#only three weeks left until we the release of

[living-the-dream-yall]

I want her.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {3} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.

“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.

“No.”

You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”

It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”

You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”

“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”

You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”

“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”

Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”

For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”

“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”

You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”

“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”

“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”

He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”

Lockdown: Week Sixteen

“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.

It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.

“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.

“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”

Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”

You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”

Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.

You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.

Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”

The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.

“It’s Charlotte.”

You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.

“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.

“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”

Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”

Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.

“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”

“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”

You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.

Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.

Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.

You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.

“You should be asleep.”

His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”

You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”

His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”

Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”

“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.

The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.

He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.

“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”

Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.

“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.

“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”

“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”

You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”

His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”

Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”

His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.

“Did Peter teach you to cook?”

Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”

The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”

You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.

“Worked with me.”

“But you’re weird.”

Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”

You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”

She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”

Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”

You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”

That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 

You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.

Lockdown: Week Seventeen

You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.

“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.

“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”

You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.

“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.

“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.

“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.

“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.

“Home!”

You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.

Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”

The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.

“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”

“You planned all that?”

He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”

He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”

You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.

“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.

“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”

The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.

“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.

“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.

You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 

“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 

“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 

“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.

“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”

You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 

A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 

Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 

“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 

Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”

“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.

“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”

Click here for the next part.

[ssahotchnerr]

Aaron and reader on their daughter’s first day of preschool 🥺 aaron is super protective and is like “why can’t we homeschool her??”

baby steps

THAT'S ADORABLE cw; fem!reader, girl!dad aaron, brief mentions of food, reader and aaron are married

when it came to baby girl hotchner starting school - a feat that once felt like was forever away - you assumed aaron would be the pillar of strength, especially after going through the same with jack a few years ago. you would have bet money he would've been the one persuading you out of the house, tossing reassurances left and right, getting you to smile through the tears; the voice of reason.

but, you were wrong.

from the moment your daughter was laid in aaron's arms, she wholeheartedly and completely had him wrapped around her little finger. and so the morning of her first day, aaron, the ever prompt riser, seemed to get out of bed much slower than usual. he was going to the office a bit late so he could see her off to school, but even on his days off would he be up before his alarm.

shockingly, and perhaps for the very first time since you have known him, aaron had hit snooze. just once, though, for five minutes.

likewise he sluggishly had gotten ready for the day, and now he was merely a shadow - following you around until it was time to wake the kiddos up.

"sweetheart?"

"hm?" you hummed in question, sealing the ziploc containing jack's sandwich.

"look at this."

after securing the bag into jack's lunch box, you glanced in aaron's direction, only to find him holding up her tiny, purple backpack. on his face, the most broken hearted expression there ever was.

"can't we homeschool her?" aaron asked, his voice the equivalent to a whine.

"yeah." you snorted out a laugh, grabbing another baggie for baby girl's snack. "with all the free time we have."

he continued to silently poke around as you finished preparing jack's lunch. it was only a matter of time until he found something else to mournfully point out.

"honey." next in hand, her brand new pair of sneakers (a small pair of pink converse, courtesy of uncle spencer) which looked absolutely minuscule in those hands of his.

"they're just shoes. she has how many pairs?" you teased gently, fighting the urge to succumb to tears yourself, courtesy of your husband.

"they're school shoes."

"you better quit it, or you're going to make me cry." with your index finger, you indicated for aaron to come. once he was in reach, you pulled him to you, wrapping your arms around his middle.

aaron instinctively placed a kiss on the top of your head, mumbling into your hair afterwards. "our little girl is growing up, isn't she?"

"she'll only be gone for three hours. three times a week at that." you toyed with his tie soothingly, and he released a deep sigh. "she'll still be your little girl when she gets back, i promise."

the look on his face was still utterly unconvinced - head cocked a bit to the side, eyebrows pulled, his lips almost begging to retake shape of his previous pout.

"now c'mon, let's go get our bugs up for their first day." you gave aaron an enthusiastic smile, to which he couldn't help but smile back - your smile was his weakness - releasing your hold on him.

but at the loss of contact, and at the next action at hand, a small groan escaped him. as you trekked up the stairs, you peered behind, making sure he was following you.

he was, and mumbling under his breath.

"god how am i going to survive when she's off to kindergarten?"

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 1) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: thank you to everyone who has encouraged me in my development of this series! it's three parts long, and each part will be posted one week after the one before it. that means you get chapter 2 next week, and chapter 3 two weeks from now. and after chapter 3 is released, i will post the full fic in one single post, so that it's easier to read. this series means a lot to me, it's the longest fic I've ever finished for this account, and I would really love to hear what you think of it. Thank you to the love of my life miss jade (@luveline), for being the first person to read this (!!), and for all of your wonderful feedback that cheered me on as I crossed the finish line for this series. I don't think I would have finished it if it wouldn't have been for your support, so thank you sweetpea <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

It’s 11:14 AM when you get the call. Your phone buzzes ballistically beneath your pillow, where you’d stuffed it haphazardly last night somewhere close to 4 AM. For the record, you’d only slept because your eyes hurt from being open for so long. You’re certain that, after what you’d done, you deserved to ache for eternity, but you’d succumbed to sleep when it pulled hard enough at you.

Raising the phone to your ear is a chore, especially because the number on the screen is unrecognizable, but you stretch your tired, bed-ridden limbs and hold the cool glass screen to your face. It’s jarring, and you long for the stuffy warmth of the pillow again.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/N Mitchell?” It’s a man’s voice, deep and strong through the receiver. It’s no-nonsense, and you almost worry that you’ve misfiled your taxes, that someone from the IRS is tracking you down.

“That’s me,” You rub sleep out of your left eye, harder than necessary so that your vision is blurry when you open your eye again. You’re not very gentle with yourself these days.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. He’s currently a patient at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He was brought in at 9:37 AM this morning when his jet malfunctioned mid-exercise, and he crashed into a canyon below.”

Your heart stops. 

Your cheeks get hot, your hands start to tingle, and your stomach feels like it’s going to start turning cartwheels, sloshing your insides around until you vomit what little you’ve eaten.

Bradley’s dead, you think, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead.

“We were able to airlift him out, and he’s stabilized now-” Bradley’s not dead,  “-but he’s still unconscious. His parents are here, as well as your father, if you’d like to join them.”

It takes a long time for you to speak. It’s almost a full minute, and the man on the other end has to call your name to get you to respond.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“I’ll be there,” You blurt, heaving a shaky breath as you seal a hand over your mouth. You part your fingers only to make sure he hears you clearly as you confirm, “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive and stable.” The man informs you, “He’ll recover, Miss Mitchell.”

Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead.

“I’ll be there,” You repeat, and for the first time in almost 36 hours, you kick the crappy motel blankets off of your legs and stand, “Thank you, sir.”

--

Wearing a bra again after two weeks of lazing around in bed is awful. But you’ll do it for Bradley, if only to make up for the last thing you’d said to him.

“I can’t love you anymore!” Rings in your ears, and a vision of Bradley’s hands reaching desperately for you flashes through your mind, covering up the green light ahead of you.

Someone honks behind you, a BMW. You jolt to attention, stepping on the gas and jerking into the intersection.

Easy, you chide yourself, You’re going to the hospital to visit a patient, not to be one.

You’re able to pull into the hospital’s parking lot without nearly causing any more car crashes, and you briefly wonder if you should take the coward’s way out again as you trek over the asphalt towards the hospital. You’d run two weeks ago, why not now? Why not now, when what you’d been worried about that night has actually happened?

Urged by the regret flooding your veins since fleeing, you walk on, stepping through the automatic doors of the hospital and sidling up to the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Bradley Bradshaw,” You inform the nurse there, “Uh- Lieutenant. If that… helps.”

She sends you a kind smile, filled with sympathy that you’re thankful for as you stammer and stumble your way through speaking. You’re sure you’re not the most distraught person here, and you’re guiltily thankful for that. 

“Room 624,” The nurse tells you, and oh, what a sick coincidence, “Down the hall and to the left, take the elevator up and follow the arrows on the floor.”

6/24 is not only Bradley’s birthday, but your anniversary; the day you’d kissed him on the swings in his backyard with hot fudge sticking to your lips. He’d been glum about his dad missing his birthday on deployment, and, of course, your dad couldn’t be there either. Carole had done her best to brighten up her boy, but some things couldn’t be mended with gift wrap, and you all knew that.

You’d snuck out to join him that night with a sundae, offering him the serving spoon thickly coated in the chocolate. He’d accepted it with a huffy eye roll, upset that you’d managed to cheer him up even a little bit with just one spoon of ice cream.

--

“It sucks,” Bradley mutters around the chocolate in his mouth, the syrup sticking his words together, “I know he can’t do anything about it. But I still want him here.”

“I know,” You hum, taking a bite of ice cream for yourself, “I’m sorry, Brad. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably get you something, like, really good when he gets back. He’ll feel all guilty, that’s what my dad did and I got a puppy out of it.”

“We’ve already got a puppy,” Bradley gestures to the Bradshaw’s family dog, well on in years by the gray around his muzzle and his tendency to nap instead of move.

“Maybe you’ll get one that you can actually play with,” You offer Bradley another bite of the ice cream, and you only feel a little bad for making fun of Lewis. But the dog doesn’t understand your teasing, softly snoring on the porch.

“Maybe he’ll get me a car,” Bradley gushes, “A bitchin’ one, like a Bronco or something. Then we can put our surfboards in the back and go to the beach.”

“You don’t even have a license!” You elbow Bradley, laughing at his lofty dreams, “But a Bronco would be cool. You should send your dad a magazine clipping of one with your next letter and talk about how cool it is.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Bradley muses, a smear of chocolate over his lower lip that he doesn’t lick away.

You scoff, stomping on his foot where it’s planted in the grass beside your own. He jolts away with a yelp, and in doing so, jerks the swing he’s sitting on, He catches his balance and you notice the syrup on his lip, reaching out to clean it with your thumb.

“You’ve got hot fudge on your face, doofus,” You sneer, happy to return his teasing, “You eat like a toddler.”

“I’m not the one who put three cups of it on the sundae!” Bradley insists, and his lower lip catches your thumb as he speaks. Teenagers in love, you’re hyperaware of touches like that, and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. He notices it too, staring down wide-eyed at where your thumb hovers over his lips.

“Sorry,” He blurts, and in doing so, his warm breath fans over your hand. You jerk it away, eyes on the ground as you mumble away his concerns.

“It’s fine,” You mutter in a terrible attempt to remain nonchalant, “We’re not four, it’s not like I think you’ve got cooties or something.’

Bradley takes to the teasing, glad it’s not tense anymore, “That’s not what you say when I leave my underwear on the floor.”

“‘Cause that’s gross!” You launch into a rant, “That’s, like, personal! And they’re used too,” You shudder, handing him the sundae intent on scrubbing a hand over your face, “Nasty, bro.”

Despite your casual nickname for the boy beside you, you feel like anything but bros when his hand brushes yours. He takes the ice cream from you, and his hand half-closes around your own, sending a spark shooting up your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat again and this time Bradley hears it, looking at you through his lashes with those wide brown eyes.

Neither of you move away this time, frozen just like the treat in your joint grip.

