#in all honesty I never expected to continue their story

[shady-tavern]

Part 2 of this short story.

You magicked some blood splatters away after teleporting home, stretching your fingers until they cracked in dark satisfaction. You were getting closer and closer to figuring out just where the Brotherhood had its headquarters.

To your dismay, you had to realize that this infernal organization had grown very, very big. Big enough to have kings and queens on their side, being supported by other royalty and even a thieves guild you had done business with in the past. And here you had thought their leader was one of the smart ones.

A brief glance into the kitchen showed that Melina was working on an advanced healing salve. She looked incredibly focused and one of your constructs was lingering nearby, ready to be of aid should she need it. The girl had things well in hand, however and you couldn’t help but feel that warm curl of pride filling your chest.

You had never thought that having a student was like this. You yourself had probably been more trouble than you were worth growing up and you knew your former teachers were all collectively horrified by what you had done, both to yourself in order to become a lich-mage and everything afterwards.

You ducked out of the kitchen without disturbing Melina, closing the door quietly. She’d be done soon, you had come back just in time to avoid worrying her. The skulls you passed by were silent and empty, devoid of a certain ghost’s presence. You had no idea where Mortimer was, but sometimes he just seemed to be…somewhere, doing whatever ghosts did.

You entered a separate study room on the ground floor, one you had repurposed for the task of keeping track of the Brotherhood. You marked off another camp of theirs you had left in ruin and set down the stack of papers you had liberated. Sadly, those guys had been small fry, but at least you had another name of a high ranking member now. Soon you’d have enough information to take them all down.

It was tedious but necessary work if you wanted to root this organization out root and stem. Such nastiness was not allowed to come back while you weren’t looking. Melina’s life would never be threatened by the likes of them again.

A crackle along your wards made you pause in surprise. A visitor? And one so brazen as well. Ah, there was only one person who walked into your home fearlessly. Or rather, two, now that you had Melina living here.

You stepped out of the study just as the front door got thrown open and Priscilla swept inside in all her powerful sunshine glory. She easily could have become a lich-mage herself, but she had the unfortunate habit of taking deep breaths and making rational decisions. Most of the times at least.

Priscilla had taken you under her wing when the two of you had been students and she had remained a steadfast, loyal, annoying and kind friend over all those years. The world would shatter before you would not aid her should she ever need or want your help.

She had been there the day you had become a lich-mage and had stood guard over your prone body for twenty days and nights. Forgoing sleep and food, she had kept herself awake and standing with magic alone, willing to drain herself down to her last dredges to defend you. 

She had also woken you with incessant poking and a lot of cackling laughter when you had flopped around like a wriggly fish, having to regain control of your body. The moment you were reasonably stable on your feet, she had promptly passed out.

"Oh, you’re home, how lovely. How are you?," she asked cheerfully, forgoing any sort of greeting, but her smile did not reach her eyes.

The way she asked made you narrow your eyes at her. The upside to knowing each other since being eleven was that you were aware of all her tells and habits. And right now she was burning to ask you something and yet, for some reason, held back for the moment. 

It must be important if she had come to visit. The two of you saw each other often enough, but since you both weren’t tied to the whims of time, months or even a year could pass until one checked up on the other.

"I am pleasantly well, I suppose," you answered, still eyeing her. She looked as well as ever, dressed in shimmering finery and jewelry.

"So you haven’t been burning things and people down left and right," she remarked offhandedly.

"How did you find out?" You hadn’t been subtle in the least, but it was surprising that she had noticed. You had once razed an entire warrior clan to the ground and she hadn’t known until you had told her about it over a cup of tea. 

Similarly, Priscilla had once gone hunting a dangerous order that tried to crack the world open like an egg and free some kind of ancient god or evil or whatever without you being aware of it. Which you had learned over that same cup of tea.

You waved her into your study, gesturing at the table with the large map and the research strewn about. "I’m hunting down the Brotherhood."

"Yes, I could gather as much," she said and you tipped your head as you watched her skim over your notes. You knew that glint in her eyes.

"Did they piss you off as well?" you asked and she hummed softly in agreement.

"They tried to recruit me yesterday, did you know?" she asked and it was a purely rhetoric question, since you did not know and you both were aware of that fact. If you had known she had spoken with these cretins you would have kicked down her door at the ass-crack of dawn. "They said there was a lich-mage they might have to take down to get at a cursed child."

At her words, any kind of easygoing mood evaporated immediately. You felt your magic curl up, an unspoken threat, not for Priscilla, because she’d never do anything to harm you, but to the monsters out there. Monsters wearing human skin and convincing people that there were terrible, cursed, awful children that needed slaughtering.

They were not going to touch your student, no matter what. You would burn the world to the ground before that happened.

"I may have used a teeny-tiny bit of a truth serum, entirely unintentional of course. Followed by an absolutely accidental stasis spell," she added and you felt your magic settle again as dark amusement found you. "The fellow is still in my cellar, by the way, in case you want to interrogate him as well."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "You are my favorite for a reason."

She snorted. "I’m your favorite because I snuck out with you when we were thirteen and let you stand on my shoulders in a stinking bog, all to help you collect the nastiest sap I have ever seen in my damn life."

Now you did laugh. "Yes, so you keep reminding me. And thank you, I would love to speak with your guest."

"Just don’t leave any trace behind once you kill him," she said, leaning back against a small table. "I don’t need those fanatics knocking on my door again." Her gaze briefly slid over the map and settled on you. "What did they do?"

It was a fair question. For all your power, you didn’t often bother to go to such lengths when someone angered you. The people you interacted with generally knew not to fuck with you and if they didn’t, they were swiftly and easily taught otherwise. You had more important things to do than topple monarchies every other year or wade through the underbelly of a city to take care of something. 

You were powerful enough that people did not, generally, make an enemy of you. Besides, many desired your aid and wanted you and your power at their fingertips. There was only a tiny handful of mages even willing to perform the sort of spells you liked to play with.

You just had no idea how to tell her you had a student. The last time the two of you had spoken about such things, you had both snorted derisively at the poor fools who burdened themselves in such a way.

Well. You had never shied away from a challenge. You opened your mouth, about to answer, when a knock at the door made the two of you pause. Melina poked her head in after a moment, her excited smile slipping into a hesitant, questioning expression.

Right, she hadn’t met many people since she had come to live with you. You certainly hadn’t introduced her to any other mages, since most of them were annoyances anyway.

"Melina, meet Priscilla," you said, gesturing at your dearest friend. Who was simultaneously also the only person alive who’d mock you without hesitation if you were being an idiot. It was strangely reassuring sometimes. Though, you could do without her and Mortimer teaming up. "We’ve been friends since we were young."

"It’s nice to meet you," Priscilla said, sweeping into an elegant bow and Melina clumsily tried to curtsey back, a jar clutched in her hands.

"Let me see," you said and she quickly handed it over. It took a single glance to know she had brewed it perfectly. "Good work," you said.

Melina perked up, a smile appearing back onto her face. You were also glad to see her less wary around other people. She had used to hunch down, trying to become invisible through sheer force of will, when you had first visited a market together. 

"I’ll join you in a moment," you told her when handing the jar back, only realizing your voice had gone and done that soft and patient thing again when you finished speaking. "Please wait outside."

Melina nodded and quickly ducked away, closing the door again. When you turned back to Priscilla, she had her palms pressed together in front of her face and was squinting at you over her fingertips.

"I wasn’t gone so long that you went and conceived a child, right?" she asked with the sort of sceptic hesitancy that told you she was genuinely unsure. For just a brief moment you considered fucking with her, but you ended up rolling your eyes.

"We saw each other a year ago," you reminded her, but that only made her squint harder.

"You do a lot of questionable stuff," she said, a fact that had never bothered her. Priscilla had about as many morals as you did, which was to say, very little. "You still have that jar of strange flesh."

Ah, yes. You would not explain where you had gotten that. Or why it was still alive.

Then realization hit and her face brightened. A wide grin swept across her face and you resigned yourself to relentless, if kind, teasing. "Wait here!" she gasped and disappeared in a small shower of sunlight sparks.

Blinking, bewildered, you had no idea what that had been about. You were about to go and join Melina, when Priscilla reappeared. This time, she wasn’t alone. 

"Tada!" she exclaimed, gesturing grandly at a reed-thin girl, dressed in all black. The girl’s slim shoulders hunched up uncomfortably and she inched closer to your friend, hugging a book anxiously against her chest. "Meet Caitlin!"

"Hello, Caitlin," you said, offering a polite bow of your own. The girl hesitantly returned it. "Welcome to my home."

"She and Melina should meet," Priscilla said. "Remember when our teachers introduced us?"

You mostly remembered years of mayhem and giggling in hiding spots and lying for each other and helping each other. And a pet toad that had died an unfortunate death and you had held Priscilla as she had cried.

"Of course," you said. Actually, this wasn’t a bad idea. If the girls got along, Melina would have a friend. You had worried a bit about that recently. It wasn’t healthy to be cooped up inside so much, even if the girl accompanied you to the nearby town to buy supplies.

You motioned for them to follow you and you found Melina waiting in the hallway, fiddling with her jar. She looked up and paused when she saw who followed you.

"Melina, meet Caitlin," you said, gesturing at the girl who still tried to do her best to either turn invisible or somehow fold herself into a tiny shape. Though now she seemed hesitantly curious as well. "Why don’t you show her around a bit?"

"Alright," Melina said and Caitlin stepped away from Priscilla, glancing back once worriedly. Priscilla smiled encouragingly and calmingly, shooing her onward with silent gestures.

You heard the girls starting to talk as they disappeared around the corner. Slowly and cautiously at first and then with a bit more confidence. Priscilla nudged you.

"So, you got a student, huh?" she said with a grin and you cast her an unimpressed side-glance.

"Pot, meet kettle." She laughed at your words and briefly bumped your shoulders together, before noticing your curious look and growing solemn.

"I found Caitlin in a ditch," she said quietly after a moment and you saw dark anger burn in her eyes. "Her parents were the sort to think magic was nothing but evil temptation and they decided to get rid of her."

Those parents were no longer alive, you were willing to bet your eyes and tongue on that.

"I did find out where the Brotherhood’s headquarters are," she said suddenly and you felt yourself turn still and dangerous, a side effect of becoming a lich. A very wanted and welcome side effect at that. "We could go check it out once we’re sure the girls get along."

You tipped your head in agreement and after some looking around, you found the girls in the gardens. It was a warm, sunny day and you saw that Caitlin no longer clutched her book as tightly and was smiling hesitantly at something Melina said.

Mortimer had shown up as well in the meantime, since you could see the purple glow filling the eye sockets of a nearby skull. The skull you kept outside for whenever he wanted to look at the gardens. When you glanced at him, the skull dipped the slightest bit in answer, the glow darkening in a way that promised he’d look after the girls. 

No teasing today, not when you could already feel hot blood dripping off of your fingertips. You’d never tell him, but Mortimer really was the best housemate. Even if he sometimes got on your very last nerve.

Melina was talking animatedly, something that had taken her a while to do around you. She had been so careful for so long. Afraid even, at first. You found something soft and happy unfurling within you, almost like weightless wings, whenever you saw her happy. Whenever she could simply be herself, healthy and at ease, knowing she was safe.

A glance at Priscilla revealed a soft expression on her face, a small smile gracing her lips. You had no idea what your own face looked like, but you were certain some of your emotions showed. Especially since there was no reason to hide anything around your dearest friend.

The two of you watched the girls a moment longer to ensure they’d be comfortable in each other’s presence for a while longer. When Caitlin made Melina giggle, both of them examining poisonous plants, you saw the first bloom of a beautiful friendship right there. You nodded at Priscilla and she smiled, bright and cheerful.

"They’re going to be menaces when they’re grown up," your friend said with great satisfaction as you stepped back inside.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "If they’re raised by us, they better be."

This, you decided, would be your greatest legacy. Not your spells and magic nor how you had given up your mortal body, letting ancient, dark magic change it forever. No, your greatest legacy would be helping Melina grow into a competent, confident woman who had the power to make the world tremble at her fingertips.

And, well, you had no intentions of dying anytime soon. If anyone gave her any trouble, you’d gladly offer your aid to squash those fools.

"The Brotherhood is after Melina, isn’t it? That’s why you’re on a rampage," Priscilla said and you hummed in a low tone in agreement. Priscilla looked at you and you saw her magic start to glow beneath her skin as though her veins suddenly filled with light. "Want to destroy them together?"

When you grinned, you knew it was the sort of teeth-baring, awful smile that had sent your old teachers skittering back frightfully when you had seen them last. "With pleasure."

[theemporium]

Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3

kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤

.

“Pads is dating her?!”

Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.

At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.

In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 

You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 

You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 

Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 

“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”

“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 

“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 

It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 

Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—

All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 

“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 

And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 

“Moony, are you seeing this?” 

“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 

“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 

What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 

“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 

“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 

“Such crass language,” you hummed. 

Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 

You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 

His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 

“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 

“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”

.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[shelbgrey]

Honey, I want something for “being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter”. and being Garrett's love interest! I love him, however, he has few things on this platform! Guys are very protective of her as well as girls. Thanks for the attention 🌷💌.

Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HCs:

Paring: daughter!Reader x Dad!Carlisle x Mom!Esme (Reader x Boyfriend!Garrett)

Summary: headcanons about carlisle and Esme's daughter dating Garrett.

💜MasterList 💜twilight MasterList

So I think they're youngest daughter is gonna remain human for awhile. Your the only cullen 'child' that has been legally adopted by carlisle and Esme, So your actually they're daughter.

You were the daughter of an old friend of Esme's, your mother died giving birth to you and your biological father just wasn't fit to take care of you. Esme and Carlisle took you in under your bio-mom's wishes.

Anyway, Esme was over the moon excited to have a baby in the house, she practically never put you down... Unless Carlisle wanted to hold you and cuddle you.

The two never really gotten the chance to be actual parents, with the other's they were already grown and matured, but with you they could finally experience parent hood.

Your defently a daddy's girl, Carlisle loves you with every single cell in his body and he's very over protective of you... Unfortunately to the point he didn't trust Jasper alone with you when you were a baby.

Speaking of Jasper and siblings, you literally have the best siblings in the world. If you thought carlisle was over protective just wait till you see the boys.

Emmett and you are the closet, he's always making you laugh and 'wrestling'. He'll do just about anything for you or with you. He's probably also the most protective out of your three brothers.

When you were little Edward would often read you stories and teach you how to play piano.

Jasper is your go to person when you have a problem, he's the best listener and he has your back.

As you got older the protectiveness got old, high school wasn't easy with them around but honestly they're the reason you survived.

But the protectiveness didn't get really annoying till you met Garrett, your mate.

In all honesty it's Edward and Bella's fault (Emmett words not yours). You and Bella don't get along at all and she's jealous of yours and Edward's relationship... That's a story for another time though, this is yours and Garrett's story.

Anyway, the family didn't really expect it to happen. After going to Egypt with your parents you decided to met the other guests, that's how you met Garrett.

He cought your eye immediately and the feeling was mutual, Carlisle didn't like how Garrett would look at you.

“who were you talking to?” your dad asked after leaving the living room. “dose it matter?”

“no, no, it doesn't matter unless it's a Boy!”

You just brushed it off, knowing your dad was just being over protective and You continued to get to know Garrett.

You thought he was very charming and funny. Dispite the situation you were currently in with Renesmee he was always making you laugh.

Your parents were happy and all, but at the same time Carlisle didn't want to see you get hurt.

“Dad, what are you doing?” you asked after put some space between you and Garrett.

“there should be a safe distance between you and boys... Especially this one”

Anyway, Garrett realized the problem and went to Carlisle about it. They were both old fashion.

“I think I love your daughter and I want to your promising to date her”

Carlisle's problems seemed to go away slightly. “well it's up to her... But if you hurt her you'll deal with me”

after your family won the battle with the vulturi he took you at on that date. He treated you like a queen the whole time and he asked you to be his girlfriend at the end of the night.

So he did join the coven after awhile. The whole nomad life wasn't pleasant to him anymore. He even changed to the vegetarian diet for you.

He likes like being productive of you, but he knows you can take care of yourself.

Emmett dose send deth threats when you started dating. “you better not hurt her” carlisle doesn't have a violent bone in his body, but Emmett dose.

But after the family saw how happy you were they welcomed Garrett into the family with open arms.

“I'll follow you anywhere woman” he smiled.

[elysiumarchieve]

THIS IS ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT BECAUSE I CANNOT CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT RN AND I MADE THIS IN A HURRY DJSJFJS

gn! s/o reacting to his new outfit

warnings: 3.2/3.3 story spoiler??, posted before 3.2 update and story quest, self indulgent fluff because i love him so much, we waited for our dude for now almost TWO YEARS, happy scaramouche day scaramouche nation

✧ seeing him in blue was rather new to you, in all honesty, it actually shocked you when he finally showcased himself to you, his arms crossed before his chest as he waited for you to react to his new outfit

✧ after seeing the same black and red for years and not even the slightest change in his wardrobe either (as he said he had no need for new clothing), the sheer surprise on your face was to be expected

✧ you rubbed your eyes once, then twice, and then blinked real hard multiple times before looking back up at his face, but he only frowned at your reaction

✧ did he look bad? why do you react like that? not that i mattered to him, but regardless...

✧ you had to explain to him that blue was a completely new color on him, but in a positive way. after all, even his old hat was gone (however, you did mourn the veil that was now missing on him)

✧ when he scoffs at your excitement, you're happy that his attitude did not change - or rather, his god complex and huge ego combined with his superiority complex did tone down to an extent where he's finally able to keep up a conversation without looking down on everyone all the time (he still sneered at the traveler when he first saw them again, though paimon was quick to remind him of his defeat)

✧ his plan to become sumeru's new god failed and you couldn't be happier, especially after you saw the glowing anemo vision proudly attached to a cloth right before his chest, where his heart should be (a nice choice of placement was your only thought as you saw it for the first time)

✧ though you knew scaramouche well enough to know that he'd never admit to be amazed by the small gemstone, the smirk he gives you tells you otherwise - he can try and hide it all he wants, but you can figure out his true feelings behind that snarky gremlin face

✧ he prides himself a little over your reaction. it was expected of him to look good in whatever he wears, so it didn't surprise him that you were like this. he looks good whatever he wears

✧ if you want to continue following him, he won't try to stop you. after coming to a,,, mutual agreement with the traveler on how things are going to continue after he tried to kill them after he decided that he made up his mind, if you follow him even after betraying your trust just a little he'll be more than glad to let you accompany him

✧ you two regularly would head to tatarasuna and tend to katsuragi's grave whenever there was time to do so

✧ while his new fit did not change the fact that he was a litte shit at times, receiving his vision did change his view on the world - in your eyes, that also reflected in how bright his outfit was now, considering that before he wore the same monotonous black for years and now a bright and refreshing blue

✧ and sometimes you can sense that he's also happy about this change

[writinground2]

Bad Guy - Leah Williamson

Based on a request for more Angsty Leah

This ended up a lot different and longer than I expected it to. There is the potential for a part two if there is interest.

“Never have I ever, cheated on someone,” Ella spoke. 

The lionesses playing the drinking game with water at their team bonding night, everyone spread out in the small hotel room. The night had moved from card games and movies to the game of Never Have I Ever to get to know each other a little more. 

A few took bashful sips, admitting their previous infidelity, all looking guilty about their actions. Leah scoffed when she noticed Y/N does not take a sip. 

“Seems fitting this is a question you choose to lie about,” the blonde rolls her eyes. 

“I’m not lying,” Y/N mutters, keeping her head down, hoping someone else will continue the game and the attention would be taken off her. 

Leah opens her mouth to bite back, “whatever,” she sneers instead when Millie sharply elbows her in the side. 

The room sits in awkward silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say. Most wanted to ask more questions about the interaction, having never seen the either woman be anything but professional towards each other since their friendship had fallen apart only a few months ago. 

“Umm, never have I ever, broken a bone,” Jordan spoke up to end the tense silence. She knew it would draw the attention off Y/N, so many of the players wanting to compete with who had the coolest or worst injury story. 

Y/N played a few more rounds before quietly slipping out of the room. No one noticing until they hear the click of the door. 

“Time for bed!” Millie was quick to usher everyone out of her before anyone could question Leah about her tense interaction with Y/N. 

No one knew the cause of the fallout between the two friends. They had been friends since staring on the youth teams years ago, thick as thieves early on. Then, suddenly, Y/N was being sent on loan to Arsenal from Aston Villa and Leah wanted nothing to do with her best friend. Jordan and Rachel avoided Y/N their first international break after the loan, but seemed fine the next camp, both giving the older girl sympathetic looks. Leah would remain professional with her former best friend, but it was apparent something significant occurred within Y/N’s loan. 

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled as she almost walked into Leah as she walked out of the bathroom as Leah entered their shared room. Because of course they would be roomed together. Staff didn’t realize the tension in the friendship, leaving them paired as they normally were. 

“I bet you are,” her tone saturated with in sarcasm, “nothing but lies coming out of your mouth.”

“I never cheated Leah,” Y/N whispered, standing at the end of her bed, face crumpling while she tried to convey her honesty to the blonde. 

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I was there that night; we all saw you with that girl at the bar. We saw you fighting with Sydney before you left,” Leah squared her shoulders to confront Y/N, she wasn’t going to let Y/N deny her infidelity anymore. 

“I know,” Y/N couldn’t meet the blondes eye, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “but, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Leah mocked her. 

“I know it’s cliché, but It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Yeah? So what was it supposed to look like? Because, what it looked like, was you fighting with your girlfriend, then getting into a car of girls, and me being left with your crying girlfriend.”

“I didn’t get in the car,” Y/N whispered, but Leah wasn’t listening. 

“That you kicked her out of your house only to show up at Arsenal. Single at that too!” 

She glared Y/N down, eyes set, and jaw clenched, waiting for Y/N to answer. Sydney had been Y/N’s girlfriend of two years, the couple living together for one. She had grown close with the blonde, the pair loving to team up to make fun of Y/N. Sydney was the liaison for the marketing company for Aston Villa. 

“I didn’t cheat, I didn’t get in the car that night,” Y/N repeated. 

She knew how that night appeared to anyone watching on. That it easily appeared like Y/N and her girlfriend gotten into a fight, leaving her at the bar to get into a car full of girls. That she left her girlfriend in another city and moved to another team to avoid dealing with the consequences of her actions. 

Leah continued to stare Y/N down, “if you want me to believe that, then what was it supposed to look like?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, scraping both hands down her face. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Leah the truth, but telling the truth also meant baring Sydney’s actions and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. 

“I found out after the game that Villa wasn’t going to extend my contract. But they wanted to do whatever they could to squeeze as much money out of me before I left. They told a few teams interested that I was getting re-signed, even though I wasn’t, so that teams would bid for the loan rights. They hoped teams would sign the loan, then get a big transfer fee next season.”

