goddamnit. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut, you can’t do this.

“Bradley” you whisper, voice shaky as you break your gaze from his face and focus on the flickering candlelight, “I really can’t sleep here.”

This pulls him from his drowsy state almost instantaneously and has him fluttering his eyes open, blinking a few times to bring his gaze into focus.

His thumb has a mind of its own it seems, since you feel it push under the fabric of your t-shirt and rub your skin in small circular motions, biting your bottom lip to refrain from doing anything rash, a small “Bradley,” slips past your lips, tone warning.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he brings his other hand up to your face and forces your gaze back to him. It’s quiet as the two of you stare at each other, blood rushing in your ears over the silence that’s only broken by the distant roar of thunder.

Sighing, you start to move your body backwards to put some distance between the two of you, “Bradley, I need to go to- “, your sentence is cut off by Bradley, who’s pulled you down and collided his lips with your own. Your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips on yours, a moment passing before you understand what’s happening and push your lips against his.

The hand that Bradley has resting against your cheek pulls you further against him, fingers curling around the nape of your neck to keep you close, as you melt into the kiss, his lips caressing yours, mustache tickling your upper lip as they slot together over and over again, until you pull away to catch your breath.

Your eyes flutter open, reconnecting with Bradley’s. His honey-brown eyes have a certain glow behind them as he takes you in, leaning forward to recapture your lips with his own, “Stay.”

Closing your eyes again, you push your lips against his, letting them linger there for a moment before you lean back, and whisper out a breathy, “Okay.”

A soft, adoring smile pulls at Bradley’s lips, giving his head a short nod as he leans the two of you back, settling himself into the couch cushions while you pull your grandma’s knitted blanket off the back of the couch and over the two of you. Nuzzling yourself into his neck, placing a few chaste kisses along the scars that have made homage there. Slipping your hand under his white t-shirt while you mutter, “Just so you know,” another kiss, “I will be milking the fuck out of this.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle, kissing the top of your head briefly before closing his eyes, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

Nat and Jake had come over again for another dinner night. This time, you chose to make dinner, a simple “lasagna roll-up” recipe you found on pinterest that has never failed you when it came to impressing guests.

Bradley and Jake were sitting at the kitchen island, mulling over the salad Bradley had just finished tossing while Jake gave him “pointers”, occasionally stealing glances at the two women sitting on the couch, deep in gossip.

Every now and then you’d look over and send Bradley a soft smile, until Natasha grabbed your attention with another story of the shenanigans that had taken place earlier on base. Jake watching the love-sick expression on Bradley’s face, and stewing in the knowledge that Bradley Bradshaw had it bad for you; just like Jake had told him he was several weeks ago.

“Took you long enough Bradshaw,” Jake poked, bringing the beer he’d been holding up to his lips and taking a sip, smirk prominent on his face.

Bradley spared Jake a glance before returning his attention back to you, clicking his tongue, “When are you gonna tell Phoenix how you feel, Seresin?”

Jake’s eyes flicked to Nat’s figure currently relaxing on the gray couch, not giving anything away, keeping his expression in his traditional cocky smirk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Rooster.” Taking another sip of his beer, Jake moves his body off the stool and towards the living room, sitting himself down ungracefully next to Nat, her throwing an irritated look at him.

Rooster suppresses a chuckle at his teammates and shakes his head before moving himself to sit next to you, easing his arm around your shoulder, you relaxing into his embrace immediately.

Jake leans onto the arm of couch, permanent smirk etched onto his lips, “Okay I gotta know. What got you hooked on our very own ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw?”

Nat smacks Jake’s wrist and immediately reprimands him with an annoyed “and this is why we only tolerate you, Bagman” while you sit there, a blushing mess, as Bradley rubbed small circles into your shoulder.

You mull it over in your head for a second while Nat continues to reprimand Jake before you speak up, “Honestly?”

Everyone goes quiet at your consideration of Jake’s question, apart from Jake who lets his famous smirk return to his face, “I’d love to hear the honest answer.”

You look up at the ceiling briefly, cheeks flushing as you mumble, “Definitely the mustache.”

The room immediately erupts into laughter, Jake and Nat rushing out questions at a million miles a second, while you cover your face in embarrassment.

Bradley just chuckles to himself and pulls your face into his side, kissing the top of your head, emphasizing the rub of his mustache against your forehead, making you burrow further into his side.

“Just Roommates my ass!”

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #topgun maverick #topgun fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines

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hwaflms · 4 days

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ nct 127 as 1d songs!

‧₊˚ 💭 ✩彡 , , 0.69k, fluff + slight suggestive + slight angst, just lil snippets of you and 127 with one direction songs, not my usual writing style, TELL ME UR FAV 1D TRACKS

♡ taeil . . . last first kiss

rainy days, soft smiles and soft kisses, nicknames, casual dates, putting away groceries, taking photos of things to show each other later, promises, painting dates, secret handshakes, prolonged stares, drawing each other, approving photos to post, kisses on the top of your head, karaoke nights, trying street food together, song recommendations, deep questions, laughing over some soju, denial and hesitation, splashing each other with wet hands

♡ taeyong . . . little things

LONG showers, buying clothes for you, matching jewellery, folders in your galleries for each other, perfume, long talks over tea, words of affirmation, flowers, crying in front of each other, wine nights, slow dancing, sending you reminders to eat, falling asleep over call, learning ukulele together, staying-in days, holding hands 99.99999% of the time, corny jokes, bike rides, playing video games, cutting fruit for each other, naps while it's raining outside

♡ johnny . . . she's not afraid

secret movie dates, drive-thru mcdonald’s, tight dresses, tousled hair, long video calls, subtle lock screens, orange-scented soap, sneaking out at night, drunken confessions, the two of you together in the background of every photo, watching scary shows, kissing in the dark, running, texting while in the same room, lying in his arms, windy nights, knowing each others favourite songs, screenshots, hushed whispers, road trips, dancing in the kitchen

♡ yuta . . . perfect

parties at 1 am, hailing taxis, long sloppy kisses, tucking hair behind each others ears, red bull cans, blasting music in the car, ice cream runs, eye contact, skinny dipping, cheap hotels, playing pool, texting late at night, beach walks, wind blowing in your face, meeting in secret, italian restaurants, thin cigarettes, messy sheets and hair, windows all the way down, knowing smiles, wearing his shirt at home, soft gasps, motel pools, cherry lip balm, getting tattoos together, getting kicked out of parties

♡ doyoung . . . half a heart

soft sweaters, missed calls, buying his detergent, matching rings, soft wispy clouds, two different kinds of juices in your fridge, puddles, picnic dates, mixed up socks, never deleting photos, the first text after an argument, books with notes in them, walks by the river, watching a show together, conversations in the dark, spontaneous coffee meet-ups, naming plants, museum visits, drives in the rain, saving memes about each other, empty lockets

♡ jaehyun . . . no control

stargazing, drinking on rooftops, meeting at parties, red cups, pool nights, lipstick stains, the smell of his perfume, oversized clothing, driving fast when the roads are empty, voice messages, morning kisses, private playlists, tinted taxis, looking for each other in a room, holding your hair back, strong coffee, silk pillowcases, clothes on the floor, selfies on each others phones, muffled moans, drunk tattoos, pinching his cheeks

♡ jungwoo . . . 18

amusement park dates, walks at night, letters on beige paper, photo booth pictures, ugly keychains, playing on the seesaw when the playgrounds empty, passing notes, keeping said notes, bracelets, having each other as your lock screen, messy beds, lists of baby names, knowing each other's favourite songs, extra toothbrushes, shampoo bottles, yearbook cutouts, shoebox filled with letters and trinkets, holding pinkies, random texts throughout the day, talking to his mom on the phone, long calls

♡ mark . . . i want to write you a song

pure innocent love, cafe dates, warm hugs, board games and hot chocolate, writing songs for you, sharing clothes, pecks while smiling, cookie recipes, said cookies ending up burnt, karaoke nights, acoustic guitars, writing desks, cheek kisses, grocery shopping, badly taken polaroids, long walks, late night conversations, photo albums, beanies when it's cold, holding hands under the table, wearing his glasses, breakfast in bed, bouquets, scarfs, walks along the sand

♡ haechan . . . temporary fix

stolen glances, smokey rooms, making out in the back of a taxi, moonlight, hair flying in the wind, playing footsie under the table, jealousy, talking on the phone late at night, eyes meeting across the room, drunken kisses, sitting on his lap, lots of 'are you awake?' texts, vodka sours, mirrored lense sunglasses, dyeing each other's hair, locking doors, lips on your neck, avoiding questions, stupid contact names, waking up in his clothes, empty wine bottles, bright sunsets, 10+ tiktoks and memes every morning, voice notes of him singing

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foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland · 4 days

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piece based on the idea that Dakota might've started learning guitar to play along with Ashe's drums ^_^ Ambigiously timed but was originally gonna be post s2 (tho their designs here look more s1)

Extras under the cut, as usual :3 AND a VERY detailed ID since this piece is a big one

Detailed ID: a drawing of Dakota Cole and Ashe Winters from Just Roll With It: Prime Defenders, sitting in Ashe’s dorm room.

Ashe is sitting on the bed, with one arm behind her head and the other rested on her stomach, while Dakota is lying on his back on the floor holding an electric guitar, legs kicked up on the bed next to Ashe.

Ashe has white skin, long curly white hair, a few freckles, and is looking down at Dakota with an open mouthed smile. She is wearing a dark purple beanie with pins of Madeline from Celeste, the Welcome to Nightvale logo, and the knight from Hollow Knight partially covered by her hair.

She is also wearing a shirt with the album cover of I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning by Bright Eyes. Over the shirt is Dakota's red flannel. She's wearing black jeans, one black and green sock, and one purple and black sock with cat ears at the top and cat paws at the toes.

Dakota has mid-brown skin with a few moles, and medium lengthed, curly, bright red hair thats splayed out across the floor. his eyes are shut tight and his eyebrows are furrowed, whilst hes smiling widely.

He has a black bandana around his forehead. On his neck is a chain, and attached to that is a purple heart with the letter 'A' on it. He's wearing a white tank top, that exposes his shoulder which features a temporary Ms G tattoo of her face accompanied with the words 'Ms G' in a galaxy pattern.

Dakota's wearing beige shorts, and has another temporary tattoo on his thigh which reads 'Teaching Moment' in galaxy text. his socks are white.

The blue and white electric guitar he's holding has a sticker that says 'Prime defenders' in black and white, and another sticker that says 'Just Roll With It' in gold and purple. At the top of the guitar near the tuning pegs, it reads 'Prime'.

They are in Ashe's dorm room. Her bed has a blue mattress and a green blanket that's pushed against the pillow away from Ashe, and draping off the side of the bed onto the floor. On the part of the blanket that's on the bed, there is a plush of Morgana from Persona 5, and another plush of Bacon Man. On the part of the blanket that's on the floor, there is a Nintendo DS, except with the word 'Primtendo' written on it. On the side of the bed there are 3 stickers; one of Hatsune Miku, one of Mae Borowski from Night In The Woods, and one of Tony's Pizza.

On the purple carpeted floor underneath the bed, theres a cardboard box labelled 'Secrets'. There is also an oval rug that Dakota is lying on that has a green, yellow, blue, and red circular design. ontop of this is a pair of headphones with the wire spiralling across the floor, and an amp that Dakota's guitar is plugged into. the front of the amp has the word Prime where the brand name of an amp would be usually

Next to Ashe's bed is a set of shelves. On the flat side facing the bed, there is a My Chemical Romance poster of the album cover of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. Under this poster are 3 photos, of Ashe and Dakota ice skating, Ashe and William walking on traintracks, and Ashe and William taking a selfie in bed. Next to these three photos are two school schedules, labelled 'Ashe Winters' Schedule' and 'Vyncent Sol's Schedule'.