You feel extra affection for the boy next to you today, the shared grief of losing your fathers every few months bringing you closer together. It’s what compels you to lean in, tilting your swing sideways to brush your lips over his own in a painfully awkward teenage-style kiss. Before you have the time to panic about whether you did the right thing, Bradley reciprocates, pursing his lips slightly to fit them around your top one. You follow his lead and it goes much better, a chaste kiss that’s sweeter than the chocolate staining your lips.

--

You’re glad you’d kissed him that day, you’re glad you had the balls to take the leap that resulted in a nearly twenty year long relationship. It would have been twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-five, fifty if you hadn’t chickened out two weeks ago, but you try not to think about that in the elevator lest you make yourself sick.

You find room 624 easily, the painted arrows on the floor leading you down the hallway that the room stands in. You wonder if you should knock first, you’re not too knowledgeable on hospital etiquette, but you decide that manners can be damned, your boyfriend- ex-boyfriend is in there.

You turn the handle and step inside, and Carole looks up from Bradley’s bedside immediately. You think she’s expecting a doctor, and her desperation for finding one breaks your heart. Her teary face splits into a sad smile, and she rushes to your side to envelop you in a hug. You let her have it because she’s grieving over her son, but you’re surprised she’s not immediately angry with you for breaking up with Bradley.

“Honey,” She gushes into your shoulder, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here! Brad’s gonna be okay, they said he’s just gonna need some help breathing until he gets stable. Then they can get him healthy and ready to go again!”

“That’s great,” You hold her close, relishing the last Bradshaw hug you’ll probably ever get, “Where’s Nick and dad?”

“Oh, they went to get food,” Carole releases you, swatting her hand in the air in an affectionately teasing manner, “You know those boys, always hungry for something.”

You laugh awkwardly, watching as she settles down by Bradley’s bedside again. She looks back up at you where you’re swaying on your feet, gesturing to the chair beside her, “Well come on, girl! Get in here!” She seems much more lively now that she has company, and you hate to think of her grieving her injured son alone.

“Oh- I, uh,” You stammer, darting for the seat beside her, “I wasn’t sure if-”

“Don’t worry,” She seems to misplace your concern, “He’s okay, sweetie-pie, you won’t hurt him just by breathin’ on him.”

“Right,” You smile, though its disingenuous with tension, “Um, so it was a mid-exercise crash?”

“Mhm,” Her face dims slightly, “Apparently there was some freak accident with one of the engines, 'set off the whole thing. And that’s two crashes in one week! First it was that Javy boy, I tell you, I think they should vet those engineers better. I mean, aren’t they supposed to catch that stuff beforehand?”

“Yeah,” You feel partially numb, but you’re not sure whether it’s emotional or physical. You’ve been trying to avoid looking at Bradley so far, using his bubbly, bouncing mom as a distraction, but now that the blonde has settled beside you your eyes drift. 

He could be perceived as sleeping, if the color wasn’t drained from his face. His skin is still tan but it’s duller now, golden brown fading to a sickly, colder shade of it, like there’s no life beneath it. His eyes are shut and there’s a breathing tube up his nose; you wonder how pissed he’ll be when he wakes up to find out they’ve had to trim his mustache around the thing.

“Must be a Bradshaw family tradition,” Carole breaks your concentration, laughing weakly, her voice lined with a hint of tears, “Crashing, scarin’ their girls half to death.”

You remember the day of Goose’s crash like it was yesterday. You’d only been three at the time, freshly so. But grief like that, the panic you’d observed, doesn’t go away. It can’t be forgotten, it can’t drift out of your brain like so many memories do with age. You and Bradley had sat together in the hospital with Carole and your dad, and Nick still had the crummy plane drawings you’d done for him while waiting for him to wake up.

Carole’s usage of the phrase ‘their girls’ unnerves you. She’s been exceptionally nice to you so far, especially considering that she’s fiercely protective of Bradley, and should have kicked you halfway to Mars for ditching him like you’d done. But she’s leaning towards you in her chair, and you come to the dreadful realization that she doesn’t know you’ve broken up with Bradley.

“Now, I know you wanted to keep things hush-hush,” She gushes, happy to look at your animated face instead of Bradley’s still one for a moment. She reaches over to brace her hands on your knees, leaning eagerly into your space, “But I have to know, babycakes, how did it go?”

“Hm?” You look dazedly at her, still partially staring at Bradley.

“The proposal!” She squeezes your hands, sniffling weakly with the remnants of tears past, “I know that boy was finally manning up enough to ask you, 'should'a put a ring on you years ago."

Any other time, you'd groan at Carole's opinion on your relationship. She's been urging the two of you to tie the knot for decades, but you'd felt no burning desire to go to the courthouse. You were comfortable in your life, why spend an obscene amount of money to get a piece of paper that tells you you're in love? You knew that for free, in the way that Bradley looked at you, in the way that he memorized all of your fast food orders, in the way that his hand so often found yours beneath the sheets in his sleep. Now her teasing is a sore spot, one that gapes the wound already bleeding in your chest.

"-But when I asked him how it went he said he’d ‘share the details later’. I’m sure you wanted to make some big announcement or something, but I need this right now, honey, tell me what happened.”

She’s staring at you like she always has, like you’re the sweet little girl she helped raise when your mama had chickened out. Cowardice must run in the family.

There’s such pretty hope shining in her eyes that you can’t bear to crush it, ready to spew lies about how glorious Bradley’s proposal had gone, how you’d fallen to your knees to kiss him, how you’d shouted ‘yes!’ from the rooftops. Fortunately, you don’t have to lie to her, because the door opens and your dad and Nick step through.

“Hey,” Your dad cheers, tossing you a plastic-wrapped sandwich, “There you are, honey. I was worried you weren’t gonna show up, ‘thought you’d be mad at him or something.”

“You know she was mad at me when we went down?” Goose gestures to Carole incredulously, and you can’t see behind his sunglasses but you know he’s addressing you, “I wasn’t even flying the damn thing and I got lectured!”

He lets up, goes easy on Carole, you’re sure because he’d had to comfort her earlier. You see a slightly dark, damp patch on the left side of his Hawaiian shirt as he leans in to hug you, probably her tears.

“Good to see ‘ya, kid,” Nick rubs your back, “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, voice slightly shaky as you smooth your previously-folded hands down your thighs. The movement catches Carole’s attention, and you look away before you can see her reaction to your bare ring finger.

“He’ll be fine,” Goose leans over to slap Bradley’s calf, and Carole looks like she wants to scold him for it, as if he'll die right then and there, “He’s tough just like’is daddy.”

“His daddy should go get me some tea,” Carole huffs, placing her hand over Bradley’s as if it would make up for Nick’s slap, “And take Maverick with you, I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Oh, again-?” Goose grumbles, setting his lunch on one of the plastic chairs around Bradley’s bed, “You could’a told me that before we left, honey.”

“Didn’t want it until now,” Carole insists, “Now shoo, get some for Y/N, too.”

The second the door shuts behind the two men, a stiff silence falls over the room.

Carole’s sweet voice breaks it, but it’s the last thing you want to hear, “Where’s the ring?”

You stare at the sandwich in your lap, like it’ll open face and read like a book, giving you instructions on how to lie your way through this.

“I know he asked you,” She presses on, voice pitched up with tension, “I- I gave him the ring Nick used to propose to me. That was almost a month ago. We swapped it out for a wedding band, and- and I thought Bradley could use the engagement ring for you, too. I know he asked you.”

“Carole,” You can’t bear to look her in the eyes, not the woman who’d fed you macaroni and cheese when your dad was halfway around the world in a fighter jet and tucked you in extra tight during a rainstorm so that the lightning couldn't sneak through the gaps in the blankets to get you.

“No, tell me, where is the ring?” She raises her voice, the way she used to when Bradley would leave his scooter out in the rain to rust, “Just tell me-” Her voice peters out into a weak whimper, “-tell me you didn’t say no.”

“I’m a coward,” You finally mutter as her answer, hateful and wicked, “I got scared. I wish I’d said yes, really, I- I wish I could take it back, but-”

“What did you do?” Her face crumples at your admission and she nearly shrieks, squeezing her hand tighter over Bradley’s, “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I said no!” You sob, chest heaving as you wipe away a tear from your eye heavy-handed, “I was scared, Carole. After Coyote went down,” You blearily recall the last plane crash you’d heard about, a member of Bradley’s own squadron caught in a bird strike. He’d been fine, but waiting for the news took you right back to your youth, and you’d been hit with the striking realization that it could happen to Bradley, too. It could be you in that chair, it could be your love on the line. You’d been so sick with dread that you’d backed away altogether, running away to preserve your emotions.

“I just- I didn’t want it to happen to Bradley,” You confess, “I didn’t want it to happen to me. So when he asked, I was-” You sniffle, hard, “I was so scared. I didn’t want to marry him and then lose him. For some reason this-” You suppress a sob, throat aching and chest heaving, “-dating a pilot is different than marrying one. Dating is- it’s temporary, even if you plan on it lasting forever. It’s less serious, it’s not set in stone. But marriage-” You hiccup, “-marriage is the real deal. It's like- It's like I was dating Bradley, y'know, the teenage boy who took me to homecoming because I was sad no one asked me. But- but then all of a sudden I was marrying an aviator. And that’s- that was scary! That was real. I- we’d been together for twenty years!” You gush, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “I should have known marriage wouldn’t be any different. It’s not like we ever thought we’d break up,” You sniffle weakly, “Marriage was always sort of silly to me, 'cause we just thought we'd be together forever regardless. But I never realized how real it would feel. So I- I freaked out. When he asked me, I made up some stupid excuse, and I chickened out! But-” Your chest heaves with a sob as you finally lift your eyes to Bradley, “He crashed anyway. He went down even though I said no, and it still hurts.” You cry, face scrunched in despair, “It hurts so bad, Carole, I didn’t think it would still hurt.”

“You fool,” She huffs exasperatedly, but she reaches out to clutch your hand like a lifeline. She’s holding Bradley’s with her other, and you wish for a moment that you could cut out the middleman and hold his hand on your own. You don't feel worthy to touch him anymore. “You don’t stop loving someone by leaving them, you stop loving them by moving on. Of course it still hurts, you didn't move on; you still love him. And- and leaving him didn’t stop him from getting hurt, it just meant he probably went down wishing he got to tell you he loved you this morning, so you'd know.”

The thought breaks you, Bradley ejecting with you on his mind. Evidently he hadn’t fully accepted your breakup, not if he hadn’t even told his mom about it. You wonder if he was planning on trying to get you back, if after work today he would have come over with flowers and a thousand pleas on his lips that you didn’t deserve.

“He loves you,” She continues, tears wetting her own cheeks, “And even if you did say somethin’ stupid, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell that boy that’d make him stop loving you. Apologize when he wakes up, baby, he’ll understand. He'll be hurt, no doubt. But he’s been scared before, too, believe me.”

“I will,” You gush, nodding as she squeezes your hand and Bradley’s in sync, “I will, I promise! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Just make it right,” She pleads, “Can’t have you two splittin’ up now, not after all this time.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” You weep, holding your hands to your eyes as if you can plug up the tears, “I- I just panicked! And I’ve been a wreck ever since, I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t-”

“Tea’s here!” The door opens, and Nick is suddenly a lot quieter as he sees you bent in half and crying, “Oh, honey.”