Leah softened slightly, she couldn’t imagine being regarded only as a price tag, “this doesn’t have anything to with you supposedly not cheating.”

“I told Sydney before we went out. She didn’t really understand, hell I didn’t understand it, but she was mad because she thought it meant I was asking to be loaned out. When we went to the bar to get another round, she told me she was going to move out and went back to the table before I could say anything.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed with a defeated sigh, she might as well tell the whole story. She didn’t want to potentially ruin Leah’s friendship with Sydney, but she also couldn’t risk this to continue to put strain on their professional relationship. 

“I thought that meant she didn’t want me around, so I decided to go home, let you guys enjoy the night. On the way out, there was a group of girls trying to get their friend in the backseat of the car to leave, but she was too drunk to stand, so I helped them. She got in the car, they left, and I went home.”

“But your car was still at the pub.”

“I walked; Sydney had the keys.”

Leah crossed her arms while she analyzed what Y/N told her. It was possible Y/N helped the group of girls, she always helped people around her. Y/N had hurt her wrist during the game and probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the gear shift to drive. 

Taking the older girl in, Leah could see how tired she genuinely looked. How it looked like a struggle to just keep herself sitting upright and bags under her eyes when she would briefly make eye contact. 

“She didn’t come home until the next afternoon.”

“She stayed with Jordan,” Leah snapped, she wasn’t going to let Y/N imply Sydney cheated to make herself sound better. 

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “Jordan called me that night to yell at me when Sydney showed up there upset.”

Leah smiled a bit, she knew how protective Jordan could be and could imagine the earful she would have given Y/N, “good, you deserved it.”

“Damnit Leah, I didn’t cheat, and I didn’t kick her out!”

Y/N stood abruptly from the bed, frowning. Leah dropped her arms, mouth opening in shock at the sudden shift in Y/N. 

“She broke up with me! She cheated! She told she found someone better, more attractive, that she never really found me attractive. I lived in a hotel for two weeks before Villa sent me to Arsenal like I was nothing!”

Y/N begun pacing the room. 

“I had to miss training so I could pack my bags while she was at work. She got the house and everything in it and all I have is a couple bags and a few boxes.”

Leah didn’t know any of that. Sydney had told her Y/N kicked her out of the house and she believed it. And she certainly never said anything about seeing someone else. It was starting to be clear that Leah truly didn’t know the full story, or at least, not the true story. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

Y/N deflated at the question, sinking back down on the edge of the bed, “she was your friend too, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Any anger the defender felt was gone now. Y/N had spent months protecting Sydney even though she didn’t deserve it. She had been taking the brunt of Leah’s anger without saying anything for months.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I – “

“It’s alright. It was easier to be the bad guy in her story than fight it.”

Leah made her way across the room, sitting next to Y/N, her whole body pressing into Y/N’s side. 

“It’s not alright, you took so much of my anger when you didn’t deserve any of it. You took Jordan and Rachels too.”

Leah sounded astonished when she spoke, realizing how terrible Y/N had been treated. That she tolerated everyone’s accusations and criticisms while dealing with the truth of the breakup and club loan alone. Y/N should have been angry at everyone and should have told them all the truth about her breakup.

“They figured it out when they took her for drinks,” Y/N shrugged and Leah could tell she was trying to detach herself while telling the story, “She showed up with her new girlfriend. I wasn’t even at Arsenal yet.”

Leah shook her head. She was so angry at herself now. How could she believe someone she knew two years over her best friend she had known for fifteen? She had been so blinded by her anger, she let herself be manipulated into believing her best friend would have done anything like that. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Y/N pushed herself up. 

Leah launched herself from the bed and into Y/N’s side, pinning her arms in place in a tight bear hug, “I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

“it’s alright, really.”

“It’s not!” Leah pulled away but kept her grip on Y/N’s and forced her to face her, “you went through all of that alone and you let yourself be the bad guy when you shouldn’t have.”

Y/N tried to pull away only for Leah to tighten her grip, one hand clasping the back of her neck so they are forced to meet eyes, “I cannot apologize enough for how I have been to you, but I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me. I just want us to go back to being friends.”

The blonde eagerly nodded at that, letting Y/N pull away this time to settle into bed. 

Leah rushed to complete her bedtime routine before sliding into her own bed. She settles on her side to look over at Y/N facing away from her, chest rising and falling steadily, fast asleep. 

Incessant buzzing wakes Leah far too early the next morning. Y/N mutters soft swears while frantically trying to silence the device and hide the bright screen to avoid waking her roommate. 

The buzzing stops as Y/N throws a hoodie on and is leaving the room as the buzzing starts again. Leah can hear Y/N speaking in the hallway now, she tries to stay awake to make sure everything is alright but sleep quickly wins. Y/N isn’t in the room when she wakes again a few hours later. She gets ready for team breakfast and sits on her bed, waiting for Y/N to return, before rushing out the room when she realizes she’ll be late otherwise. 

Y/N is already seated at a table away from everyone when she gets downstairs. She has her knees tucked up on the edge of her chair with her chin resting on them and a coffee cup clasped in both hands against her chest. Even across the room, Leah can see how exhausted she looks. 

After making a plate, she begins to make her way towards Y/N but is stopped by a hand tugging her to a stop. Jordan shaking her head ‘no’, telling her to leave Y/N alone for the time being. Leah looks back over, debating if she should listen or not. Sighing, she settles next to the midfielder. They’re friendship just starting to be repaired. 

“She told you the truth about Sydney,” it isn’t a question. 

Leah nods slowly, unsure why it matters. 

“Did you say anything to Sydney when you found out?”

Nodding again slowly, “I texted her when Y/N went to sleep and said I was upset she hadn’t told me the truth.”

Jordan clenched her jaw and nodded too, “Sydney is pissed.”

Leah quickly pulled her phone out to see If she had missed a message, furrowing her brow when she hadn’t. 

“Not at you. She’ll take it out on Y/N.”

Her eyes quickly shot over to Y/N. Y/N’s phone was face down on the table, but she was staring intensely at it. 

“That was the phone call,” she realized. 

The midfielder nodded, already seeming to know what the morning had been like for Y/N. 

“Even though they broke up months ago, she still texts Y/N almost every day. She’s,” Jordan pauses while she considers her words, “cruel with everything she has to say.” 

“What do you mean?”

Jordan glances around the table, when she sees no one is paying attention to them she continues, “at first, she was mad Y/N wouldn’t stay her friend. Then it was that she turned Rachel and me against her. But it’s mostly attacking anything about her; her looks, her career, mocks her for being single or being upset with what happened. She’s truly ruthless.”

Leah is disgusted when she hears what someone she considered a friend was doing to Y/N. Guilt settling deep in her gut at how wrong she had been about the whole situation. Jordan can see the thoughts she once had pass across Leah’s face while she watches Y/N toss her phone back down. 

“Rach and I thought the same too. She was convincing when she told us what Y/N supposedly did, I think she believes it herself that she didn’t do anything wrong. She was confused when we didn’t understand how she had the house and a new girlfriend while Y/N was stuck in a hotel in a new city.”

“How long did she have to stay in a hotel once she got to London?”

“She’s still in a hotel,” Jordan shakes her head. She knew Y/N had been so battered down, that she didn’t think Arsenal would keep her around long enough to make a flat wroth it. 

Fortunately, there isn’t much time during the day for players to be on their phones. But during the breaks they do have, Y/N slinks away from the group to skim her few new messages. Each time she returns to the group, Leah can see her force a smile on her face, convincing everyone around she is fine. She does manage to put on a good show of being alright, but Leah can see right through the fraudulent smile and forced laughs. 

Y/N’s phone vibrates on the night stand that night while she goes through her nightly routine in the bathroom. Leah ignores the first message, only for several more to follow, glancing at the screen she sees Sydney’s name.

“Sorry, I meant to silence it,” Y/N apologizes, and she takes it off the nightstand. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the defender dismisses her, “Jordan said she’s pretty mean. I didn’t know she still messaged you, if I had, I wouldn’t have texted her last night.” 

Y/N glances at the blonde, nodding slowly, before shrugging her shoulders while she skimmed the new messages and typing out a short reply before tossing the phone onto the bed next to her. 

“Jordan only read them because she thought I was seeing someone,” Y/N gave what almost looked like a genuine smile, “my phone kept going off while we were out once. She stole it, thinking she would get some juicy messages. Once she saw what the messages were, she went through most of them.”

“I know I have no place to ask this, but can I see them?”

Leah could see her tense and bite her lip, clearly considering the question. 

“Why didn’t you ask me about what happened that night? Or trust that I would never do something like that?”

The blonde nodded, they were valid questions, questions she had been considering since the night before. 

“She was damn convincing. You weren’t you that whole night, then she came back to the table crying and you were outside with some girl draped all over you. It was all so believable, she made it believable.”

Y/N risked a small glance towards the other bed. Leah had propped herself up on an elbow, staring intently at Y/N. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, a mixture of pity and guilt maybe. 

“I never thought you could do something like that. And she was so convincing. I was just blinded by my anger that I let myself be fooled. I am so sorry that I let myself be tricked and ruined our friendship when I should have just asked you.”

The pity was gone, guilt settled across her face. 

Y/N wordlessly handed her phone across the space between the beds. Leah pushed herself to take the phone, settling on her back to read the messages. 

Leah read the most recent messages first, slowly working her way backwards. Reading the vile things Sydney had been sending Y/N throughout the day, Y/N offering short messages to amend her ex’s anger. 

Y/N fixed her gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to see the blondes reaction as she read the messages, unwilling to see her agree with Sydney.

The phone dropped after a minute of her reading the messages, Leah unable to finish see anymore, disgusted with the things sent. The messages all varied in length, but they all attacked Y/N in every capacity that she could. She criticized anything she could to get a reaction from Y/N. 

Leah pushed herself to hang her legs off the side of the bed. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know what emotion was the strongest right now. Part of her wanted to storm out of the hotel and confront Sydney. Part of her wanted to wrap Y/N in the tightest hug possible and mend all the broken pieces. All she could bring herself to do was sit with her head in her hands. 

“I, Y/N, fuck,” she could only stutter out, “I don’t even know what to say. Those are, she’s, those are all so fucked.”

Y/N shrugged, “is what it is.”

“it’s not! What she’s saying is so wrong and fucked up!” 

Anger overtaking as she stood up, harshly running her hand through her hair, “you need to block her!”

“I can’t,” Y/N whispered. 

Leah just looked at her, mouth opening and closing. 

“I blocked her on socials and she lost it. When I tried to block her number, she took it out on Rach and Jords, messaging them and all that. She left them alone when I unblocked her.”

She shook her head, Y/N continued to protect everyone but herself. 

“They can handle themselves; you don’t need to protect them.”

 Y/N stubbornly shook her head, refusing to accept that, “they don’t need to be part of this.” 

Leah couldn’t believe Y/N was willing to continue to handle this all on her own. She sat herself on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently placing a hand on her thigh, encouraging her make eye contact with her. 

“I don’t have it in me to fight anymore, I never really did,” Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, shoulder rounded in, “I didn’t fight the breakup, I gave her the house, I didn’t fight anything she told people. I just want to be done with it.”

Her voice trembled, tipping her head back, hoping to keep the tears from falling. 

“Looking back, I think she broke me down years ago.”

Leah’s heart ached as Y/N spoke, “I am so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I should have been there for you, I will be here for you.”

Leah eventually made her way back to her own bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, lying on her side watching Y/N tucked into herself. She couldn’t imagine how Y/N had handled the last months completely alone, while also having people viewing her as the bad guy in the story. Guilt rocked her, she was one of those people. 

Y/N’s phone remained quiet the next day and Leah could see the relief it left Y/N with. 

“You know, you and I are friends again,” Jordan spoke up when they were alone at their dinner table that night. 

Leah furrowed her brow and slowly nodded, agreeing with the statement. 

“It would be alright if anything started with the two of you,” Jordan gave her a small smile, “Gee told me how disappointed you were when Y/N started seeing Sydney a couple years ago.”

Leah blushed, anxiously running her thumb along her bottom lip, risking a glance to Y/N the table over. Jordan wasn’t wrong. She had been disappointed at the start of Y/N’s relationship. Her feeling had developed when Y/N had been such a good, supportive friend for both her and Jordan when they broke up, even before they broke up, supporting them when it became rocky. 

It hadn’t been something she had expected to happen. She didn’t even know what it was that she was feeling, only realizing her attraction when Y/N excitedly told them about her new relationship at an international camp. The distress at the announcement, she immediately understood she was attracted. 

“You would be really good for her. She needs someone to be good to her, and I think that’s you.”

“I didn’t even realize what I felt until I heard she was dating someone,” Leah felt a little defensive as she spoke. 

Jordan was quick to place a reassuring hand on Leah’s arm, “it’s alright. I know it’s all new for you. And I’m not saying you should do anything about it. Just pointing out that you would be good for.” 

Leah bashfully looked away, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it at one point, she’d also be lying if she denied it being more than once. 

“Last time I could get her to say anything about dating again, she said she swore it off because she doesn’t think she’s worth it anymore.”

The weight in her gut gets heavier the more she’s told about Y/N the last few months  

“But I think she’s just waiting for someone to prove her wrong about it all.”

Leah is amazed at how easily Y/N can move past the months she had been treated so horribly. They easily return to being friends. The guilt is still weighing on her, but it eases slightly when she sees Y/N genuinely smile at her. Her attraction surging back to the front of her mind. 

“Fuck!” 

Leah rushes out of the bathroom when she hears Y/N’s phone hitting the wall. Y/N’s pacing aggressively, harshly running her fingers through her hair.

“What’s happened?” she picks up the phone, inspecting it to ensure it isn’t broken, placing it on the dresser. 

“Arsenal cancelled my hotel room. I’m homeless when I get back to London.”

Leah jolts when Y/N kicks the bed. 

“Good thing I don’t have any stuff to worry about,” she lets out a humourless laugh, kicking the bed a few more times. 

After one last kick, Y/N crumples to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head between them as sobs wracked her body. Leah rushes to her side, pulling her tight to her chest. Y/N doesn’t fight the action but keeps herself curled into herself. 

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

Y/N scrambles away. 

“Shit, that sounds bad,” the blonde stays on the floor, “Arsenal cancelled your room because you’re going to move in with me. I was going to tell you once we got in bed, I just called them after dinner, I didn’t think they would tell you so fast.” 

Y/N whirls around and stares down at the defender. Leah slowly pushes herself off the floor. 

“You need a home Y/N, I want to give that to you,”

When Y/N doesn’t say anything, Leah frantically thinks of anything to say to fix it. Y/N crashes her body into Leah and the blonde can feel the tears soaking her shirt. She’s sure she’ll have bruises on her side where Y/N is gripping into her. Managing to pull a handout to rub up and down Y/N’s back as her sobs continue. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Y/N pulls away, using the sleeve of her hoodie to try and wipe the snot smeared on the blonde’s neck. 

Leah shakes her head, batting the hand away to pull her back into her, “you don’t need to be sorry or say anything. Just come live with me. I have a spare room; I want you to come stay in It.” Once Y/N nods, Leah guides her to lay in her bed, tucking her in. 

The first week living together is awkward. If it wasn’t for the meals left for Leah and the fact that they carpool to training, she would think Y/N wasn’t staying there. Y/N is the perfect house guest, Leah’s house cleaner than when she moved in. But other than seeing her in passing, Leah hardly saw her new roommate. 

Leah grabs Y/N’s arm immediately when they walk through the door, preventing her from running away. 

“This your home now, too. You don’t need to hide in your room. Unpack, eat meals with me, shower here,” she emphasized, knowing Y/N hadn’t even showered at the flat yet, only showering at the training facility. 

Y/N shrunk under Leah’s stare. She had been doing her best to remain as out of site at possible, whatever she could to avoid upsetting the blonde, “I wanted to stay out of your way.” 

“And I want you in my way.” 

Y/N shook her head, not understanding what she meant. 

“I want you to live your life and feel comfortable.”

The next few weeks, Y/N does make an effort to leave her room more, making Leah smile. Y/N waits to eat her meals with Leah now, leaves a pair of shoes by the door, shower products along the tub edge.

“I blocked her,” she whispers between bites at breakfast, “Rach and Jordan did too.”

Leah lets her fork clatter to table as Y/N spoke. 

“I am so, so proud of you Y/N,” she grips Y/N’s wrist across the table, her smile wide as her eyes crinkle. 

Y/N just shrugs and continues to eat, but Leah keeps her hand where it is with her thumb rubbing across her wrist, picking up her fork to eat with her other hand. 

This was a sign Y/N was healing, moving past the torment her ex had been putting her through for months. Y/N was moving in the right direction. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe she was the person Y/N needed to fix all her broken pieces. 

“Have you thought of dating again?” Leah risked. She knew pursuing Y/N would require a lot of patience and understanding. 

“A little bit, but not in the way you think,” Y/N harshly bit her lip, Leah wishing she could tug it away to safety, “I’m too broken to date, I think. No one wants to be with someone this ruined.” 

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain Y/N must constantly be in to think so poorly of herself, to think that she was too damaged and undeserving of someone to be loved. 

“You are not a reflection of people who couldn’t love you properly,” Leah’s grip tightens until Y/N makes eye contact with her, “I am sorry Sydney loved you so poorly and made you think you took up space you didn’t deserve and abandoned you and hurt you so badly you think love is an awful thing.”

Worried Y/N will start bleeding if she bites any harder on her lip, Leah does use her thumb to tug it out. She can feel it tremble under the pad of her thumb as she slowly drags it across the flesh. 

Y/N runs her tongue over her lip when Leah’s thumb is gone, Leah’s steely eyes tracking the motion. She wanted to run away, worried she might do something and risk moving too fast. Leaving now though would ruin all the work she had done to regain Y/N’s trust. 

Leah continues to show Y/N what love is. Opening her car door when they leave for training. Always letting her choose the show they watch. She attempts breakfast, bacon and eggs, but they ultimately end with cereal when she burns both. She increases physical contact; sitting close enough they touch on the couch, hand grazing her back as she walks past, tucking hair behind her ears. 

Y/N adores all of it. But it makes her panic. She won’t go through all of this again. Won’t have someone show her love and care, only to rip it all away from her. 

So, she runs away. Retreats back into her room. Goes back to leaving meals for the blonde to eat, leaving before the blonde wakes up, meeting her at training. 

Leah stands outside Y/N’s room after training, so she knows Y/N’s in there. But this room has been her one safe space since moving in, the blonde doesn’t want to take that away from Y/N, doesn’t want her to feel trapped. 

Steeling herself, she knocks on the door, three quick raps. 

Y/N doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. Just opens the door and shuffles back. Leah can see her bags packed on the floor next to the bed and the bed neatly made. 

Choosing to ignore the bags for now, Leah settles on the edge of the bed, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really like you and I was hoping I could ease you into idea of being in a relationship again. Unpack your things, I’ll back off.”

“I liked it,” Y/N whispers, sitting next to Leah, “but, I’m not the guy that gets the girl, no happy ending.” 

“You already got the girl though,” Leah’s voice is soft as she speaks, “we can have the happy ending.”

“We can have the happy ending?’

“Not for a long time though, because we have to have a happy everything else first.”

Y/N tugs ones of Leah’s hands in her lap and rests head on her shoulder. Leah drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.   

[todorokis-girl]

On a collision course - Tsukishima Kei x f!Reader

I read a post a while ago and this was the line that caugh my attention: "Well have you considered that maybe the unstoppable force is in love with the immovable object; maybe the reason one refuses to move is because they both long for the collision"

masterlist

The sound of volleyballs hitting the gym floor echoed through Karasuno High School's gymnasium. The boys' volleyball team was practicing, and as usual, Tsukishima Kei was giving it his all, even if his aloof expression didn't show it. His tall frame and impressive blocking skills made him a formidable player on the court, but his sharp tongue and condescending attitude often rubbed people the wrong way.

Y/N, the team's manager, had known Tsukishima since middle school. They had never gotten along. While Y/N was outgoing and passionate, Tsukishima was reserved and indifferent. Their clashes were legendary, and their mutual disdain was well-known among their friends. Y/N believed in encouragement and support, while Tsukishima believed in brutal honesty and criticism.

Today was no different.

"Tsukishima, your timing was off on that last block," Y/N called out, her voice clear and authoritative.

Tsukishima shot her a withering look. "Maybe if you knew anything about volleyball, you'd realize it was a feint. But thanks for your insightful commentary, manager."

Y/N felt her face heat up. "I'm just trying to help. It's not my fault if you're too stubborn to listen."

The tension between them was palpable, and their teammates exchanged wary glances. This was a regular occurrence, and they had learned to stay out of it.

As practice ended, Y/N stayed behind to clean up. She liked the quiet of the gym when everyone else had left. It gave her a chance to think and unwind. She was wiping down the benches when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Tsukishima, his face unreadable.

"Forgot my water bottle," he said curtly, grabbing it from the bench.

Y/N nodded, not wanting to engage further. But as he turned to leave, she couldn't help herself. "You know, just because we don't agree on everything doesn't mean you have to be such a jerk."

Tsukishima stopped and turned back to her, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "And just because you think you're always right doesn't mean you are."

Y/N sighed, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up. "Why do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Why do you always have to be so naive?" he shot back. "This isn't some feel-good story where everyone holds hands and sings Kumbaya. This is volleyball. It's about winning."

Y/N stared at him, her anger giving way to something else. "Maybe it's not just about winning, Tsukishima. Maybe it's also about working together, about being a team."

For a moment, Tsukishima didn't respond. He just looked at her, his eyes searching hers. Then he shook his head. "Whatever. Believe what you want."

As he walked away, Y/N felt a pang of sadness. She didn't understand why he had to be so cold, why he pushed everyone away. She wanted to help him, to break through that wall he had built around himself. But she didn't know how.

Days turned into weeks, and the animosity between Y/N and Tsukishima continued. Yet, something had changed. Their arguments were still frequent, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N found herself alone in the gym once more. She was lost in thought when she heard the door open and close. Expecting it to be one of the players, she was surprised to see Tsukishima.

"Hey," he said, his tone unusually soft.

Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat. "Hey."

There was an awkward silence before Tsukishima spoke again. "I… I wanted to apologize. For earlier. And for… everything."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What brought this on?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am too stubborn. And maybe… maybe I push people away because I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Y/N asked, her voice gentle.

"Of getting close to people. Of getting hurt," he admitted, his eyes downcast.

Y/N's heart ached at his vulnerability. She took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't have to be afraid, Tsukishima. You have people who care about you. And… I care about you too."

He looked up, his eyes searching hers. "You do?"

She nodded, her hand still on his arm. "I do."

For a moment, they just stood there, the air between them charged with emotion. Then, slowly, Tsukishima reached out and pulled her into a hug. It was tentative at first, but as Y/N wrapped her arms around him, he held her tighter.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"It's okay," she whispered back. "We're in this together."

The change in their relationship was gradual but undeniable. They still bickered, but there was a warmth now, a connection that hadn't been there before. They learned to trust each other, to support each other, and in the process, they grew closer.