On the shelves, the top shelf has a lit candle next to a box of matches. Next to these are 4 books titled 'The Carnival Of Souls', 'Planetary Problems', 'The Purps' and 'Overlord'. The shelf below this has a plant with small white flowers, in a ceramic pot with a blue heart, a red heart, and a purple heart on it. Next to this is a bottle of ibuprofen, and a turned on purple lava lamp. Behind these are more books titled 'The New Generation', 'Island Of Amal- [cut off]', 'Ultraviolent Light', '[cut off] -Don't R- [cut off],' and 'Good Cop, Ghos- [cut off]'

Underneath that shelf is an open drawer with two fairylight chains trailing out. One is in RGB colours and the other is golden. On the closed drawer below that, there is a Welcome to Nightvale sticker.

On the white wall behind Ashe, there is a window to her left. outside the light is golden, and there is a street. Behind Ashe's head is a Thank You Scientist poster of the album Maps Of Non-Existent Places, a Car Seat Headrest poster of the album Twin Fantasy, and a trans flag. There are also messages in smudged ink reading: '[cut off] -ncent was here !!!', 'Ashe. W [cut off] -s here :3', 'DC wus here <3', 'wiwi waz here [ghost doodle]' and 'love u man'

End ID.

#night thoughts #art thoughts #jrwi #jrwi prime defenders #prime defenders #jrwi pd #ashe winters #dakota cole #demonkicks #this shit took me like. almost a month to make #i am surprised the file hasnt corrupted even once <3

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queenendless · 4 months

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❄️🎄🎁☃️Merry Making (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader ft Various JJK) ☃️🎁🎄❄️

A/n: I AM SO LATE TO THE PARTY!

Holiday fluff, ships, and so on, ya know the drill.

SO PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE COPY TRANSLATE STEAL OR REPOST MY FANFIC CONTENT. Rather reblog like and follow please and thnx u.

Fuzzy coziness in beige white and cream filled your eyes.

Early light streamed through the curtains.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n~” Satoru's purr was layered with pecks strewn all over your face, bringing a smile to the surface.

The feline man cradled Suguru's head as he gave him the same wakening treatment. “Merry Christmas, Suguru~!”

Said man deeply humming against the crook of your neck had you squirming and giggling, especially as his sweatered arms hugged you close enough to where his grip was too firm to break free from.

“So early,” Suguru grumbled raspily, pulling away from your neck to yawn in his knuckles.

“Better than being late for the day when I embrace my destiny as Saint Nicky~ Imma go get all fancied up for the rascals. I better see you coming right behind me all decked out, hubbie~” Gojo planted one big wet smooch on Geto's lips before giving you the same lovely treatment, pulling a garment bag outta the closet, giving you two a smile and a peace sign before dipping into the adjoining bathroom.

“Sugu?” Your pajama self moved to splay atop your slowly awakening husband.

“Hmm?” He rubbed his eyes, blinking to clear up the murkiness, when the feeling of your lips on his got him to be fully awake.

“Merry Christmas.”

He embraced you, kissing you in kind. “Merry Christmas, love~”

“Tada!” Springing out the bathroom door stood Gojo Claus. Beard, hat, boots and all. “Time to get the sack! Suguru, suit up!” The man warped away.

“Lord I will regret this.” Geto muttered under his breath before lifting you off him so he could get out of bed and pull out his garment bag out of the closet too, heading to the bathroom after giving you a wink. “See you in a bit, honey.”

A few days ago, you celebrated with everyone by throwing a Christmas party at the Tokyo school as it was the one chance you could throw one due to everyone having plans over the holidays.

You even had a Kiritanpo hot pot as the main dish, Christmas version. And a big one at that to fill everybody up.

You hummed as you started up your phone only to see notifications from your group chats. Opening it up, you viewed the photos sent to your phone ever since that night.

One of Haibara beaming brightly as he and a flustered Nanami were lounging on a beach in Malaysia, shades on and a drink in Yu's hands while Kento read off the stack of books he plans to read.

Another one showed Shoko and Utahime in the capital, Kuala Lumpur, with the former kissing the whipped cream off her wife's lips from their shared mug of spicy cocoa along a balcony setting of their lit up resort.

A snapshot of Riko and Misato in a ski lift viewing the snowy hills of a ski resort along the Alps with Yuki, Choso and Kamo skiing together down the slopes below.

More pics kept on piling in.

Miwa and Kokichi taking a sleigh ride through the falling snow, smooching his now beet red face.

Mai and Momo skating across a ginormous ice rink while doing it with such grace.

Todo catching a Takada-chan plushie THE Takada kissed on stage during her live Christmas bash, chucking it to the enormous crowds, hearts and tears in his eyes cause OF COURSE he caught it.

Kusakabe in a tavern drinking with Higurama; one of the many new sorcerers, flushed but at ease.

Yaga and Gakuganji sharing sake together.

Nothing from Mei, but knowing her, she's in a tub filled with cash, with Ui letting her do whatever cause he loves her so … yeah …

And knowing Toji and Shiu, they're probably taking shots while looking out over the balcony of their apartment window and just watching the land being draped in a blanket of snow.

A beaming Nobara and a flushed Maki going through holiday themed boutiques with a shy Fumi and an endearing Saori-chan in tow, so many bags already piling over in their arms.

Rika and Toge doting over a flushing nervous Yuta, spooning him on both sides, lounging in his apartment, with Panda acting as their cuddle couch, snacking on Christmas cookies, egg nog trailing down his conked out face.

Getting lost in holiday feels, you nearly forgot about the other presence in the room but the fuzzy sensations overwhelmed you. Your squeaking giggles were overshadowed by his conniving cackles streaming out as those furry fingers gently tickled you and those smart ass lips kissing your adorable face.

“Letting your guard down makes you vulnerable. It's difficult to resist you, my distracting beautiful wife~” Suguru crooned in your neck, horns on his head and cane in hand as he stopped the tickling to kiss your cheek then easily carried you up in one arm, letting your phone plop onto the sheets. “Now, let's go before Satoru drags us out himself.”

Fairy lights flashed many colors hanging strewn above across the living room ceiling.

A tall traditional tree stood in the corner. Tinsel, ornaments, string lights, and a small start plopped on top decorate the pine.

And Yuji and Junpei awoke to the smell of pancakes being made. Peaking into the kitchen, they spotted Megumi and Tsumiki already having platters full of Christmas tree shaped flapjacks lining up the island. Nanako and Mimiko were prepping up some hot cocoa with marshmallows.

When a sack of presents literally filled up the kitchen like magic.

“Ho ho ho!”

“Santa Claus!” Yuji's chibi self lit up with stars in his eyes at the bearded glasses wearing man poking his head in.

“Santa?” Junpei and Megumi weren't convinced.

The girls giggled, knowing who it was but going along with the cuteness.

A silky raven head with horns on top of his head popped out from the other door, cane in hand. “Yo.”

“K - K - KRAMPUS!?” Yuji turned blue at the alarming sight.

“Geto-sama!” The twins tackled their papa, giddy over his furry onesie look.

The snow began falling that early morning.

As the puppy dog that is Yuji dragged a scolding Megumi outside who didn't want to abandon his cooking duty and let a fire start when a handful of snow was smushed into his now welt forming face.

Yuji's speed was tested by Divine Dog Totality with Megumi riding atop, chasing his salmon boi across the private snowy grounds, as snowballs streaked the air.

A concern Tsumiki tried yelling out her scolding remarks to her brother as she ran out the back patio doors but he was too far off to hear, so her exasperated self plopped down into the snow, getting into the mood to cool down and make a snow angel.

Junpei floundered, his arms and legs jerking as he was doing his best to stay upright even as Tsumiki legit dragged him down with a radiant smile sent his way, going with the flow with a dopey smile on his face.

“SU.GU.RU~!”

“Yeah?”

“Lookie lookie!”

The puffy albino kitty cat and his raven furry mate nuzzled their heels, scurrying out between their legs and through the slide open back doors with cat sized Santa hats on, chasing each others tails.

“Catoru and Cuguru are matching! Say cheese!” Gojo Claus pulled out his phone to take so many pics.

Catoru's chirpy meow and Cuguru's calm meow were all they gave before trotting over to the twins, nuzzling their ankles as they built their snowmen family. Making sure to include a blindfold for one of them and a Gojo Kuja for its snow partner.

“Suguru … THINK FAST!”

Like future father in law, like future son in law.

The side of Geto's face was smothered in snow, giving off a welt mark contrasting Gojo's shit eating smirk.

“Prepare to die … SATORU!”

Choosing to retract his shikigami in preference of handling this matter himself, Megumi rolled across the snowy grounds as he and Yuji's snowball chucking garnered everyone else's attention, especially colliding with Gojo getting his face smushed with powder by a hissing Geto.

A soft rough coughing noise garnered their attention.

All their snowy heads plopped out of their white puffy pile.

Seeing you in that fuzzy velvet robe flowing from the blowing wind, your snug jammies, and velvet slippers as you walked out to admire the falling snow, breathing out to see your breath in a puffy white cloud, fading into purity.

Powder slowly descended from the heavens as you watched, entranced, as you gracefully floated.

“Unless you all want breakfast to get cold, come back inside.”

“Mrs. Claus.” Satoru breathed out in wonder at your tender voice.

“Are we getting our present?” Suguru coyly asked.

Devotion covered your face as you smiled, pressing a hand on your small growing baby bump. “You already have.”

“Oh yeah.” Those two exchanged smirks.

They gently pulled you down to submerge you in their suited powdery embrace, laughing at their gobsmacked expressions as you pulled out some mistletoe from your pockets to hang above your heads.

Lots of kisses between you three.

Yuji snuck in one to Megumi who slunk back in the snow, melting it from how hot he got.

It would be a while until breakfast would be eaten and presents be opened.

But even so …

Christmas had come at last.

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beansprean · 1 year

Text

Waiting on Mr. Right

My Exchangeapalooza gift for @jay-auris !! See it HERE on A03 and check out all the other fabulous entries HERE!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID page 1: 1. Interior of a bar, romantically lit, and covered in heart balloons, heart and cupid decorations, heart shaped light strings, and various small round tables with two chairs each. The tables are occupied with male/female couples in mid conversation. A waitress dressed in black jeans, black button up, and a white apron around her waist walks through with a tray. In the foreground is the corner of the bar counter, which has a small sign advertising 'Valentine's Day Speed Dating' On February 13 between 7pm and 10pm. A little cupid cartoon is pictured on the sign saying 'Every time a bell rings, ladies move on to your next date!' At the bottom, it says 'Find your Valentine! (before it's too late)'. 2a. Close up of Nandor on a salmon background lighter at the top and darker at the bottom, dressed up in his finest red and gold fur trimmed coat, sitting at one of the small tables, hands folded in front of him. He stares expectantly forward and says, 'I am glad to hear your parents are dead; I never liked any of my previous 37 wives' parents. 2b. Reverse shot of a middle aged black woman in a red turtleneck sitting across from him, arms crossed with an uncomfortable expression as she stares back at him with no response. 2c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 3a. Close up of Nandor, leaning over the table with his fingers pressed together, presenting his date with a lascivious smile. He says, 'How many times a day do you expect cunnilingus?' 3b. Reverse shot of a white middle aged redhead across from him, dressed in a mauve v neck sweater and nervously avoiding eye contact while gulping a glass of white wine. 3c. A brown hand in a dark beige suit sleeve rings a small golden bell. 4a. Close up of Nandor, smiling sweetly with his hands folded in his lap as he says 'Without a word spoken between us, I find myself falling deeply in love. Do you feel this also?' 4b. Reverse shot of a middle aged southeastern Asian woman with a bob and large glasses. She still has her coat in her arms and hasn't even slipped her bag off her shoulder, and there is an untouched menu in front of her. With an expression of vague disgust, she replies'...No.' 4c. Reverse shot as the woman gets up to leave, Nandor planting his fists on the table and calling out 'Hey, the bell has not rung yet!' 5. Close up of Nandor as he crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, mumbling angrily to himself 'Clearly she has no idea how dating works.' A waiter reaches into frame to grab the abandoned menu and snorts in response. 6. Zoom out as Nandor jerks his head around to whine, affronted, at the waiter, 'Ayy, what, waiter-man? Where is the joke?' The waiter, who appears to be Guillermo wearing a black button down, black pants and a white apron around his waist, holds the menu up with both hands to shield his face, replying 'Sorry, sorry! Nothing!' /end page 1