“C’mere,” Your dad edges around Goose, squatting by the side of your chair while Carole rubs your back. He’s always been fantastic at comforting you, which you marvel at because he was so active in his career. He wasn’t always around when you were little, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how you liked your back rubbed, your hair done, and your cookies warmed.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Your dad soothes you, wiping a tear away from your face, with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Carole promises, and you know she’s talking about something else entirely, “It’s alright honey, it’ll all work out.”

Nick feels a bit useless now, standing there with two cups of tea in his hands while everyone else comforts you, but he’s quick to notice a frown work its way onto Bradley’s sleeping face.

“Brad- hey! Look,” He gestures with one cup of tea, only spilling a tiny drop, “I think he’s wakin’ up.”

All of a sudden you want to go home. You’re not sure you can do this, you don’t belong here with his grieving family. You belong in your bed, kicking yourself for your cowardice and wishing you’d done better by him.

But there’s no time to flee now, not again. This time you have to brave it, you have to watch as his big brown eyes slowly blink open, a haze of sleep and medication clouding them over.

“Agh,” He groans, hand twitching by his side, “What-?”

“Hey, Bradley.” Nick leans over the bed, tea now set aside on a tiny table, “How y’feelin’ bud? You had quite the plane crash.”

Bradley takes a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking blearily at your dad, then you, then his mom. His eyes drift back over to you and they feel like they’re lasers, boring searing holes through your chest where your heart used to be two weeks ago.

The slow and steady beeping that had been long since tuned out slowly started to increase while Bradley regained consciousness. Your dad looked warily at the machine, watching Bradley’s heart rate rise.

“I’ll get a doctor.” He ducks out, and Carole stands.

“We should go,” She grabs Nick’s hand, looking pointedly at you, “We’ll give you a minute alone with him, honey.”

Nick starts to protest about being led away, something about how ‘-he came outta my balls! I can’t see him when he wakes up in the hospital?’ but Carole’s already corralling him to the nurse’s station in search of your father. If you weren’t so fond of the woman you’d be cursing her for sticking you alone with Bradley, but you know you can’t let yourself succumb to fear again; this time you have to be a big girl.

“Baby,” Bradley rasps, turning your attention back on him. You watch him weakly, eyes apprehensive as he reaches for your hand, “C’mere.” 

You hesitate, and he lets out a weak chuckle, “Come on, now. You’re not gonna kill me by holding my hand.”

“Bradley,” You sniffle, reaching out for his limp fingers on the bed, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” He smiles lazily, eyes drooping, “I’m okay. Comes in the job description, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” You repeat, grief-stricken as you clutch at his hand desperately, “I shouldn’t have left, I- I wish I had stayed.”

“Baby,” His brows furrow and he laughs sympathetically, “They wouldn’t have let you stay, you know that. I work on a naval base, not at a chipotle. You can’t sit with me all day. Plus, there was no way you would’ve known I was gonna go down. I’m glad you weren’t there, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that.”

All at once, your chest burns hot, blazing with panic. Is he not going to talk to you about it? Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to refuse to acknowledge what you’d said? You stammer, “What-?”

“Mr. Bradshaw!” The doctor comes in, cheery now that his patient is awake. You turn your head, still dazed and fear-stricken at Bradley’s demeanor. “Let’s see how you’re doing here. Any chest pain?”

“A little,” Bradley shifts in his bed, wincing infinitesimally.

“Probably just some discomfort due to the broken ribs. Headache?”

“Yeah,” Bradley admits with a groan, “That I’ve got.”

The doctor scribbles something down on his chart, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bradley strains to think, “I… don’t know. I don’t even-" He grimaces, "I don't even remember the crash, ‘just know it happened ‘cause he told me.”

Bradley raises a shaky finger to point at Nick, who’s happy to see his son gain some mobility back, even if he is worried for the boy. The three adults had filed back into the room after the doctor, and you pointedly avoid Carole’s imploring stare.

“Think hard,” The doctor commands, and you squeeze his hand like it’s a play-dough machine, like memories will ooze themselves into his brain in star shapes and heart cut-outs.

“I remember…” Bradley rasps, turning his hand beneath yours to grasp it, “Jake’s birthday party. That was-” He glances over at you, “-last night?”

“That was three weeks ago,” This time your heart rate is the one to rise, echoing dully in your ears like the soundtrack of a horror film, “Is that-” You sniffle, “Is that the last thing you can remember, B?”

His eyebrows raise and he tries taking in the information, “Yeah- uh, shit. Three weeks ago. What does that mean, doctor?”

“It sounds like you’ve developed post-traumatic amnesia.” The doctor scribbles once more on his paperwork, “The good news is, we think you have only a mild concussion. And amnesia induced by mild concussions typically lasts only up to a week or two at most. But there’s a very real chance you could remember everything in just a few minutes.”

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

“What I want you to do now is to rest, and we’ll have a nurse send up something to eat. Please,” The doctor eyes Nick knowingly, “Do not feed him the funyuns you’re holding behind your back.”

“Foiled again,” Goose laughs, tossing the packet of chips onto a chair beside his own lunch, “You got it, doc.”

“Alright, glad you’re awake,” The doctor bids you goodbye, “And- a nurse will be in to run a few simple tests later. For now, just sleep and eat.”

“Will do,” Bradley tries tightening his hand around yours but you worm away from him, and it’s heartbreakingly easy to do with his limited mobility. You stand abruptly, legs shaky and heart pounding in your chest as you stumble away from his bed.

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

“Honey?” Bradley calls warily, face scrunching into a tired frown.

His eyes follow you as you back right into your chair, the plastic scraping against the floor with an ungodly screech. Now the attention is all on you, and you give into that dreaded fight or flight response you seem to always fall victim to.

“I need to use the bathroom,” You ramble, rushing for the door, “I’ll be back!”

“Y/N-” Bradley tries calling, but his voice is weak enough where you can pretend you haven’t heard it as you try to refrain from running down the hall. You don’t make it ten steps before Bradley’s door closes with a sharp click, and the voice of one Carole Bradshaw cuts through the silence of the hallway.

“Y/N Mitchell!”

She’s using the same tone she used to use when you’d get in trouble for pulling a girl’s hair at school, or throwing mud at a boy who was mean to Bradley. You react just like you had then, spine stiffening and limbs locking. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” She warns, stomping towards you in her half-raised heels, “Turn around, young lady.”

You follow her orders even if the nickname is outdated. She’s got her pretty eyes narrowed, and as much as it pains you to be on the receiving end of one of her seldom-used withering stares, it’s better than being in there and watching Bradley’s eyes shift when he suddenly remembers you’d been the biggest douche on planet Earth.

“Did you apologize?” She inquires, and you nod obediently.

“But- but Carole, he doesn’t remember-!” 

“He will,” She promises, “And when he does, you’d better apologize again. He needs you right now, y’know? He thinks it’s three weeks ago, before you ran off and left'im. As far as he knows, you’re still his adoring girlfriend who he’s probably yearning to see right about now. So go in there,” She reaches for your hand, “Kiss that boy on the mouth,” She demands, “And stop running away!”

“What? I can’t-” You gush, trying to pull away. But she’s stronger than Bradley is at the moment, and her hand tightens around yours, “I can’t lie to him! Not about this, I- how long am I supposed to pretend?”

“As long as you can,” She insists, already pulling you back towards his room, a woman on a mission, “You march right on in there, and tell him how worried you were, and let his memories come back to him on his own time. He’s traumatized right now, he just doesn’t know it yet, and he needs you there. If you break the news to him now, it’ll only stress him out more. Go play nice, and when he comes around in a few minutes, you can have a real talk.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” You lament, and she stops pulling you down the hall to narrow her eyes at you.

“Babydoll?” She asks sweetly, and fooled by her kindness, you hum in question, “I don’t give a shit.”

She’s never foul-mouthed, so it catches your attention. She holds your incredulous gaze, “You want him back?”

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

“Well as far as he knows, you haven’t.” She huffs, the fabric of her skirt flowing near her calves, “So get in there and be there for your boyfriend of twenty years, and when he suddenly remembers you aren’t his girlfriend anymore, Grovel. Sound like a plan?” She raises an eyebrow, and you tamp down the nerves rising in your chest. You nod cautiously, resolutely, and she loosens her grip on your hand. She still holds it to lead you back to the room, but she stops outside the door to speak one last time.

“I know you love him,” Her voice is softer now, genuinely sweet and caring, “And I also know you like to run when things get scary. And that’s understandable, but it’s not okay, not right now. You can’t stop loving someone just ‘cause you don’t wanna lose ‘em. It’ll hurt worse if you walk away.”

“I know,” You breathe shakily, squeezing her hand, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, sweetpea,” She smiles, tears still gathered in her eyes, “Now get in there and kiss my son.”

“There they are,” Your dad stands as you reenter the room, “You ladies have a nice bathroom break?”

“‘Had the time of our lives,” Carole nods, letting you take the seat closest to Bradley’s head. Your feet feel burdened with lead weights as you step towards his bedside, and he watches you with worried eyes. You’re sure he knows you weren’t really going to the bathroom, not with the way you’d fled, but you’re glad he’s choosing to pretend for your sake. He seems worried, though, and you curse yourself for making this about you.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for you as soon as you’re in reach, his voice still hoarse. His hand squeezes yours instantly, and you feel for the panic he's probably experiencing. He deserves a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold, and it should be someone better than you.

“Bradley,” You murmur back, trying to stop your lips from trembling, “I- can I kiss you?”

Carole’s voice rings in your ears, and you don’t have to turn around to know she’s smiling at the two of you. Bradley pauses, then his worried eyes soften and he nods weakly against the pillow.

“Oh,” Nick teases as you brace your hand on Bradley’s bed, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his lips, “Lovebirds!”

The kiss is nothing but awkward. It’s hesitant on your end, because you can’t believe you get to do it again. You’d really believed the goodbye kiss you’d shared with Bradley before he picked up dinner for the two of you would be your last one, so fitting your lips over his in the hospital seems like something otherworldly. You’re careful, too, because you don’t want to hurt him, not that you think you could ever smooch him to death. He doesn’t reciprocate much, he can’t, but the familiar prickle of his mustache against your lip is a welcome feeling that makes your heart feel light again, if only for a few seconds.

When you pull away, it’s gone. Because you have to look him in the eyes, the same ones you’d forced tears out of two weeks ago, and pretend like none of it happened at all.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You gush, voice cracking, and it feels right starting off with the truth. You can get to the lies later, the ugly little abominations you’re cooking up so that he preserves as much mental energy as possible while on bedrest. You know Carole’s right, you know he needs to heal as much as he can before you make it worse with the news, but lying feels so wrong. He’ll find out sooner or later, and what if he really was done with you? What if he hadn’t told his mom so that no family drama erupted, what if it wasn’t because he was going to try to get you back? What if he hated you, and what if he hates you even more when he knows you’re lying through your teeth to him?

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He promises, his fingers curling slowly and carefully around your own, "Are you? You ran off, I was worried."