One evening, after a long day of practice and homework, Y/N and Tsukishima found themselves walking home together. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the town. They walked in comfortable silence, their hands brushing occasionally.

"Do you remember what you said to me in the gym that day?" Tsukishima asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked at him, puzzled. "Which part?"

"The part about working together, about being a team," he said, his voice soft.

She nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

He stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious. "I think… I think that's when I realized I was falling for you."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

He nodded, taking her hands in his. "Yeah. I know I've been difficult, and I've said things I shouldn't have. But the truth is, I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're the unstoppable force, and I'm the immovable object. And maybe… maybe the reason I refused to move was because I longed for the collision."

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes as she smiled. "You know, for someone who doesn't talk about their feelings much, you sure know how to say the right thing."

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "Well, I had a good teacher."

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So, what now?"

"Now," he said, leaning in to kiss her softly, "we see where this collision takes us."

As their lips met, Y/N felt a surge of happiness. She had always believed in the power of working together, of being a team. And now, with Tsukishima by her side, she knew they could face anything.

Together, they were unstoppable.

The days that followed were filled with a newfound sense of camaraderie and affection. Tsukishima, despite his initial reluctance, began to open up more, not just to Y/N but to the entire team. His sharp remarks became less frequent, replaced by genuine contributions and encouragement. The team noticed the change, and their performance on the court improved as a result.

One day, after practice, the team gathered in the locker room. Hinata, ever the curious one, finally voiced what everyone had been wondering.

"Hey, Tsukishima, Y/N," he began, a mischievous grin on his face. "What's going on with you two? You've been acting... different."

Kageyama nodded in agreement, adding, "Yeah, it's like you two are getting along or something."

The rest of the team murmured their agreement, all eyes on Tsukishima and Y/N. Tsukishima glanced at Y/N, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima decided to be honest. "Well, we had a bit of a... breakthrough. We've realized that we work better together rather than against each other."

Hinata's eyes widened in excitement. "Does that mean you two are...?"

Y/N laughed, cutting him off before he could finish. "Yes, Hinata, we're together."

The team erupted in cheers and playful teasing. Nishinoya and Tanaka gave Tsukishima exaggerated thumbs-ups, while Suga and Daichi offered genuine congratulations. Even Kageyama managed a rare smile.

As the team settled down, Tsukishima felt a sense of relief. It felt good to have their support and understanding. He turned to Y/N, who was beaming at him.

"Looks like they approve," she said softly.

"Looks like it," he agreed, squeezing her hand.

Y/N and Tsukishima found solace in each other. They spent their free time studying, hanging out, and sometimes just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. The more they learned about each other, the stronger their bond grew.

One evening, after a particularly tough practice session, the team gathered for a casual dinner at a local diner. As they laughed and shared stories, Y/N couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. She glanced at Tsukishima, who was sitting across from her, engaged in a rare, light-hearted conversation with Hinata and Kageyama.

As if sensing her gaze, Tsukishima looked up and met her eyes. He gave her a small, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. In that moment, she knew that the collision they had both longed for had transformed them in ways they hadn't expected.

After dinner, Tsukishima offered to walk Y/N home. The night was cool, and the stars twinkled above them as they strolled through the quiet streets. Y/N leaned into his side, enjoying the warmth of his presence.

"Thank you," Tsukishima said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up at him, puzzled. "For what?"

"For pushing me," he replied. "For believing in me even when I didn't deserve it. You've changed me, Y/N. You've made me want to be a better person."

She smiled, feeling a swell of affection for the boy who had once been her enemy. "And thank you for letting me in. For trusting me. I wouldn't change a thing."

They walked in silence for a while longer, lost in their thoughts. When they reached Y/N's house, Tsukishima hesitated before speaking again.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, his tone uncharacteristically shy.

"Of course," Y/N replied, curious.

"Do you think… do you think this is real? What we have?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Y/N took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I think it's as real as it gets, Tsukishima. We're not perfect, but we're perfect for each other. And that's what matters."

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned down to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with promise and hope, a symbol of the journey they had taken together.

As they pulled apart, Y/N smiled up at him. "We're unstoppable

, remember?"

He chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, we are."

They said their goodbyes, and as Y/N watched him walk away, she couldn't help but feel excited for the future. They had faced their fears and doubts, and now they were stronger for it. Together, they were ready to take on whatever challenges came their way.

And so, the unstoppable force and the immovable object continued their collision course, hand in hand, ready for whatever the world had in store for them.

[hockeymenarehot]

Late Night Calls Feat. Bill Kaulitz

pairing: best friend!bill kaulitz x fem!reader

summary: bill kaulitz has always been your best friend, and you've always confided to him. when you wake up startled from a nightmare, you decide to call him. what you don't expect are his feelings towards you.

warnings: smut, fem reader, phone sex, masturbation (fem. & m.), squirting, praise, pet names (darling, princess), it's implied he steals your panties, u cry and it turns him on, depictions of nightmares, lmk if I missed anything!

for my bae: @billkaulitzbaeee

You heave in a large amount of air, your body shooting up from its once peaceful resting spot. Your eyes frantically survey your room, and you clutch the silky smoothness of your nightgown as you attempt to collect your thoughts. Just a dream, it was just a dream you repeat in your head as you feel the cool air of your fan, the sweat on your forehead slowly dissipating. The attempt to calm yourself seemed to be working for your mind, but not so much your body. Your heart was still beating at a fast pace, and your ears still had a subtle ring. Deciding that trying to get some sleep on your own would be futile, you slowly reached for your phone.

3:38 A.M.

You weren't sure if your best friend, Bill, would pick up his phone but decided that it was more likely he would. He would do almost anything for you and you knew that. You found comfort in his presence, from his subtle sweet touches to his kind words. He was always there for you. You searched through the sea of your contacts before finding his number, giving it one final thought before pressing the Call button.

Ring, ring. Two full rings before he picks up.

"Hello?"

His voice sounded husky, like you had just awoken him from what might've been the best sleep of his life. Feeling guilty about this quite obvious realization you muster up a meek "Hi," and you begin to question if this was actually a good idea. I mean, it isn't like you've never been vulnerable with him before, but this time seemed so much different.

You couldn't tell what it was that was off, but something about it made you feel a little embarrassed, shameful even. Almost as if you'd walked in on him doing something he wouldn't want you to see. And honestly, you were enjoying it. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" You whisper, still feeling a certain amount of guilt. "No, no, not at all. I barely sleep." Liar, you thought to yourself. "Is there something you needed? Did something happen?" His voice had a slight sense of urgency to it, which you found quite endearing. "No... well, sort of," you begin quietly "I had a nightmare..." Your voice left your mouth in almost a whine, and you could almost catch the way his breath hitched over the poor phone quality. "I'm sorry, darling" That name he had never referred to you by. Strange. "Tell me... tell me what happened." Some shuffling on his end. You began telling him about the great atrocities of your nightmare, all of the chasing and adrenaline. The monsters you would see around every corner, or maybe your lost loved ones. He would acknowledge you every so often with a short "Hm," or "I'm sorry" to let you know he was still listening. Or at least to keep you under the impression that he was. He truly did care about you and your wellbeing, its just in all honesty you were perfectly fine. Your voice sounded so perfect to his ears, and the subtle whines and borderline moans you would serve him as you described your nightmare had him in a shameful position. One you had yet to pick up on, and this was annoying him. He decided he was going to test the waters. "Nggh-" Silence. "Are.. are you okay? You sound hurt." There was a level of surprise and concern in your voice, still trying to interpret the noise that just left his mouth. "I'm fine, don't worry about me darling. Just keep running your pretty mouth." You had no reason to question him or his honesty, so you continued. Your story of your nightmare turned into more stories of previous nightmares, some even worse than the one you had experienced tonight. But you trusted him with all this information, and it felt good to finally get it off your chest. Eventually, the recollection of all these horrible visions brought tears to the corners of your eyes. Your voice began to quiver as the tears fell down your face and rolled onto your plush comforter, leaving tiny damp spots. Not even 30 seconds into your crying session, and you heard a loud moan from his end, along with an undeniable squelching noise. This left you speechless, before you said "Are you?..." His breath hitched once more "Fuck princess, so you finally caught on. So sorry... You have no idea how crazy you make me. When you called me whining 'n moaning I just couldn't help myself." You felt your heart skip about two beats at his words, your face heating up and painting your cheeks a rosy pink. He would probably tease you if he could see you. "I- I had no idea you, um, that of me like.. that." You heard a sarcastic sounding laugh before he spoke again "You're telling me you had no idea? Come on princess, I know you aren't that stupid. Plus, I know you feel it too." His voice was still coated with the same huskiness as he spoke. "Bill, I have no idea what you're talking about. You aren't making any sense!" You whisper yelled. "Really? Don't play dumb with me. You don't think I see the way you look at me? The way you clench your thighs every time I so much as brush your arm? The way you stutter any time I compliment you? You can't do all that and leave me hangin', princess." You took a moment to think before noticing how hard your thighs were pressed together, and how your core was aching. Aching for him. You never wanted to acknowledge this part of yourself, the part that wanted him so badly. But as he's on the other end of the phone fisting his cock to the mere sound of your voice, you come to the conclusion that you're passed the point of return.

So, with shame you let out a strained whisper "Please," and you hear him groan on the other side of the line. You can tell he's been waiting for this. "Please what, princess? Use your words, I know you can." Your ears pick up some subtle sqeulching sounds again, so you swallow your pride and try your best to stabilize your voice "Please help me cum, I need you. Need you so bad." This apparently satisfies him. "That's my girl. Why don't you take off those pretty panties for me? I know you're wearing those pretty pink ones that you wear so much. Just for me, huh?" You choose to ignore the implications of his words, too focused on the increasing noises he's making and the fire in the pit of your stomach. Doing as your told you remove your pink panties and throw them onto the floor, bunching up the buttery silk of your nightgown to give you better access to your soaking cunt. "Now what?" you groan, feeling your neediness increase. "Mm, Fuck. Bet you're so wet. I bet you can already take two fingers. Do that for me. Fuck your fingers, I know you can." You whine at his words, feeling your arousal pool onto your comforter. But you do as your told, trailing your cool fingers down your abdomen and towards your aching pussy. "Nuh-uh, pretty girl. Need you to put the phone next to your sweet cunt. Need to hear the way your fingers go in 'n out." Your face heats up with embarrassment at his words, but you comply as your move the phone to rest in between your thighs. You continue your previous minstrations, using two fingers to prod at your wet hole. You swirl your fingers, gathering your juices before plunging your fingers into your pussy. "Ha-!" You let out a high-pitched moan as your fingers travel deeper and deeper, slowly alleviating the aching in your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Just like that, princess." You hear Bill moan, followed by increased noises of him sliding his hand up and down his impressive length. The fact that he was getting off to just the noises you made egged you on even further, using your fingers to try and navigate towards your g-spot. "Say my- shit- name, baby." Not wanting to dissapoint, you loudly mewl "Bill!" as your fingers find there way to your sweet spot, repeatedly brushing up against it. Bills moans gain in ther frequency and pitch, which you find hot. "Are you close? I bet you are. Come with me, princess." His words make you loudly moan, your second hand coming down to rub fast circles on your clit. You hear Bill let out a final grunt as he comes, "Oh fuck, Y/n!" Him moaning your name as he orgasms has your back arching off your bed, your fingers pinching at your clit. You fuck yourself onto your fingers hitting your g-spot, and your abdomen tensing before your juices spray onto your bedsheets. You're left a twitching mess as you chant his name like it's the only word you've ever been taught. You pull your hand away from your clit and your fingers out of your pussy, allowing your back to find a resting place on your bed again.

"You did so well for me, princess. Now that you're all nice and wet for me, why don't you come over and see how well you can take my cock?"

a/n: i hope u enjoyed! i haven't wrote in a couple months, so i might be a little rusty. if you have any ideas or prompts, feel free to send in a request! :)

[shirefantasies]

Hiii!!! I love your works so so much, you're truly amazing!! I would like to make a request if that's fine with you. I would like to request Thorin's company with a reader that is afraid of heights. You don't have to do it if you don't want to, it was just a stupid idea that crossed my mind. If you do decide to do it, take as much time as you want and thank you so so much!! Again love your works, your way of writing and the way you portray the characters!!

Thanks pal 🥰 for your kind words and for being one of the longest-standing members of this blog's taglist! It's funny because someone else sent this in for LoTR a while back so it is not at all stupid, quite a common ask~

Warnings: canon typical peril, suggestive jokes in one

Thorin's Company + Your Fear of Heights

Balin

“Look at the river,” Balin encourages, taking your arm, “a fair chance we are not to see it like this again, after all!” You hesitantly hum at his side, and that is when he looks over to see your tightly shut eyes and stiff posture, your hands firm and flat against the great eagle’s soft, downy feathers. “We’re safe now,” he tells you quietly, scooting into your side. The warmth of his coat brings some comfort, but not enough for you to open your eyes, even if they shine red beneath your crushing lids. “This does not feel safe,” you reply, your voice barely exceeding a whisper. Balin does not fight, does not argue, presumably continues enjoying whatever view you did not doubt was beautiful. You simply cannot appreciate it. “I understand,” he replies, running a soothing hand up and down your back, “and I’m here. I’ll hold you down.”

Dwalin

“I bet you’ve never been afraid a day in your life.” Those were the words that set the conversation- or challenge, more like- flying between you and Dwalin, both of you huddled near the smoldering remains of your earlier fire on watch of camp. Hazes of fatigue descended upon both of your heads as you spoke, your musing bringing quite a surprise to Dwalin, who immediately sat up straighter and fixed you with surprise. “Are you mocking me?” “No,” you shrugged, shaking your head, “I simply could not imagine what that would be. It is quite difficult to picture you afraid.” It was your turn to be surprised as Dwalin’s expression softened far beyond what you were used to. “Even the greatest of warriors have them. I, then, am far from an exception.” “What is it, then?” “Pardon.” “Your fear,” you lit up, “is it the ocean? Dogs? Speaking to a crowd?” “Why are you selecting such ridiculous-” “You’re dodging,” you teased, “Thought you might be embarrassed.” “I’m not,” he crossed his arms, “Tell me yours and I shall share mine.” “Fine,” you replied with a shrug, “I am terrified of heights. Fell off a roof as a little one. …long story.” “That… makes a lot of sense.” “Hey, now what is that supposed to mean?”

Thorin

In all honesty, you’d expected the king to have no patience for such matters. You had avoided mentioning your phobia to any of the company for that exact reason, in fact. No more reason given for Thorin to see you as a liability, an outsider. At least until the booms of thunder, the slick of rain and your cold sweat alike as you slid along cliffs, eyes closed and then squeezed so shut your skin warmed and almost burned. Great stone giants you stood upon, legs rising and sending you swinging out wildly, unable to stifle your scream. As the giant slowed, having been struck by a massive rock, you were righted again, and feeling a hand tighten about your shoulder you turned around, expecting to see fatherly Gloin or Balin and instead almost starting at the sight of Thorin there behind you. “I can tell you fear the precipice. Stay here and no harm will come to you.” Your lips parted wordlessly, unable to form a sound beneath the thrum of blood in your ears, the heat creeping to your face, the echo of shattering stone still reverberating through your whole body. As if he heard you regardless, Thorin added, “I promise.”

Oin

“You’re sweating. Do you have a fever?” “No, Oin, I’m fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “Are you certain? For I’ve got quite the concoction- two in fact! One you put on and one you put in. Yourself, that is. You drink it, you see.” “I gathered.” You mustered a smile, but it was halfhearted and, judging by Oin’s expression, obviously so. “No need to be proud. Come on. I’m the one who can help you. And trust me, I’ve seen it all!” Oin was right. A fear of heights was far less embarrassing than all the accidents you imagined dwarves got into. Bofur alone had plenty such stories. “To be honest, it simply is this climb,” you nodded to the foot of the mountain, the great steps you’d heard so much about- and stars, they were nothing like the steps in your old home! “Afraid of heights?” You nodded in reply and the healer’s bearded face burst open in sympathy. “Well, that’s more than understandable! Seen plenty of- Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “Well, that is to say you’re not alone. I’ll let you in on a little secret- from what I hear, it took Kili years before he’d even get on a ladder! ‘N he’s a prince! You’ve nothing to worry about. I can give you something to calm you down as we speak, and beside that I can stay by you every step of the way. How’s that?” “That’ll be great,” you smile, “Thank you, Oin.”

Gloin

“What d’you think you’re doing? …Rotation my arse, send someone else if you’d like to avoid discussing this with the business end of my axe!” What was going on? Emerging from the brush, you followed the sound of Gloin’s voice, the volume of which had steadily been increasing, to see him glaring with all intents of intimidation at Dwalin of all people. As much as you knew you should step in and resolve any tension, you couldn’t deny your amusement. Kindling in arm, you shook your head fondly at the scene before you. Ever since he found out you were afraid of heights, rather than mock you as you’d half expected the dwarves to Gloin had made it his personal mission to swoop in and lobby for you whenever the opportunity availed itself. Such as climbing trees for watch. Muttering, Dwalin walked away with a shrug and a roll of his eyes, and you took your own opportunity to set the kindling down and sneak up behind Gloin to pull him into a hug.

Bifur

Snapping jaws narrowly missed the edges of your legs. Wargs ran to the feet of the trees, standing against the trunks and trying in vain to pull you down. They were coming closer than they should have, though, one even catching a dangling strap from your boot and tearing the buckle on it clean off. Jumping at a tap on your shoulder, you swiveled your head and peered up, admittedly a bit relieved to forget you were above ground, even if it was not by much. Bifur had gotten your attention and was urgently circling his hand, encouraging you to go further up to his branch. You shook your head. “I am fi-” SNAP! The moment you attempted to defend yourself was the moment the branch at your side was ripped off, scrabbling claws following its descent. Another tap to your shoulder, this time with the hand groping down to find yours and pry its fingers from their death grip on your branch. “What are you doing?” You hissed, panicking at your loosening grip, but your complaint was quieted when Bifur yanked you up against his chest and held you there fast. He muttered something in Khuzdul and while you weren’t certain what, his tone alone soothed you a bit more, keeping you in place there with your rapid heartbeat against his.

Bofur

“What’s the matter, no foothold? These hills can be a bit slippery, can’t they? Pesky when it’s so far to fall, pesky indeed.” “Bofur,” you breathe, voice wavering as you near tears. The sheer desperation in your voice shakes the hatted dwarf to his senses, his eyes and smile softening and falling as if seeing you for the first time. “Hey now, you’ll be all right. Thorin put you in the middle on purpose. So many hands here to catch you. ‘Sides that, I’m right here next to you, and you know I’ll always protect you, right?” Smiling faintly, you nod, eyes still blurred faintly with the sheen of tears. Strength renewed slightly, your hands dig even tighter into the rough stone and with all your might, you pull up to the next ledge. “See, there you are! Before we know it you’ll be outclimbing us all,” Bofur teases, leaning over and gently bumping your shoulder with his. “Bofur!” You squeal. “Oh, yes, right, sorry! Say, why don’t we just talk about the weather instead?”

Bombur

“I can’t.” “You must,” Bombur insisted, always-gentle voice even quieter than usual. Groaning beneath the weight of your bodies, the great pine you’d been forced to climb bent further. “If we don’t, who knows what’ll happen to us. I’m scared, too.” The shocks running through your heart calmed slightly at the sight of his soft eyes. “Who wouldn’t be scared of jumping off a cliff?” “Fili ‘n Kili, probably.” “You’re right,” you giggled, delaying the inevitable that much further.” “Why don’t we go together. See, just because we’re both ‘fraidy cats, you know?” Bombur sounded so… shy? He truly meant it, not that you doubted his sincerity much- a more sincere dwarf could scarcely be found. “Of course,” you replied, and beaming, he took your hand. “Just close your eyes. Trust the wizard. You’ll be alright if I have anything to say about it.”

Dori

“Is this truly necessary?” “Unfortunately that is the best way to keep things away from bears. Awful creatures trying to spoil our picnic!” “This is no picnic, Dori,” you giggled, “on account of we’re on a perilous journey? If you remember.” “Yes, yes,” he waved the hand that was free of the bundle, “but I will suffer much before I go this whole mess without doing something for you. Now Bilbo was kind enough to lend this food…” “You lot stole it, didn’t you?” Dori pointedly ignored you. “Be a dear and climb up to that branch with the rope,” he requested, pointing up into the tree and sending a wave of apprehension straight through you. “Can I hold it?” You asked, shuffling your feet. “Please?” Dori inhaled. He frowned slightly. His frown softened almost immediately at your slight pout. His shoulders deflated, hand loosening about the bundle. “Very well. You certainly are lucky to be so adorable.”

Nori

“Come on, let’s have a look at the stars, huh?” Something about Nori’s tone, a sort of provocation you hope to be deciphering correctly, has you shying your eyes away from the smooth-talking dwarf, hands behind your back as you nod. “That’s a good’n,” he smiles proudly, grabbing your hand tightly, a bit harshly even as he tugs you outside. Your gaze drifts up, but Nori tilts it back down to face him. “Not out here!” You are puzzled, tilting your head back at him. Rivendell’s garden is the most beautiful you’ve seen, a perfect little gazebo to sit under surrounded by pure white flowers and vines that reach up to the very stars upon which you wish to gaze. “Elrond can’t mind too much if we get a bit closer, after all, can he? Those elves love the stars as much as anything, after all.” You see now that he is motioning up to the roof of the enclave set aside for you all to stay, a conveniently flat expanse granted access to only by a risky-looking trellis. Nori wants to climb that with you. All the blood drains from your face at the very sight, the mental image of your shoes slipping from the hole, tumbling you back into the… “What’s the matter, hm? Scared? Afraid of getting trapped up there with me? I promise I won’t bite…unless you ask me to, of course.” His joke brings you back to your senses, out of the unexpected tenderness and back to your usual joking. “What’s the matter with you?” You shoot back. “Can’t get excited without being imperiled?” Cackling, Nori lets you slide, instead winding an arm about your waist and sweeping an arm, letting you lead him to the gazebo bench. “Got me there.”

Ori

“What’s the matter?” Ori ponders your name so sweetly it almost cuts through your fear. “Isn’t it wonderful?” ‘It’ being the view from, at least in your mind, the most precarious parapet in the whole kingdom of Erebor. “I see even more now why we were fighting for this,” he adds, smile growing and wonder positively glowing in his big brown eyes. In almost hilarious contrast, you struggle to feign a smile, fingers tightening around the wall’s edge like a lifeline. Which it quite literally is. It isn’t that high. You can simply take one step, no, two, and go tumbling off the whole of the mountain- The sound of your name cuts off your dread-laced internal ramblings, shaking you back to Ori, to feeling him take hold of your upper arm. “Are you alright? I can see your face, you look so-” Cutting off his desperation, the way he clearly is searching for a kind way to say it, you just sigh and answer him. “You were so excited to show me, I didn’t have the heart to tell you that, well, I have quite the fear of heights.” Ori’s jaw positively drops as he surges back, taking you away from the railing like it’ll burn you. “I’m so sorry, you never told me! How was I to know? Why, here you’ve been just-” You forget your fear entirely in favor of giggling at Ori’s kind reaction. You should have known better than to fear what he would say! “How about we go to the library instead?” Ori offers, hand still on your arm. “I’d like that,” you answer with a smile.