ID page 2: 1. As Guillermo hides behind the menu, Nandor holds his hand up in a useless hypnosis gesture and barks 'I am Nandor the Relentless and I command you to tell me!' 2. Close up of Guillermo as he peeks cautiously over the top of the menu. Offscreen, Nandor continues, 'You are seeing so many people here have success...' 3. Close up of Nandor looking pleadingly upward as he says 'What am I doing wrong?' 4. Guillermo fully lowers the menu with a cautious smile, replying 'I mean...I guess you come on a little strong?' 5. Wide shot of them both. Nandor makes an affronted expression and curls one arm up to show off his bicep, gesturing to it with his other hand. He says, 'I am strong! I am very strong! Do modern women no longer admire strength?' Guillermo, holding the menu under one arm, holds up both hands in a soothing gesture and responds frantically 'Nonono, for sure! I just meant that you're acting really intense right off the bat!' 6. Close up on Nandor with a thoughtful hand on his chin as Guillermo continues offscreen: 'Talking love and marriage...it's too soon for a first date.' Nandor: 'Ahh... This is more third date talk?' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking exasperated but resigned as he reluctantly agrees: '...Sure.' 7. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor asks offscreen: 'So what is first date talk?' Guillermo replies, counting off on his fingers, 'Well, it depends on the person, but generally... Get-to-know-you questions? Like where did you grow up, how many siblings do you have, that kind of stuff.' 8. Close up on Nandor as he turns his face away to glare into the middle distance, a sudden shadow melting half his face into darkness as he says 'I grew up in the faraway kingdom of Al Qolnidar, which no longer exists, and I had seven siblings, all of whom are now dead.' There is a small reaction shot of Guillermo looking shocked and cornered, unsure how to respond to all that. 9. Wide shot from Nandor's other side as he raises his eyebrows guilelessly and gestures to Guillermo with a hand, prompting, 'And then you answer?' Guillermo jolts in place, surprised to be placed in the date's role, and replies 'Oh, yeah, uh. Your date would answer, too. Um. I grew up here in the Bronx and I'm an only child.' 10. Repeat. Nandor and Guillermo both stare expectantly at the other. 11. Repeat. Nandor drops his gaze with a frown, eyes hooding, and grunts 'Hm. This is very boring, waiter-man.' Guillermo, flustered and irritated, throws his arms out in a helpless gesture and snaps 'Well, you have to actually engage in the conversation! Ask follow-up questions! And it's Guillermo!' Nandor says, uninterested, 'What is.' /end page 2

ID page 3: 1a. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly pink background as he points a finger sternly and states 'My name! It's Guillermo.' 1b. Reverse shot of Nandor looking up at him, almost dazed, cheeks flushed a bit purple as he echoes 'Guillermo...' 1c. Reverse shot of Guillermo as he withdraws his hand to curl it protectively against his chest. He looks a bit taken aback by the reaction, cheeks gone a ruddy pink. 2. Wide shot of them both on a red-violet background crisscrossed with multicolored lights. Guillermo looks away from Nandor nervously, blushing and sweaty, patting his free hand anxiously on the menu held under his arm. He stutters out, 'I, uh. Anyway, I gotta-' Nandor, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at Guillermo with a besotted expression, interrupts, saying 'You are very wise in the ways of dating, Guillermo.' He puts extra emphasis on the name. 3. Close up on Guillermo as Nandor continues: 'You have been on many dates?' Guillermo fidgets, still looking away, and mumbles back 'Not, not like a lot, no. Not like a large amount. Like a normal amount, probably.' 4. Wide shot as Nandor lifts his head and leans closer with a small smile, asking 'And how do your suitors woo you? If they are asking you on a second date?' Guillermo is startled into making eye contact and goes red, clutching the menu to his chest with both hands as he sweats nervously. 5. Repeat. Nandor leans even closer, smile widening into something more flirtatious as Guillermo stiffens and looks away again, somehow getting even redder as his shaky mouth pulls into an uncertain grin. Guillermo stutters out, 'I mean...assuming the first date went well...um...' 6. Close up on Guillermo, smiling nervously even as he avoids eye contact. He says, 'I guess he might...get me flowers?' 7. Close up on Nandor on a bubbly peach background from Guillermo's POV, looking up patiently as he listens. Guillermo continues offscreen: 'He'd...tell me how much he enjoys my company, or...pay me a genuine compliment.' 8. Close up on Guillermo on a bubbly peach background from Nandor's POV, his smile softened and eyes far away as he continues: 'And...whisk me off somewhere fun. Somewhere new. Somewhere we could...stumble in to an adventure together. Away from everything else. And we'd stay up all night because we just...didn't want it to end.' /end page 3

ID page 4: 1. Close up on Guillermo's hand, crossed over his opposite arm, as Nandor nudges his fingers underneath to free his grip. Nandor starts softly, 'And...' 2. Wide shot on a bubbly pink background. Nandor has taken Guillermo's hand and is holding it like a knight would a lady, gazing down at it softly as if readying to kiss it. He continues, '...how many of your suitors have done this for you?' Guillermo, dazed, gazes down at their hands and replies '...I... I don't think anyone would...' 3. The plain green background wall slams back into view as a bell rings offscreen. Wide-eyed and red-faced, Guillermo snatches his hand away from Nandor and flings it upward as if tossing the moment over his shoulder. Nandor is left frozen, hand in the air, eyes wide in shock. 4. Repeat. Guillermo begins to back away from the table, tossed arm coming around to rub at the back of his neck. He looks up and away, sweating , red, and awkward as he chokes out a loud forced laugh and says 'Well, that definitely counts as coming on too strong. Terrible advice, don't do that.' Nandor leans after him, hand hovering in midair, squeaking out 'A-' 5. Repeat. Without letting Nandor finish, Guillermo disappears out of frame with a hasty 'Ok bye good luck!', leaving Nandor saying nothing but question marks, hand still frozen in the air as if reaching out after him. In the foreground, a woman with long brown hair and a dark pink sweater steps into view to take the seat in front of Nandor. 6. Slight zoom, the background returning to the light and dark salmon as Nandor settles back into his seat. The woman across from him, out of focus in shadow, says 'Hi, I'm Kjersten! Um...that's a really interesting outfit...' Nandor doesn't appear to be listening and is staring after Guillermo thoughtfully, a Mona Lisa curl to his lips. /end page 4

ID page 5: 1. Low angle of an alleyway, fenced at the rear and surrounded by tall buildings in multiple vague colors with some spray painted areas. Snow is piled up on either side of the center path against the sidewalk. In the foreground, there is a dumpster. A pink text box at the top reads February 14, 12:07 am. Halfway down the alley, a door opens and Guillermo steps halfway out, missing his apron but having added a coat, carrying a full garbage bag. A voice from inside calls, 'Guillermo, you can head out when you're done, okay?' Guillermo's breath steams into the air as he turns back to the door to respond: 'You sure? The dishes are-' The voice interrupts him with 'Sí, es El Día Dr Amor y Amistad! (In English: Yes, it's Valentines Day) Go sow your oats! You're too young to be working so much.' Guillermo replies without enthusiasm, 'Ha...yeah. Thanks, Teresa, have a good night.' 2. View from behind as Guillermo pulls the lid of the dumpster up with one hand and throws the bag in with the other. He sighs and mutters to himself, 'My oats are just gonna go home and watch Buffy...' 3. There is a clatter in the alley behind him and Guillermo spins around to face the viewer, startled and tense. 4. Extreme close up on Guillermo jerking back in shock as a wad of dandelions are suddenly thrust into his face. A voice offscreen calls 'Guillermo!' happily. 4. Zoom out as Nandor, now with a black and gold cloak dusted with snow over his finery, kneels down in front of Guillermo, arm outstretched to keep the dandelions pushing at his chin. Guillermo, pink and flustered and very confused, takes a step back and splutters 'Nandor?! The- the relentless?' Nandor ignores his reaction and announces, 'Here are some flowers!' 5a. Close up on Nandor as he looks up at Guillermo, dandelions thrust into the foreground and his hair and shoulders dotted with snow as if he had been waiting for some time. He proceeds, clearly rehearsed, 'I very much enjoyed your company tonight as well as the sight of your charming boyish face and plump behind!' His voice is demanding but his expression, eyes shining upwards and cheeks flushed purple, betrays his nerves despite the confident set to his brow. 5b. Reverse shot of Guillermo, staring down at him slack-jawed with wide shiny eyes and pink cheeks, the dandelions still hovering up by his face. Offscreen, Nandor asks 'Have you ever been to Staten Island?' Guillermo responds 'No...' on autopilot. Nandor concludes, 'Then that is where I will be whisking you for our date!' 6. Full body shot, the alleyway back in focus and showing an empty snow-lined street on the other side, a single window just above Guillermo's head lit up from within. Nandor finally stands up and rubs at his chin with a worried expression, dandelions clutched in the other. He says, 'I've heard tales of an all-night bowling alley, but my housemates never want to go with me.' Meanwhile Guillermo, frozen beside him with his hands hovering in mid-air, lets his brain catch up with what's happening. He stares into the middle distance as equations float around his head and his breath fogs into the air. Above, it begins to gently snow. 7. Close up of Guillermo, knocked out of his trace by a gentle prompting from Nandor offscreen: 'So...?' An EKG line skips a beat in the background as he startles and looks up, eyes shining and lips pressed together in a frown. 8. Reverse shot of Nandor, looking very nervous now as he stares back hopefully, holding out the bouquet of dirty dandelions one more time. /end page 5

ID page 6: 1. Close up of Guillermo on a bubbly pink background. He smiles genuinely, red-cheeked, and reaches out to take the dandelions from Nandor's hand. He says, 'Okay...' 2. Medium shot of the two in profile. Nandor, still holding the flowers as Guillermo tucks his hand inside his grip to take them, looks down at Guillermo in shock and echoes 'Okay?!' Guillermo looks up at him with a shy smile and clarifies, 'Yeah. Yes.' 3. Nandor drops his hand and straightens up, a giant silly ecstatic grin taking over his face. Guillermo turns back toward the building and points behind him with his free hand, the other now clutching the dandelions. He says, 'Just let me clock out an-' 4. A close up of Guillermo, blurred diagonally with sudden motion. The only thing clearly visible are his wife eyes, frozen grin, and a little white question mark. 5. Knees up of Nandor, now holding a startled Guillermo in a bridal carry, on a red background lined with glowing neon pink hearts. Grinning wildly down at his date, Nandor announces, 'Prepare to be whisked, Guillermo!!' Guillermo sits there wide-eyed, clutching his little wad of flowers to his chest and somehow finding his other arm looped around Nandor's neck. He stutters frantically, 'Wai- wait, Nandor, you don't have to-' 6. The background warps upward as Nandor shoots them both upward into the sky, flying them both right out of the panel. Guillermo's last word is stretched out in a startled 'OOOOOO??!' as they take off, a single dandelion escaping his grip and drifting back toward the ground. 7. Wide shot of the night sky, dark purple with bursts of white clouds and speedily increasing snowfall, lit by a clear full moon. Nandor and Guillermo fly through, Nandor smiling in a pleased way and clutching Guillermo tightly as he watches their ascent. Guillermo, both arms now around Nandor's neck and more flowers slipping from his grip into the night, stares up at him with awe. He thinks to himself, 'This is the best night of my life...' Behind them, the words 'the end' are carved into the moon. /End ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #valentines day #exchangeapalooza 2 #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described #waiting on mr right #there are worse things i could do #tawticd

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

I’ll Take Care of You (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Warnings: ⚠️homophobia⚠️

A/n: based off the song Take Care by Beach House. Also I know a few things aren’t accurate but just pretend. The words in itallics are the song lyrics :)

Prompt: Little moments of the reader and Leah taking care of each other, and just being in love.