"I'm fine," You insist, waving away his concern with a shake of your head.

He doesn't seem satisfied with your answer; he can read you like a book. But he accepts your answer, and you admire him for not wanting to pry in front of everyone. He changes the subject, glancing briefly around the hospital room, “Baby my- my phone, can I have my phone?”

“It’s here,” Your dad hands it to him, and Carole watches your eyes widen infinitesimally. What if Bradley sees his text conversations? What if he sees that you haven’t talked in half a month? What if he finds messages from someone on a dating app he’d used, a rebound-in-the-making?

What if he’s changed his background? What if he wants an answer as to why it’s probably some picturesque sunset, a jet plane cutting through the clouds above. Or maybe it’s of Lewis, he’d recently had photos restored of the dog.

What if he notices your contact name is changed to something like ‘Do not answer’? What if he realizes he’s blocked you? What if all of your pictures together are deleted off of his phone, and he wonders why?

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

“Coyote called,” Bradley rasps, upon first sight of his screen. Then, “Hangman. Twice. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, I- I should send out a message.”

“I will!” You lunge for your own phone, digging in your back pocket with suspicious urgency, “Uh, I’ll let everyone know, you just- just rest.”

“Okay,” Bradley hesitates for only a second, letting his grip go loose around his phone so that it falls back to the bed.

He seems content to let you do it, if only a little deterred by your insistence. But you’ll play the part of the fussy girlfriend, not wanting her injured love to work harder than he has to.

Nick and Pete take the time that you’re creating a group thread to question Bradley more on his memories, and every answer he gives sets your heart on edge. Your fingers feel numb as you type out ‘Rooster’s stable now, he has a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but the doctors say he’ll recover fully. His memories are a little hazy from the past few weeks but apparently those will be back soon. I’ll send you any updates we get.’

Before anyone even has a chance to reply, you set the thread on silent. You can’t bear even getting a notification that the message can’t be sent, because you’re sure Bradley’s team aren’t too fond of you right now, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d blocked you in solidarity for their friend. But Bradley hadn’t even told his mom, would he have told his team? Would he even need to? Or would they notice the circles beneath his eyes worsening, the stubble adorning his cheeks from a lack of motivation to do anything productive? Or, maybe even worse, would they have seen him with another girl hanging off of his arm at a bar? Would they have caught him out to lunch with a woman and figured it out themselves?

“Hey,” Bradley rasps, effectively breaking your zoned-out worry spiral. Your eyes don’t lose their intensity but they focus on his pale face, and he offers you a weak smile, “Anyone respond?”

“Always the attention seeker,” Nick laughs, creating a distraction so perfect that you don’t bother checking the text to answer Bradley. “Should we tell ‘em to bring flowers too, Brad?”

“Shut up,” Bradley’s voice is far too quiet to be menacing, but it’s the type of teasing he always engages in with his old man, “When you were in the hospital you said I had to draw you one picture a day or you’d think I didn’t love you.”

“And I only got fifteen out of eighteen,” If Goose is capable of a withering stare, it’s what’s directed at Bradley now, “I can’t believe I bought a Bronco for a kid who doesn’t love me.”

“Alright, you two,” Carole swats at her husband’s arm, “Cut it out, don’t overwhelm him.”

“His heart’s beatin’ real fast,” Nick snickers, “But that’s probably ‘cause Miss Mitchell is doting all over him.”

The attention’s back on you, and it means Bradley’s waiting to hear your response. You dry swallow after sending Nick a good-natured eye-roll, trying to act like your heart isn’t beating ten times faster than Bradley’s.

Miraculously, nothing awful awaits you in the group chat. There’s no error messages, no scolding, no pledges of hatred for you, and it makes you think that you really might be able to get away with this for a while. Carole won’t tell, and that doctor said Bradley might not retain his memories for weeks. It’s like everyone has hit undo on what might be your biggest mistake in life, and you don’t know how to take the opportunity.

“Bob says he hopes you recover soon,” You push the panicked fog out of your head, reading in a low voice, “Hangman says he’s gonna give you flying lessons when you get back so that you,” You snort softly, “Get the hang of it, and to that, he is receiving a barrage of middle finger emojis.”

Rooster lets out a laugh, one that’s genuine and thick from his chest. It’s unlike his voice has been so far, it’s not fractured or achy, and the sound warms your heart. Some of the sickly despair that’s been coating your heart like globs of poison dries up, and you almost feel normal again when you slide your hand into his. He holds your back, and it’s like nothing’s ever happened.

You have your Bradley back; the only question is for how long.

Lunch is a sorry state of affairs for Bradley. His tray consists of chicken and gravy that runs into his mashed potatoes, and the jello they give him has a layer of cherry red liquid pooling overtop. You and Carole take turns spoon-feeding the man, giving each other a chance to mow through your sandwiches between bites.

Your dad watches out for the doctors while you sneak Bradley some of your sandwich. It’s cafeteria turkey, and honestly you’d rather go for the chicken on his plate, but he hums gratefully at the spread of mayonnaise and mustard on the bread.

“Thanks, babydoll.” He croons, a smear of mashed potatoes in his mustache that you wipe away with watery eyes at the nickname. He puckers his lips to kiss at your thumb and it’s like you’re at home on his birthday, feeding him in bed and stealing kisses between bites.

Bradley’s eyes start to droop halfway through his watery jello, and your dad stands, brushing sandwich crumbs off of his jeans.

“Alright, buddy,” He squeezes Bradley’s foot reassuringly, “I’ll head out. Probably best to let you sleep. Get some rest, and make her give us updates,” He narrows his eyes at you, accusatory, “I know you’ll be too wrapped up in him to remember we exist, but take some time away from his lips to tell me if he’s still breathing out of ‘em, m’kay?”

“Don’t be makin’ out too much, “Nick goads, standing when Carole grabs his hand and does herself, “His heart rate’ll skyrocket and the nurse is gonna think he’s havin’ a heart attack!”

‘Yes, yes, they love each other very much,” Carole hums, leaning down to kiss Bradley’s forehead. He leans into it but his hand stays in yours, and you gladly accept the same gesture from the woman on your cheek, “Let’s leave him be, okay? Brad, I’m coming back tomorrow morning,” She promises, “Your dad and Pete have some work to do in the backyard, but they’ll join us after lunch.”

The men don’t seem to have known about this yard work until now, and they share equally exasperated groans. 

“And I’ll be here,” You throw in, meeting Carole’s appreciative gaze, “I’ll stay until they throw me out.”

“You could always handcuff yourself to the bed,” Your dad hums, and you pointedly ignore Goose’s comment about the pair of handcuffs you ‘probably keep in your nightstand.’ It gets him a sharp smack upside the head from your dad, and you’re sure Nick will choose a better audience next time.

“We love you,” Carole promises, squeezing Bradley’s arm as he bids her goodbye, “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby!”

“Love you,” Bradley hums, voice less gruff than before now that he’s used it again, “See you tomorrow.”

The entire time he’s been awake, he hasn’t let go of your hand. He turns to you with those sleepy eyes of his, big and brown and begging for a kiss. You lean in before you can stop yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

His heart rate picks up.

You laugh against his mouth at the increased beeping, and he’s barely sheepish as he nudges his nose against your own. You feel like you’re loving on borrowed time, like any second now he’ll be slammed with the memory of you breaking his heart, stomping all over it like it hadn’t been yours for the past 20 years - maybe all of your life.

“I love you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, I- I love you so much. I don’t remember anything,” He’s slurring his words slightly with fatigue, and you kiss the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “But I know you could have lost me forever, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to handle.”

He has no idea how true his words are. Of course, you’d nearly lost his life to the crash. But two weeks earlier, you’d lost his touch, his voice, his gaze, his love, and you’re grateful the tears that line your eyes look natural.

“Mhm,” You nod, sniffling, “It was- it was hard, Brad.” You admit, thinking back to the night you’d left. You’d checked into a shitty motel for the night, and you’d cried yourself sick in the shower. Even after your stomach was emptied you couldn’t bring yourself to eat for two days afterwards, and you’d only given into the mini fridge after nearly passing out. Your days were long and spent regretting your decision, wondering if you’d ever be happy without him by your side, and worrying that he might be able to.

“I just keep wanting to do it over,” You gush, feeling his hand tighten around your own as you sob, “I- I wanted to take it back, to-” You swallow a sob, remembering your lines, “-to stop you from going to work. If I’d just made you stay…” Your face crumples with a gush of tears you aren’t able to hold back, and you give up on speaking for now.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Bradley hums, kissing the space between your nose and your cheek. It’s all he can reach from the way you’re sobbing into his pillow, and you’re thankful for the comfort you might not be able to get soon.

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” He promises, and you nestle your head into his own to absorb his soothing voice, “My plane was still the one with the defect, baby. I would have gone down tomorrow if not today. ‘S only a matter of time.”

A wave of sickness washes over you at his choice of words, and you nod, trying to regain a grip. You lift yourself up from the pillow, neck aching as you crane it to kiss his chin. He smiles at you, his eyes so genuine and sweet that it makes you want to lose your lunch; it’s an expression you don’t deserve anymore, even if you long for it. It’s only a matter of time before he remembers everything, and you don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t want you anymore.

“You’re tired,” You hum, and he nods against the pillow, “Sleep, baby. You need rest.” You sniffle, wiping away a tear from your eye more forcefully than you need to. You try to lean back in your chair but Bradley stiffens, and feel him tighten his grip on your hand.

“Please don’t leave me,” He begs, and more of that nausea comes rolling in. They’re the exact words he’d whimpered just next to your ear two weeks ago, keeping the door closed with one hand while the other wound around your waist. Then, you’d wormed your way out of his grip, ripping the door open despite his efforts to stop you and running off to your car. Now though, you meet his eyes, scared and desperate and lost, and you nod, scooting forwards to lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll stay,” You promise, and he raises a hand to brace it against your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm, and he strokes a thumb over your face, “I’ll stay, Bradley, I promise.”

The nap that you take on Bradley’s chest is the best sleep you’ve had since you left. Being in his embrace once more practically erases your undereye circles, and it takes you a few seconds after you wake up to remember that anything is out of the ordinary in the first place. Then it all comes flooding back, and you cycle through each stage of grief respectively while still slumped onto the bed. Then you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you realize that Bradley’s nurse has shaken you awake.

“Hi,” The man smiles down at you, “Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you didn’t want to wake up.”

“Oh,” You laugh hesitantly, slipping out from beneath Bradley’s hand and wiping away a slight glob of drool that had accumulated around the corner of your mouth, “No, no, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“Dinnertime,” Another nurse chimes from by the door, carrying another tray of meat and potatoes for Bradley, “Around six-thirty, Miss Mitchell.”

“You’re welcome to eat here with him,” The first nurse informs you, “But you’ll have to get something from the cafeteria, or order in. And visiting hours end at eight,” He levels you with a sympathetic smile, “But if you’ve got one bite left I won’t kick you out.”

“Thank you,” You chuckle wearily, your voice barely thickened with tears, “I appreciate that. Bradley,” You hum, squeezing his hand and stroking your free one through his hair, “Wake up, baby. They brought you some dinner.”

He comes to groggy, and you don’t blame him. He blinks a few times, then recognition washes over his face as he remembers why he’s there, and hopefully nothing else.