Fili

“Don’t let him catch me telling you this, but do you realize Kili used to have such a bad fear of heights he wouldn’t even set foot on a ladder?” Fili snickered to you, leaning with his arm along the back of your chair. “And that is supposed to be funny?” You replied, eyes wide and one brow raised. All attempts not to show your true thoughts- would Fili think you a fool? “Of course it was! I couldn’t even persuade him into the attic for all the deal it was,” the elder prince answered with a smile of great amusement. Pulling away from his warm proximity, you wrapped an arm around yourself instead. “And why was he wrong to fear harm? To- to avoid doing something he didn’t even need to do? Have you never felt the creeping of dread, of crushing danger?” Sitting back himself, Fili raised his hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I just thought it was funny the way he’d only put a toe up on it. You feel the same, do you not?” You nodded and he shifted back forward to put a hand on your shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that. I swear I won’t laugh about it again.”

Kili

For so-called ‘steps’, this climb certainly was involving your entire body, all of you company members heaving yourselves over each one and you suppressing a whimper at each slip and grind of your boot against smoothened stone. Why did the dwarves have to build their kingdoms so again? Sliding back, you winced, cringing back even harder when Fili playfully nudged you with his elbow. “Careful you don’t- oops!” He seemed to stumble back and fall, bringing you to cry out his name until he popped back up with a grin and laughter. “Quit that!” Kili stepped back down, making his way in between you two. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?” Nodding, you shied away at the way he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he spoke your name softly, “mean old Fili’s going to apologize, isn’t that right?” “I’m not a child,” you teased, “I just…hate the thought of falling. Of my feet wavering and giving out.” “Understandable,” Fili added, lowering his head, “I promise I won’t actually lay a hand upon you. No more jokes. For once, Kili’s right.” Smiling again, you allowed Kili to guide you up, one hand protectively over the small of your back. “You just wanted to play the hero.” You heard Fili hiss to his brother behind your back, shakily grinning at his words.

Bilbo

“We need to get out of here. Come on.” The hobbit whispers your name urgently, extending and waving his hand at you. How you have managed to avoid losing your mind completely is what you can only imagine to be a testament to your luck. But Bilbo? You had completely lost track of him and now he’s here before you, gripping a tree branch and pleading with those shining grey eyes. This forest has your head spinning, but those eyes are an anchor, something you can focus on for once. Your heart moves, but your body remains in place, blood rushing to your face and slamming chest. “I- I-” What can you say? “Please,” Bilbo adds, “I don’t want to lose you, too. We need air. You must come with me to clear our heads.” Blinking, you look back and forth. Did you need to? Wait, need to what? “Please,” Bilbo begs again, “I’m afraid too. But it won’t be so bad if we’re together, right? I would never let you fall.” The way he begs, says your name so carefully yet so intently, has you nodding and taking his hand, smiling faintly at the warm grip. “Let’s go.”

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Number 13 with JJ please🥹🥹🥹

‘‘Was it a good weird or a bad weird? Because that’s two totally different things.’‘ 

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—

During a drunken evening at the boneyard, you and JJ crossed the friendship lines and now you didn’t know what to do. A part of you wanted to bring it up, but another wished it never happened. Besides JJ’s lips on yours and the sand that fell from your shirt in the morning, you couldn’t recall much from that night.

Sarah’s jaw dropped when you told her and Kiara gasped, not expecting this kind of juicy story this early on a Sunday. ‘’You kissed JJ?!’’

You kept your eyes down and played with the tassel of your decorative pillow. ‘’If my memories are correct, yes.’’ It was your first time saying it out loud and you felt like throwing up. Or, maybe that was your hangover.

‘’How did it happen?’’ Sarah asked with a curious grin, begging for the whole story.

‘’Did he try to woo you with his terrible pick up lines? Or tell you that fake story about how he got the shark tooth?’’

Sarah laughed. ‘’The one he tells all the tourons?’’

Kiara nodded, joining Sarah with the laughing.

If you hadn't been so anxious about the whole situation, you would’ve laughed too. It was known among the group that JJ’s flirting techniques were terrible. You all wondered how girls fell for his shit when it was so obvious that he was lying to get them in his bed.

‘’I don’t know!’’ you said in complete honesty, your memories a complete black hole. A sigh left your lips. ‘’We were drunk and he was there and suddenly— I don’t want that stupid kiss to ruin our friendship. I care a lot about JJ and I can’t lose him over a drunken mistake.’’

The girls’ faces softened, realizing how upset the kiss made you.

‘’Don’t think too much into this, okay? It’s JJ,’’ Kiara reminded while Sarah pulled you in a hug. ‘’He was probably just as drunk.’’

‘’Maybe he doesn't even remember,’’ the blonde added. 

A few days passed and neither you or JJ brought up the drunken kiss. He definitely remembered, though. Every time you were in the same room, his eyes averted yours.

You tried to not let the new distance between you and JJ ruin the whole group dynamic, but something was off and everyone could feel it. You had only told the girls, but John B. seemed to be suspecting something.

‘’I'll go with,’’ JJ suggested, moving to get out of the twinkie, trying to get away from being alone with you.

John B. stopped him. ‘’No need. I have two hands. I don't need another two more to carry beers and a bag of chips. I'll be quick.’’

You both sat in silence in the twinkie, waiting for John B. to return. Silences were never uncomfortable with JJ, but this one was the longest and heaviest silence of your life. Maybe you should have walked to the chateau instead of accepting to be picked up.

‘’Hey, Y/N?’’

Your heart jumped in your chest when you heard JJ’s voice. You composed yourself and turned your head toward him over the front seat.

JJ continued. ‘’You know the other night at the boneyard? We got kinda drunk and...something weird happened with us.’’

‘’You mean when we kissed?’’ you said, purposely using the word he was avoiding. ‘’You can say the word, J, you’re not going to get cursed.’’

‘’I know.’’ He looked down, nervously fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. ‘’It was just weird.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you agreed. ‘’It was weird for me too, but…’’ You shifted seats, sitting behind the driver seat so there was less space between you and JJ. His left arm was resting on the backrest and you played with one of his bracelets. ‘‘Was it a good weird or a bad weird? Because that’s two totally different things.’‘ You flicked your eyes up, hoping to meet JJ’s, but he was still looking down.

‘’No. Not bad weird.’’ His chest heaved as he breathed, his bottom lip caught with his teeth.

You leaned in and he lifted his head, his face — and lips — only a few inches from yours. You wanted to touch him again, and taste his lips again.

You thought this would be it, that he would close the space between you, but JJ's breath hitched as he started to freak out. ‘’What are we doing? We shouldn't be doing this.’’ He turned his head to face the window, away from you. 

‘’Don’t do this. Please.’’ You grabbed his arm, refusing to let the conversation ends. ‘’I know you push people away and freak when people get close, but don’t push something away just because you’re scared. I’m scared too, but life — and love — is living in spite of those things that scare you to death because something beautiful and fucking amazing could come out of it.’’ 

Your words seemed to have gotten through him because he turned again, a veil of fear over his face. Love — whether it be loving someone or being loved — was not a concept JJ was familiar with. He grew up without the love of a parent — a child’s primary source of love —, receiving a shower of hatred and occasional kicks and punches instead. You couldn't blame him for pushing people away and being scared of feelings. It's new to him, and everyone gets scared when they have to deal with something new and foreign.

 Fortunately for him, you were there to show and teach him a side of life he never got to experience.

You leaned over the seat, about to connect your lips with JJ’s, but John B. opened the door, snapping you and JJ out of your moment.

‘’I couldn't find the brand of chips you liked, so I picked something else—’’ He glanced between you and JJ, noticing how close you were. ‘’Am I interrupting something?’’ 

—

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[heartsofminds]

Blooming (III)

“Scoot over then.”

(Y/N)’s eyes almost explode out of her skull. “You want me to what?”

“Jesus, chick. It was just a suggestion,” he chides, “Getting your panties all in a twist because I won’t sleep but then won’t let me sleep? Kinda counterintuitive, don’t you think?” or Rooster gets caught up from a hospital bracelet and she finally gets that kiss she wanted. 

Warning: Contains curse words and mentions of an age gap. 

A/N: Welcome back to part three of the Blooming series! I’m so incredibly excited to share this with you all. Thank you much for your continued support and patience. Stay tuned for more of the Blooming-verse as part four will be out soon! But for now, enjoy 10.8k words about the story of Rooster Bradshaw facing his relationship fears. 

Blooming, Blooming II

i. 

(Y/N) considers herself to be a private person. 

She’s an extremely private person, actually. But that’s only until someone wants to get information out of her and gives her that look. You know, the pointed one with the raised eyebrows and the slight smirk, the corners of their mouths serving as picks to the lock of all her inner thoughts. 

She swore she could give Ella Enchanted a run for her money by how quickly she would fess up if simply asked for the truth. 

(Y/N) partly blames herself but mostly blames her parents. Growing up in a military household with a greatly admired and high-ranked father meant that honesty and excellence were never not expected from her. And after the dissolution of her parents’ marriage, growing up with her helicopter mother who didn’t believe in keeping secrets put a nail in the coffin for her sub rosa thoughts and actions. 

Her high school friends joked around with her saying that they could never sneak out or drink or do anything outside of the agenda she had told her mother before leaving the house because the minute that someone with authority asked her for the truth, (Y/N)’s mouth was running a mile a minute with the hurried apologies following suit after. She simply couldn’t help it, and her upbringing paired with her innate desire to always do good and always do what was expected of her cemented her truth telling tendencies even farther. 

And so when she comes home in a stormy mood after being out past three AM and slams Penny’s guest bedroom door shut (waking Amelia up in the process who had school in the morning), her god sister knew something was up and was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

Amelia is mischievous and so fucking precocious. She had been raised around adults all her life so how could she not be? 

She didn’t know what the kids table at Thanksgiving looked like or what watching cartoons on a Saturday morning felt like. Hell, (Y/N) doesn’t think Amelia has ever played with a goddamn Barbie doll ever in her life, let alone relished in the thrill of going to a Build-a-Bear Workshop. 

She, much like her twenty-one year old god sister, liked the more “classic” things in life. They liked Raisin Bran and sudoku puzzles. They liked older 80s movies in comparison to their more modern remakes. They liked playing Scrabble and checkers. 

And while (Y/N)’s “refined” taste (which, the more she thought about it, really happened to emulate all that of an eighty year old man who resided in a nursing home) came from her own father and didn’t make an evident appearance until she was an older teenager, Amelia had always been this way. 

Because of that, Amelia was a bit of an odd ball to her peers but (Y/N) loved it. Her parents had split when she was eight and because of her father’s age and her mother’s anxiety towards parenting, they never dared having another kid after (Y/N). So when her Aunt Penny announced that she was having a baby,(Y/N) was more than ecstatic. 

She still remembers damn near exploding from joy when she found out Amelia was going to be a girl. 

Amelia was the closest thing (Y/N) has to a sibling and despite the seven year age gap, they’re so extremely close. It’s unusual; to have someone so much younger than you somehow be on the same page all the time but with (Y/N) and Amelia, there are no questions or genuine thinking required to read each other’s minds. 

They just knew how to. 

And despite how much (Y/N) adores Amelia or how much Amelia looks up to (Y/N), they irritate each other like no other. Getting under each other’s skin is each of their favorite pastimes and in true sister fashion, they go from ruthless screaming matches to braiding each other’s hair while sharing funny stories about their day. 

When the fighting gets really bad, (Y/N) usually drives to the closest Dunkin Donuts and buys Amelia her usual; wordlessly leaving it outside of her bedroom door. Amelia usually slips a note under (Y/N)’s door with a “One free ‘Yell at me’ coupon,” which makes (Y/N) laugh and embrace her in a huge hug stating, “I only yell with love,” which makes both of them bust out laughing at how ridiculous they both are. 

Even though Amelia is rather mature for a fourteen year old and her and (Y/N) basically share the same brain cells (even though they both joke about letting the other have ownership over them the day of a huge exam), she’s still a kid. And boy, does Amelia do all the shit that kid sisters tend to do. 

She doesn’t mean to be, but Amelia is fucking nosy. She’s always hated being out of the loop. In her humble opinion (which, okay she does admit that she’s only fourteen and that her credentials in the age category aren’t looking too hot), being the last to know is the deadliest punch in the gut. Being blindsided is the absolute worst, and if she can do anything to prevent it, she will. 

So as she lies in bed at three fifteen in the morning because (Y/N) came home pissed and slammed her door shut, Amelia knew something was up. (Y/N) had big emotions, but not big actions. Someone or something must have had to really piss her off for her to act that way and because she’s so goddamn private, Amelia knows that she won’t spill unless she absolutely has to and she won’t unless she’s made to sweat. 

And that’s what Amelia plans to do. 

The younger girl is spitting her toothpaste in the sink of the bathroom that stands between her bedroom and the guest bedroom when she notices that (Y/N)’s sour mood carries over to that morning. 

The door is closed and there’s no sign of life other than the faint sound of ocean waves in the background that (Y/N) has to put on in order to calm her mind to be able to sleep. It’s a quarter till eight, and (Y/N) being in bed still is extremely odd.

Amelia knows that (Y/N) is usually up and awake by now; having done her morning run or sunrise yoga or whatever the hell she usually does before Amelia gets ready to leave for school. She’s usually sitting on the porch with her mom by now, those ceramic mugs that have some cringey ass quip printed on them and sipping raspberry tea while they gab about life and college and boys. 

But she isn’t, and Amelia almost convinces herself it’s a good idea to knock and see if her god sister is awake before she chickens out. Her thoughts are interrupted by (Y/N) swinging the door open harshly. 

Her hair is thrown up messily and the dark circles under her eyes say that the ocean wave white noise she had on did little to assist her into slumber. The collar of the gray USD Law sweatshirt she has on sat crooked on her shoulder and her sleeping shorts are twisted. Another noticeable sign that it was a more than rough night is shown through the one sock on (Y/N)’s foot and the other being bare. 

She rubs at her face with her sweatshirt sleeve and shoots daggers at Amelia with her eyes; as if she was saying “I dare you to fucking speak to me right now” to her god sister. (Y/N) brushes by without as much of a wave or a “Good morning.”

So yeah, she’s fucking pissed and cranky. 

And Amelia is clever but sometimes her curiosity goes against her own best interest. Was it smart to follow (Y/N) to the kitchen when she had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Absolutely not, but Amelia always claimed that smart was something that she is occasionally, and not something that she is all the time. 

Also, she just had to get to the bottom of this. 

The honey-blonde teenager holds her breath as she waltzes into the kitchen, finding (Y/N) aggressively shaking the bag of Special K cereal into a ceramic bowl. Amelia goes to the fridge and gets out the almond milk. She shakes it and puts it next to (Y/N) who mumbles out a weak, “Thanks.” before filling her bowl and stabbing at her cereal with her spoon. 

Amelia leans on the counter, eyes lasered in on the back of the older girl’s head. She was gonna get her to talk and the only way to do so is to corner her. But right now her god sister’s rage emulates that of a rabid raccoon and she’s animal control with no equipment. 

She knows she’ll get her head bit off, but the void she has in her life that’s absent of her own drama desperately needs to be filled and she’ll be damned before she’s left out of anything going on with the people living in her own house. 

“Are you gonna fucking speak, Meals? Or are you just gonna stare laser beams in the back of my fucking skull like a dumbass?” (Y/N) grumbles and she knows that what she said is mean and uncalled for, but she’s just really not in the mood for her kid sister’s shenanigans today. 

Bradley Bradshaw really pissed her off last night and the feelings she feels are burning her up from the inside out. (Y/N)’s hurt, embarrassed, even because who the fuck does that? Who flirts and flirts and flirts and then unloads all their childhood stories before almost kissing her goodnight and then dipping out because she’s “too young”? 

“Too young” her ass. She’s a woman, for Christ’s sake. A smart, likable, kind (okay, well maybe not right now with how she just answered Amelia, but usually she is) young woman who is going to law school and is a college graduate. 

She’s not too young. Amelia is too young; especially to be butting her nose into (Y/N)’s business the way she is. 

(Y/N) knows that Amelia is just dying to ask her what’s wrong; hopeful to get a taste of whatever drama is brewing in the older girl’s life. She can see it now - the slightly upturned eyebrows and the small open mouthed gasp that Amelia does when she’e intently listening. She also folds her hands together in front of her and hangs on to every word that’s being said because Amelia ponders long and hard over what she hears and psychoanalyzes everything about it. 

(Y/N) would say that she hates that about Amelia but can never find herself to because she knows that she’s the same exact way. Her god sister’s nosy tendencies are simply learned behavior. 

So as she stabs at her cereal and almost grinds her teeth as she chews because of how angry she is, she tries to find it within herself to withhold taking out her anger on Amelia. She almost throws her a bone and lets her in on what had happened, but realized that she’d have to omit so many details that Amelia would never be satisfied and would keep picking and picking and picking until she finally broke and (Y/N)’s just not ready for that. She’s not letting her fourteen year old god sister know how embarrassed she is. She’s not letting her know how little sleep she got over the entire situation or how irritated and disrespected she feels.

“Wow. Aren’t you a goddamn ray of sunshine this morning,” Amelia snarls back, already having enough of (Y/N)’s piss poor attitude. (Y/N) may be pissed, but she’s not the one who got woken up at three in the morning because of some hissy fitted rage party. . 

(Y/N) drops the cereal off of her spoon back into the abyss of milk. She sets her utensil down before turning her head to the side, adjusting her vision so she can see Amelia a little bit better. 

“Language. You know how your mom and I feel about you cussing,” is all she can manage to say and seriously, when did Amelia get so sassy? 

Amelia rolls her eyes. She may be younger than (Y/N), but she’s certainly not a child. She’s always been told she’s mature for her age, so why is her god sister acting like the seven year age gap is a big deal now? And besides, she already has a mom and a dad. 

She doesn’t need (Y/N) trying to fill in for what’s missing.

“So it’s okay for you to say an entire dictionary of cuss words but the second I say some “is it or not” cuss word you’re lecturing me?” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. She’s totally, absolutely, positively not in the mood today. “If you’re trying to be nosy and play Nancy Drew or whatever you’re doing, please don’t try it,” she snaps, “M’not putting up with your bullshit today, Meals. Go find something else to do.”  

Amelia raises her eyebrows. “Seriously?” she quips, “You wanna be like that with me when I’m not the one who pissed you off?” 

(Y/N) groans because great; not only is she pissed, but now her appetite is ruined. “You’re pissing me off right now because you won’t butt out. Leave me the fuck alone.” She slides the stool away from the bar top counter and puts her bowl in the sink. 

She’ll just come back and clean it later. She just seriously needs to get away from Amelia right now because she’ll explode if she’s around her pestering god sister for any longer. 

“And you’re pissing me off because someone obviously peed in your Cheerios and you’re making it everyone else’s problem.” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes again and starts to stalk back up the stairs. She knows that she’s being childish and she can’t believe that she’s about to argue with a fucking middle schooler, but she’s standing her ground. The last thing she needs is Amelia teasing her relentlessly about Bradley Bradshaw and how he basically curved the fuck out of her the night prior. 

Amelia follows her. (Y/N)’s not getting away from her without any answers just yet; especially taking into account that she really just wants to know what’s wrong with (Y/N) and how she can help. She may be nosy, but she also has a conscience.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” (Y/N) damn near growls. God, why did Amelia have to be so damn stubborn? “I’m obviously mad and you’re not making my day any better!” 

“Can’t you just not get all pissy and aggravated and slam doors at fucking-” (Y/N) shoots her a death glare before Amelia corrects herself. 

The cussing, right.

“Freaking. I meant freaking. You can’t just be all mad and slam doors at freaking three AM when I have school and you know I was asleep,” Amelia continues, “That’s just crappy, (Y/N), and I would never do that to you.” 

(Y/N) stands at the top of the stairs and angrily huffs. Amelia has a point and a pretty fair one at that but she’d rather die than back down now. That’s (Y/N)’s problem in a nutshell; she’s too goddamn hardheaded but also strives on being a people pleaser and if you asked her (or anyone on the street, really) that would be considered a combination for disaster. 

“And I would never put my nose in business that’s clearly yours. Fuck off, Meals.” 

(Y/N) stomps back to her bedroom and slams the door even harder than she had the night previously. She’s so enraged and she feels so stupid. She’s never been this embarrassed over a boy since she was a freshman in high school and she knows she’s being childish and she knows that what she said to Amelia isn’t fair or kind in the slightest, but she can’t help but fall back into that “being mad at the world” teenage narrative she had thought she left behind. 

Hell, she’s only not been a teenager for two years but the amount of growth that she’s done since then has just drastically taken a decline. She feels like she’s sixteen again and fighting with her mother about a stupid boy who convinced her to sneak out or break her curfew or lie about where she was going or whatever melodramatic teenage drama bullshit that seems like a big deal at the time but ceases to pose a real threat the minute you move out of your parents’ home. 

Amelia groans in frustration before turning on her heel. She’s not sure if her irritation is because of her lack of sleep or because (Y/N) is being, for lack of better term, a total bitch right now. The teenager slings her backpack over her shoulder, and stomps obnoxiously to her front door. 

(Y/N) lays on her stomach and puts back on the ocean wave sounds she had turned on late last night and her stomach drops when she realizes that that was the background noise to the memory that had Bradley Bradshaw cupping her face and telling her that she’s too young. 

ii. 

Jake Seresin had really done it this time. 

It wasn’t a secret that him and Bradley weren’t the greatest of friends. 

Well, actually, scratch that. 

Rooster and Hangman weren’t friends at all and that fact was made so obviously apparent to anyone who found themselves in the same room with the two pilots for longer than fifteen seconds. 

The constant banter and low blows, the “joking” that wasn’t really a joke, the more than aggressively sarcastic handshakes and back pats; it was a limbo contest of who could go the lowest without one of them jumping up and trying to beat the brakes off the other. 

It’s stupid, they know, but what else is expected when you’ve been told you were great all your life? Competition obviously rises and “survival of the fittest” starts to kick in and the sooner you can push someone out, the sooner you can be pushed into the vacancy that person had left. 

Jake is charismatic and can get anyone to do his bidding if he so much as put his hand on their shoulder and stared deep into their eyes. He has a talent for getting anyone to follow him, but he’s selfish and extremely reckless. Jumping off the bridge is certainly his idea until his loyal followers do so, and then he bails after realizing how stupid the idea was in the first place. He’s a leader who never asks for a crowd, and that’s evident once he leaves them hanging. 