Stand beside it, we can’t hide the way it makes us glow

You and Leah were standing in front of a yellow-ish back drop, both wearing fashionable outfits and getting ready to take pictures. You would be the first duo on the cover of the British GQ MOTY magazine, and you were ecstatic to be on the cover of a magazine, it was a first for you. You were both styled by the incredible Angelo Mitakos. Leah’s first outfit was a big baggy pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, along with a black captains armband and a pair of white sneakers. She looked amazing. You, however, we’re wearing a similar look but with beige trousers, and a white tee shirt, along with black mary janes and white socks. "Stand beside it! It makes you glow." Leah laughed as you stood directly under a bright light, squinting. Leah grabbed her phone and took a picture of you. She then walked to you and showed it. You looked adorable, your arms flopping at your side like an angry kid, your eyes small due to the squinting and your skin shiny from all the subtle makeup they had put on you.

It’s no good unless it grows, feel this burning love of mine, deep inside the ever spinning, tell me does it feel?

You and Leah were in the backyard of her childhood home, gardening. Her mother and father were inside, cooking away and laughing together, a happy old couple. You wished for that with Leah as you watched them, dancing around the kitchen and laughing. You soon felt a finger swipe your cheek and your head swivlled around to see Leah laughing at you her left hand covered in dirt. "Leah Williamson! I’ll tell your mother!" You threatened, wiping the dirt off your cheek but smiling at her wildly. "Focus on the carrots! If you plant them wrong then they won’t grow. They’re not good unless they grow!" Leah said, pointing at the carrot seeds you were supposed to be planting. You looked back at Leah and lunged on her, making her fall over into the grass. Leah shrieked but let you lie on top of her. "What are you doing?" She laughed. "My overalls are gonna be dirty." She said, looking at you. You placed your palms on both side of her body and looked down at her. You smiled and leaned down to pepper her face with kisses. Suddenly, you switched positions, grabbing her back and rolling so that she was over you. "Now my overalls are dirty too." You said, looking into her ocean blue eyes. "I hope you know how much I love you. How my heart… burns for you." Leah said to you, propping herself over you with her arms. You tilted your head slightly at her words. "I do know. I do, Lee."

It’s no good unless it’s real, hillsides burning, wild-eyed turning, till we’re running from it

You stood in a shoe store. Staring at a pair of supposedly vintage 1980 jordan’s. They were your dream shoes. But you wanted to know if they were real. If they were authentic. "Baby… I love shoes, and I love you. But you’ve been looking at those same shoes for thirty five minutes." Leah whined. You spun around to look at her. "I don’t want to ask him if there authentic. It’s rude." You said, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. "Then I’ll ask." Leah said, standing up and walking towards a man that worked there. She had a quick word with him and then walked back to you. "They’re authentic. He says you can check the tag in the shoe yourself." Leah said, walking behind you and placing her hands on your waist as you grabbed the shoe off the shelf. "Oh yeah… he’s right. It feels authentic." You smiled. "Why does it matter so much if it’s real or not?" Leah asked. "You’re joking! It’s no good unless it’s real, Leah." You said to her.

I’d take care of you, if you asked me to

"Yes. I promise. It’s all good. Serve yourself anything from the pantry, she won’t mind." You told Leah over the phone. You were staying at your sisters house while she was on vacation with her boyfriend. You and your sister both lived in London, but the heater in yours and leah’s apartment was broken so you were staying at your older sisters place. "I love you too, Leah-" you told her. "Yes! I’m sure! Leah just take something darling! I’ll be home in 20." You repeated, laughing and hanging up. You were in line at a coffee shop, your sister didn’t own a coffee machine and you and Leah were extremely coffee deprived. "It’s wrong you know." A voice said behind you. You turned around to look at a beefy looking man. "Excuse me?" You asked confused. "You’re a fucking dyke. God doesn’t forgive that." He said loudly. People were looking at the both of you now, but you chose to be the bigger person and you just turned to look in front of you, trying to hide the fact that your heart was beating stupid fast. "Fucking sinner. We should shoot you all in the fucking head." He yelled at you, pushing your back and sending you flying forwards, hitting your head against the counter and feeling warm blood trickle down your forehead. He left quickly after that and customers as well as baristas surrounded you and helping you up. A nice man gave you napkins and the barista gave you your order for free. But you walked the short walk home shaking. And when you got home, you broke down crying. "Baby, baby, what’s wrong?" Leah said, quickly coming up to you and taking the coffees from your hand. She put them on the counter and kneeled beside you as you had slipped down to the floor. You explained to her between hiccups what had happened. That night, you feel asleep with your bodies tangled, Leah holding you tightly, and her words of love in your ear. "I’ll take care of you. You’ll be okay."

In a year…

One year together. One year with Leah. How did you celebrate? Hiking. You both loved hiking. You rented a convertible, drove one hour to the best hiking spot in England, blasted music on the drive there and then climbed up the most breathtaking mountain. Once you got to the top, you installed a picnic and watched the sunset together. "You could?" Leah said to you. "No. I dont get cold." You lied, goose bumps on your arms. Leah trailed her fingers up your arm. "You sure about that?" It was a bit colder now that the sun had set, and you could only see Leah through a lamp you guys had brought. "Okay i’m a tad cold." You said. Leah pulled out her hoodie from her bag and handed it to you. You slipped it on and then both decided to get going back to the car. The hike back down was filled with laughter, teasing and kisses, and as you drove back home in the dark, the stars bright, the roof down, the air warm, you watched Leah sleep out of the corner of your eyes.

…or two,

Leah’s POV:

Two years with y/n. Two years with the girl that makes my world spin every day. Two years with the girl that makes my heart beat, and sometimes, my blood boil. But I wouldn’t trade her for the world. For our anniversary, we took a week off and went to spain. We visited Lucy and Keira and hung out with the Barcelona squad. We sightseed, hiked, and went to see the Barca men’s team play Real Madrid. It was a very exciting game. Eventually, we went out to eat supper on your last day. Eating late made y/n grumpy, but we didn’t really have a choice due to everything opening so late. When we had had a supper of tapas, i walked back, hand in hand with y/n, to our hotel and she fell asleep right away in your bed. I smiled at her tired figure, slipping off her shoes and socks and throwing a cover over her. I took a quick picture of her and gathered my favorite photographs of her to make an anniversary post. I looked down at her beautiful person, smiling at her slightly open mouth. I sat down beside her in bed, pulling the covers over us. I played with her scattered hair on her pillow, looking at her with nothing but love. "I love you. I love you so much. I love how you sleep, and how you play football. And I love how you smell and how you look disgusted when your confused. I. Love. You." I told her, before falling asleep.

You say swimming in the lake, we’ll come across a snake

Leah’s only secret from you was her fear of snakes. She hated them, but it was embarrassing to her, so she never told anyone. Most of the Arsenal girls had rented a big cottage together for a week they had off, it was chaotic, but amazing. The cottage had its own personal lake, and the girls were going to take advantage of it. You were sharing a room with Leah, Beth and Viv. It would not be a romantic holiday. But you didn’t mind, you were happy for this team bonding opportunity with the girls. In the washroom, you and Leah were taking your turn to change. Leah slipped on a black bikini that you tied in the back, you loved how they showed off her tattoos and her abs. You followed suite by putting on blue bikini with white flowers on them. You loved this bikini. "I can’t believe you didn’t bring the one I got you!" Leah whined as you both walked out of the room with jean shorts on. "Leah that bikini is for when our friends aren’t around." You laughed.

The lake was surprisingly warm, and some people swam and splashed around for a while, while other chose to just tan. Katie, Viv, you, Beth, Leah, Gio and Rafa were in the water the longest, playing with a ball, doing chicken fights and just messing around. But eventually you got tired. "I’m going out." You told the girls who whined. Leah grabbed your waist and spun you around as you tried to walk away, brining you in to a kiss as the girls cheered. "I’ll join you in a few minutes." Leah said. "Okay then." You smiled. You walked out of the water and onto the beach and lied down on your towel beside Lotte and Sabrina. You laid on your stomach, soaking in the sun when you heard a loud screech and splashing. You sat up to see Leah running out of the water and toward you. You stood up quickly and Leah took the opportunity to tackle you into a hug. You put your hands over her head, holding her steady. You knew it was nothing serious as you saw the girls in the water chuckle. "What is it baby?" You asked, laughing a bit. "It’s not funny! There was a snake in the water!" Leah said, still holding you tightly against her. "Water snakes aren’t poisonous. Not in this part of the world anyways." You whispered to her, gently strolling her wet hair. She eventually pulled away and looked at you with a frown. "I don’t like snakes. At all." She said. "I know." You answered. Leah looked at you suspiciously. "No you don’t. It’s my secret. I’ve never told anyone." Leah said. You smiled at her lovingly and tapped the towel beside you. She sat down beside you, resting her head on your shoulder. "You refuse to watch the second harry potter movie and when we watch any of the other movies you excuse yourself to the washroom, or to get more snacks every time Nagini is on screen. I was looking to get another tattoo and you were adamant on not letting me get a snake tattoo. I know you." You told her. Leah stayed silent for a while before lifting her head from your shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I take care of you, Leah. You know that."

Feel it’s heartbeat, feel what you hear, far so fast it feels too late

Today had been a bad day. You were experiencing horrible period pain and all of training you were making mistake after mistake. It got so bad you took yourself off the pitch an hour in. You had asked Leah for a moment to yourself as she tried to follow you into the changing room and she respected that which you were thankful for. You were unhappy, in pain and angry. You had thrown your cleat against the wall and then doubled over from the cramps. Now, it was 9:00 pm and your head was lying on Leah’s chest. Your hand was over her heart, you liked feeling what you could hear, and her heart beating, knowing it was beating for you, that was the most comforting thing ever.

I’d take care of you, if you asked me too, in a year or two

Leceister v Arsenal. It was the 47th minute when a corner was taken for Arsenal. The ball was sent in and Leah made a run towards the front post, the ball hitting her head awkwardly. She didn’t go down but you jogged over to her, noticing the dazed and foggy look in her eyes. "You okay?" You told her, a hand on her back. "Yeah. Get back to your position." She said almost incomprehensibly. You nodded but made a point of walking close to her. She only made it to the outside of the box when she started falling to her knees, clearly having passed out. You were expecting that to happen, or at least, you were ready for it. you grabbed her under the arms and caught her fall. She leaned forward on her arms as medics came running over. Head injuries were taken very seriously. You stayed by her side the whole time as the woman too a look at Leah’s head. Eventually, she got back up and was okay to continue. You clapped her on the back and smiled at her, leaving your position. When the game ended and both teams made it to the tunnel, you found Leah and hugged her. "Shit. Don’t do that again." You told her, pulling away and cupping her face. "I’ll try." Leah laughed.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal fcw #katie mccabe #leah williamson #woso community #woso fanfics

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st-el-la-luna · 1 month

Text

I Was Kidding: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

NSFW 18+

Gaz wakes up, hungover in a bed that is not his own ➔ alcohol consumption, drunkeness, hangovers, jealousy, accidental confessions, making out, mentions of wet dreams

3.7k words

Gaz lets out a low groan, his voice but a growl, the vestiges of sleep still lingering in his tone. He rolls over in his bed and pulls the warm sheets up to his chin, nuzzling deeper into his pillow. He feels comfortable. Safe.

A noise somewhere in the distance has him groaning again. He shifts his position, burrowing further into the bundle of plush blankets. He raises his hand to rub at his eyes without opening them, As he does, he feels something that confuses him. Soft yet ticklish. His brows furrow and he tries to bat the offending texture away. Something about it is familiar. But he has no idea why. He especially doesn’t know what it's doing in his bed.