The nurses get busy with moving his bed, pressing buttons on the little remote strapped to the side until he’s inclined enough to eat his meal. The tray hooks into the sides of the bed so that he doesn’t have to hold anything, but you take his fork for him anyways, leaving his hands completely free.

“Thank you,” You nod gratefully at the nurses when they retreat for the door, a smear of mashed potatoes already gathered on the utensil in your hand. Bradley’s happy to let you feed him, humming at the taste of the beef they’ve given him. 

“Better than the chicken,” He hums, his voice gaining back a bit of its grating quality from earlier. He’s usually rough-voiced after a nap, so you don’t worry too much about it. Typically you indulge in his raspy morning voice, but now it seems insensitive. 

“Good,” You croon, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy onto a bite of the beef, “And it doesn’t bother your stomach?”

“What’s there to upset it, salt?” He grumbles around a mouthful, “Barely tastes like anything.”

“Sorry, Brad,” You hum, stroking a stray strand of caramel colored hair back into place, “I’m not supposed to feed you anything else, though.”

“I know,” He relents, lips puckering to kiss your wrist instead of wrapping around the spoon in your hand, “Not your fault, baby. But,” He rears back to takes the bite, chewing thoughtfully while you wait for his next sentence, “Can you bring me cookies tomorrow?”

You laugh, trying to keep it quiet in the slowly darkening hospital room. There’s no one around, and the door is closed, but his voice isn’t loud and you don’t want to overpower him. 

“I just said I wasn’t allowed to feed you anything else,” You roll your eyes affectionately, a teasing gesture you thought you’d never be able to do with the man anymore, “What makes you think I’d bring you cookies?”

“Um, ‘cause you love me?” Bradley drawls, voice finally rising to a healthy volume. Maybe it’s the food in his stomach, or maybe it’s a switch that was suddenly flipped in his chest, but he sounds like himself again.

His words sober your fantasy intoxication, and you smile sadly at him where he lays in his bed. You set the fork down to lay your hand over his cheek, your palm soaking in the warmth of his skin that’s newly returned.

“I do love you,” You promise, leaning in to kiss him. You have to lean over his plate to do so, and you’ll worry later about any potential gravy stains on your shirt. You go slow and gentle, worried that he’ll push you away for reasons he doesn’t remember yet. But he doesn’t. In fact, when you pull away to give him some air, he catches your wrist in a surprising display of agility for his weakened muscles, and you freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, mustache shifting slightly with his apology, “I can’t stop thinking about you getting that call. I never-” His voice cracks, “I never wanted you to go through that.”

“Me neither,” You feel tears pricking at your eyes again, the same that are shining in Bradley’s, “But you don’t have to be sorry. None of this was your fault, and what matters is that you’re okay now. I have you back, Bradley, I- I didn’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” He vows, and your lips sting with the force of your bite to repress a sob. 

He lifts his head from his pillow, the first time he’s done it since waking up. He kisses your temple as you try not to cry, lips dotting staccato kisses against your skin as you tremble slightly.

“I promise, baby,” He hums softly into your skin as his hand comes up to hug you, “You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” You cry, your fist gripping his hospital gown desperately. You want to believe him but it’s not even really Bradley talking, it’s three-weeks-ago Bradley that doesn’t remember you walking out of his life for self-preservation. It’s Bradley that doesn’t know the worst of you yet, but who could remember at any moment and cast you away.

“You won’t, I promise.” He coos, stroking up and down your back. You feel silly, accepting comfort from a hospital patient who went down in a fighter jet less than 24 hours ago, but you feel even sillier that it's the same man you’d torn to shreds days prior. But he’s comforting you, he’s rubbing your back, he’s kissing your face, and he’s promising you that you’ll never lose him, so you let him, because you love hearing him lie, even if he doesn't know he's doing it. 

“You promise?” You look up at him with watery eyes that blur out his face, but you see him nod. It’s unfair to ask, not when he doesn’t have the knowledge to truly promise. He cranes his neck forwards to bump noses with you, letting you cry against his skin.

“I do, honey.” He nods, holding you close like you’d never left at all,  “I promise.”

Going from crying into each other’s embraces back to eating bland mashed potatoes is hard, but you ease Bradley into it with a bite of granola bar you’d found in your purse. He’s grateful for something with flavor, and you’re glad to finally be rid of the half-eaten snack. 

“Oatmeal raisin cookies, please,” Bradley begs as he chews the snack, going as far as to bat his pretty lashes at you, brown eyes shiny with hope. 

You scoff, wiping a tear away from your face with a fond, albeit trembling smile, “Okay, Brad. Oatmeal raisin.”

“You’re the best,’ He hums, grinning with a mouthful of oats and chocolate. You check your phone to find that you’ve only got twenty minutes left until visiting hours are over, and your eyes dim as you glance back up at him.

“I have to go soon,” You lament, “Visiting hours are over in twenty.”

His face fades from its pretty smile, some of the newfound color draining from his skin once more. You’re sure he’ll have a nightmare tonight, something about jet crashes and dying alone, and you hate leaving him here so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You sniffle, squeezing his hand, “They open back up at 8 tomorrow, so as soon as I make those cookies I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know,” He nods, raising your intertwined hands to kiss at your wrist, “It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

“I’d sneak you into my bed,” Bradley grins sadly, “S’alright, baby, just get a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after today.”

“You too,” You squeeze his hand, smiling sweetly at him, “And if you have a nightmare, text me, and I’ll crawl through the window, ‘promise.”

He laughs again, and now that he’s got most of his strength back it’s a normal sound. It’s not weak, it’s not subdued, it’s perfect. It’s Bradley.

“I’d like to see you try,” He teases, and you wipe a smear of chocolate off of his lower lip, remembering the first time you’d ever done that with a fond smile.

“I’m on the sixth floor.” He reminds you, and you shrug, sucking the chocolate off of your finger.

“Meh,” You crumble up the granola bar wrapper in your fist, “I could scale that easy.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I bet you could,” Bradley chuckles, “You’re Spider-Man, suddenly? Sticking to walls? I must have forgotten your transformation.”

“Yeah, you did,” You grin with a laugh, “Actually, while I rushed over here to see you, a truck full of radioactive spiders crashed, and I got bitten by one. You’ve missed a lot, Brad.”

“Right,” Bradley’s brows raise, eyes alight with amusement, “Those radioactive spider trucks are a real nuisance, I hear.”

Giggling sweetly with him feels normal. The kind of normal you crave, the kind that isn’t settled for, but yearned for. And you’re clinging to it, pushing the truth out of your mind and playing the part perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts your gigglefest and you turn in time to see the nurse from before entering, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“I’m supposed to kick you out,” He jokes, holding Bradley’s chart, “And you’re free to sleep whenever, Mr. Bradshaw, we don’t need to conduct any more tests tonight. You’re just here to be monitored."

“Alright,” Bradley nods and you stand, still clasping his hand in yours. The doctor busies himself with straightening up the chairs around the bed, and you take the privacy he so kindly grants you.

“Sleep good,” You recite your pre-bedtime deployment sendoff to Bradley, the phrase having gathered dust in the back of your head since his last overseas assignment, “Sweet dreams, and call me when you can.”

“I will,” Bradley leans up to kiss you, going for your lips, then your cheek, then your chin, “You too, baby. Get some rest. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” You beam down at him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, “You’re okay, Brad.”

"See you tomorrow!" He calls as you leave, and you turn to nod.

"See you tomorrow, baby." You promise once more, hand on the door handle, "Goodnight."

“Sleep well, Mr. Bradshaw,” The nurse bids Bradley goodbye with a smile and a nod as you trail out behind him, and at the click of the door behind the two of you, it’s like you’re the recovering amnesia patient. Now that Bradley’s not there anymore, not smiling at you, not telling you he loves you, it’s like you can’t be sure of anything, like you’re still that imposter you’d been when you’d first stepped in. You come to the sickening realization, only after the fact, that you'd loved lying to Bradley, and it makes you feel worse. Your reverie is shattered, and the nurse beside you notices your shaky breathing as you trail down the hallway.

“Miss, are you okay?” His brows furrow in concern, and you nod.

“Yeah, just-” You smooth your hands down your pants, your palms sweaty, “It’s a lot. Being in there, seeing him like- like that. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”

“No one is,” The nurse smiles sympathetically at you, leading you to an elevator, “But he’s right, Miss Mitchell. He’ll be alright. And hopefully, his memories will restore themselves overnight. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up remembering it all.”

You’re sure that was meant to soothe you, but it’s only sent more nausea rolling through your body. You nod, forcing a smile as the doors shut between you, “Thank you, Nurse.”

Once the doors shut, you want to burst into tears. You don’t want the reception desk to see that, though, so you rush through the motions of leaving, practically running to your car. Once you’re safely inside the floodgates open, and you’re surprised you don’t trigger the horn from how hard you’re sobbing against the steering wheel.

You try to channel Bradley’s voice, ‘I promise baby, you won't lose me.’ but it makes things worse, it piles guilt on top of your sickness and makes you want to run away again. Because he’d promised you that he’d never leave you, not that he’d ever let you come back if you’d left him. And that’s what you’re worried about now.

Running away hadn’t stopped anything bad from happening, it just made you feel worse when bad things did happen. Thankful for your second chance, you swear to yourself in the stuffy silence of your car that you’ll do anything to fix this, and that you’re not going to fuck this up again because you’re scared. Love is scary, giving yourself completely to another person is scary, but Bradley’s always been good at soothing your fears, and there’s no one you’d rather give yourself to.

You steel yourself as you prepare to drive back to your motel, but second-guess it when you remember that Bradley has his phone with him. You have each other shared on Find My Friends, and he doesn’t normally check it unless he’s worried about your safety, but you’re paranoid that he’ll find your pin at a crappy motel and know something is wrong. So you punch in Bradley’s address instead, the one you used to share with him, still labeled as ‘home’, and set off.

The drive looks familiar in no time, and it reminds you of how much you’d missed it. The big oak tree on your neighbor’s lawn, the flag perpetually at half-mast because the man across the street fell while adjusting it and never fixed it, the tricycle on the sidewalk beside your front door that the toddler next door always seemed to leave on your walkway. You check the mail and feel something stabbing at your chest when your name is on one of the letters, and your house key is cold with disuse as you slide it into the slot.

You hesitate when the doorknob turns beneath your fingers. Walking into Bradley’s space will tell you exactly how he feels about what happened between you. There’s either going to be empty bottles strewn everywhere with pictures laying around covered in tear stains, or there’s going to be a hot pink bra in his bed, and a new woman’s makeup kit in his bathroom. Hell, maybe she’ll even still be there, maybe you’re about to walk in on your replacement.

But the promise you’d made to yourself in the car wasn’t for show, and you turn the knob after taking a deep breath, stepping into the darkened home.

You call out an uncertain ‘hello?’ into the place, waiting with bated breath for a woman’s voice to respond. But it never does, and you flick the light on beside the door.