Hence, the call sign, Hangman, but that doesn’t take a genius to decipher.

And call Bradley old school but that’s definitely not how military men should be and it drives him absolutely insane. 

Bradley is more calm and is the literal epitome of a dad, but a good one. He listens intently and gives everyone his full attention. He’s stubborn but adaptable. He takes his time and plays it safe always, even when he knows that he should take a risk every now and then. He’s always looking out for other people and is constantly sacrificing his happiness and successes for the well-being of others. 

Bradley is a skilled pilot; the patience and meticulous practice made him so whereas Jake was good because he was a natural (by some freakish fluke of nature). The difference between the two is their confidence and Bradley can’t wrap his head around how Jake gets a thrill from putting himself and his team in constant danger, and Jake can’t understand why Bradley acts as if he’ll spontaneously combust every time his F-18 goes up in the air. 

Bradley has a tendency to parent everyone else and he never means to, and it always just sort of happens, but being told what to do (which makes joining the Navy an odd career path for him) is one of Jake’s biggest pet peeves. It’s just annoying, Hangman thinks, how Rooster corrals everyone and is constantly playing dad. 

Jake already has a father; he doesn’t need a guy who’s only four years older than him trying to parent him. 

Their rivalry started as just friction. They have vastly different personalities and it’s not like any of that isn’t okay. It wasn’t like either of them had to be best friends after graduation. But then Jake realized that “Holy fuck,” Rooster was good and then Rooster realized that “Holy shit,” Jake was good.

And the innate, primal need to succeed, to prove who was better and who would come out on top, just started one day and it never stopped. It was a conscious effort at first, but then it spiraled into a muscle memory-like performance. 

They competed over everything. They competed over who could get their flight gear on the fastest. They competed on who could lift heavier and for longer durations of time. They even fucking competed to see who could complete a crossword puzzle fastest.  

Jake and Bradley know that they’re ridiculous and that the dick measuring contests that they always seemed to be having were quite childish for grown men. They shouldn’t be fighting like rowdy first graders at recess after eating a lunch packed full of sugar, but they can’t help it and they would rather die than lose and let the other having bragging rights.

But then somewhere along the road the competition changed into an uncontrollable beast; a means to be watching each other constantly to see what could make the other tick and thus a new game was created: Who could make who lose their composure first? 

To be totally fair, Bradley started the war by moving Jake’s things one day after a training session. He hadn’t meant to move the items in a way that would’ve set the pilot off, but he did and then Jake came barreling in and freaking the fuck out because his water bottle and shirt were placed in a different stall than he had originally put them. The thought to fess up and apologize definitely crossed Bradley’s mind, but he withheld. 

He liked seeing Jake frantic and upset. He liked knowing that he could toy with him and that he could make the blond sweat if he truly wanted. Bradley was raised better than that, he had known, and he’s sure his mother and father were looking down on him with some disappointment about being so mean, but fuck it. 

Jake Seresin was like a canker sore when you’re eating salt and vinegar chips; annoying and downright painful to be around. 

Over the years and time spent freakishly observing each other, they had learned quite a bit. Bradley hated the sound of teeth scraping against utensils and Jake made sure to find a seat near Bradley but never next to him, and would bite the hell out of his fork whenever he ate his dinner. Jake loathed the sound of styrofoam rubbing together, so whenever Bradley would get handed a styrofoam to go box, he always made sure to be around Jake before opening and closing the box repeatedly. Jake knew he was doing it on purpose but couldn’t help but wonder how the hell someone could find the willpower to open and shut a fucking takeaway box over and over and over again. 

And yes it was annoying and yes it garnered many eye rolls from their friends, but it was entertaining and always kept the pair busy. If anything, it was like a big brother, little brother relationship; irritating the hell out of each other but never going too far. 

Except this wasn’t a big brother, little brother relationship and that they were both, in fact, fighting to be the big brother because big brothers always have more respect.

And they usually never went too far until one day, Jake just did. 

He was raised by a more than conservative Baptist pastor in Texas, and Jake knew that his parents would have a cow if they ever pieced together that he was having premarital sex; let alone, premarital sex that was with someone else’s girlfriend. He was raised better and he knew it, but he was also raised in a family full of sisters and if there’s one thing he learned from having five older ones, everything was an eye-for-an-eye. 

So when Bradley off-handedly joked about fucking Jake’s ex-girlfriend one day, he couldn’t help but let the comment grind his gears until his gears started turning on the perfect way to get back at the brunette pilot. 

While what Bradley said was a joke and was exactly just that, Jake was plotting, and he wasn’t joking in the slightest. So the true hatred and resentment started when a leggy red-head (That amazed Jake with how flexible she was because goddamn, girls can bend like that?) was scratching at his back and calling him “daddy” in a supply closet, and he can truly say that that exact moment was when he knew that there were no limits to the competition he and Bradley Bradshaw had. 

“An eye for an eye” it was, and “an eye for an eye” it would always be. 

So when he notices the tension between Captain Mitchell and Rooster, Hangman can’t help but find him studying the two. He notices the golfball like bulge that emerges from Rooster’s jaw whenever he has to speak to Maverick. He notices how Maverick’s eyes nervously dart across Rooster’s face; as if he’s searching for answers in the younger man’s features without having to ask him questions. 

Jake is always looking and always scheming; even going as far to ask Phoenix if she thinks Bradley is acting weird to which she rolls her eyes and says, “If this is you trying to get under his skin, please leave me out of it. Had enough of you two dumbasses in flight school. I don’t need this shit now.” And then she slammed her locker shut before slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and leaving the base for the day. 

But little to her knowledge did she know that her answer gave Jake all the information he needed. Phoenix had a protective streak to her, but she never stuck up for someone unless she felt they couldn’t do it themselves. So with the aggravated body language coming from Rooster and Maverick’s interactions in the past two days they had been training and Natasha’s head biting whenever he asked her a simple question, Jake Seresin had an sparkle in his eye and his smirk saying that he was up to no good. 

He snoops around the headquarters for more evidence to further solidify his suspicion and what he finds truly falls upon him like a lucky accident. 

It manifests itself as a labeled picture on the wall with Maverick Mitchell and Goose Bradshaw, arms slung across the back of each other’s necks along with Admiral Kazansky and various other pilots whom he’d encountered from his time floating from base to base; the Top Gun class of 1986. 

And holy fucking shit, did Seresin have some ammunition for Bradshaw. 

He likes to play dumb; like all he happens to be is a pretty face with a hot body but no one is that dense to not give Hangman credit for being intelligent. So he waits to unleash his findings until he knows Rooster is at one of his most vulnerable moments. 

He waits and waits and waits and then he strikes, which sends the entire fleet of pilots into a fit of gasps and has Bradley beet red and ready to wring his neck. 

Jake Seresin wasn’t afraid of many things, but the absolute anger and rage encapsulated in Bradley Bradshaw’s face was a look he had never seen before; even when he had been caught fucking that red head all those moons ago. This was different and he swears Bradley’s eyes are completely black with fury and his body emitting so much heat that Jake feels like he’s on fire himself the minute the other pilot has him by his collar. 

The knife was already plunged and it was too late to back out now; no matter how truly terrified he was of Bradley in that moment. He knows he should quit, but a job half done isn’t a job well done. 

And in true asshole-ish Hangman fashion, he has to be calm and collected and to twist the knife even more he adds a, “You know he’s not cut out for this mission,” which makes Bradley completely seethe and molt into one with his anger. 

Jake softly grins to himself as soon as the altercation is broken up and Maverick announces that they’re done for the day. He knows that he won and Bradley lost. 

Bradley can feel it too and he’s so inexplicably pissed, but nothing makes him feel more angered than the deceased father he never had the pleasure of getting to know and the stand-in, who let him down and let an entire fifteen years pass with Bradley thinking he didn’t believe in him. 

iii. 

(Y/N) likes to tell herself that she doesn’t hold grudges; that she’s understanding and empathetic and “noble.” 

Her entire life was wrapped up in achieving the nirvana of selflessness and she doesn’t know if it’s because she was raised by such charitable and giving people or if she was born with some freakish gene that always made herself put her well-being last no matter what. 

She was the kindergartener who would cry in solidarity whenever a kid scraped their knee on the playground. She was the third-grader who donated all her birthday presents to kids whose families were in need. She was the middle schooler who still invited everyone in the class to her birthday parties (even if they were weird or cruel or just downright annoying, but she could never find herself rejecting anyone). She was the high schooler who offered everyone rides home after soccer practice despite her mother yelling at her for “wasting” her gas. 

She was the girl who was always said to be kind and helpful with a sweet heart and bright eyes. 

But here she is on a Tuesday night at 11 PM about to crush a shot glass in her bare hand because of some stupid comment some pilot said about her age. If she could punch Bradley Bradshaw square in the face and break his stupid aviator sunglasses (and maybe his nose too, but then she figures that that’s too much harm to wish on someone), she would with no hesitation.

The main problem she’s finding with directing her anger is that Bradley wasn’t rude about it. What he said about her being too young wasn’t some idiotic flirtatious remark that came off creepy. It wasn’t an insult. It wasn’t even a true comment, and from the way he said it, it almost seemed like it was a thought he had had that was never supposed to grace her ears; as if he was thinking hard and his thoughts were too loud for his liking. 

There are better things to be upset about and she knows this, but she still can’t help but feel the hot anger in her chest. It’s the same kind of anger that flourishes when you’re just on the cusp of getting what you want and it’s pulled away from you; taunting you as the picture of it grows blurrier and blurrier and you’re left screaming because you’re so damn frustrated; because you were so fucking close. 

And yeah, (Y/N) does admit she’s being dramatic, but she can’t remember ever wanting someone’s attention so badly before. The last boy who she found enticing cheated on her after two and a half years together, and that was during the summer of her Junior year of college. Nevertheless, the disrespect still hurts her feelings if she thinks about it too hard and the lack of sex she’s had since then was almost insulting. 

So sue her if she was hoping Bradley could provide her with a few orgasms and some cuddles. He also wasn’t a bad storyteller and despite her anger, she wasn’t blind. He was hot as hell, too. 

But she just can’t get over the way he held her cheek that night. The way that his hazel eyes found her’s; searching for a reason to say what he said. She can still feel the gentle squeeze of his palm on her face. Her ex-boyfriend had tried to make that their “thing” when they had first started dating and it always made her uncomfortable. 

He was too rough, too unthoughtful, and ultimately too unfaithful. She thinks her feeling borderline disgusted by her ex cupping her cheek was a foreshadowing of him cheating on her. It was ironic how he was holding her face with that same hand and then smushing the face of another girl into a pillow soon after. 

But Bradley was different. 

His actions were slow and thoughtful. He was gentle, almost like a child holding his mother’s good China and not wanting to drop it. Bradley was cautious and sweet and that was something that (Y/N) had never truly experienced with a man; no matter how interested or in love with her she thought he was. 

She was dying for him to kiss her and dead she is because he didn’t. 

“You’re too young.” 

It echoes in her head and she finds her face growing hotter and her knuckles getting more white the harder she squeezed the shot glass she had in her hand. Her age and Bradley’s disdain for it rings in her ears as if it's a fact and it is one, which is the shittiest part about it all. 

“You’re too young,” patronizes her mind as if she wasn’t successful and brilliant and mature. 

“You’re too young,” taunts her and embarrasses her, as if she’s ten years old again and being banished to the kids’ table at Thanksgiving. 

“You’re too young,” screams at her as if her lack of experience and lack of opening herself up to the world is the reasoning behind why things never seemed to ever work out for her. 

And the pressure of the thoughts her mind is bogging her brain down with starts to shut off her oxygen. She can’t see the empty bar. She can’t feel the shot glass in her hand. She can’t even feel her heart beating. 

Her knuckles are white from trying to hold on for some explanation, some reason, why she can’t seem to shake this statement and there’s no other thoughts floating around in her brain that allow her to dislodge it. 

“Fuck you, Bradley Bradshaw,” she thinks. 

And she squeezes her hands together so tight that she’s snapped out of her hateful thoughts when she feels a shooting pain in her left hand and oh fuck. 

The scarlet flowing from her palm sends her into a panic and her face turns white. 

Holy shit, there’s no way this is happening. 

There’s no way this is happening at 11:15 PM on a Tuesday night while she’s closing at the Hard Deck with no one else around. 

“Penny is gonna fucking skin me alive,” she thinks, the blood dripping down her baby blue tube top-covered torso the closer she pushes her wound to her chest. The fabric is stained purple from how quickly her blood is absorbing into it. 

Napkins, she needs napkins. 

And she frantically scans the bar for a table that has a dispenser on it, knowing that Penny doesn’t keep any at the bar top. Her eyes look around almost comically before landing on the man of the goddamn hour: Bradley fuckface Bradshaw who has his eyes wide and his mouth gaped open. 

“Holy shit! What did you do?” 

iv.

Bradley knows he should stop coming to the Hard Deck when they close, but he needs to see Penny. 

He figures showing up unannounced at her house isn’t the best way to go; especially considering he hadn’t been there in close to fifteen years. It doesn’t matter if he sends her a Mother’s Day card each year or knows that she would never turn him away. Something about it doesn’t sit right with his soul. 

He tends to not do a lot of things if it doesn’t settle right in his stomach. 

He’s usually calm. He’s usually collected. He usually has it all together but ever since he received orders to come back to Miramar, he’s been losing it. The bags underneath his eyes are prominent and he’s been averaging a total of four hours and twenty-two minutes of sleep each night (per the Sleep Cycle app on his phone which he knows isn’t very accurate but he can certainly feel the exhaustion so he’ll let it slide). 

Bradley was really set off today with Jake and Maverick and the lack of sleep he’s been experiencing. He needed guidance. Truthfully, he needed his mother and he would have rather died than admit that when she was still alive and he was a prideful eighteen-year-old, but here he is now at thirty-five with an ache in his chest and a hole he’s not quite figured out how to fill. 

Penny Benjamin, his old babysitter, is the closest thing he had to a mother now and he just has to find her. 

So Bradley barrels into the Hard Deck and slams the door open on his quest to find Penny and figure out why the fuck he’s feeling this way. 

The jukebox has been turned off and all the stools are stacked on the tables. The Hard Deck is a sorry excuse for a hangout spot at this hour and the smell of draft beer and scotch that usually soaked the atmosphere was gone; dried up like water spilled on the sidewalk on a hot day. 

Bradley wrinkles his nose, using his curved pointer finger to roughly rub the end of it; a nervous tick he developed when he was a kid. 

He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous to see Penny. She was comforting and sweet; the best kind of woman and someone who Bradley could say he trusted with his entire life. He used to say the same about his Uncle Maverick, but like they say, things change. 

And things change indeed when he bursts through the doors and sees Penny nowhere in sight. 

Well, fuck. (Y/N) is Penny’s replacement, he guesses. 

The avalanche of actions tumbles down on him the minute he sees her; baby blue tube top sitting perfectly pretty on her body and her shoulders slightly shiny from either sweat or leftover tanning oil she may have put on earlier in the day. The sight makes Bradley’s mouth water with want and dry with embarrassment, simultaneously. His eyes drink in the sight of her face and his palms can feel the ghost of her cheek he held the night before. 

(Y/N) has a frown on her face and is dissociating. The shot glass in her hand and the purple rag she has in the other serve as simple distractions for her hands. Bradley takes in how she doesn’t look up at him and how white her knuckles are - almost like she’s holding onto dear life to keep her from spazzing out. 

And then it clicks that she’s probably angry with him and Bradley, despite his better judgment, decides that he needs to do some damage control. 

He’s such a fuck up, he thinks, and he can’t afford to fuck someone else up in the process too.

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly, cautiously approaching the bar top; eyes swimming in her appearance to see if she was okay. 

She doesn’t meet his gaze. She just stares ahead, her fingers gripping the glass in her hand so hard that her arms are shaking. 

“Hey! Are you okay?” Bradley asks again, footsteps approaching her cautiously. 

A small pop, a sound that could be made by someone stepping on some small fragments of glass with their boots on, can be heard and Bradley is just astonished. The crimson falling from her hand gives proof of what she had just done; her eyes widening comically and her face looking solemn like a child who had just been caught stealing cookies from the jar. 

Her face is drained of color and Bradley figures it still hasn’t clicked that he’s in front of her. She clutches her hand to her chest and the fabric of her shirt is covered in blood. Bradley’s never done well with blood and other things like that; almost threw up all over himself whenever he would skin his knees when he was little. 

But his instincts kick in and he lives up to his call sign: Rooster. He’s about to corral her and protect her the best he can. He has to. 

“Holy shit! What did you do?” he yells, rushing towards her. 

She looks at him wide-eyed and no words can rush out of her gaping mouth. She looks fearful and shocked. While he suspects her injury isn’t extremely drastic (okay well getting a shot glass crushed in your hand has to hurt like a bitch, he admits), she’s bleeding a lot and she’ll definitely need stitches. 

“I-I don’t know. Fuck, my hand,” she pauses before turning to him again, “Fuck! Penny’s gonna kill me! I got blood all over the bar. Oh my God, she’s gonna skin me!” 

Rooster shrugs off his Hawaiian shirt and pulls the white tank top underneath off by its straps. He needed to get her something to help her apply pressure and absorb the blood. He knows that the thin, poor excuses for napkins Penny has at the bar won’t do much to help, and asking her to take her tube top off to wrap around her hand would be a little too much. 

She definitely can’t have on a bra with that top. He had been around enough girls in his life to know that for a fact and besides, it wasn’t like he was here to make her uncomfortable purposely. 

“No she won’t,” he comforts. He has his shirt in one hand and folds it vertically to maximize the surface area. 

“Here,” he directs, taking her arm gently and inspecting her wound, and God, did that glass cut fucking deep. 

Two deep cuts carved their way into her left hand and the pools of crimson flowing from them tell Bradley all that he needs to know. 

She indefinitely needs stitches. 

Bradley wraps the tank top around her palm and instructs her to hold it tight. She presses her lips in a faint line and tries to calm herself. 

One deep breath in, one deep breath out. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, the-

“Where’s your purse? I’m taking you to the ER.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. Now he wants to play hero, she thinks. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be in this situation at all. 

“I can drive myself,” she snaps. 

He chuckles and shakes his head and she instantly feels patronized. It was the kind of laugh her babysitters used to do whenever she asked if ten was a grown-up age. Newsflash, it wasn’t and she came to know that pretty quickly, but not before she felt the fury and embarrassment of being chortled at; especially when she had done nothing amusing. 

“Really? You want blood all over your car? And what’re you gonna do about using your turn signals,” he tries to reason, “You don’t have the fingers to do that, chick.” 

And God, does she want to punch him in his stupid, handsome face. 

“Fuck you,” she mumbles underneath her breath. No matter how upset she was, she couldn’t not agree that he had some valid points. Being a bitch got Amelia pissed at her earlier. The last thing she needs is to be left hanging with glass in her hand with no ride home because of her own childish emotions. 

Thank God he didn’t hear her. 

“Where’s your purse? I’m locking up and taking you to the hospital.” She opens her mouth to argue with him again, to insist that she can call an Uber or Penny, but Bradley shuts her down. 

“Non-negotiable.” 

She puts her head down like a scolded puppy and points to the back by the kitchen with her uninjured hand. 

Rooster offers her a warm smile. “Good girl,” he says, patting her shoulder as he walks past her to grab the bag from the back. 

He tosses the keys to his Bronco on the bar top. “If you want, you can start the car. Just promise not to drive off with it?” He offers her a weak smile. 

(Y/N) puffs and exhales her annoyance. “Can’t promise I’ll be there still once you lock up.” 

Bradley knows that she won’t take off. She can be snippy and has proven it to him time and time again with her quick remarks and her attitude toward him right now, but to her core, she’s a good person. She would never intentionally do something like that to anyone; no matter how pissed off they had made her. 

As he hears the front door to the Hard Deck open and close with (Y/N)’s exit, he looks up at the clock. It reads 11:30 PM and fuck, waking up tomorrow is gonna be a pain in the ass, he knows. But he would rather have a late night with her than his own thoughts. 

And yeah, Bradley Bradshaw thinks he can start to get used to the smart ass girl sitting in the passenger seat of his car right now. 

v. 

“Are you planning on buttoning up your shirt anytime soon? I’m sick of the nurses coming by and gawking at you,” (Y/N) gripes, “Giving you all the attention when I’m the one with my hand damn near hanging off.” 

Bradley scoffs. “You’re being dramatic. And besides, this is kind of your own fault. No one told you to turn into the Incredible Hulk and crush a shot glass with your bare hand.” 

The emergency room is bustling with people; moms in labor, car accidents left and right, and people coming in screaming in pain. There’s no way her low “high” maintenance stitches would be taken care of any sooner than later. That was predetermined the minute they decided to drive instead of calling an ambulance. 

It’s nearing 2 AM and (Y/N) is still clutching Rooster’s white (well, dark red now) tank top in her left hand and with a sulky frown on her face. Her ass hurts from the vinyl plastic that serves as an awful mattress that makes up an ER bed. She knows that Bradley is more than uncomfortable from the way he shifts constantly in the mossy blue chair next to her bedside. 

She ignores his statement. What she had done was rather childish and she can’t come to grips with it herself, so what does she look like telling the person who caused her rage-induced tantrum? 

“You’re sunburnt,” she states. That’ll have to do for now. Bradley already knows a lot about her. He doesn’t need to know everything. 

“In a sexy Baywatch kinda way?” he jokingly asks and (Y/N) gives him a soft laugh. 

“No. Your chest is pink,” she continues, “More of a Patrick Star kind of way.” 

“You like it though.” 

“We’re here to fix my hand. Not your self-confidence.” 

Bradley laughs before starting to button his shirt up. “You’re a hoot, chick.” 

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows. In the past two and some hours she’s spent with Bradley Bradshaw (and the various other times she’s been with him, but she’s not sure that those can actually count for something) she’s learned a lot about his mannerisms. 

He’s always tapping his foot or rubbing his hands up and down his thighs when he’s sitting down. He uses old people's jargon. He leans on his right arm more than his left and he’s always checking his watch. When he gets tired he mumbles and then swipes his hand over his face before sitting up straighter. 

A big yawn comes from his pink lips and (Y/N) knows that she should speak up. He has to be up at five AM tomorrow morning for training at six. He should at least be able to go home and get some sleep. 

“Bradley?” she softly asks. 

“Hmm?” he answers, slouching down in his seat a little bit more but instantly shooting up to sit straight. 

(Y/N) chuckles softly and Bradley can’t deny that the sound makes his heart melt the smallest bit. 

“You can go home if you need to. I’ll get stitched up and figure out a ride.” 

Rooster sits up straighter; confusion plaguing his features. “Why would I leave you here?” 

Her eyes widen. Holy shit, he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. 

“You have to be up early tomorrow. Just go home. I’m a big girl,” she flexes the small and albeit mushy muscles of her right arm, “I can handle it.” 