His eyes are as heavy as lead as he blinks them open. Gaz hisses, eyes narrowed in a squinting, vengeful glare at the window. Like if he glared hard enough, it would shatter and break. Golden light streams in, bathing the room in a warm glow. He drops his head back against the pillow and slings an arm over his eyes.

He feels like his skull was being split in two.

"You're awake,"

Kyle nearly jumps from his skin at the sudden voice. He turns to the source and frowns, head cocked to the side in confusion. Is he seeing things? He has to be. There’s no way…

He blinks. He rubs his eyes. He blinks again.

Nope. Still there.

This is real.

He grumbles your name, brows furrowed in confusion, the tip of his nose scrunching up in his bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

“In my flat?” you ask, your eyes sparkling with that teasing light he’s come to love. “Gee, I wonder.”

“Your flat?” Gaz echoes, brows furrowing. He glances around the room.

The walls are the right colour, the same drab beige as pretty much every flat in London, somewhere between sandpaper and ash. The posters and pictures that decorated the walls are familiar. At least, he thinks. His vision is still blurry. The big tell that this isn’t his room is the window had curtains. Kyle hasn’t had curtains since he accidentally set his on fire in November. His eyesight clears slightly, and he notices other things that don't add up. A shelf full of books. The plants that clutter the windowsill. The desk, not piled up with empty cans and bottles, loose bullets and dull knives. He looks down to the source of the strange texture from earlier and pulls up a small plush. That weird Webkinz that he always thought was a platypus but was apparently something called a ‘Googles’. He lets it drop onto the mattress beside him.

He is, in fact, not in his own room. He blinks dumbly. “Oh.”

You smile softly, handing him some aspirin and a glass of water. He has barely taken the glass from your hand when you’ve fished a little container of MIO from your pocket. You add two drops to the cup and watch him expectantly.

For a moment all he can do is stare back, his heart fluttering in his chest.

That's one thing that he loves about you. The little things you do for people that could be so easily overlooked. But Gaz never overlooked them. In fact, to him, those small acts meant the world. They're what made him fall for you in the first place.

Sure, a lot of people know he isn’t fond of water. He finds it plain. But most would simply hand him a glass and expect him to deal with it. Even Soap, who has known him for so long, doesn’t go out of his way to accommodate Gaz's tastes.

Gaz takes a small sip, wetting his lips which he’s only now realizing are dry. Strawberry Watermelon. His favourite. He finds himself wondering if you bought it just for him.

He takes the pills all at once, downing the rest of the glass in one go. He wipes at his lips with his wrist, staring down at the cup with a dopey grin.

He feels his heart swell, and he opens his mouth to speak only to snap it shut immediately after. He was so close to slipping, so close to saying those three words that would ruin everything.

Three words. It's crazy how three little words could mean so much. Then again, Gaz doubts that all the languages in the world combined have enough words to describe how he feels about you.

You are everything to him.

More important than his job, his team, his family or even the air that he breathes. He would do anything you asked him to without hesitation. It’s almost concerning. He'd probably thinkso if he wasn't so infatuated with you. But he is infatuated with you, truly head over heels, which is why he can never let those three words slip.

Three words. Three words that he has whispered to himself over and over in the dead of night as images of what could be but never would flash before his eyes. A mirage of you lying next to him, nose to nose, giggling at one of his jokes that he knew wasn’t funny. The memory of your touch, the fantasy of your fingers touching places they’ve never touched before. As you smiled up at him through your lashes and he couldn’t help the confession. A breathless whisper.

As soon as it escaped him, the illusion would shatter, as it did every night.

Three words that could change everything. Three words that could take years of friendship and hopeless pining and flush them down the drain. Three simple, stupid, horrible, gut-churning, heart-stopping, life-ending, amazing words.

I love you.

"Do want me to close the drapes?" you ask, taking his low groan as a ‘yes’. you walk over to the large window and pull the heavy curtains shut, filling the room with shadows.

"Better?" you ask, sitting delicately at the foot of the bed.

He grunts, nodding his head, a frown tugging at his lips. "What... What happened last night?"

You smile softly. "How much do you remember?"

Gaz furrows his brows.

Last night? Gaz could remember the mission, the last before break. The Task Force had succeede of course, thanks in large part to him.

Gaz could remember ignoring the officers and personnel after the aircraft touched down on the tarmac. He could remember going through the motions of nodding and thanking and passively agreeing. He could remember when finally, finally, he was able to break away and rush to where you were waiting at the edge of the landing strip.

You were bounding up and down in excitement, hands clasped before your chest. you were shouting, but he couldn’t make out what, the roaring of jet engines successfully drowning your words out. you had shouldered your way through the crowd to access the tarmac, colliding with him in a warm hug. He’d picked you up of the ground, and swung you around, treasuring the moment.

“Way to go!” You'd told him, grinning so wide Gaz had worried it may have hurt. “You did so well!”

He remembered not wanting to let you go, to leave you. But he had to get out of his sweaty clothes. So, with hesitation, he pulled away, and, grabbing one last quick hug, ran off after the rest of the team.

Gaz could remember arriving at the bar with the Task Force to celebrate their win. He could remember when you had arrived with your friends from the Intelligence Department not even ten minutes later. He remembered the way you had looked in your dress. Just thinking back on the memory of it makes Gaz's knees weak, and his chest hurt from yearning. Heat floods his body, the tips of his ears flushing at the memory.

He blinks and swallows, trying to ignore the molten arousal that’s starting to build.

He could remember mingling with people, accepting congratulations and toasts with a smile, you at his side. He remembered the burning jealousy that coursed through his veins when Johnny fucking MacTavish arrived. When you left Gaz's side for Soap... Soap, of all people! Gaz could remember the way his hands had clenched into fists, knuckles white, nails digging into his palms so hard they drew blood, as the Scottsman picked up your hand and pressed his lips against it in a playful greeting.

He remembered glaring at Soap from across the room as he laughed and flirted with you. He remembered the pang in his heart as he'd seen your blush, giggling softly as you placed a hand on Soap’s. He remembered the burning anger intensifying as, after noticing your shivering from the cold, Soap pulled off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders.

Gaz could barely stand the sight.

You looked great in it. Of course you did. you would look good in anything or nothing. He just couldn’t fathom that the jacket wasn’t his. Oh, how wonderful you'd look. For a moment he pictured it was his sweater you were wearing. The colour of it suited you perfectly, looking absolutely adorable with your hands curled at the end of the sleeves in little sweater paws.

The illusion had broken when you’d turned, and he saw Soap’s name where his should have been.

Gaz can remember downing the rest of his bottle and immediately going to get another. He had hoped to drown out the burning jealousy with the burning of whisky. One shot. Then two. Then three. Then he'd moved on to rum. Then vodka. Then tequila. Then... nothing. He was drawing a blank.

"How did I get here?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

"Well, after what must've been your twentieth round of drinks, you were really out of it," you begin to tell the story, the soft smile gracing your lips a stark contrast to the emotions that are swirling in your eyes. Confusion. Concern. Guilt. Did you think this was your fault? He hopes you don't think this is your fault. "You then proceeded to stumble your way over to Soap and me."

Gaz can’t help the low growl that rumbles from deep within his chest at the mere mention of Johnny’s name. Jealousy and rage course through his veins like lightning, something primal stirring within him. You shoot him a look but don't press.

“One second, he and I are dancing, the next you have him up against the wall, shouting until you’re breathless. You threw him down and started to, like, choke him out. By the time Price was able to separate you you’d chipped one of his teeth, busted his lip and his nose.”

"Okay," Gaz nods. He can vaguely remember that. Not his best moment. Soap would never let him forget it. “But how did I get here?"

"I'm getting there," you tell him with a roll of your eyes. "You were obviously wasted so I told you I’d be taking you home. You refused, told me that you were going to get your dick wet and that I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

Gaz buries his face in his hands. “God I’m sorry.”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, simply continuing with your tale. “You stumbled around the party for another half hour after that, downing whatever you could get your hands on. I tried a number of times to get you to leave but you kept telling me ‘the night is young, baby!’ Then you threw up on Ghost’s dog and the bartender cut you off... I tried to say goodbye to everyone before leaving with you, but anytime I got close to someone, you would snarl at them and try to start a fight,"

He grabbs his head between his hands. He could remember that. God, how stupid had he been?

"So eventually, I gave up and told Kate to do it for me, and I started to take you home," you smile softly and reach out to run a hand over his hair in an attempt to comfort him. Gaz hates how well it works; he melts into your touch immediately. "But you denied it and said that the only way I could get you to leave would be if I took you home with me," You gesture around the room, "and so here we are,"

"Oh God, you... I'm so sorry," he says, regret pooling in his eyes as equal parts guilt and shame bubble up in his stomach.

"Don't worry about it," you wave him off. "Parties aren't really my scene anyways. You should really be apologizing to Ghost and Riley. They’re the real victims here."

"I didn't..." he trails off for a moment, unsure of how he wants to word his next question. "I didn't say or do anything stupid to you, did I?"

"Well, I guess there's one thing..." you hum, tapping your chin with your index finger.

His eyes widen in panic, and he’s overcome with dread. "What? What did I do?"

"You professed your undying love to me, and we preceded to have hot, carnal sex until the wee hours of the morning,"

Kyle, far too hungover and caught up in a mess of his own anxieties to notice your teasing tone nor the mischievous glint in your eyes, pales. "Oh my God... I'm so sorry... Believe me; this isn't how I wanted this to go. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out in such a way. I-I... I love you so much, and I... God, I'm so fucking stupid."

When he looks up to meet your gaze, he can tell you’re surprised by his admission. Eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth dropped open to form a small ‘o’.

His lip trembles. "W-what?"

"I was kidding," you say.

"Oh," Gaz mutters, his voice wavering. "So we didn't...?"

"No," you shake your head, answering the unspoken question. "You passed out the second we got through the door. I had to practically drag you into bed."

He swallows hard, unable to meet your gaze.

"So..." You started hesitantly. "You love me, huh?"

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

You nod in response, pursing your lips. "Alright."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this," He says, his voice cracking with overwhelming emotions. "I wasn't going to tell you at all. I don't want to ruin our friendship..."

Gaz hiccupps, furiously rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand. "I just can't help it! I've tried to stop liking you, I've tried so hard! But you're so smart and kind. You're an amazing cook, and you're insanely fucking funny, it's unreal. Not to mention beautiful, God, you're so fucking beautiful it's not even fair! It's like every time I see you is the first time. Like the air is being torn from my lungs, and I'm being picked apart and put back together over and over again, and I love it. I love you so much, and I think I always have."

He lets out a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a sob, gripping his head so hard that you wince just seeing him do it. But he doesn’t feel it. He can’t even feel the ache in his head anymore. All he can feel is the sinking in his gut and the pain in his heart. "I know that you don't feel the same way, and I know that you hate me now. And I'm just... I'm sorry, I’m so sorry."

Gaz feels the bed shift as you move to sit beside him. He turns his head away and tries to shrink in on himself, to make himself as small as possible in the hopes that he might disappear completely.

You take his chin gently in your hand and turned his head so that you’re both facing each other. Gaz wishes that he could hide from the soft look in your eyes. He knows what’s coming. He hated this part.

Kyle feels like throwing up, and not because of his hangover. He can only wish that you will let him down gently. His heart wouldn’t be able to take much more than that. It’s already splintering, sending painful shards all throughout his chest. He doubts it would ever be whole again.

And yet, despite everything, Gaz finds himself melting into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut on instinct. You've always had this effect on him, and he knows that you always will.

"I don't hate you, Kyle" Your voice is gentle and calm.

He blinks up at you through his tears. "You don't?"

"No," you shake your head, offering him a soft smile. "In fact..."

You lean in close, tilting your head to the side. Gaz's heart stops working, and his breath catches in his throat.