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

It’s messy. Not exactly the outwardly disastrous type of messy you’d imagined earlier, but knowing all of the little things about Bradley means that you know he’s let himself go over the past two weeks. His running shoes are gathering dust by the door, which seems to suggest that he’s been lazing in bed just like you have. The living room is pristine, the pillows all arranged the way you set it up that Bradley doesn’t care to replicate, and you wonder if he’s sat on the couch at all the entire time since you’ve been gone. There’s no grocery list on the fridge and upon further inspection, the appliance is close to empty, one lonely beer left alongside ketchup, mustard, and a rotting head of lettuce. Unless he was eating the worst burgers known to man, you don’t think he’s been eating anything from the kitchen. Your heart aches for Bradley; you hope he’s been ordering food in.

Walking through the space is like revisiting a crime scene as the killer. Everything here is because of you, the pictures stripped from the walls are gone because of you, the lonely toothbrush in the dual holder is because of you, the neatly made side of the bed with its messy counterpart is because of you. 

You realize that it’s your side that’s slept on, Bradley’s still tucked neatly in place, unused. You spot a red covering over your pillow, reaching for it and finding it to be an old t-shirt of yours that Bradley had raided your dresser drawers for. It’s one he’d bought you at a tourist trap on your vacation a few years ago, and it was your favorite to lounge in. You notice a dark spot on the fabric and only then realize that you’re crying, that it’s a tear that had fallen from your eye. Then it’s like everything hits you all at once, and you sink onto the mattress clutching the pillow. It smells like Bradley, and you know he’s been clinging to it every night, a thought that solidifies your sneaking suspicion that you might be the worst person on the planet.

You curl up and cry there, you don’t know for how long. All you can do is sob, soak your pillow with tears that you thought you were out of, clutch the bedsheets like they’ll reveal Bradley, hidden underneath and eager for a cuddle. This bed feels as empty as the motel’s had, maybe even emptier, because you’ve never slept in it away from Bradley. When he’s on deployment you always have a sweatshirt of his and a picture of him tucked under the pillow, but you know it won’t be there now. Now you’re alone, really alone. 

Your eyes droop and you know you need sleep, especially if you’re going to wake up early to make Bradley cookies in time for visiting hours to start. But you can’t bring yourself to sleep without the picture of him under his pillow, so you stumble out of bed to fetch it from your box of memories.

Your fingers close around the slightly wrinkled photo, a shot of you in a gown and Bradley in a suit. It’s one you’d taken yourself at your graduation, high school turned college sweethearts. He had wanted admission into the Naval Academy, but in order to spend more time with you, you’d enrolled together at a university. It’s your favorite photo to have with you, and you reach out to Bradley’s pillow to slide it underneath. Upon lifting the pillow, you find a stack of pictures already there. Each one of you, most with Bradley pictured in them too. They only make you cry harder, and you recognize some as the inserts of the picture frames that had been taken down from the hallway.

It looks like Bradley hoarded photos of you, and some are stiff and stained with tears. The sight is something out of a movie, a dramatic indication of the inner turmoil of its main character. You see a shot of your silhouettes together, faces darkened by the sun streaming in behind you. You’re kissing on the beach, and without paying much mind to the structural integrity of the photo, you clutch it to your chest.

You’re a wreck. You just want your Bradley back, but your Bradley isn’t yours anymore. You want three-weeks-ago Bradley back, the one who you didn’t run away from. But he’ll probably have his memories back by tomorrow, and there’s no telling if he’d even want you to visit again. Looking at the sorry state of his apartment, you know he misses you, but whether he wants you back is another question altogether. All you can do is wait and worry, and worry you do. As you sob and heave in the bed, your brain shuts down, and eventually you drift into a dreamless, unpleasant sleep, nose still buried in your shirt that smells like Bradley.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

@musclejedi7 You wanted to be a big dumb ginger. And not just that. A big dumb bodybuilding ginger. Meet Kevin. Tired of living his life in his pale skin. Tired of his fiery red hair. He came to me and wished he could be someone else. Someone not this. And all I needed was a willing man to put in his body. With a snap of my fingers the two of you make a permanent body swap. Kevin kept his body strong. Hitting the gym all the time whenever he could but one of the things he didn’t like was that he could gain the muscle mass he wanted. Aside from his other issues he had with his body. But that’s ok. You’re Kevin now. You look down and see his tight abs. His pecs. His chest hair that travels down his furry navel to his ginger bushed package. Legs coated in blondish red hair. Something you can see until you stand in the sun and all leading down to some large ginger feet that had to be a size 15. You have a neatly trimmed beard and you look young. You can’t be more than 23. But you’re finally in the finger body you always wanted. And you can see yourself doing great things in this body.

But you want to be body builder size. In a red heads body. So enjoy this size while you can. Over the next week you’re going to be changing. A pounds or two here and there. Aging up a few months here. A couple days there. Your new body is force muscle mass onto it. Becoming a true muscle freak of nature.

Day three you wake up and you can’t help but take a picture. You’ve exploded with muscle. Sure you look like you’re 32 now but you have packed on 50 pounds of muscle. More defined pecs and larger arms. The sweating is easily managed as long as you use a lot of deodorant. And even your hair has managed to get redder. Your shoes are starting to get tight tho and it kind of worrying you. In your first day in your new body you went to find some more comfortable shoes but it was impossible to find anything for these big flippers.

But the end of your first week you’re even larger than before. Well over a hundred pounds than when you first got trapped in this body for the rest of your life. The sweating became unmanageable after day three. Even deodorant no longer worked on the musky sweaty. You sweat so much now that the deodorant just rolled off your thicker body. You had gained welled over 100 pounds of pure muscle during the week. You started wearing a hat all the time as your woke up on day 5 completely bald. And your body got even hairier after that. It’s like you were constantly juicing steroids even though you never touched a single drug. And your worse fear came to pass on day four. Working out and your shoes split as you seen your toes wiggling and stretching. You still haven’t been able to find a store that hold a size 20 for you. And your height topped at 6’5”. Even your pants couldn’t contain the massive member you had anymore. And when you did find a pair you had to do what you could to not get hard. And that was a challenge in itself as what seemed to be the constant juicing left your horny all the time and ready to release. But this is what you wanted right. Trapped as big body building ginger. The only problem now is your smarts. Maybe we should tackle that in week two ? I think a loss 5 iq points everyday for a week will fix you right up !

[familyvideostevie]

alright, hear me out. i looked through the prompts list and can we give roommate!steve a little airtime beCAUSE—

trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark

— is SO steve coded. i wanna see this man during a power outage. please and thank you. i love you.

hi baby. here you go. sorry it took so long. it is the first thing i have written in about 6 weeks so apologies for it's roughness. i adore you. thank you for helping me give steve Harrington his triumphant return. | fluff, 1.3k, roommates!au

Summer storms in the Midwest always take you by surprise. The never-ending expanse of blue sky becomes crowded with swirling grey clouds without warning and everything stills, like the very fabric of time is holding its breath. Until the dam bursts and rain pounds on your windows, the roof, the pavement with wild abandon. Deep, rumbling thunder follows bright flashes of lightning.

You find it relaxing. A steady, reliable chaos into which you settle without complaint.

Well, usually. Your roommate, Robin -- a talkative and whip-smart girl who makes you laugh-- enjoys storms just as much as you do. It's one of the only times she settles, so you often read side-by-side in companionable silence. Sometimes, if you're feeling bold, you'll both dance in the rain.

But Robin is on some six-month trip for brilliant people and she's left you with a subletter.

"My best friend Steve," she'd said. "Come on, I talk about him all the time. You basically know him."

It's true. Robin is full of stories and this Steve is in most of them. A funny, brave, well-intentioned guy who is a bit of an idiot and has a great head of hair.

And now he's living in the other bedroom. And he's hot. And he always does his dishes and remembers to put the seat down after you scolded him once for doing otherwise and you have a crush on him.

It's annoying. He's been here for like, three weeks and keeps asking you where the spoons are and you like him.

But Steve? You are learning that Steve does not like summer storms.

In the few you've had since he arrived you've noticed that he paces, or sits in the living room with the television turned up high, or something noisy. You've never asked him about it because honestly, he could be much worse as far as roommates go.

You can hear his radio through the wall and it's making it hard to focus on your book. You should really go to sleep but this chapter is really good and does he have to be so loud? Maybe you should get up and ask him to keep it down --

A flash of lightning makes it seem like daylight in your room for a brief moment and then everything is dark. Everything.

"Fuck," you say. The power must have gone out. A clap of thunder so loud it feels like your building shakes startles you. You hear a shout from the other side of the wall.

It's not as hard as you'd expect to feel your way to your bedroom door in the dark. You manage to do so without injury apart from bumping your hip on your dresser.

But when you open your door you smack into a solid wall of warmth. Your fingers grasp for purchase and find none -- only bare skin.

"Jesus Christ --" Steve says. He manages to prevent you both from falling over and holds you at arm's length in the dark. "What are you doing?" His voice is tight and he squeezes your shoulders once before releasing you.

"Uh," you say. You're certain that he's not wearing a shirt. You can feel that he's not wearing a shirt. "The power went out."

He huffs. "Wow, thank you. I had no idea."

You wish it wasn't dark so you could see his face. Three weeks hasn't been enough time to learn all of his expressions. "Were you sleeping?"

It feels like a dumb question considering how loud his music was.

"Yeah," he says. "Obviously I was sleeping. It's like, 1 am."

"Just go back to sleep. If you can, under the volume of your radio."

You imagine him wincing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't, uh. Sleep well during --"

Lighting illuminates the hall and you see him for one brilliant second, messy hair, bare chest rising and falling, boxers slung low. Boxers with...are those...bananas? Then: darkness, thunder. You sense his flinch.

"That," he says flatly.

A smile creeps its way onto your face and you allow it because he can't see. The fact that this guy, your temporary roommate, your sort-of crush, is afraid of thunderstorms fills your chest with warmth. It's endearing. It's adorable. It makes you like him so much more.

You ease past him and into the dark of the rest of the apartment.

"Woah, woah," Steve says. "Where are you going?" You hear him follow you and immediately run into something. He curses. You keep your hands out to avoid the same fate.

"You okay?" you call back.

"Why do we have so much furniture?" he grumbles. "Fuck, that hurt."

You don't correct him that we actually means you and Robin.

"Watch where you're going," you say lightly.

"Oh, ha, ha."

Careful steps take you closer to your destination. "Go look for candles in the kitchen," you tell him. "They're in the drawer by the trash."

"Uh, okay," Steve says. He bumps into things with quiet curses on his way as you look for the matches that should be in the closet. "Why? You could just go back to bed. I'm fine."

You chew on your lip. He's right. But you want to hang out with him. The dark makes you honest. "The thunder is loud," you say. "I won't be able to sleep. We might as well hang out."

He laughs, the first genuine one all night. "Oh, you want to hang out? In the dark? You know what this sounds like, right?"

Ah, the famous Harrington charm Robin has told you about. It makes your cheeks feel hot and you can't hide a smile. Steve ruins the moment by running into something again.

"Fuck! Jesus --"

"Steve, be careful."

"I can't see anything!"

You sigh and finally find the matches. Box in hand, you carefully make your way to the kitchen, your eyes adjusting just a little and making it easier.