“Are you kidding? A shot glass took you out. No way I’m leaving you at the hospital by yourself.” 

And like how it was at the Hard Deck, the look he shoots her tells her that what he said is “non-negotiable.” He was staying, driving her home, and that was final. 

“You need sleep, Bradley. You can’t just pull an all-nighter and then go and operate a plane. That’s just dangerous,” she lectures and Bradley lets out a yawn during her sentence. 

She almost says some snide remark about him being rude and how she’s not that boring but Bradley beats her to fill the silence with his voice. 

“Scoot over then.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes almost explode out of her skull. “You want me to what?” 

“Jesus, chick. It was just a suggestion,” he chides, “Getting your panties all in a twist because I won’t sleep but then won’t let me sleep? Kinda counterintuitive, don’t you think?” 

She’s at a loss for words but he can’t have the final say. No one else could ever have the final say with her. 

“Be my guest,” she says as she scoots over on the ER cot and makes enough space for him to lay down. 

Rooster smirks to himself. He didn’t think that would work, let alone work on her. She doesn’t know it and he sure as hell will never tell her, but his heart was racing during that entire interaction. The rejection would have been rather embarrassing; especially considering they didn’t know how soon she could get stitched up and that he promised to drop her off at home.

He slides onto the bed next to her but he’s too broad. His shoulder is nudging her off the bed and he knows that she’s uncomfortable but is such a giver that she won’t say so and would let him fall asleep like that if he really wanted to. 

But Bradley’s not an asshole (at least he isn’t one consciously) so he speaks up after he clears his throat. 

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work. Not at all,” he says and turns his head to the side to look at her. Her eyes tell him that “Well no dip, shit.” but he knows that she wouldn’t dare say it out loud. Not right now when she feels indebted to him for driving her to the hospital and staying with her while she waits. 

He nudges her shoulder before sliding back out of the bed. Bradley reaches for her right hand. “Here, budge up.” 

He pulls her up as if she weighs nothing and she stands in awe as he lays down first on the bed but spreads his legs. And oh, now she knows what he’s doing. 

“Come lay down with me. You deserve to sleep some, too,” he says and she cautiously meanders her way to lay between his legs; her back pressed to his chest and her head falling into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. 

“Won’t your arm fall asleep or something? I just don’t wanna be a bother.” 

Bradley lets out a puff of air before wrapping both his arms around her front. His hands are joined together beneath her sternum. 

“(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Shut up and go to bed.” 

She rolls her eyes but she can’t fight him on it. And as they lay there she can hear the soft snores of the older man laying behind her and allows herself to drift off to a comatose state as well. 

vi. 

The doctor comes in about an hour after they doze off. 

She’s a short woman with dark hair and tan skin; some crow's feet by her eyes and the skin on her hands slightly thinned. She looked kind and motherly and as she pulls the curtain back softly, she finds the two dead to the world in their slumber. 

Doctor Tharp has to stop herself from audibly cooing. 

The position (Y/N) and Bradley are in makes her think of her and her husband years ago. Lovebirds, she thinks, and while she would rather sit there and stare at them in awe, she knows that she has to get this poor girl stitched up and sent on her way home as soon as she can. 

She nearly had a cow when she had heard that they had been waiting to see a doctor for stitches since 11:30 the night before. How the hell they had slipped through the cracks? She doesn’t know, but she makes a mental note to be extra kind to them while she performs her services. 

Doctor Tharp gently shakes (Y/N) awake; the younger girl stirring with a gasp and some anxiousness before a hand is placed on her shoulder. 

“Good morning, (Y/N). Have a good rest?” the doctor asks and (Y/N) hopes that this is who is going to stitch her up and send her on her merry way. 

“It was okay. Would’ve been better if bozo here wasn’t snoring in my ear the entire time,” she answers and that makes Doctor Tharp laugh softly. 

“Let’s get you stitched up,” she says, and (Y/N) unwraps Bradley’s arms from around her midsection and scoots closer down the bed to be near the tray that holds the instruments needed for her stitches. 

Doctor Tharp numbs the area with lidocaine and asks her to move her fingers and her thumb on her left hand and as she starts suturing the wound and picking out the shards of glass left in her skin, she finds things to talk about with the younger girl. 

(Y/N) tells her the basics that she’s seemed to be telling everyone older than the age of twenty-one these days; that she just graduated from undergrad and that she was going to law school in the fall, that she’s not from here and visiting her godmother, that she loves California and doesn’t know why she left it. 

And Doctor Tharp knows she shouldn’t and it goes against her own beliefs but she just has to know who the young man sitting behind (Y/N) is and wants to comment on how sweetly he was holding her just a few moments prior. 

“You and that boy are such a sweet couple,” she says and (Y/N)’s eyes bulge out of her skull. 

“Oh me and Bradley? No. No, no,” she starts and she knows that she’s rambling. She does it quite a bit when she gets nervous and doesn’t know what to say. 

Her damn Ella Enchanted gene is kicking in. 

“We’re just friends. Sorta just met a week and some change ago,” she answers and while what she said wasn’t a lie in the slightest (they were friends and they did just meet not that long ago) she can’t help but feel the ache in her heart that adds that she wants more than a friendship from him. 

But she can’t risk sounding ridiculous or getting ahead of herself before the race even starts, so she leaves her statement at that; just a statement and not a wish. 

“Well, you’re quite cute friends, then.” Doctor Tharp says. She can tell that what she had said had made (Y/N) uncomfortable. 

Too far. 

It takes (Y/N) all of ten minutes to get stitched up before Doctor Tharp pats her arm with a smile and tells her that she’ll have the papers for proper care at the front desk. 

“You take care. Of yourself and your heart,” the older woman says and (Y/N) knows that she should find some wisdom in her words, but they almost sound like a sort of doomed prophecy. 

Whatever, she thinks. She’s just excited to get home and to sleep in the comfort of her own bed. 

“Bradley,” (Y/N) whispers, shaking his bicep to get him to stir. He’s like a lump on a log, soft snores coming from his mouth and his head thrown back. His arms have crossed themselves over each other and made a home on his chest to replace the space (Y/N) had taken up before she moved. 

“Bradley!” (Y/N) shakes him again. 

He still sits asleep; completely dead to the world. 

(Y/N) twists his nipple through his shirt and bingo. He wakes up with a scream and shoots daggers at her with his glassy eyes. 

“M’all stitched up. We can go now,” she says and they exit the stall and make their way to the front desk where the charge nurse goes over how to properly clean her stitches and that she’d need to be back at the hospital in a week to get them removed. 

She gives the charge nurse a weak smile and her and Bradley walk back outside to his parked Bronco; the ocean breeze making the night sky chilly and (Y/N) shivers. He notices as he opens the passenger door to let her in. 

He rounds his way to the front and locks the doors before sliding into his seat. 

“Cold?” he questions and she gives him a slight nod. 

He purses his lips before turning the key in the ignition and starting the car. His hand instantly finds the heat dial and turns it up and they pull out of the parking lot. 

“Penny’s house. Right?” he breaks the silence again and (Y/N) nods, leaning her head on his window. 

The fifteen-minute ride from the hospital to Penny’s driveway is quick; the stillness of the night comfortable and washing them in warmth. 

His Bronco is parked in the driveway before (Y/N) turns to him again. 

“Before I go, I have to ask one more favor,” she says and Bradley raises his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Not gonna ask me to donate a kidney to you or something like that. Right?” he jokes and she playfully rolls her eyes at him. 

“No, you dinky dink. I just need you to rip my hospital bracelet off. They put it on my right hand and I can’t use my left to cut it off.” 

Bradley reaches over and takes her hand without hesitation and pulls at the plastic band wrapped around her wrist. 

“Thank you,” she sheepishly praises, “Thank you for everything. I could never owe you enough.” 

Rooster grins, all the anguish of the day forgotten with the dopey-eyed grin he gives her. 

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds her palm in his hand; the action muscle memory and leans forward; their forehead resting against each others. 

Her breath hitches in her throat because she swears to God if he doesn’t kiss her tonight she might rip out her stitches with her teeth and jump off of Penny’s goddamn roof. 

“Please,” (Y/N) whimpers and she didn’t mean for her request to be said out loud. 

Thankfully, Bradley ignores her words. She doesn’t know how she would live down the embarrassment of that one if he did manage to bring it up just then. 

He presses their lips together. His lips are plush and soft; the right amount of dry and moist. They move in sync with hers, molding together like the perfect puzzle. His kiss is deep but gentle, all-consuming but allowing her space if she wanted it. He kisses her once. Twice. Three times. And then he pulls away, his hand still on her cheek as he licks his slips subtly. 

She’s certain Bradley Bradshaw needs to add “perfect kisser” to his resume if he hasn’t already. 

“Didn’t take you as a beggar, chick,” he says, and fuck, there it is. That smart alecky remark she was waiting for. 

“If that’s the case, I’ll go inside and not give you my number,” she teases and Bradley feigns a gasp. 

“You wouldn’t. Don’t leave me out to dry now. Your blood was all over my shirt at some point. Too late to turn back now.” 

She gives him a toothy smile; one that’s reserved for her happiest and flirtiest moments. 

(Y/N)’s grabbing a napkin from the middle counsel of his car and a pen from his cupholder. She scribbles her phone number down on the napkin with a cute, “Text me! :)” written after it. 

She gets out of the Bronco and shuts the door, damn near running inside and waving at Bradley through the window of the living room where she can see his car in view. 

Bradley just shakes his head and smiles with glee. 

vii. 

One thing Natasha Trace was proud of was how well she could read people. 

Any boyfriends her sisters ever brought home didn’t have to get the stamp of approval from her father. Oh no, they had to get the stamp of approval from her. 

And she had always been right. She knew the ones who lied about their jobs or the ones who were chronic cheaters (because they had done it so much they were pros at hiding it, just not from Natasha) or the ones who were just downright fucking nuts. 

So if she can read people she had barely spent ten minutes with and could draw up a pretty good judgment of character, she knew that her analysis of people she knew well was never wrong. 

When Bradley Bradshaw, her right-hand man and one of her best friends, pulls up to her government-supplied housing in his Bronco at 5:25 the morning after his huge blowup at Hangman, she knew something was off. 

He didn’t have that shitty cassette mixed tape playing like he usually does and he’s basically inhaling a peach-flavored Red Bull. The thing about Bradley and energy drinks was that Bradley never drank them unless he was about dead from exhaustion. 

And from their text exchange last night, he was home at 8 PM and had all the intentions of going to bed soon. 

And well shit, that was apparent to be a lie. 

He’s uncharacteristically quiet. Rooster wasn’t a morning person but once he was awake, he was awake and was always ready to chat which drove Phoenix absolutely crazy, but the silence they’re sitting in on their way to base is deafening. She knows something is up, yet she can’t quite put her finger on it. 

“Good sleep?” she asks, testing the waters to see if Bradley would lie to her.

He curves his pointer finger and rubs it against the tip of his nose. This bastard was about to lie to her. 

She can feel it. 

“Great, actually,” he says with no delay so she knows that he’s not telling the truth. 

Phoenix knows that Rooster doesn’t do well with confrontation. He’s a born people-pleaser and anything that wasn’t able to be handled maturely made him want to get up and flee. She’d save calling him out for later.

Besides, they had bigger shit to worry about for the time being; one of those being the fact that they’re being sent on a suicide mission in three weeks. 

Natasha turns her body to the side of the car and looks out the window until something catches her eye. She turns to look at Bradley and sees that his eyes are cemented on the road. She bends down to pick it up swiftly; her movements so fast and contained that from Bradley’s peripheral vision, it just looked like she moved a little bit to get comfortable. 

It’s a fucking hospital bracelet and as she turns it around to read what’s on it, she sees a name she doesn’t recognize and her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull when she sees the birth year. 

The year starts with a 20 and she feels sick to her stomach. 

There’s no way Rooster had a little girl in here. There’s no way that that’s the reason he’s acting so weird. There can’t be. 

And then she starts counting the current year from the year on the bracelet, and then it clicks that, “Oh shit, this chick isn’t underaged.” 

She’s just young, and math has never been Natasha’s strong suit. 

She audibly exhales which makes Bradley turn his head to look at her and she stuffs the bracelet underneath her thigh before snaking it down to her pocket. 

“You okay?” he asks and Natasha eagerly nods. 

“Yeah, just a little jittery,” she answers and Bradley nods in agreeance. 

He brings his Red Bull back up to his lips before taking a swig and placing it back down in the cup holder. 

“Me too.” 

[herrscherofinsanity]

Meeting Yu Again

Summary: It's been a month since that enchanting night and Jimin makes it her life's mission to run into you again and get you to fall for her along the way.

Fluff

Yu Jimin x fem!reader

Word count: 5.3k

Hi! This is part 2 for Enchanted to meet Yu, if you haven't checked that one out I strongly recommend you do.

___________________________________________________________

About a month later

Saturday, 3pm.

“Yeji please! I’m desperate, okay?”

“Look Jimin, how is you being a little coward any of my business?” Yeji said, she was clearly irritated but Jimin wasn’t ready to back down.

Jimin ran a hand through her hair, she closed her eyes and took a moment to catch her breath. She definitely wasn’t expecting Yeji to be so difficult about the whole thing. Think Jimin! What could convince Yeji to help me out?

The two girls were currently sitting at a café near Yeji’s house, Jimin had called her friend under the pretense that they hadn’t seen each other in so long and they should hang out, but Yeji should’ve known better than that. Jimin had been begging for the past hour or so to throw a party at Yeji’s house.

“Why don’t you just text her, you know, like a normal person would?” Yeji inquired.

Jimin tensed up at her friend’s statement. “And say what?” she hissed. “Hey y/n, I know it’s been a month since we met, I’m sorry I never texted you or anything, I was too scared to do so because I kept hearing rumors about you.” Jimin looked at Yeji incredulously, Yeji on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s current state of distress.

“She might appreciate the honesty”. Jimin groaned, but Yeji continued “Plus, she could’ve also texted you but she didn’t”.

“Weren’t you the one who said she was never one to take the first step?” Jimin stared at her friend suspiciously. “Were you lying to me!? Why are you trying to come in between my future wife and me?” she exclaimed.

A few days after she met you, while she was trying to muster up the courage to DM you on Instagram, Jimin asked Yeji what she knew about you and how she could approach you. Yeji had admitted that she didn’t know much about your love life other than some rumors that had been going around your school. Everything Jimin heard came down to one thing, you never said yes to anyone how asked you out, you didn’t seem interested at all in dating.

That left Jimin absolutely baffled, you definitely were interested in her back at the dance recital, that gave her a little hope but it wasn't enough to get her to make the first move. How was she supposed to approach an unapproachable girl?

“Her friends say she’s not the type to go after someone, if you want to get anywhere with her you have to take the first step… but there’s really no guaranteeing she’ll say yes”. Yeji’s previous words echoed in Jimin’s mind.

The whole thing left her feeling torn, Jimin was dying to talk to you, but her fear of rejection ended up winning in the end. That brought her to the current situation, convincing Yeji to throw a party for her birthday, invite all of her friends and coincidentally run into you. Jimin had convinced herself it was the perfect plan; she just needed the birthday girl to agree.

“Relax Jimin” Yeji sighed “you asked me about her and I was honest with you” she shrugged.

Don’t strangle your friend, Jimin.

“Wait a minute” the gears in Jimin’s head started to turn “there was another girl that night, the one you took to your dressing room. You’re interested in her, aren’t you?”

Jimin noticed how Yeji’s eyes widened for a split second. Checkmate.

“Okay, and?” Yeji said, trying way too hard to be casual “what’s it to you?”

“She’s y/n’s friend, isn’t she?” Jimin smiled, mischief swimming in her eyes “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her on some of my wife’s Instagram stories”.

“Yes, they’re friends” Yeji replied carefully “y/n is the reason Ryujin came to the dance recital in the first place, she asked her to tag along”. Jimin didn’t miss the slight blush that covered Yeji’s cheeks as she mentioned your friend.

“That’s perfect! Don’t you see?” Jimin exclaimed “if we do this, then both of us win!”.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“We plan the party, you invite y/n because she’s your friend, you drop hints that you wish for Ryujin to be there for your birthday party, y/n invites Ryujin and bam! You get your girl to celebrate your birthday with you and I get a chance to make the love of my life fall in love with me”. Jimin’s excitement was contagious, Yeji wasn’t really the type to party, but she couldn’t deny that Jimin’s little scheme wasn’t half bad.

After considering her friend’s proposal, a smile grew across Yeji’s face. “You know what? Sure, let’s do this thing”.

Jimin jumped out of her seat and into her friend’s arms. “Yes, yes yes! Thank you so much for this, Yeji, I’ll make sure both of our nights are perfect”.

She finally did it, she finally found her way back to you, and she was about to do everything in her power to get you to agree to go out with her. Yu Jimin vowed right then and there; she was going to get you to fall in love with her.

___________________________________________________________

Monday, 7am.

You were currently standing in front of your locker, humming along to the song that was currently playing through your headphones. Too busy being stuck in your own little world, you failed to notice someone was approaching you.

You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder, a boy was standing behind you, a shy smile on his face and a single rose on his hand. You raised one of your eyebrows as you removed your headphones. The boy looked familiar, but you’d be lying if you said you knew what his name was.

“Hi y/n, how was your weekend?” he said, taking a step closer to you.

“It was fine, thank you for asking” you tried your best to give him a small smile. Telling someone you like them must be nerve wracking.

“Oh, well, that’s good to hear” he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, he was clearly expecting you to keep the conversation flowing but that wasn’t going to happen. “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me after school? Maybe we could get ice cream or something”.

You sighed before shaking your head “sorry, I’m not interested in dating”.

“If you could just give me a chance maybe it would change your mind” he tried again.

“I said no, please stop insisting”. You put your headphones back in and turned to your locker once again. A second later you felt someone tapping your shoulder, internally rolling your eyes you looked over your shoulder to see if it was still the boy from before only to realize it wasn’t.

“I know Nayeon left you in shambles, but it’s been almost two years, you should try to give someone a chance” your best friend, Chloe said.

You tensed up when she said that. Im Nayeon. Your neighbor and childhood friend turned into crush turned into lover and then into ex when she left for college. Nayeon had been your first everything, the older girl had shown you what it was like to be loved and to be in love, but it didn’t last. When it was time for your lover to leave for college, she gave you an excuse about not wanting to deal with a long-distance relationship claiming it would be too much of a hassle. You begged her to give your relationship a chance, but she said it was a necessary change, she needed to find herself and a kid like you would only bring her down. To add insult to injury, your older sister, Liz, was and still is best friends with Nayeon.

“Can we not talk about her? Besides, I’m not interested in relationships”.

Your friend laughed; she knew perfectly well a certain dancer had been plaguing your thoughts for the past month now. “Oh really?” her tone was dripping with sarcasm “and what happened to the girl you couldn’t shut up about? You know, the one you were so close to kissing?”.

You shut your locker before turning to fully face Chloe; your friend certainly didn’t miss the blush that was covering your cheeks. “That felt different, something about Jimin was different” you sighed again, a lovesick expression on your face “but anyway, that was a whole month ago, if something was meant to happen it would’ve happened by now”.

“So, what you’re saying is that if that Jimin girl were to come here right this second and asked you out, you would say yes and stop being emo about your ex?”.

 “I’m not being emo! Me not wanting a relationship has nothing to do with the fact that I was dumped” you huffed “but… I wouldn’t say no if a certain someone asked me out”.

Just then, your friend Yeji approached you two, a smile present on her face.

“Hello girls! It’s a good thing I caught you here, there’s something I need to talk to you about” the senior said. You and Chloe exchanged a look, before staring at Yeji with anticipation.

“Is it another dance recital?” Chloe blurted out. Yeji let out a loud laugh while you groaned covering your face with your hands in the process.

“I bet y/n here would like that, but no.” both of your friends laughed, Yeji continued “my birthday is coming up, I’m having a party this Saturday and I would love it if you both came” she ended with a smile. Inviting Chloe means there’s less chance of y/n refusing to attend.

“I must admit I’m surprised, you’re not really into parties” you pointed out.

Yeji internally cursed Jimin before answering, a forced smile on her lips “I know, I’m trying to step out of my comfort zone this year”.

You hummed not fully convinced, but you weren’t going to press further. “Sure Yeji, I’ll be there” you smiled.

“Me too!” Chloe chimed in. Yeji smiled at the two of you.

“Great! Also, y/n feel free to bring a plus one with you, I really won’t mind” she gave you a pointed look, you raised your eyebrow in return. Is Yeji talking about Ryujin?

“Right, I’ll see what I can do” you saw relief washing through Yeji’s face “thanks for the invite, we’ll definitely be there” you said as you made a move to walk away.

“Oh! y/n?” Yeji called out to you “try not to miss the party, there’s someone in attendance who’s just dying to see you” she finished with a smirk, you felt your heart skip a beat and hope blooming in your chest.

Could it be?

___________________________________________________________

Saturday, 5pm.

You were currently at your house getting ready for Yeji’s party, your friends Ryujin and Chloe insisted on getting ready together so no one would be over or underdressed. Your friends were discussing some drama that happened during lunch time yesterday, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on their words. Your thoughts took the form of a certain raven-haired beauty, a smile made its way to your face and a blush covered your cheeks as you thought about meeting the girl once more. Maybe this time you’ll have more time with her, maybe you’ll get to finish what you started. But at the same time, negative thoughts started plaguing your mind. What if Jimin wasn’t as excited to see you as you were? What if it was all in your head? Surely if she was interested in you, she would’ve reached out earlier, right?

“Hello? Earth to y/n?” you snapped out of your thoughts and noticed Chloe waving her hand in front of your face.

“Huh?”

Chloe sighed, while Ryujin looked on with concern in her eyes. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off…”

You bit your lip, wondering if you should dampen the mood or pretend everything’s fine. Looking at both of your friends, noticing the concern in both of their faces, you knew you could trust them with your inner turmoil.

“It’s just… what if I really see Jimin there?” you looked down, playing your hands “I mean, what if I’m not what she expected? And… she’s also a senior. What if I give her chance and then when she graduates, she leaves me?”

“y/n look at me” you locked eyes with Chloe, that’s when she noticed the tears in your eyes “Jimin isn’t Nayeon, give her a chance and see what happens. But most importantly, give yourself a chance, you deserve to be happy and to love freely. Heartbreak is a normal thing, especially at this age, but don’t throw away the chance to be happy with this girl just because you’re scared, okay? Ryujin, Michelle, Bea, and I will be here for you”. She went in for a hug, Ryujin joining in not even a second later.

“I have no idea who Nayeon is, but I’ll beat her up for you y/n” Ryujin stated, you chuckled at what she said, you were incredibly grateful for your friends and their support.

“Thank you, I needed that” you said as you pulled away from the hug so you could look at your friends properly. “I’ll go to that party and I’ll have the time of my life”.