He doesn’t even register that you’re kissing him until a moment later. When his lungs kick back in, and he can inhale again. He's always felt giddy when he was with you, but now he feels like he is flying. Gaz, overeager and sloppy, accidentally knocks the tip of his nose into yours, as he returns the kiss feverishly. His heart feels as if it is dropping down a bottomless pit. Like it’s sinking deeper and deeper while his head becomes lighter and lighter.

You kiss him passionately, your hands reaching out to touch and hold. Gaz's hands latch onto your waist as he pulls you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. His fingers tugg at the hem of your shirt, clawing desperately at anything he can reach with trembling, shaky hands. Your hands slide up his sides and neck, stopping a moment to cup his face as you deepen the kiss. Then your hands drift higher, and you dig your fingers into his dark hair, nails dragging across the scalp. Black curls tangled around your fingers, you give his hair a gentle tug and Gaz can't help the whimpering moan that escapes his lips. He pulls you in closer until your bodies are pressed so tightly together that you practically became one.

Gaz's head is a mess. So much so that he can’t keep track of where his hands are supposed to go, or how he is being kissed. So much has happened in so little time. He is completely overwhelmed in the best possible way.

He wants to burn this into his memory forever. The pressure of your soft lips against his, the warmth of your body as you press against him, the weight of you comfortable and perfect on him, the plush of your thighs on his lap. Gaz wants to be able to remember this forever, when he’s scared or alone in the dark of night. When he’s out on a mission, unsure if he’ll ever make it back home. Home to you. Whenever his depression gets so bad he couldn’t think of anything to live for. When the memories of the things he’s done and the things he’s seen become too much. This is something to live for. The only thing.

He prays to whatever spirit there may be out there that this won't be the last time he'll get to touch you like this. That he won’t open his eyes only to find out that it was another cruel, torturous dream. That you won’t pull away from him and laugh.

If this is the last time, if this is a dream, if this is some heinous joke, Gaz doesn't care. He can’t bring himself to. Not when you’re in his lap, lips slotted against his, breath hot and heavy against sweaty, kiss swollen lips. He is going to make the most of this.

He runs his tongue against your lips, and you oblige, parting them slowly. Gaz grins into the kiss as he let his tongue explore your mouth, intertwining it with your own, like he’s trying to tie your tongues together, as he tries to swallow his sounds. He savours the feeling and the taste of you, and he knows that nothing else will ever satisfy him again.

When you let out a moan against his lips, Gaz can’t help but to roll his hips in response. You let out a soft gasp that quickly turns into a groan as he deepens the kiss further. Noses bumping into each other. Teeth clashing. Hands grabbing at anything that they can reach.

Gaz is out of control in the best possible way. Holding you in his arms. Kissing you. Making your his. It is more intoxicating than any alcohol he's ever had in his life. And he’s had a lot.

When you pull back for air, your chest is heaving, and your cheeks are flushed.

Gaz chases after you desperately. He feels like he can’t breathe without you, like without your lips on his, he'll suffocate and die.

You give him a quick kiss, holding it for no more than a second before backing away once more.

He draws in an uneven breath and stares up at you through a daze of wonder and disbelief. Your lips are swollen and red. A string of saliva runs from your mouth to his own, connecting you in the most delicious way. The spit snaps, falling down to him and only then does he realize that his chin is slick with a mixture of your combined spit, dribbling down his neck and soaking into his shirt.

A shiver runs up his spine, sending shock waves through his entire body. He can’t remember ever feeling so good.

"So," Gaz swallows, a deep blush staining his cheeks, flushed with heat of arousal.

"I love you too, dummy," you laugh breathlessly before leaning in and capturing his lips once more.

Gaz grins into the kiss, gripping your waist as you pressed your hips harder against his. He flips you over, pining you beneath him. He pulls back for a moment to admire the sight. He dives back into the kiss with renewed passion, hands sliding down to grab at your ass, taking greedy handfuls of the fat as he moans into your mouth.

Who knew that a drunken night could have turned out so well?

please comment and reblog to support my writing!

Masterlist!

#cod #call of duty #cod mwii #x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz

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tired-teacher-blog · 3 months

Text

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "Eri says hi, we're on our way to school now."

You hold the phone closer to your ear, smiling fondly as he speaks, and picturing them stroll their way there hand in hand while he carries her cute little school bag over his shoulder.

_ "Tell her I miss her." you reply immediately with warmth filling up your heart.

_ "Just her? What about her father?" and you can feel the smirk lacing his words.

_ "Of course I miss you Shouta, very much." you breathe out longingly, wishing you could see him right at this instance.

_ "Me too beautiful, I'll see you tonight." and with that, you both say your goodbyes and hang up your phones.

Hours later, and his voice still plays in your brain like a sweet melody, and that same wide smile still refuses to leave you, only a little bit more until you see him.

Time couldn't possibly go any slower when you're awaiting for the moment to be with him, and you rarely ever do on weekdays due to your conflicting schedules, but fortunately you were able to work something out for today and decided to have dinner together in the studio between his appointments, it's not much, but it's more than you can ask for..

_ "Hello." a delicate voice interrupts your thoughts, and your head immediately snaps towards its source.

_ "Hello ma'am, welcome." oh, she's beautiful.

The clicking of her expensive beige heels pierces the calm and resonates across the walls as she steps inside while uttering amusedly, "what a nice atmosphere you have here."

_ "Thank you ma'am, you are more than welcome to take a look around." you have never seen her before, so perhaps she's here for a visit?

She's truly gorgeous, and elegant too, and you're now wondering what could her story be.

_ "So I want to buy a bouquet but I'm not sure exactly what to get, everything here looks gorgeous." she's taking a tour of the shop while speaking, her eyes study the blooms carefully before shifting her gaze your way.

_ "I'm glad you like what you see," you offer her a genuine smile, "I can help you choose, you see each flower and each rose carries a different meaning, so if you have a message that's hard to convey, you can pick a flower that helps with that."

She blinks a few times while hearing you speak before breaking into laughter, "but isn't that a bit too much to ask of a measly plant?"

Your body tenses up as you did not expect to hear such words from someone who has willingly walked into your shop, but maybe she didn't mean to offend you.

_ "Not at all ma'am, if the person receiving the bouquet is someone who likes flowers, then your message wilI surely come across." your smile is now forced, and your palms are starting to sweat as you strive to remain collected.

_ "I never thought they liked them but maybe I was wrong," her eyes are casting a darkness that you cannot for the life of you decipher, "well then, which one says I'm sorry?" her attention is back to the colorful roses.

_ "White roses or white tulips are the perfect ones for that, they express sincere apologies and seeking forgiveness, offering them to someone signifies the desire to start anew." you gesture towards the flowers you're describing and watch as she approaches them slowly.

_ "Alright then, I'll have ten of each."

_ "Of course ma'am." you quickly run to the blossoms and start cutting them carefully, counting in your head so you wouldn't miscalculate the lady's order.

_ "So how long have you been running this business?"

Her question catch you off guard, and you almost miscount the white blooms in front of you, "oh, I've been here for almost a year," you turn her way for a second as you reply, before returning to the work at hand.

You walk back to your counter with twenty delicate whites in your arms, smiling again at the lady before starting to carefully organize them in a bouquet.

_ "What about you ma'am? Are you here visiting someone? Perhaps the lucky person who will receive these?" you try to soften the mood as you ask.

_ "Yeah, that's why I'm here, I need to clear things up with someone." her voice is monotone and for some reason it's making you a little uncomfortable.

_ "I'm sure everything will go well ma'am, this bouquet will be an ideal ice breaker." even with your unexplained uneasiness, you still give her a warm smile.

_ "You think so? You must have a lot of faith in your flowers then." she scoffs with a role of her eyes that you did not need to witness.

_ "Uhm well.. I do, and I hope I'm right." you have never felt this anxious with a customer before, but you have to remain calm and cheerful regardless.

_ "What a cute tattoo." she exclaims with a nod of her head.

_ "Oh, thank you, yeah it's really dear to me." somehow, for some reason, you've always found solace in your tattoo, and you're almost certain it's the thought of him that brings you comfort rather than the tattoo itself, in any case, it's working yet again.

The woman remains silent after that, and you can almost feel her piercing stare digging holes in your whole body.

_ "Here you go ma'am, it's wrapped and ready, I hope you like it." you carefully pick up the bouquet, mindful of the graceful blooms as you hand them to the woman in front of you.

_ "Thank you." she holds it in one arm and hands you her credit card with the other.

It's almost over, she's almost out of your shop and you're almost breathing easily again.

_ "Thank you for your purchase ma'am and have a nice day." you bow your head slightly while returning her card.

The annoyingly loud click of her heels is finally heading away as she walks towards the door, and you allow yourself to heave a sigh of relief.

_ "Oh by the way, say hi to Shouta for me." and that irked expression she had on since earlier, is now replaced with an amused one as she closes the door after herself.

… What?

Shouta.. Shouta.. , she called him Shouta, not Aizawa like most people do, why? Who is she exactly? How does she know him? Was her coming to your shop intentional?

You feel like a fool, she was obviously mocking you until the very end, and for some reason you know that it isn't over.

Shouta.. who is she to you? Is she a friend? A family member? A client?

Countless questions battle within your brain as you freeze in place for God knows how long..

To be continued..

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byeoltoyuki · 1 month

Text

✧memories of us ✧ Once upon a sunny day

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous / next

When Soyeon invited you to her little garden party, you didn’t need to think twice, you said yes. First, because Soyeon, in a very short lapse of time became an important person in your life. She was bubbly, caring, funny and owed your favourite café. Secondly, the party was at her place and her house despite being small was cosy and had a nice garden that came out right from a fairy tale (in your opinion, of course). And then, food. Soyeon and her BBQ – nobody could possibly say no to this. You certainly couldn’t.

This was how you found yourself at her door on a Sunday afternoon, waiting for her to open it. Loud music was coming out of the house which made you wonder if Soyeon could even hear her doorbell. She, of course, did.

Soyeon opened the door, looking like a little fairy with two light pink braids, flowers in her hair, a cute beige dress with black dots. She looked adorable.

“Y/N!” She beamed and jumped right into your arms, almost making you drop the new plant you brought her as a gift for her garden and the bottles of her favourite wine. You managed, just on time, to open your arms widely enough to avoid any disaster.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She hugged you a little tighter before completely letting go. Only then she noticed what you were carrying in your arms. She squealed and took the bag with the bottles off your hands. “You’re the best.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “I know.”

You followed her inside, excited to meet her friends. It had been a while since you met new people and despite feeling a little bit anxious about it, you couldn’t deny how genuinely happy it made you feel. Soyeon had mentioned over the texts that few of her college friends would attend her BBQ party along with some of her childhood friends. You didn’t know what to expect because truly Soyeon was unpredictable.

Turns out, you and Soyeon didn’t have the same definition for ‘few friends’. Her version of few was dozens of people gathered in her garden. You halted in your track, a little intimidated with all the new faces.

Soyeon noticed you were no longer by her side and glanced at you over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I promise they’re a little loud and noisy, but they’re adorable.”

At her words, you relaxed, put the plant on the ground and quickly followed her. She was right, they were loud but the kind of loud that reminded you of your own group of friends that you missed a lot. You spotted two guys already taking care of the meat, one of them was smiling so brightly, you couldn’t help but stare. Every time he laughed at his friend, cute dimples showed up on his face. Really cute.

“Minho!” Soyeon called in the direction of the two guys.

Your body froze and all colour drained from your face. Minho was a rather common name, right? There was no way it could be the Minho. But as you followed Soyeon’s gaze, your heart missed a beat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. The universe was cruel. The world was vast and yet, somehow, Soyeon knew Minho, the guy that used to be your friend and the guy that happened to still be your ex-boyfriend’s friend.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. You wanted to turn back and run away as fast as you could; even if it had been years, nothing could have prepared you from meeting him again. You wished he had forgotten you. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you but one look at his face and you knew he had.

You were glad the bottles were no longer in your hands, otherwise they would have shattered on the ground. The moment your eyes locked, you flinched. He hadn’t changed much. Still handsome, still strong, still with cold eyes and yet, you saw something else in his eyes too. Regret? Guilt? You refused to think about it.