Steve is looking in the wrong drawer. You should just tell him so, but instead you reach for him, fingers circling his wrist and dragging it to the right one. His skin is warm under yours, the back of his hand softer than you'd thought it would be. You open the drawer together and hear the candles roll around inside.

His face is a dark outline but you focus on the dark and think you see his eyes. You wish you could see him.

"Found them," he says. You're much closer than you realized, so close you feel his breath on your cheek. Steve leans in -- or maybe it's you, you have no idea, and your noses brush. He puts a hand on your hip, fingers sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt and burning you like a brand.

Your eyes slide close and you miss the flash but not the boom that follows, sending you both about a foot in the air and away from each other.

"Shit," you gasp. Steve laughs and you join in, giggling in the dark like teenagers.

Maybe this is a one-night thing, the darkness making you both a little lonelier and a little braver. But you've got months more of him and the idea of spending that time being something more than just roommates? It's appealing, to say the least.

You reach for Steve in the dark and he must have been doing the same because your fingers tangle without much effort.

"Come on," you say. "Let's light the candles and sit on the couch. I'm sure the power will come back on eventually."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. "Okay," he says, a smile in his voice. "Don't let me run into anything."

You grin at him in the dark and hope that come morning he'll be familiar with it in the light, as well. "Don't worry, Steve," you tell him. "I've got you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[fanfic-obsessed]

No Memories, Just Vibes

There is a part of the Jedi Apprentice series that has sparked two different ideas, of which this is the first. 

Early in one of the books, before Obi Wan is taken as a padawan, Qui Gon Jinn witnesses a duel between him and another initiate. Qui Gon perceives that these two pre teens (if I remember correctly, Obi Wan is a few weeks away from turning 13 and Bruck Chun was a few months to a year younger) are too angry and tells Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, that training Obi Wan would be a waste of time. 

As traumatizing as this speech is, when we take into account Obi Wan’s entire story it is also, objectively, the single most hilarious thing that Qui Gon Jinn could say to Obi Wan Kenobi. 

From this Two ideas were born. 

IDEA 1

The first is that as soon as Qui Gon tell Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, the Force drops post Death Star Qui Gon into current time Qui Gon’s head. Except there are no memories, just vibes.  So between one moment and the next Qui Gon goes from ‘I will not teach you. Get away from me’ to ‘this is my baby padawan, my little boy! Isn’t he precious?’.

And the Masters watching, particularly those responsible for assigning the Master/Padawan pairs, go ‘we were going to let you take the baby, until just now. Now we need do a psych eval’

And Obi Wan (twelve years old) is a mix of emotions that he is not sure there is a word for.  Ten minutes ago he was hopeful that Qui Gon Jinn would take him as a padawan. Three minutes ago the same master shattered that hope and left him devastated. Now the Master who devastated him is now hugging him and babbling about a padawan braid and how Obi Wan is his son.

Nothing makes sense.

Eventually, after innumerable medical and psychological tests, Qui Gon is allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan. At some point, during the evaluations, Qui Gon comes to two ‘realizations’ (based on nothing but vibes). The first is that he decides that Obi Wan must be the chosen one, but Qui Gon cannot tell anyone, believing that Qui Gon would not be allowed to teach him (left over vibes from the High council not letting him take Anakin as a Padawan) and to not put excess pressure on the baby. He also decides that Obi Wan’s goodness (the vibe that Obi Wan is incapable of falling) is just what is needed to bring Xanatos back to the light. 

It should be noted that Qui Gon communicates this plan poorly to Obi Wan, who perceives that Qui Gon took him on to be bait for Qui Gon’s fallen former padawan.  Obi Wan, though lacking in much of the trauma that we associate with him, is fairly fatalistic and just shrugs, thinking ‘well, this might as well happen’.

As soon as Qui Gon is released from medical, he takes himself and his shiny new padawan haring across the galaxy looking for Xanatos.  It takes long enough to find him that Feemor hears about what is going on and, out of concern for the child involved, goes to find them. When he arrives Qui Gon is waving Obi Wan at Xanatos going ‘I got you a baby brother.’

Feemor, somehow both too young and too old for this shit, goes ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ and briefly steals Obi Wan. 

At some point Obi Wan and Xanatos bond enough that the next time that Xanatos tells Qui Gon that Xan is going to kill him, Obi Wan pipes up saying that Qui Gon was the only master ho would take him and Obi wan really wants to be a Jedi.

Xanatos now has a new mission, to find a new Master for his little brother, so he can go back to trying to murder Qui Gon. (For handwavy reasons, we’ll call it the repudiation, Feemor is not allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan-Xanaots asked). 

So now we have the weirdest chase in history. Qui Gon is vibing and chasing Xanatos. Xantos is leading Qui Gon on a chase and looking for another Jedi Master without getting skewered (because of the darksider thing). Obi Wan is being dragged along with Qui Gon, hoping that he gets to learn something about being a jedi before he is killed? He is not even sure. Feemor is following Qui Gon and Obi Wan, occasionally confiscating Obi Wan, because he is not sure anyone should be exposed to this much Qui Gon over any length of time. 

They are also utterly ignoring both the senate and the Jedi council. Well Feemor and Qui Gon are ignoring the Jedi Council and the Senate. Xanatos, since he is not part of the Jedi Order any longer, is not bound to either.  Obi Wan is actually filling out the required reports to the best of his abilities but the information boils down to ‘We continue to ignore the assigned mission, I am thirteen (having had a birthday in the interim) and cannot change that. Feemor is quite kind when he abducts me.’

You may or may not have guessed but this clusterfuck lands on Galidraan.  Just before the fighting between Jango Fett’s True Mandalorians and Dooku’s Jedi is due to erupt.  Qui Gon wanders through the tense standoff, stops and with no context whatsoever goes ‘Oh, everyone here is being tricked’. With him is thirteen year old Obi Wan, a tiny child.  Xanatos, who beat them to the planet by about an hour strides dramatically as fuck from the other side of the potential battlefield shouting out ‘Qui Gon Jinn, you ass…’ before clocking the Jedi and going ‘Jedi’.

Feemor also lands and exits his ship from yet another direction, already looking like he had a headache, going ‘Qui Gon, what he Kriff’. 

Now the tense standoff between the Madalorians and the Jedi is derailed as everyone involved goes from violent rage to baffled rage. Also everyone recognizes that there is now a kid on the battlefield and no one wants to be the one to fight a tiny child. This does eventually defuse things enough that contacts can be exchanged and everyone gets to realize that the governor is the asshole.

Qui Gon refuses to elaborate (and frankly is unable to elaborate, he has no information only vibes) on the ‘Everyone is being tricked’ thing. Or what he meant when he wandered up to Jango Fett, peered at him, and told him ‘You’re not the right one, but I won’t hold it against you’ (what Qui Gon means, even if he doesn’t realize it, is that Jango is not Cody).  At some point or another during the time that they are figuring this out, everyone in the combined party of Jedi/Darksiders/Mandalorians/Other says ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ (This includes two Deathwatch prisoners captured during the campaign).

Throughout this Xanatos keeps trying to corner other Jedi to get them to take on Obi Wan, except he is also not great at communicating his intentions, so it is perceived that he is trying to get rid of Obi Wan so that he can have Qui Gon to himself.  No one is willing to question any further, though most are a little freaked out. 

IDEA 2

The second idea is not quite as detailed. It’s a Read/Watch the series.  Again we start from Qui Gon telling Obi Wan that he is destined to fall. The Force pulls everyone (initiates, knights, Masters, and the Council members) in the area outside of time where they watch the Movies and shows (Starting with TPM and watching in chronological Order: The prequels, The Clone Wars, Kenobi, the OT) with a focus on Obi Wan Kenobi.  

So everyone gets to go ‘Oh, Obi Wan is actually awesome’. Except of course for Obi Wan, who nearly has a breakdown believing that this is proof that he should not be a Jedi knight (somehow convinced that the Purge/Order 66 is actually his own fault). 

So now Obi Wan has a plethora of Masters who want to train him (including Qui Gon, who again believes that Obi Wan must be the Chosen One) , additional trauma of survivor's guilt before the events that he survived, and a shiny new appointment with the mind healers. He also has the admiration of the initiates that had previously bullied him. 

The Jedi council is able to piece together enough information on the Sith to try and change things, with varying results.

[moonlightsolo]

the spirit tree.

summary: after lo’ak goes missing outside of the reef, neteyam is forced to keep a better eye on his brother. neytiri finally confronts you on what neteyam means to you. tsireya reveals the metkayinas spirit tree, where you can connect with your ancestors. 

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: almost spicy content but not quite, just smooching/heavy kissing, nete being a gentleman <3 

note: there’s gonna be one more part to this series, which is almost finished and will be released sometime this week! part 1, 2, 3 here! also my gif :p

part one | part two | part three | part five

“it’s lo’ak. he went outside of the reef and he’s missing.” kiri‘s shaky voice mutters out. 

she watches how your face falls from her words, how your breathing picks up and an evident shiver wracks your body. your hand instinctively wraps around her wrist in attempt to save yourself from your own overactive mind. 

what if something bad happened to him? neteyam would never be able to forgive himself. it would be your fault that you had him distracted from keeping an eye on his brother. 

“i need to go find him.” your eyes search the glowing water for your ilu, ready to summon her. 

before you could even act upon your rash idea, four tsuraks soar above the village with metkayina men sitting on the saddles. their voices loudly call out lo’ak’s name as they fly over the water.

“look!” she points up at the sky, making your eyes shift from the water and to her face, “they have it under control. you cannot put yourself in danger too, neteyam would never forgive me if i let you go out there. we have to go find him and my dad.” kiri’s soft voice calms down your heroic efforts. 

she gently takes your hand to lead you to the main part of the village, where some villagers are gathered around. 

before you could even try to find neteyam in the crowd, kiri starts to weave and bob through the mob of people. “excuse me. coming through.” kiri repeats as you dodge past their elbows. 

she finally makes it to an opening that overlooks the water, letting go of your hand to walk over to her mom. tonowari and jake are standing near the edge having a heated discussion with ao’nung standing off to the side. 

your eyes skim over the people standing around, until you spot his dark blue skin that contrasts amongst the metkayina. 

“neteyam!” you call out, making the boy snap his head towards your voice and his braids swing wildly from the force of his head. the stressed expression on his face softens at the sight of you. 

the tall boy takes a few large strides towards you, his arms wrap around your head to pull you closer to him. “lo’ak better come back in one piece so i don’t rip that fish boys head off.” he mumbles quietly enough only for you to hear. 

you can’t help but look up at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle from the look you give him. “what? this kid ruined the only time we’ve had alone since we’ve arrived here and left my brother in the middle of the no where.” 

your arms tighten around his waist, shrugging in agreement. one of his hands cups the entire backside of your head to guide it against his chest so he could fully embrace you. he lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, almost as if your presence could melt away any of his worries. 

a loud horn bellows in the night sky, making both you and neteyam pick your heads up. the giant flying fish touch down in the water right in front of you, a few of them yipping as they swim forward. 

“the boy has returned!” someone in the crowd yells.