“That’s the spirit! You should wear that little black dress; you know the one. Jimin won’t be able to take her eyes off of you” Chloe winked.

Amongst laughter and nonsensical chatter, you three finished getting ready and waited for Michelle and Bea, your other friends, to pick you up. As you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn’t keep one specific thought out of your head.

Just you wait, Yu Jimin, I’ll make you fall in love with me no matter what.

___________________________________________________________

Saturday, 8pm.

“I think I’m gonna barf”.

“Not on my mother’s car you won’t, Ryujin!” Michelle exclaimed from the front seat. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I bet she’s nervous because it’s her first-time stepping foot in Yeji’s house” you said, a light laugh leaving your lips.

“What do you mean first time? You’ve been here before?” the nervous girl narrowed her eyes at you.

“Oh yeah, countless times” you said, getting out of the car, the others following your movements “and before you start plotting my death, I was invited strictly for rehearsals when we did that musical together last year”. Ryujin seemed to relax a bit, but her shoulders were still tense, Bea noticed this and attempted to make her feel better with some candy she kept on her purse at all times.

When you guys made your way into Yeji’s house you were surprised by how packed it was; Yeji had not only invited the whole senior and junior classes from your school, apparently, she invited people form other high schools as well. Chloe linked her arm with yours and you sent a reassuring smile her way, out of the corner of your eye you saw Michelle motioning you guys to move further into the house.

You knew the person you should be looking for was the birthday girl, but your heart was set on finding the girl who made you promise to teach her how to do flips a whole month ago. As you kept walking, you kept making eye contact with strangers. Does Yeji even know all these people?

You were about to give on up your search for the host and make your way to the kitchen when you felt someone standing right behind you. You were about to turn around and go off on a rant about personal space when the person, the girl, leaned in to whisper something in your ear that made your blood run cold.

“Hey stranger”. That deep voice, that playful tone…

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you turned around, startling Chloe in the process. There she was, standing right in front of you with that goofy grin on her face. You couldn’t contain the smile that was growing in your face, you can’t even remember how many times you had dreamed of running into the girl again.

“Hey yourself. I really like your outfit, you look beautiful.” She truly looked beautiful; Jimin was wearing jeans and a crop top, showing off her abs in the process, her beautiful black hair was wavy today. She was giving off an effortless yet chic vibe and you were absolutely digging it.

Jimin smiled at your compliment, she felt her face getting hot and thanked the universe the lights were off. It hadn’t even been three minutes and she was already going insane. Truthfully speaking, Jimin had noticed you the moment you stepped foot into the house. Not that she had been dutifully staring at the door for the past hour or anything like that.

“Thank you, y/n. I like your dress, you look gorgeous” she said biting her lip.

Chloe looked between the two of you, a smirk growing on her face as she thought of her next move. “Hi, you’re the famous Yu Jimin, aren’t you? I’m Chloe Hosterman, y/n’s best friend. It’s very nice to meet you” she said. Jimin smiled in return and introduced herself; if she wanted to have a chance with you, she needed to win your friends over as well.

“Say Jimin, you obviously got here before we did, do you happen to know where Yeji is?” Chloe continued.

“Uh actually I lost sight of her a while ago, sorry about that”. Jimin said sheepishly. She had absolutely no idea where Yeji was, but she couldn’t really expose herself like that.

“Don’t worry about it” Chloe turned to address both of you “y/n, let’s split up. You and Jimin can go look for Yeji over there by the kitchen, we’ll take the dance floor, okay?” she said, sending a not so discreet wink your way. You laughed, mentally thanking your best friend for the opportunity.

You took Jimin’s hand and dragged her with you to the kitchen. You poked your head in and noticed it was empty. Perfect.

“No sign of Yeji here, we might as well take a break” you suggested, a playful grin displayed across your face. Jimin laughed, it was obvious what your and your friend’s intentions were, but she definitely wasn’t going to complain.

“It’s just you and me for now, we might as well play catch up, don’t you agree?” Jimin had an easy smile on her face. She had been a ball of nerves ever since Yeji agreed to play along with her little scheme, but now that she had you right in front of her, she only felt peace. Jimin knew from the start you were different, she didn’t understand why, but she wanted to find out, she wanted to keep feeling this way.

You agreed with Jimin, making a move to lean against the counter, you looked up at your companion with anticipation in your eyes. Jimin smiled softly, moving to stand right in front of you she loosely wrapped her arms around your waist, in return, you wrapped yours around her neck. You just stood there like that for a while, basking in each other’s presence.

“So…” Jimin began “what song did you choose for our upcoming performance?”. You laughed at her question.

“And here I was thinking you had forgotten all about that” you teasingly replied.

Jimin let out a gasp, bringing one of her hands to her chest. “You wound me, y/n. This performance is the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Oh really?”

“Cross my heart. I even looked up tutorials for back flips” Jimin pouted, you let out a loud laugh at that. You had no idea whether Jimin was pulling your leg or not, but she definitely had a way to make things entertaining.

 “Why did you make me promise to teach you how to do flips if you were going to watch tutorials behind my back?” you countered, Jimin saw the amusement swimming in your eyes “you’re the one who’s wounding me”.

“I wanted to impress you, obviously” Jimin grinned. “Is it working?”.

You hummed. “I’m not telling”. Jimin laughed, leaning in a bit.

“Not even for a kiss?” she playfully winked at you.

“Mm, you can give it a try, but I won’t make any promises”.

Jimin stared at your lips, then at your eyes, and then back at your lips. She had been dreaming of this moment for what felt like ages now. Even though she wanted to connect your lips as quickly as possible, she still wanted to make things a bit romantic. Jimin held your waist with a firmer grasp as she slowly leaned in. You closed your eyes waiting for Jimin to finally kiss you.

“Jimin! There you are!” Jimin let out a groan when she felt you pulling away, she turned to glare at the familiar voice that had called her name.

“Minjeong. What is it?” Jimin didn’t try to hide the irritation she was currently feeling. You, on the other hand, turned to look at the newcomer curiously. Right by the entrance of the kitchen, a girl with short brunette hair, big round eyes and a light pout on her lips stood watching the two of you awkwardly. She locked eyes with you and felt her heart skipping a beat when you smiled at her.

“I didn’t know you were busy.” The girl started “we hadn’t seen you in a while, we were getting worried” she said, looking down. She’s adorable, you thought to yourself.

Jimin felt like strangling her friends. They all knew the only reason she was here was to get close to the girl she was currently holding in her arms. Why on Earth where they looking for her? She stared blankly at Minjeong. Someone better be dying.

“Hey, Minjeong! Did you find her?” another girl made her way into the kitchen, she paused and stared at all of them one by one “Oh.”

“Is she here?” yet another girl walked in. You turned to look at Jimin, unable to stop the laugh that came out of your lips when you saw her right eye twitching. Jimin sighed.

“Okay, everyone’s here now. Great.” She said dryly. “y/n, these are my best friends Minjeong, Aeri and Yizhuo” she said pointing to each individual as she introduced them. “Girls, this is y/n” she gave them a pointed look when she said that. You noticed the growing smirk on Aeri’s face.

“Ohhhh” she started “This is the girl you haven’t been able to shut up about. I can see why you’re so whipped, she’s gorgeous!” the girl exclaimed. Yizhuo laughed loudly at the face Jimin was making, Minjeong laughed along but she looked mortified.

You tried to come to Jimin’s rescue, “it’s very nice to meet you girls” you smiled warmly. You didn’t seem fazed at Aeri’s bold remarks, she was impressed. Perhaps she just needed to be a bit more embarrassing to get a reaction out of you.

Before she could try another tactic, more people made their way into the kitchen. This time, said people were rather unfamiliar to Jimin, but they seemed to react positively when they spotted you by her side.

“y/n, we found Yeji! You should go say hi” a tall blonde said, only then did she turn to acknowledge the other people in the kitchen, she had a perplexed expression on her face. “You already made friends? How much have you been drinking?”

Aeri noticed how you tensed up at that comment; you coughed awkwardly. “I haven’t had anything to drink yet. This is Jimin, and this are Jimin’s friends, Minjeong, Aeri and Yizhuo” you introduced them.

“Ah, gotcha!” she exclaimed. The girl, in Jimin’s opinion, was very cheerful. “I’m Michelle!” She pulled three other girls closer to her “this is Bea, this is Chloe and this one is Ryujin! We’re y/n’s best friends!” the blonde had a contagious smile on her face.

“Do you mind if we steal y/n away for a second?” the girl introduced as Bea said. “It would be very impolite not to say hi to the host of the party, I hope you understand”.

“So formal all the time” Chloe teased, the other girl huffed.

You walked away from Jimin and over to your friends, not before leaving a kiss on the other girl’s cheek. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”. Jimin felt like she had forgotten how to speak and simply nodded as she watched you walk away. She regained her composure when she heard Aeri cackling.

“Remind me who that girl was?” Yizhuo said “her name rings a bell”.

“She’s the girl Jimin literally tackled and then claimed as her future wife” Aeri explained.

“She’s also the reason we’re all here at this party instead of chilling at home” Minjeong added.

“Ah, that’s right!” Yizhuo exclaimed. “The girl Jimin was way too scared to text”. Aeri laughed even louder at that, Jimin rolled her eyes.

“You were too afraid to text her, yet here you were, about ready to suck her face off. Jimin, have some shame”. Jimin let out an indignant huff as she made a move to walk away, she refused to acknowledge her friends' teasing remarks.

On the other side of the party, you had just finished thanking Yeji for the invite. You and your friends walked away and towards a more secluded spot, not before making sure Ryujin invited the birthday girl to the dance floor. You considered your next move as you watched both Ryujin and Yeji trying their best to act casual, you could hang out with your friends for a bit or you could go back and look for Jimin. As you tried to decide what to do, you felt someone pulling you away with them.

Startled, you looked towards the stranger only to let out a sigh of relief.

“Did I scare you?” Jimin giggled, you playfully rolled your eyes at her.

“You seriously need to stop scaring me, I might get the wrong impression”. You laughed lightly. Jimin decided to cut to the chase.

“Run away with me?” she whispered.

“Huh?” you were surprised by her request. What did she mean by that?

“Nothing too serious” she quickly added when she noticed your apprehension “I meant just for tonight, we keep getting interrupted and I want to get to know you better without all these people around”.

“Tempting” you played along “where are you taking me?”

Jimin simply gave you a mysterious smile before winking. “You’ll see, love.”

Chloe’s words from earlier rang in your head. Give yourself a chance. And that’s exactly what you did. Shooting your friends a quick text so they wouldn’t worry, you followed Jimin out of the house, her hand firmly holding yours.

Jimin walked you to her car, opening the passenger door for you and then closing it once you were strapped in. She jogged over to the driver’s side and gave you a goofy grin as she got in. “My parents gave me the ‘first date’ talk. Get ready for the best night of your life” you giggled at her comment. She’s such a dork, but I can’t deny she’s making my heart melt at every chance she gets.

“Ah, so this is a date?”

Jimin thought for a moment before answering. “Yes and no? I can definitely do better than this, I promise, but just the thought of taking you out on a date is making me feel all giddy and excited” she smiled softly at you.

You reached out to take her hand in yours and returned her smile warmly. “You’ll just have to blow my mind away on our next date, then. For now, let’s enjoy this moment together”. Without further ado, Jimin drove away.

You had to admit, you were the most disoriented person on the face of the Earth. You had absolutely no idea where Jimin was taking you, only realizing where you were once you got to your destination. Jimin quickly got out of the car to open the passenger door for you, she held your hand as she helped you out. You leaned in, softly pressing your lips to her cheek as a thank you. The goofy grin she had refused to leave her face.

“The park, really?” You laughed at her choice. Jimin laughed along with you, reaching towards the backseat of her car to grab something you couldn’t really make out.

“Well,” she grabbed your hand and pulled you along with her “we did make a promise to come here”.

Once you were far enough for her liking she stopped walking, fiddling with the object she had retrieved from her car. While she turned on what you later realized was a speaker, she kept the conversation going.

“Are you ready for our performance?” she quietly asked.

“Yeah, definitely” you answered just as quietly, it felt as if you two were sharing a secret.

Just then, the opening for ‘Can I Have this Dance?’ from the High School Music 3 soundtrack started playing from Jimin’s speaker. As she set it down on the ground, she carefully watched out for your reaction. “I’m sorry if this is a bit too cheesy for you, I’m a really big fan of Disney movies and I thought-” you cut her off before she could keep going down that spiral.

“It’s okay, Jimin. Perfect, actually”. You softly smiled at her. Jimin felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest from how fast it was beating. Before she could keep overthinking the whole thing, she took one of your hands and followed along to the lyrics of the song.

Jimin softly sang the lyrics of the song to you as she expertly spun you around. You felt as if you were on cloud nine, the moment felt perfect. Your companion kept guiding you through the song, looking directly in your eyes when certain lyrics rang through the park.

It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do

And with every step together, we just keep on getting better.

“You know I believe, that we were meant to be” Jimin sang softly, bringing you closer to her body. You couldn’t help the huge grin that was covering your face.

Just as the song came to an end, Jimin finally kissed you. Her arms wrapped firmly around your waist, yours wrapped around her neck. She kissed you softly at first, slowly, as if giving you the chance to pull away if you so desired. When she felt you kissing back, her kisses grew more passionate, and you tried to keep up with her pace.

Kissing Jimin felt like coming home, it felt right. You had been waiting so long to be able to feel this way again, rejecting people left and right as you were too scared to open your heart. That was, until Jimin came along, she literally made you fall for her. And in that moment, sharing your first kiss under the moonlight, you realized this whole time you had been waiting for her to come along.

When oxygen became an issue, Jimin pulled away, resting her forehead against yours. Her eyes were still closed, she was trying to catch her breath, but there was no hiding the huge smile on her face. Jimin let out a soft laugh and you couldn’t help but join her.

“What is it?” you asked as you brought one of your hands to caress her cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” she said breathily, the soft smile refusing to leave her face.

“I know what you mean” you began “let’s not wait that long for the second one, yeah?”

Jimin laughed at that right before bringing her lips down to yours one more time.

___________________________________________________________

Sunday, 1am.

[1:03 am] Jimin <3: Thank you for tonight

[1:03 am] Jimin <3: I can’t wait to see you again

[1:04 am] Jimin <3: Sweet dreams, beautiful.

___________________________________________________________

A/N: It's finally here! I really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any requests or anything just let me know, I'll try my best to write them. I'll also try to get more writing done since I'm free for a few weeks. Anywayyy, thank you for reading!

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! I love love love your works! They're my favourite and I always get excited when I see that you've posted something new :)

Anyways, I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is basically a female Xiao? I know you've written for a reader that has her walls up except Kaeya, but I was wondering what it would be like if reader was basically like Xiao, where she doesn't want to get close to people so she cuts it off before they can get close to her, she's rudely blunt, and when she finally opens she's really sweet and outgoing you just need to put in the effort to get her to open up.

Maybe with Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe, Thoma, and maybe Xiao himself? if not don't worry <3.

-- 🌺 (if it's not taken, please <3)

now you can be the second anon i can rmr who has a label :D also it might not be all. hunky dory the way it might be expected but its bc i just think it's to be expected if. someone refuses to open up so i did make reader open up a little bc communication is a two way street :D esp since like i dont believe in talking to people if theyre trying to cut you off bc i think its a violation of boundaries so i did make reader have to actually. come back after any cutting off that is done and i just wanted to do this w a big old /nm bc im not mad just explaining :D

Kaeya doesn't mind your bluntness at all. The walls also remind him of himself which makes it a bit of a challenge if the two of you develop feelings for the other person. It would require one of you to crack, that being Kaeya who wants to return your honesty with some honesty of his own.

When you try to cut him off he just lets you. If you decide you don't want to see him anymore then he won't try to convince you otherwise. He decides to take it as a sign until one day you end up confronting him about it, the slight ache of missing him becoming too much to bear. It takes a bit of awkward stumbling and you trying to communicate your feelings without actually telling him what they are. He understands enough and teases you for it lovingly, deciding that he's going to spend all his time doing so.

Slowly as you open up to him more he finds himself more and more infatuated with the softer side of you. He's glad that you feel safe enough around him to show that side of you to him, encouraging and inviting you to continue with your vulnerability.

He also always playfully bullies you back no matter what you say, liking to see the way you react to his jabs. It makes him laugh as you try to get him to stop, gauging your limits just a bit to make sure you don't actually feel uncomfortable.

Zhongli doesn't mind how surly you are either. If the two of you are together and you don't want to talk then that's fine. He's got enough to say for the two of you, telling you stories or history that somehow only he knows.

He enjoys the time he spends with you, quiet evenings filled with nothing but the sound of the harbour and him talking. Sometimes if you ask him questions he actively engages in hopes that you'll try to talk to him some more, but if you don't that's fine too. It just makes the times you do choose to engage just that much better.

When you choose not to show up for some time he just waits it out. You remind him of a certain adeptus after all so he knows if he bides his time then you'll come right back to him and when you do, he simply continues as though nothing happened.

Knowing just how stable he is made you more willing to open up, never feeling pressured which he's glad for. Zhongli is always just so gentle to you that you can't help but open up, cherishing the smile on his face that he gets whenever you smile at him.

Childe enjoys pushing your buttons a little and trying to get you to stop being so surly in a joking manner. He's not going to go out of his way to make you miserable but he does like teasing you whenever he can.

If you stop talking to him or start trying to cut him off he won't exactly stand for it. He confronts you pretty much immediately, knowing that due to your honesty it would be likely that you would just tell him straight up why it is that you decided to stop talking to him.

When you start trying to dodge the question he decides to just wait it out, staring you down until his persistence pays off and you tell him how you feel. He just rolls his eyes and pats you on the shoulder, reassuring you that there's no reason to just start ignoring him and that he really doesn't want to lose you.

From then on if you try to avoid him he decides to just show up wherever you are, reminding you that you told him you wouldn't run from him anymore and that he's here to hold you to it.

It's playful and sweet and it doesn't take you too long to decide that you might as well open up to him, Childe playfully cheering when you decide to do so and telling you that you won't regret it. Thankfully, he's right and you don't regret it, finding yourself more comfortable being with him and starting to tease him back as well. It always makes him laugh and up the ante playfully to return your gesture, loving to see just how extroverted you've become for him.

Thoma is pretty similar to Zhongli wherein he's patient enough to just wait it out. He loves spending time with you and doesn't mind your bluntness since it means he doesn't need to dance around anything.

If you try to cut him off he gets sad but he does confront you about it before you go. If he sees you out and about he'll pull you aside and try to ask you why you're trying to leave, then tell you that he'll let you do whatever you want but that he'll really miss you when you're gone.

It takes a couple weeks but you finally decide to come back to him and grumble out an apology for running away from him. He welcomes you back with a hug and reassurance that he doesn't hate you, he just finds it difficult to know what to do when someone doesn't talk to him directly about their issues.

After that, he decides to work more on trying to get you to come out of your shell. He's patient and understanding and when you finally do come out of it he loves seeing how much you talk to him and loves engaging in conversations with you. He always gets a sense of pride knowing that you feel comfortable enough around him to open up so much.

Xiao is a little difficult. He doesn't have much patience and you both run into the issue of being too similar that you run into issues because of it. It's not that you two fight, it's more that if you two decide that you want to cut off the other person, you will not be talked to unless someone breaks the silence.

Your friendship is generally relaxed, both of you just being heavily into enjoying each other's presence and not having to deal with any pretenses thanks to honesty on both sides. Xiao does like that part because it makes his life easier when he's able to just know what you mean since you're being honest.

If you decide that your friendship is getting too familiar and cut him off he'll get annoyed but if you don't seem to be trying to reach out to him he'll decide it's more trouble than it's worth. That means if you miss him you end up having to reach out to him first. However, if it takes long enough he might decide he's going to start just observing you from afar, wanting to keep you safe but not wanting to engage contact since you didn't seem interested in doing so either.

It's not until he realises that you're looking for him that you miss him too, watching as you discreetly bring your eye line up to the buildings or trees that he told you he'd frequent as he would watch the harbour. He decides to continue watching to see if you'd keep looking for him, figuring out that you were. One day he lets your gaze linger on him and offers a wave that you return, deciding that that's enough contact for him to talk to you about what you were doing.

When you two finally clear the air that means you're back to hanging out with each other. He makes a concentrated effort to be more open with you which you respond to well, becoming more extroverted and taking over conversations for the two of you. He really appreciates it, loving to hear you talk and glad that he let you in to his bubble as well.

[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 2 - "Through the Gardens"

AN: Thank you all so much for the love on chapter 1! It truly was unexpected but I'm so grateful. I hope as the story continues, the love for it does as well! This dedication has been removed.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: From her room, through the gardens, to the Dragon Pit, their route was always the same. Aemond and Y/N walked that path so much when they were younger it was a wonderful there wasn't a permanent foot path burnt into the earth. Between two dragons, everything burns with a deep intensity.

TW: mentions of being forcefully drugged/intoxicated, talks of injury, near palpable grief, reader is AFAB, romantic/sexual tension, first person POV, Aemond giving Ser Erryk the biggest crisis of his life for approximately five seconds

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, talks of Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader, ghost of a thought of Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8 k

The Grand Maester and his younger assistant both seemed relieved with what they found. They said my ribs were cracked but were mostly healed at this point. My lip would heal in a few days. There was no evidence of my captors violating me, which caused mother to let out a sigh of relief. I had at one point had a broken wrist but it had been long since healed. The rest of the bruises and any cuts were superficial, the more extreme wounds now being pink scars.

“And her memory?” she asked the men.

“It is highly possible she was kept drunk or under some form of intoxication these last years. If that is the case, she may regain memories but I do not feel comfortable guaranteeing such a thing,” the Grand Maester said to her. I appreciated his honesty as I imagined sitting in his seat, telling the Queen the opposite of what she would want to hear.

When she dismissed them, we sat in front of my fireplace together. There were so many things I wanted to convey, but my brain couldn’t form the words. There was nothing adequate I could say or do to ease her mind, so I just sat with her in silence and watched the flames dance.

The flames seemed redder than normal with a slight shimmer to them. It was something I was certain I had never seen before but the shimmer mesmerized me. In my mind I could see it, having captured the flames in a small vial. There was a glow to the vial as the red shimmery substance flowed along every part of the glass. I imagined it tasting smoky but comfortable and pleasant, leaving me feeling warm as I drift to sleep.

I couldn’t tell you where these thoughts were coming from. All I knew is it felt simultaneously too real to just be my imagination and too ridiculous to be real.

“I think grandsire’s crown suits you,” I commented, smiling over at her. She had been so concerned over her place for years that actually seeing her with the golden crown resting on her head granted me a happiness I had never expected.

She smiled back at me. “It weighs heavily on my head at times,” she told me honestly. “Yet I am grateful it came as it was supposed to.”