“Hey, the first round of meat is almost ready.” The other guy informed Soyeon, completely missing the thick tension between you and Minho. “Oh hi. You must be Y/N. Soyeon talks a lot about you! I’m Chris.”

You took this chance to avert your eyes from Minho’s face and looked instead at the man. Up close, he was really cute, but you couldn’t fully enjoy the moment. Not when Minho’s eyes were boring holes into you.

You cleared your throat and attempted a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“And this old man,” Soyeon pointed at Minho, “is Minho. Don’t worry, he might look intimidating but he’s a teddy bear.”

You had to bite back a laugh. The description she made of Minho was pretty accurate but the look he gave her was just so him, you couldn’t help but shake from holding back your laugh. Of course, he noticed. His attention went back to you instantly and you expected one of his ‘I’m going to make you pay’ look but instead he seemed to relax and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

For a moment, you stared at each other, a silent conversation going on. It had been years and you didn’t part in a nice way, but now that you were face to face, you still wanted to know how he was, what he had become. He did too, you saw it in his eyes.

“Okay, this is awkward.” Soyeon’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of you. “Is it me or do you guys know each other?”

“Exes?” Chris suggested after observing you.

“Never.” Minho scoffed at the suggestion.

You quirked a brow at him. “He’s into more annoying and loud women.” You couldn’t help but think about Yunji, the bane of his existence. At least, it was what he used to say when really, she was everything he ever wanted. He could deny it for the sake of his ego, but you had seen it in his eyes, in his behaviour. He cared for her so deeply. Sadly, the day you and Jisung broke up, many things changed.

You didn’t want your group to fall apart, but there was no stopping. Minho picked his side and so did Changbin and Yunji. You knew Changbin stayed in touch with both Minho and Jisung and you were glad they did. But Yunji. Yunji couldn’t. She was angry. Angry with how things ended with you and Jisung. Angry with how easily Minho stopped talking to you. But more importantly, she loathed how easily Minho had stopped talking to her too. He didn’t even try to reach out and it hurt her more than she was willing to admit.

“You’re annoying enough.” The urge to strangle you was strong. Minho read between the lines and he wasn’t happy about the reminder of another person from his past.

“I know, I’m charming.” You flipped your hair in response, unbothered. You weren’t the same girl he used to know; his words didn’t bother you as much as it used to. But then, you smiled at him. “Good to see you too, Minho. Glad to see you’re still the same.”

Minho shook his head in both annoyance and relief. He took few steps towards you, surprising you and his friends. You didn’t know what to expect of him because, well, he was quite an unpredictable man. He took you completely off guard as he hugged you.

You froze in his arms. Minho had never hugged you, not even when you were still friends. And yet, it felt nice, warming your heart. You hugged him back and closed your eyes to savour the moment. The last words you had exchanged were mean and hurtful one that had left a bitter taste years later.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, making sure that only you could hear him.

Soyeon gasped loudly. Minho let go of you and went back to the grill as if nothing had happened. He completely ignored his friends’ prying eyes.

***

“I am so confused.” Soyeon told you later as you left the two men to grab a drink. “I didn’t know Minho was a hugger.”

You snorted at that. “He’s not.”

Soyeon frowned at you, unconvinced. “He hugged you.”

“I’m aware.” You could see it how badly Soyeon was trying not to flood you with questions about you and Minho. It amused you to tease her and make her wait.

“Okay! That’s enough. Spill it!”

You checked your watch and smiled. “Consider me impressed. You lasted two whole minutes.”

Soyeon blinked, bewildered, and then she scoffed. “You sound a lot like him right now. So are you sure he’s not your ex?”

Imagining you and Minho together – you winced. “Hell no. We used to be friends.”

You didn’t want to elaborate. You didn’t want to tell her the whole story because there was no way you could tell her without mentioning Jisung. Five years later and it was still a sensitive topic. Five years later and your heart still ached at the thought of him. You wished you were fully over him, but truth was, you weren’t. No matter how hard you tried to get over him, how hard you tried to meet new people and give men a chance – you had failed every single time.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend’s best friend.” You finally admitted.

Soyeon, bless her, didn’t make any comment. She understood from just one look at you that it was a subject you weren’t willing to talk about. Not yet. And she respected that. Instead, she gently grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “If it’s get too much and you decide to leave, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

***

You came out of the bathroom feeling better. Obviously meeting Minho again brought back some unwanted, buried deep inside your head, memories but you refused to let your emotions and your past control you. You refused to let those memories ruin the lovely afternoon with Soyeon. But maybe, it was just the universe trying to convey a message and maybe you should have paid more attention to it.

Lost in your thoughts, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings which ended with you bumping into someone. Stunned, you almost lost your footing. Fortunately for you, the person grabbed your arm and steadied you before you could make more acquaintance with the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You apologized, wincing at your own stupidity.

“Y/N?”

Your heart dropped at the sound of this familiar, warm voice. Slowly, you raised your head, terrified of what you would see. Your heart clenched painfully at the sight of Han Jisung, still holding your arm, standing too close to you.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly took a step back, putting some very needed distance between the two of you. “Hi Ji.” And yet the moment he let go of you, you almost whined at the loss of his warmth.

Something was wrong with you.

“It’s good to see you.” Jisung smiled but couldn’t look you in the eyes. Apparently, you weren’t the only nervous one. He rubbed his nape, maybe trying to ease the tension or maybe he was trying to find his words. Just like you. You didn’t know what to tell him. Good to see you again? How have you been? Did you miss me like I missed you? There was so much you could say but no words left you or him.

“There you are!” Soyeon’s sweet voice echoed from behind Jisung and you never felt so much relief in your life. “I was looking for you everywhere!” She slapped his arm for good measure.

It was hard not to smile at how close they were or how Jisung winced at the slap, rubbing the now sore spot. “I was hiding from your punches.” He muttered.

“What was it?” She asked, looking sweet and innocent but her eyes were promising him a very slow and painful death if he dared to go against her. It was only when you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling that Soyeon noticed your presence. “Y/N! Sorry, was I interrupting?”

“Nope.” You avoided Jisung’s eyes on purpose; you knew that the moment you would looked at him all your emotions would show on your face and you didn’t want to explain it tonight. “He was saving me from a nasty fall.”

Soyeon cocked a brow, not fully convinced as her eyes darted back and forth between Jisung and you. “Are you sure you weren’t the one doing the saving?”

“Hey!” Jisung protested loudly.

***

For the rest of the afternoon and by some miracle you managed to avoid both Minho and Jisung. You were pretty much aware of their presence and you definitely caught them watching you more than once - you ignored it. It wasn’t easy but you stuffed your feelings deep inside you, refusing to let them have control over you. At least for today.

By the time the sky got darker, Soyeon’s little party turned into something more intimate with the soft music playing on the background. Some people started dancing and you were no exception as Chris invited you. How could you say no when he smiled so prettily at you? Out of all the people you had met this afternoon, he was definitely one you would keep in touch; you truly enjoyed his company and how easy-going he was.

“I know it’s not my place to say it, but is by any chance Jisung your ex-boyfriend?” He asked after a moment.

You almost stumbled, taken aback.

Chris chuckled and his grip around you tightened just in case. “He has been staring at us for the past ten minutes, throwing daggers. I figured since you know Minho, you had to know him too and-“ he cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

You laughed and shook your head in amusement. “You’re good, detective.”

Chris’s eyes softened as he looked over your shoulder, at Jisung and then back at you. “There’s another reason why I figured you’re his ex-girlfriend. But I guess, it’s something he’ll have to show you himself.”

That made you curious. You shouldn’t be, especially not when it concerned Jisung but there was just this odd feeling inside you that told you there were some unfinished business between the two of you.

“It was lovely meeting you.” Chris let go of you with a nice and warm hug.

You understood all too late why he was suddenly leaving you when you felt Jisung’s presence right behind you. He cleared his throat. “Would you like to dance with me?”

You faced him, wanting to say no for the sake of your sanity and heart but one look at him and there was absolutely no way you could say no. You never managed. “Sure.”

To say that feeling his hands on you felt weird yet so incredibly familiar and warm would be an understatement. Your body reacted to him like it used to, seeking more of his warmth and more of his touches. But you quickly realized that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed with turn this afternoon took. Jisung looked nervous judging by how his grip kept tightening as if he was scared that if he didn’t hold you tighter you would vanish. As if you were just an illusion of his own mind.

“Why so nervous, Ji?” You joked in hope to break the tension.

“Honestly? Because I didn’t think you would agree to dance with me.” He admitted, wincing at his own words. “Or talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes in response. “I’m petty but not that petty.”

Feeling a little bolder, Jisung leaned closer. “Sure about that?”

You slapped his arm playfully.

“How have you been?” Jisung asked.

“Good.” But lonely you wanted to add. “Work, life, friends, repeat.” You actually laughed at the terrible description of your life. It sounded bad when it really wasn’t. You had everything, well almost everything, you needed and ever wanted but it still didn’t feel enough. “You?”

“Remember how I started learning to dance?” Jisung hesitated the moment he mentioned the past. There were many memories he cherished but there were some, he wished he could erase and start over. “I actually started a band with Minho, Chris and other guys.”

“No way!” You gasped loudly. It shouldn’t surprise you that Jisung with his love for music would form a band, but it still amazed you how far he got. “That’s really impressive!”

Jisung’s pretty face coloured with pink making him even more cute to you.

“I’m actually trying to convince Changbin to join us. Have you heard his rap? He’s a real deal.” Jisung groaned, “But he told me he’s going to block me if I keep pestering him.”

You easily pictured Changbin’s annoyance. “He refused?” This, however, made you pause. You had heard in the past how well his rap battles with Jisung were. “Why?”

“Something about not wanting to take risks in life.”

That just didn’t make sense. It didn’t sound like the Changbin you knew. He wasn’t the wildest in your group of friends but whenever he wanted something he would just go for it. So why would he hold back now? The answer was quite easy and it didn’t sit right with you. “That’s odd.”

“I know.”

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know #han #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff

60 notes · View notes

oncewhenalongtimeago · 2 months

Note

I'm so obsessed 'SbITILYP' it makes my day whenever it updates! I wonder when Hiccup will be able to get his hands on some roses, especially the protagonist's reaction to receiving flowers?

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 26

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,983

Berk is a whole new place and you just might have opened up a whole new door for yourself. It’s probably a good one.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Reader’s POV, Hiccup’s POV, unedited

You kept your eyes glued to the ground.

The leaves of a plant that were scattered across the floor were somewhat recognizable, though you couldn’t place where you’d seen them before.

Today, though, there seemed to be an excess of them littering the paths around Berk.

You followed a beige dirt path up from the fields, staring at the ground as you carried up a short woven basket full of wheat. It was your day’s payment, the farmer having felt very generous with his store of things.

You didn’t really have a kitchen area, but you weren’t going to refuse a gift. Maybe you could trade with Mrs. Ingerman for something later. It was worth a try.

It had been a while since you’d been into town, having skirted around it for the majority of the day. It’d been a while since you’d seen anyone important, much less Hiccup, and the more time elapsed, the more you avoided, the more antsy you got.

It was noon, and you could feel the sun through your sleeves, a warm thing that made you want to melt into a puddle, like a cat. A nap would be very nice.

It was much quieter than it had been in a while. Things in town had been busy since the Outcasts had been taken into custody. Mildew had been arrested and subsequently exiled and the Outcasts, Alive the Treacherous especially, had been awaiting trial, locked away in the dripping, jailed caves under the Great Hall.

Things had also been very, very quiet and very, very intense. The air was stiff with tension and just about ten times the number of words left unsaid. It was a world of difference compared to the quick gossipy phrases usually exchanged in town.

There was something going on today, though you didn’t care, ready to enjoy some you-time by the cliffs by the coast doing simple jobs and laying in the grass.

Did that have anything to do with the leaves?

You perked up at the call of your name as dirt became wood plank, glancing back towards the fields but not lingering long enough to make out many details.

You could tell easily, though, that it was Hiccup.

His voice, nasally though it was, set your heart beating like a whole stampede of bulls was pounding dust and you were just about to get trampled encierro style.

“Can I walk with you?” He asked.

You paid only vague attention to his voice in an effort to keep calm, a line of sweat running down your face and hitting the dirt.

There was a strained quality to it; it sounded like he was trying to keep normal. It wasn’t strained in a way that made you believe he was upset so you didn’t worry, more as if he was holding his breath, though for what you had no idea.

Was this how he felt?

“Maybe… Keep looking?” Hiccup hedged, “I’ll follow the path with you, so you dont trip.”

You nodded.

You walked into town like that, eyes on your feet.

The ground turned to wood turned to dirt a few times, your boots tapping and padding against both.

You picked up a leaf once or twice and kept them flat in your palm.

You adjusted your basket twice, though at Hiccup’s insistence, you kept your eyes focused on the ground.

Until you spotted something.. Out of the ordinary.

Something bright red, saturated as the most visible shade of blood drifted down onto the path. It was round, though slightly light at one of the edges, which came to an almost blunt point.

You squinted down at it, bending further with fingers outstretched.

Your fingertips brushed against dirt as you scooped it up, before taking a step as if you were going to keep walking, and then stopping again.

The flesh of it was soft, with what felt like a film on top that was almost like satin, though the flex and feel of it was much different. It felt as if it might split under your nail if you pressed into it, which you nearly did, holding it between the crook of your pointer finger and your thumb.

It was… A petal.

“So…” Hiccup started, coming to a slow stop beside you, “Notice anything different?”

You turned up and looked at him, the sun was inviting and cozy on your cheeks as you pulled them out of your own shadow.

And then you started.

And you dropped your basket, its bottom landing against the ground with hardly a pat.

What you focused on wasn’t Hiccup himself, but more what was behind him. Something you’d missed as you’d walked with your eyes focused on your feet like you were Sherlock Holmes, which you felt funny about now.

It was flowers.

Roses. Everywhere.

…Mostly.

“What…” You said, for the first time.

There were some other species planted throughout donned in multiple different colors, planted alongside houses in various states of bloom, some with thin pipes made of wood connecting to a larger, thicker one, lifted over the lot.

Some in blues and small, wild whites were hanging from planters above, both shelves nailed into the sides of huts and sturdy metal pots with holes in the bottom hanging by tightly woven and painted rope with small strings dangling from the sides.

You could tell that quite a few plants had been the kind repotted from fields and nooks out in the forest, herbs and farm foods planted closer to huts and lined by stones for the sake of convenience, and suddenly a whole lot of things made sense.

Nearly magenta pink thistle with its spiky green body, hanging purple bluebells, and pink lavender-esque, black spot dotted heather -even one pink Foxglove plant with its many hanging lantern-like flowers sectioned away from the rest in a small metal cage- peeking out from around corners and around huts.

The rose bushes lay large and mostly flowering in large planters, fenced-off using small pikes, fallen leaves and petals bleeding into the space all around, marking your path from the fields all the way to the places in the clearing they’d been planted.

Up on the hill, you could just barely make out a small rose bush planted just by the pen up by the Chief’s hut.

You had to turn wildly, tracing them back with your eyes, “What…?”

You said it again.

Pale, dry dirt still made up the majority of the clearing, yet leaves and bushes lined the sides of buildings, spilling over upturned, dark earth which dotted the open space, marking boot and dragon tracks across.

Small carvings of Vikings like gnomes were dotted around the place, arranged in a way that seemed more respectful and worshipful of their depictions than fanciful.

Off in a corner, a small stone fountain in multiple layers, with a little sign which, after many recent, sleepless nights thinking about boys with brown hair and green eyes and stupid freckles and large teeth, you were certain said ‘prototype.’

Vines grew from some thin wood rods to match the metal rods sticking out from the dirt standing, taller than most of the houses, which seemed to be a lot like lightning rods.

“It was a volunteer project,” Hiccup interjected quickly at your silence.

In your periphery, you could see him step forwards slightly. Jerkily.

His hands were close together, closer to his torso than away.

“This is…” You started. But you didn’t have the words to express just how you felt. Not yet, when you hadn’t even finished processing the life in front of you.

You inhaled deeply, so quickly your lungs hadn’t time to work it or for you to really feel satisfied by it as you turned yourself bodily, ogling the sight.

His Dad, the Chief, and the Riders, the Twins egging each other on with dirt gloves, Astrid standing still and attentive as if to involve herself somehow in the conversation the Chief was having with Spitelout, both Chiefly hands pushing back red hair and resting against a mighty back.

Some serious talk about the Outcasts, it looked like, from the way Spitelout was shouting. It seemed that even during the good times, the Chief stayed alert and Spitelout stayed on edge, but there was a softer quality to it here, one that said ‘of course’ and made it seem more funny and fitting than worrying.

“Hey!” You heard the small Larson kid shout as he chased after a girl with bright blue ribbons in her straw-colored hair which held two thick braids together.

Your attention was briefly drawn towards the indignant shout.

It was then that the Chief briefly turned his attention towards his son, causing your focus to snap back and forth between him and Hiccup with a loud, “Hiccup!”

Hiccup shook him off with his head, despite the fact that you were sure he’d approach, but the look on his face seemed to beg you to keep taking in everything.

There were dragons lounging on the treetops, all of the Riders’ dragons plus Thornado, off in the far distance, napping on a roof, yellow, which had been covered in soft, grassy plants and clovers, a viking below shouting up at him with a shaking fist.

Stormfly was bobbing her head like a chicken, sitting at the head of a mounted head, which tipped and cracked dangerously under her weight.

Barf and Belch were off causing chaos, wiggling their heads over a crown of kids while Meatlug was being pampered with fish from a shaded barred and scratched by her rider.

Everyone seemed surprisingly not displeased by the change.

You could tell who’d helped with the planting by the dirt caked onto their hands and under their nails and by how close they were to the various shovels and buckets piled along the clearing.

Some Vikings had ripped sleeves, others were sweating, arms over their heads to block out the sun, trousers rolled up and helmets displaced off to the side in the shade by huts and under benches.

Even Mrs. Thorston had come down at one point, harping at other various Vikings and sending googly eyes and comments the Chief either didn’t hear or pretended not to towards his back

You weren’t sure how you missed the sound of chatter, deep and thick all around you.

The two blonde ladies who’d roped you into beadmaking before stood side-by-side, your laundry partner standing tall with crossed arms, gloves dirtied from digging, staining the crooks of her elbows.

She was sewing, needle held over a worn, dirty smock, a dark brown dress and boots packed underneath.

She nudged your laundry partner in the shoulder, pointing towards you with the hand holding her needlepoint.

You even caught a glimpse of the brown-haired fisherman keeping to the more empty alleys and shaded sides of the village clearing, looking as if he’d kind of enjoyed the festivities but also very overwhelmed.

You knew Vikings easily took in the down time given before the storm hit. It was human nature, and with the time to work off restless energy, it seemed a taut line had been released, the air filled with laughter and the bustling, joyful and indignant arguments of children.

The flowers mixed with the paints on the huts and the traditional wood-carved builds on Berk’s homes, which had in fact only grown more complicated since the fall of the Red Death, Berk looked absolutely beautiful. Like everyone here had been born into some sort of eternal festival, and you had just been transported into it; a human in a world made by people who existed beyond reality.

“How did you-... You convinced them to do all of this?” The ‘for me,’ went unsaid. You were too scared to say it, afraid that if you did, the illusion might break and this would all turn out to be a pretty lie, and a pretty lie it was.

You slowly looked back to him, your waist carrying the bulk of your turn.

Someone had just finished clapping him on the back, having must have had at least some exchange of words while you were turned, sharing congratulations as they passed to a hardy woman with a large pitcher of something probably cool and a few mugs. Was it Gobber?

You couldn’t tell.

You didn’t know Hiccup was such a landscaper.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, arms behind his back and stance wide as he shifted his weight on his feet, “They loosened up to the idea after I brought up what they’d do to cover the pipes.”

You noticed the dirt on his elbows, the lack of twine on his sleeves and the splashes of yellow and red paint on his cheek that told you that the color on the houses had looked brighter and more plentiful for a reason.

“I, ah,” You said, stepping closer; leaning closer until you stopped just right in front of him. You could have said something about root damage, maybe, or, or… Anything that would have come out coherent in any sort of way.

But instead, you felt static, and there was nothing to lead you but the fresh feeling in your chest and the prickling in your toes, intense in a dizzying way that nearly threw you off balance.

“You… Planted all this, for me?” You asked, astonished. Against your will, your face began to heat up in a way that must have looked obvious; you felt blotchy and out of place and absolutely light, airy on the inside in a way that brought you both closer to the moment and into the third perspective.

You were here and with Hiccup.

Were you going to do it? You weren’t sure where the question had come from, dazed.

He was looking at you with wide eyes as you grabbed his shoulders and leaned closer, closing your own so hard they must have looked like they had been pinched, though you were incredibly aware.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world was watching, paranoia and embarrassment filling your back, each hair on your neck raising in tune with the number of eyes focused on your spine.

You didn’t have to see to know it, though you spotted people stilling and staring in your periphery.

You weren’t sure whether you did or didn't purse your lips though you knew Hiccup was watching, his shoulders stiffening under your hands.

What if you read this all wrong and you were about to embarrass yourself in front of everybody?

…What were you going to do? Were you really going to try and kiss Hiccup for the first time in front of all his friends and family?

Your back and neck felt hot as if you were sweating, heat fluttering and writhing and squirming in your stomach, rising in a quick crescendo though you knew it wouldn’t be until a few moments yet that you’d feel the first bits of moisture against the small of your waist.

It was too much.

You were brought back into yourself with a jump like the cracking of a stick, able to feel every raw edge like a breeze on an exposed nerve or an out-of-place note in sharp.

“I can’t do this!” You squeaked and slapped your hands over your eyes as you quickly turned and ran away, face burning with embarrassment.

“Wait-!” Hiccup stood, dazed for just a moment, watching your cramble away, running sightlessly back onto the path away from the village through the minor crowd that had gathered there.

He felt slightly robbed, hand extended. It was very, very hot out and his insides burned in a way that, put together, made him feel on fire in a way that was nearly unbearable.

He stepped over a rose, the rose, a nice enough red one he was sure you hadn’t noticed. The petals had been slightly crumpled and ripped as he’d pulled it from his coat, hastily shoved in when he’d seen you walking up to the village from the fields.

It had fallen from his hands after his hands had fallen to his sides as you’d stepped closer with-

Hiccup stared intently at where you had run off to, brows furrowed, feeling very determined.

He needed to catch up to you now.

“Woah,” Tuffnut said, voice dragging distantly, standing in awe a few measures behind him, as people began to laugh and gossip, “That was lame.”

It seemed Hiccup was the only one who’d taken it seriously, the other Vikings happy to play and gossip while what seemed like the most pivotal moment of his life happened right in front of them -No, he was not exaggerating.

His prosthetic creaked as he whipped around, calling for his dragon, “Toothless-!”

He ignored the excited murders beginning in the background, heart racing.

You’d been… very close.

His dragon was there, giving him as much of a look as there was possible for him to give, as if he himself was somewhat embarrassed by the whole event.

Hiccup gave him a look of his own, wordlessly asking his dragon, ‘So what?’

Hiccup didn’t know what he expected from him as Toothless turned and started trotting away, snorting and grawping as he disappeared into a heavily planted alley, just before he jumped up onto one of the many ramps covering Berk lining the rear ends of some of the houses.

“Aw, come on-” Hiccup started before very quickly running after his dragon, like he did way back across rooftops when dragons were nothing to him but bloodthirsty monsters, arms outstretched, nearly tripping as his foot caught on a tuft of grass, “Toothless!”

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