Mother didn’t have to explain to me further what she meant. Though I had doubted Aegon’s desire to take the Throne, Otto Hightower was a conniving man. It would’ve been far too easy for him to succeed if Alicent hadn’t put a stop to his plans. I imagine he had planned for Aegon to wear the Conqueror’s Crown, to make people think he was more deserving.

Imagining Aegon adorning the Conqueror’s Crown caused my cheeks to heat up. He was very handsome and always had been. When I was little, I thought Aegon hung the moon and stars, and I followed him around like a lovesick puppy dog. Before I had more of an understanding of what Jace and I were, before Aemond made it clear how he wanted me, I thought Aegon was my future. In fact, he almost was.

I distinctly remember my mother approaching me before she had Joffrey. Jace and I were only seven and were becoming increasingly aware of our place in the world. One of us would be heir once she took the Throne, a decision she allowed us to make. She told me she wanted to suggest a marriage between Aegon and I if I were okay with it, which even at seven I knew would be best for our family. It was a no brainer for me. Even so, it did not come to fruition as Alicent adamantly refused.

“I think I shall go see Vhaela,” I told her, standing slowly. As long as I moved slowly, my ribs did not hurt so much.

“I have assigned Ser Erryk to watch over you, he shall accompany you,” she told me, standing herself.

Just as I was about to protest, I bit my lip and held my tongue when I saw her face. Fear could be seen on her every feature. I wondered if she now felt uneasy as I would be out of her sight for the first time all afternoon. Could she be worried I would disappear again?

“Okay, mama,” I said with a small smile. I hugged her as tightly as I could, wishing I could fix all the holes in her heart my disappearance caused.

After a moment, I pulled away and gave her a small smile before leaving my room. I nodded to Ser Erryk in a greeting as I shut the door behind me.

“Good afternoon, princess,” he said as he smiled. “Where would you like to go?”

I was about to tell him my desired destination when a voice called out to me. I turned to see Aemond quickly approaching which caused my heart to rapidly beat.

He was as perfect as he had always been. His silver hair went to his mid back just as it had for years. He wore a black leather doublet with long sleeves and matching pants with black boots. He wore his eye patch over his left eye, despite how much I had always wished he would allow himself to wander free without it. He looked simple and elegant without being boring.

“Princess,” he said as he slowed to a stop in front of me.

“Prince Aemond,” I said to him, giving him a slight nod of my head. Desperately I tried to steady my heart and slow my mind.

Jace never made me so nervous. I knew him the way one knows their favorite book. Every thought, feeling, or action could be anticipated. With Aemond, I never actually had any idea of what he could possibly be thinking. He kept his feelings and thoughts close to him, not wanting anyone to know him ever.

In fact, it wasn’t until he kissed me the first time that I ever understood his words of marrying me were rooted in feelings for me. I could remember it as clear as though it happened mere hours ago. The way I was sitting in the window of the library, reading the personal journals of Rhaenys Targaryen, when he approached me with a singular red tulip in hand. The way he looked at me as he presented it, telling me it was the only flower worthy of my beauty. What I remembered most was the way his lips felt on mine, the way it made the world go quiet if only for a moment and caused my pulse to somehow quicken yet disappear all at once.

He smiled brightly at me. It was unusual for him to smile but it was a sight that always made my heart try to beat out of my chest. It was something he had always saved only for me. When we were children, when Aegon, Jace, and Luke separated themselves from us because we did not yet have dragons, he gave me sanctuary. He made me feel better than anyone else could.

“Did you find comfort in your bath, byka zaldrīzes?” he asked me, taking my hand in his and pressing it to his lips.

“I did, issa mīsio,” I told him trying to hide my smile.

My protector. It is what I have called him for as long as I could remember. He earned the nickname when I was four and he removed a spider from my room. Luke had alwayss believed that it was something I should’ve reserved only for Jace. Yet he never understood that while Jace would fight for me, Aemond would kill for me.

“Leave us,” he instructed Ser Erryk.

“But the Queen-“ my guard said quickly. He was rather panicked at the idea of leaving me against my mother’s wishes.

“Should understand there is nobody better suited to keep the Princess safe than I am,” Aemond said firmly.

The demanding tone to his voice left no room for further debate. He had always made sure that those around us knew that everyone in the world was insignificant when compared to him in regards to keeping me safe. It didn’t matter if it was his mother, the guards, or even the Gods themselves. He would strike down anyone or anything that dared to threaten me.

I could see that there was an internal debate in his head. Which should he fear more, his Queen or Aemond? Aemond acted more frequently out of anger than Mother did.

“Mother has always trusted that Aemond is a capable swordsman and knows I am safe in his company. If anything is said I will speak to her. Thank you, Ser, for your dedication,” I told him, smiling at him. He nodded quietly and walked away, knowing I would take all responsibility and feeling ease from that.

Aemond offered his arm to me. I linked mine in his without a second thought. The year I spent here before my disappearance, this is how we walked anywhere. Arm in arm, like we were a singular entity. He would escort me everywhere, never once being late and always ready for some form of contact. I would be with him every moment I wasn’t with my grandsire.

Many ladies in the court once asked me how long it would be until we were married. I assured them that there was no possibility in that happening, but they were convinced. They said that not even their own husbands doted on them the way Aemond would dote on me. But they were always so ridiculous sounding I never gave them any mind.

We had always considered ourselves just children in a game. We were better, smarter, more talented than other players. Never did something so trivial as the gossip at courts ever stop us. But now I wonder if maybe we should’ve stopped.

“You look beautiful in that color, Y/N,” he told me as we began walking towards the gardens. This was our route every time. From my chambers, through the gardens, past the training yard, then to the Dragon Pit.

“Why am I the only one you speak to with such affection?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow. I tried to ignore the people we passed by who stopped to stare at me.

“Yet you do not respond with even half as much,” he said to me as he pulled me closer into his side. He seemed to also be aware of everyone staring.

“What is the purpose of this, Aem?” I asked him. “No longer are we children playing a game. We cannot continue as though we are only friends.”

“But we are friends,” he pointed out as we stepped out into the gardens where nobody seemed to exist.

This was one place in the Red Keep I always felt I belonged. Surrounded by flowers of brilliant blues, reds, pinks, and yellows dotting the otherwise green landscape here. The pink peonies were always very beloved by Alicent. The yellow hydrangeas were Mother’s favorite. Helaena always preferred looking for the bugs that inhabited the ground, so much so I had once destroyed the stores of garden soil they used to kill the bugs. They stopped using it when they realized It was me.

“You are in love with me,” I reminded him. Aemond chuckled at my words as he picked a purple hyacinth and put it in my hair beside the flower Mother had stuck there earlier.

“And if I remember correctly, our last night together was spent with you telling me the names of our no less than four children and all of their dragons,” he said with a smirk.

He spoke as though it were the simplest thing in the world. As though he and I were able to marry for love rather than duty. His words ignored the fact I was to marry Jace and become his queen, that my place in this world was to support my twin. It had been decided a long time ago.

“We were fooling ourselves thinking we could ever be together,” I whispered as I stopped walking. Though the knot in my throat that formed as I spoke those words made my voice sound weak and unsure.

“You are fooling yourself if you truly believe that you love Jacaerys enough to toss aside what you and I share.”

I let out a huff of annoyance. He was always so sure that he was right. He spoke so absolutely that almost anyone would believe him.

“And you think I love you enough to toss aside my duty?” I asked him.

There wasn’t enough time for me to process what he did before I was in the position. A look to make sure we were truly alone and then I was pulled into an alcove we had discovered long ago, hidden behind bushes that nobody ever looked twice at. It was small and dark, but always held room for the two of us.

“You scream my name in our nights together. You tell me over and over how you love me as you cum around me. You begged for us to go away, find someone to marry us in Valyrian tradition before you could be forced to marry him,” he whispered in my ear. “You cannot act as though you do not love me enough. Time has changed many things, but I can assure you that our love for one another is not one of them.”

“Aemond,” I whispered cautiously when he ran his fingers over the low neckline of my dress. “That was all before I was betrothed formally.”

“I wish for you to be my wife. Do not expect me to give up on that so easily,” he told me.

My heart was pounding so hard against my chest I was sure he could hear it. Maybe my mother had a point. Time had been so cruel, ripping me away from everyone I knew and loved. Maybe I should allow myself some time to play the game the way I wish to.

And Aemond was electrifying in all of the right ways. He was irresistibly handsome, almost intoxicatingly so. There was something about him that assured every bone in my body that no harm would come to me as long as I was with him.

Further than that, I loved him. Put aside the promise of safety that he had always provided and I still loved him. I had known it when he would stay with me all night as I prayed to every god in the world that my egg would finally hatch. I had known it when he pulled me out of bed to come with him the night he claimed Vhagar because I was the only one he wanted to share the moment with. When he lost his eye during the resulting fight with my brothers and cousins, I had cried for the rest of the night because I had failed to protect him the way he always protected me. And when grandsire sent for me to join him at the Red Keep, I jumped at the opportunity simply because I would be with Aemond. I loved Aemond with my entire being.

“I am still betrothed to Jace. Your desire to marry me does not change that,” I whispered even though it broke my heart.

“You can! You think I don’t remember that your mother has always given you a choice? That you got to choose whether she named you heir or Jacaerys? You have a choice, more than anyone else ever has,” he all but shouted.

There was not a doubt in my mind that he would back off if I told him I did not want him. If I made it clear that my reasons for denying him were more about how I felt rather than about duty, he wouldn’t question it for a second. My wants and desires were placed above his in regards to us. It was one of the many ways I was certain he loved me.

While I couldn’t lie to him that I did not want him, I also couldn’t decide anything without speaking to Jace. He deserved that.

“I will speak to Jace. Only after will I decide anything,” I said.

Only after several moments of silence did my words have any sway in him. It seemed that promise was enough for him as he pressed a small kiss to my forehead before exiting the alcove, gesturing me to follow. And while it may have been a better idea to leave his company, there wasn’t anything I could do to avoid taking his arm in mine and walking with him.

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

The Stronger Desires

So, starting off strong, we're doing the request for @cantchoosejust1 first, who lovingly requested a femme fatale reader.

Now, I haven't written anything like this, so hopefully you enjoy my spin on things.

Now, let's see exactly what happens with these two.

*Side note, I may have a poll later regarding a pfp change, just to see everyone's thoughts.*

Warnings: Cursing, canon like violence, sexual innuendos, perhaps even fluff, Female reader

The gif is unfortunately not mine, and Tumblr didn't wanna work with me, so it's from Pinterest.

Anywho

Arthur wished, truly, that he could explain exactly how he ended up in this spot, but honestly he'd be just as lost as whoever he was telling the story too.

The night had started off pretty good in all honesty. The gang had been celebrating, enjoying their success on the last job they'd managed to pull off, drinking, laughing, and causing problems for everyone else around them in the saloon.

The place had been lively. Hell, even Arthur had ACTUALLY been having fun.

The biggest smile on his face as he took a seat in the far corner to catch his breath from all the dancing and singing he'd been doing, which he was sure had made him look like an absolute fool.

He chuckles to himself as he quietly lights a cigarette and places it between his lips.

The Saint Denis saloon was...surprisingly more lively than what he'd expected it to be. Rich folks sure knew how to party properly.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots something, a brightly colored dress, not out of the norm for this place, but, for some reason, this one seemed...different.

He turned his head to look, and he was honestly surprised he managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth with the way it nearly fell open.

The woman wearing the dress was far prettier than the actual dress itself.

A gorgeous face, and absolutely wonderful hair as well.

The only part that didn't quite make much sense to him was the fact that you were all over a fat aristocrat. Balding with an awful mustache, but you seemed to be rather excited to stand next to him.

He couldn't quite understand it, how absolutely stunning you are, yet you're following a man like that around.

It boggled him.

The night continued, as they usually do, but now that he'd seen you, Arthur couldn't quite stop staring at you.

You were absolutely beautiful. You were...stunning, and it was damn near impossible for him to focus on much else.

It was hard not to when they man you were clinging too was a big as a house, and being followed around by at least four body guards.

What he was doing in a saloon he'd never know.

It's pretty late at night when things really start to get confusing for Arthur. It's about here that he'd be a little...confused when trying to retell the tale.

Due to the confusing nature of it all as well as all the apple pie moonshine in his system.

Things seem to be going smoothly, until all the sudden the entire saloon is screaming rather than singing.

Instinct takes over and Arthur's hand grabs the butt of his pistol before he realizes exactly what's going on.

The crowd quickly disperses, and it's then that Arthur realizes exactly what happened.

You, you're what happened.

There, on the floor is the aristocrat, though he's much less lively now that there's a bullet wound through his head.

How the hell he hadn't heard the shot he still didn't grasp.

The body guards all surround...you.

Arthur almost jumped up right then and there to defend you. He could take out all four of them in a matter of seconds, and he knew that, but right as he contemplates it he watches you pull a revolver out from under your dress.

The evening suddenly got much more interesting.

"Back off! Or I'll kill you too, that fat bastard had more money than he needed anyway, and if he'd put his hand up my skirt one more time he was gonna die in a much worse way, so be fucking GRATEFUL!"

Arthur nearly laughs out loud at the venom in your voice. It was...well it wasn't funny actually, it was more...attractive to him than anything.

For a moment you make eye contact with him, and it's a strange sensation, the way the two of you seem to talk with your eyes.

Arthur gives you a soft nod, a small smirk on his face and then he nods towards the saloon doors.

You give a nod in return and Arthur takes it as his que to leave discreetly.

It's only a moment later when you exit the saloon at a sprint, and Arthur holds his hand out for you to grab as he sits atop his horse, a black Shire.

You take his hand and he hoists you up easily, as if you weigh nothing at all.

The moment you're on his horse he takes off, the remaining guards rushing out of the saloon too.

It's only seconds after that, that the sound of the lawmen's whistles can be heard. One of the patrons must have reported the gunshot.

You hold onto Arthur for dear life, an arm around his torso and the other holding out your revolver.

"Nice to meet you mister! I take it you aren't exactly a friend of the government either?"

"No ma'am!"

Arthur laughs at the absurdity of it and keeps riding hard as the lawmen start to gather behind the two of you.

"Quick on your feet back there!"

He states, taking a turn down an alleyway that appeared to be just big enough.

"Thanks, you too, saw you reach for your gun!"

You chuckle to yourself.

"Don't exactly look the rich type. In fact, don't look like the Saint Denis type. I take it you might be in the uh...'bodyguard' business."

"If ya mean shootin' fools who deserve it, then yes, I am."

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Arthur Morgan."

"Y/N L/N."

"Nice to meet ya. Let's get the hell outta here."

Arthur did his best to do just that, out running the law as quickly as he could get his poor horse to go.

Finally after quite some time the two of you make it into the woods, just outside Saint Denis, the sound of the lawmen steadily fading.

You're nearly out of the woods, metaphorically of course, when a stump seems to have other ideas.

Arthur and you both go flying off the horse, and directly into the mud below.

It's dark as hell and Arthur has no clue exactly where he is, and you just barely do.

Both of you are covered in mud and Arthur's horse: Mayhem, is currently writhing on the ground attempting to right itself.

You sit up in the mud, scoffing and trying to wipe mud off your face as Arthur does the same.

"Christ Alive..."

Arthur groans, flicking his arm downwards, trying to get the mud off.

You do the same, looking at him with a look of disgust on your face, only for a moment, before you start laughing.

"Well, Mr. Morgan, how very kind of you to dump me in the mud like this."

"Well I didn't mean-"

You laugh and stand up, before you tear off your skirt, now soiled with mud, to reveal your pants underneath it.

"I needed to get that thing off anyway, I was about tired of it."

You reach your hand out, and Arthur takes it, a sort of sheepish grin on his face.

"Well, glad ya ain't too mad at me."

"Nah...you ain't crossed the line just yet cowboy."

Arthur laughs this time and pulls his hand away to run it over his stubble in an attempt to try and get the rest of the mud off.

"I'll be stinkin' for weeks with this stuff, even if I take a damn bath at the hotel."

He sighs and takes his hat off, wiping mud off the brim.

He looks up at you.

"So...Miss L/N...You...sure seem more than capable of takin' care of yourself...I assume you got somewhere you can hide out for a bit until the law gets off you?"

"Course I do."

You laugh and step closer. You take the hat from his hand and gently place it back on his head, pressing your hand to his chest in the process.

"All worried about me there, Mr. Morgan?"

"Worried? No. Curious? Yes."

You offer yet another chuckle and then step around him, letting your hand travel over his shoulder, gently taking it away as you step closer to his horse, and offer it an apple from your bag that had been hidden beneath your dress.

"Well Mr. Morgan...if you're so interested, I suppose you'll have to bump into me again sometime soon, won't you? After all you did save me back there...even if you threw me into the mud afterwards."

"Hey I said-"

"So defensive."

You tease and step back towards him, you flick his hat, making it tilt upwards slightly.

"Send me a letter sometime Mr. Morgan...I could use someone like you for some of my...endeavors. If you're willing that is."

"Depends...You ain't gonna make me dress up and sing the can can are you?"

"No, I wasn't but...now I might."

You laugh and look towards Saint Denis' in the distance.

"Well...Mr. Morgan, if you could do me a favor and drop me off near Rhodes...I think I'd be forever in your debt."

Before Arthur could really register it, that's exactly where he was, stopped in front of the Rhodes train station, holding something you'd given him as he watched you climb onto the train.

A heavy locket, sat in his palm, as well as a handkerchief you'd insisted on giving him, with your initials sewed into the corner of it.

You smile at him, and wave from your seat as the train pulls away, and something within Arthur tells him that it won't be the last time that he sees you.

He couldn't quite remember exactly how he'd managed to end up here. In all complete honesty, the only thing he really knew for certain was that you were....something, that was for sure. Spitfire and kick to you.

He'd see you again. he'd make sure of it.

Okay, so, like I said, this is slightly different than what I write, not by much, but it is a little different, so I hope it was good, and I hope that you enjoyed it! As always, I'm always happy to rewrite something if it doesn't hit the spot just right!

[unlikely-gravestones]

We’re going to talk about the 1889 meeting. Why? because I’m back on my bullshit after drawing this, and am not done dissecting the episode quite yet.

I want to begin where it all starts going wrong, which in my opinion, is when Dream tells Hob Lushing Lou’s real name. By doing this, Dream inadvertently reveals more of his inhuman nature (knowing the real name and backstory of a person he’s never met). Hob looks at him and says “How do you know all that?”, and Dream deflects by looking down at Hob’s cup and responding with “Your cup is empty, you need more wine.”

Hob doesn’t take the bait. Instead he continues, “You knew Lady Johanna, you know Lushing Lou, you know everyone, don’t you?”. He pushes Dream, because Hob only has scraps of information after centuries of meeting with the man and he wants to know more. Every time they meet he shares his whole being with His Stranger, shares entire lives he’s lived and names hes taken. He’s seen Hob at his best and his worst, and what does Hob know in turn? that he’s immortal like him? that he has some weird sand that subdues people? and now, apparently, that he knows everyone and the life they’ve lived? Still, Dream deflects; “Saw her again, you know.”

And Hob gives in.

I love how he just looks at Dream for a second, then smiles almost bitterly at the table and puts his cigar down before looking back up and indulging Dream. He see’s that this line of conversation will get him no where, that His Stranger is avoiding this subject and will continue to do so whether Hob joins him in that or not. So Hob looks down at the table in acceptance, as if he didn’t expect to get anywhere with his statements but was disappointed nonetheless, and looks back up with a small smile to indulge Dreams avoidance.

But Hob doesn’t let go of it.

When Dream tells him that Lady Johanna undertook a task for him and succeeded, Hob again highlights the fact that he knows practically nothing about His Stranger- albeit in a more straightforward way.

“That might be the only thing I’ve learnt after 500 years.”

To me it feels like Hob doesn’t care about the information itself- Lady Johanna doing anything some 100, 50, 20 years ago means nothing to Hob right now. Its who the information is coming from, what it represents. Dream might have avoided divulging why he knew so many people’s names and stories, and Hob might have temporarily allowed him to, but he had never truly dropped the subject. And the way he looks- Hob naturally smiles a lot, and even now he can’t stop the way his lips quirk despite it being at his own self-deprecation. You can see it written all over his face here and in the above sequence when he puts his cigar down; the humourless way he smiles at his own misfortune.

But Hob is nothing if not persevering, so he brightens up the mood, talks about how people are almost always better than you think they are.

(i just thought this was a nice pic, sorry)

We could also read him opening up to Dream (talking about his mistakes, learning from them even though it feels like it doesn’t stop him from making them- perhaps a little foreshadowing for whats about to come next) as a way of trying to get Dream himself to open up. He is honest with Dream, as he always has been, in the hopes that tonight is the night His Stranger becomes a little more honest with him (though with our current track record of the night, this doesn’t seem likely, but as Hob says...he cant seem to stop making mistakes, and i wonder if this is something he thinks often of himself when Dream fails to meet him in 1989).

Dream looks at him like this:

And maybe its that not-quite smile he gives Hob after his honesty, that emboldens him to say “I think it’s you that’s changed,”. And this, my friends, is where shit well and truly hits the fan. Because suddenly that small smile is gone, though not in anger yet, and Dream asks “How so?”

We all know what happens next. Hob, correctly, supplies the idea that the reason Dream continues to meet him every century, despite them both knowing at this point that Hob will never give up on life, is because His Stranger seeks friendship. Hob understands, of course he does; Dream is the only living constant Hob has, he’s already referred to Dream as his friend because to Hob, that’s what he is- regardless of how much he does or doesn’t know about the man. This is of course when the iconic “YyOUU dAAREREeee,,.,..1..1.1....,,,,.” scene happens, and Hob briefly tries to backtrack. He averts his eyes immediately and looks at the table (a recurring staple in avoidance tonight), gesturing with his hand as he says “No, look, I’m not saying-”, as if trying to explain it any better would make Dream accept it. I like that he seems to backtrack just a little bit, only to double down on it a few moments later. He put himself out there a bit by boldly stating that Dream sought companionship with him, that His Stranger was lonely, and it was evidently ill-received so he backpedals to reduce the damage of his words.

Yet when Dream says “You dare suggest one such as i might need your companionship?”, Hob simply looks at him and says yes. Yes, because he does, and this night has been a sequence of Hob pushing and relenting on what he actually wants to talk about so of course this is the moment he pushes.

And when Dream stands up? When Hob stands? When Hob moves forward?

I don’t know why he moved forward, why he took that step closer to Dream- what was he planning on doing? reaching out and touching him? simply standing closer as if it might keep His Stranger with him for just a few minutes? give him just enough time to talk some sense into the man? I don’t know, but i love it nonetheless.

And when Dream leaves, when Hob chases him. When he doesn’t tell His Stranger that he didn’t need him anyway, doesn’t say good luck finding someone else who understands- but instead says that he’ll wait. That he’ll still be there, 100 years later, because they’re friends and because Hob has faith in him, in them. That if Dream shows up, it’ll be because they are friends.

When he stands there, and quietly but with feeling says “...Fuck.”

Yeah. Good episode.