“it is the sully boy! they found him!” another person shouts. 

lo’ak climbs off the back of a tsurak, and signs ‘i see you’ as a thank you when he climbs onto the dock in the water.

once lo’ak notices ao’nung above him, he goes to walk towards him but jake hops down to stop him. “hey, hey.” he urges him to stop, “let’s have a look at you, okay?” jake turns his youngest son to look at his back to inspect him of any injury. 

lo’ak doesn’t dare to break eye contact with the chief’s son, staring daggers at him. 

“he’s fine.. he’s fine.” jake says reassuringly. the words make the tightness in your chest escape along with an exhale, you and neteyam both sigh in relief. “just a few scratches!” jake announces. 

neteyam pulls away from you slightly to go walk forward, his hand sliding into yours instead.  neytiri is quick to push her way through the crowd, making neteyam stop mid step. you can tell that she’s furious. 

she hops down to where jake and lo’ak are standing below on the dock. her hands grip the boys arms as she looks him over, “i pray for the strength that i will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” she growls at him as she motions towards his face with a claw like hand. 

lo’ak seems unfazed by his mothers words as he looks up at tonowari, “no.” the chief says, “my son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” his hand cups the back of ao’nungs neck to push him to the ground, forcing the boy to kneel before the sully’s, “the blame is his.” 

jake urges his family back up onto land, but lo’ak stops, “no. this is not ao’nungs fault.” he shakes his head, “this was my idea.” 

neteyams grip on your hand tightens, his breath shuddering. it takes everything in him to not lose his cool from lo’aks stupid choice to take the blame. 

“ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. really.” he speaks to tonowari as jake ushers him to hop up. lo’ak finally gives in, hopping up on the platform where everybody else is standing. “i’m sorry.” he apologizes as he walks past the chief and ronal. 

jake is quick to follow him, along with neytiri, kiri and you and neteyam. “dad you told me to make friends with these kids.” lo’ak stops in his tracks, trying to reason why he was outside of the reef, “that’s all i was trying to-.” he’s cut off by his dad. 

“i don’t want to hear it.” he snaps, “you brought shame to this family.” 

your heart drops from jakes words, eyes widening as you glance up at neteyam, who continues to stare forward. your eyes make their way back to lo’ak, watching how his eyes drop slightly but he doesn’t let his tough demeanor go. “can i go now?” he simply asks. 

“any more trouble, i jerk a knot in your tail, you read me?” jakes voice grows angrier with his son. 

“yes, sir. lima charlie.” lo’ak throws a dig at his dad, having an evident attitude. jake grunts and motions with his eyes to dismiss lo’ak, who quickly walks away from his family. 

you want to follow him, to see if he’s okay after that altercation with his dad. until jake turns toward you and neteyam, neytiri following the same motion. 

your heart drops to your ass, making you gulp from their stern gazes. “where were you?” neytiri questions, “yeah. what happened to ‘keep an eye on your brother’?” jake adds. 

“sorry, sir.” neteyam gives his dad a nod, his ears lowering slightly from being reprimanded. 

“come on.” jake motions to neytiri, “neteyam, go find lo’ak and make sure he gets home.” 

neteyam nods, gripping your hand tight to pull you along with him but jake steps in front of you both, just you.” he speaks to his son. 

neteyam blinks a few times from his dads orders, his head cocks back in a bit of shock, “but..” he goes to protest, and jake gives him a sharp look. “no but’s- just go. we’ll make sure she gets home.” 

neteyam let’s out a little huff, reluctantly letting go of your hand. he looks down at you, giving you a little smile before sliding past his dad and after his brother. jake starts to walk forward, forcing the rest of you to follow behind. 

once you reach the marui, jake shoots a indescribable glance at neytiri who’s in front of you. 

kiri instantly picks up on it, letting her hand linger on your shoulder as she gives you a smile that says, ‘good luck’, before disappearing inside the pod. 

jake follows his daughter, leaving you and neytiri outside. you can feel your heart hammering against your ribs, not knowing if you’re about to get lectured by her. 

neytiri lets out a breath, looking at you as she motions towards the edge of the netted platform. this was bound to happen, you’ve been lectured by the sully’s when you were younger but not since you’ve been with neteyam. 

once you’re far enough away from the marui, neytiri softly grabs your elbow to stop you. 

she tsks out your name, making your heart practically stop mid-beat, “i am not sure what you have going on with my son, or if you have made tsaheylu but…” she clears her throat at the end, obviously just as uncomfortable as you are during this conversation. 

“trust me. i mean no malicious intent with neteyam. we.. haven’t bonded that way yet, but i truly care for him.” you ramble out. you’re assuming the next thing she is going to say is that she doesn’t want you to be with him anymore. 

neytiri seems taken aback from your rushed words, one of her arms reach out to rest on your upper arm. “i see how much you care for him, as he does for you.” she nods, “you are different from us, but that does not mean your heart is.“ 

you blink rapidly, gulping down the growing lump in your throat, “my son has good intentions with you. i want to see him happy, but i need him to focus on his family too. it is hard for all of us to be here.” 

all you can do is nod, knowing that you would never be able to stop loving that boy. even if his parents disagreed with your relationship. 

wait… love? you love him? 

you keep your thoughts to yourself as neytiri talks, her hand pats your arm before saying goodnight and walking back into the main pod. you take a moment to look out over the water, staring down at the glowing bioluminescent reef. 

you decide to sit down, letting your legs hang over the edge as your mind ponders on everything that just happened. 

you love neteyam, and for some reason you haven’t realized that until now. 

your eyes watch the fish that scurry through the water, until you feel footsteps coming up from behind you. a warm hand grips your shoulder from above, making you turn to look up at them. 

neteyam.

his braids hang around his face perfectly as he smiles down at you, flashing his little bunny teeth you’ve grown so fond of. “nete..” you breathe out in relief, practically throwing yourself at him. 

he easily lifts you up onto your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist. “woah. you okay?” he chuckles as his hand rubs over the small of your back. 

you peek over his shoulder, watching lo’ak slip inside of the darkened pod to head to bed. this is your opportunity to talk to him.

you unravel yourself from around his neck, pressing your hands against his chest to pull back but he refuses, “what is wrong, my love?” his knuckles brush against your cheekbone with a concerned look on his face. 

“i think…” you breathe out, your heart thumps heavy in your eardrums, “i.. i’m just tired. i want to go to bed.” you murmur, trying your hardest not to make eye contact with him. you know if you would, he would be able to see through your lies. 

neteyam nods, but obviously he doesn’t fully believe you. he quietly sneaks you both back into the marui, tiptoeing around his sleeping siblings to your area in the far back corner.

he lays down with you, situating himself behind you with his chest pressed against your back. he leaves a soft kiss against your jawline once he snuggles against you which quickly sends you into a deep sleep. 

sometime in the early morning, you’re awoken by neteyam’s warmth leaving your body. you groan in protest, making him shush you by pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

“come on, bro. hurry up.”  lo’ak rushes him quietly. 

“what are you two doing?” kiri mumbles sleepily in the dark room.

your eyes shoot open to watch neteyam and lo’ak sneak out, and kiri is sitting up on her elbows with one of her eyes peeked open. 

“what is wrong with them…” she grumbles to herself as she pushes the blanket off of her body to stand up and follow. 

you sigh in annoyance, knowing you will have to go after them. you frustratingly kick the blankets off of your body, grumbling to yourself as you shuffle towards the opening. 

peeking outside of the entrance, you see a glimpse of kiri’s tail rounding a corner so you quickly take off after them. you scurry like a mouse, quiet but swift. you catch up to the girl, who is tailing them closely but not enough for them to notice. “i wonder what they’re doing.” she whispers to you, and you reply with a shrug.

the boys hop off the side of the netted walkway and into the sand, pushing each other around and laughing. by now, the sun has barely risen above the horizon, brightening the night sky. 

three other na’vi are standing in the distance, tsireya, roxto, and ao’nung. your eyebrows furrow as they all sit down in a circle on some rocks, “come on.” you motion for kiri to follow, hopping off the side to follow their footsteps. 

“i was hoping you two would be coming too!” tsireya waves with a bright smile, which you mirror. neteyam and lo’ak turn their heads to look at you both, pure confusion riddles their features. 

instead of sitting beside neteyam, you make yourself comfortable between kiri and ao’nung. he can’t help but stare at you from across ao’nung’s body, wondering why you decided to sit there instead of with him. 

“i told ao’nung last night to bring everyone here so i could tell you what happened out there.” lo’ak clears his throat softly before continuing. 

he continues to tell a long story about a very vicious nalutsa and a heroic tulkun at three brothers rocks. he thought he died, but the tulkun saved his life and kept him safe.

specifically one that had a missing fin, which tsireya instantly recognized as the outcast named payakan- who is also coincidentally a ‘killer.’

“i’m telling you guys, he saved my life! he’s my friend.” lo’ak looks around the group for someone to back him up, but receives nothing but worried looks. 

“my baby bro!” neteyam stands up and places his hands on lo’aks shoulders, “the mighty warrior who faced the killer tulkun, and lived to tell about it, huh?” 

lo’ak shoves his shoulders back as he stands up, pushing his brother off with a hiss. “you guys aren’t listening.” he huffs and walks away down the beach.

“lo’ak, i’m listening.” you shout. 

“lo’ak, come back!” kiri calls for him, but being the stubborn boy he is, he doesn’t listen. 

instead of chasing after him, tsireya decides it’s time for all of you to visit the cove of the ancestors. essentially, their own tree of souls. 

the five of you summon your ilus to the shore, tsireya and rotxo leading the way underwater to a cave. once all of you successfully pass through the waterway, tsireya pulls up to the surface. 

“we are here. this is the cove of the ancestors. our most sacred place.” 

high above you, stacked rocks sit high in the sky in a half-moon shape and floating rocks scatter the sky around it. your eyes take in the new environment, unable to contain the smile that breaks out onto your face. 

as the rest of you travel farther in the water, the sun starts to hide behind the giant planet that pandora orbits around. “eclipse is the best time of day to be here.” 

once the sun disappears and plunges the world around you into darkness. the water in front of you comes to life, a bright light emits from under the water 

“this is it. this is the spirit tree.” tsireya motions with her hand to the glowing water, making you lean over your animal to look down into the ocean. 

“it’s beautiful.” you glance over at tsireya, who nods in agreement. 

“follow me.” she slides off the side of her ilu and into the water, diving down towards the tree. you look over at neteyam, smiling softly at the boy before following her into the water. 

once your eyes open underneath, you’re welcomed by the bright-colored pink leaves of the tree dancing with the current of the water. 

as you swim farther down with everyone, you notice vines cascade down the tree that connect to the sea floor, and schools of orange glowing fish swim throughout the branches. 

tsireya signs with her hands to connect with the tree, making you reach around your back to grab your braid and bring it forward. the pink tendrils emerge from the end of your plait, coiling around a branch. 

instant peace fills your body once you successfully bond with the plant, your eyes flutter shut as you transfer to the ancestral plane. 

the ground beneath your body is warm; the smell of dirt fills your senses, a smell you wish you could bottle up and take back with you to the island. your hands reach out, gripping the blades of glass in your fist. 

you sit up in your spot with your eyes open, realizing you’re back in the forest. trees surround you as the sun beats down on your head, the wind rustles the leaves of the trees. you take a deep breath of the fresh air, before standing up to examine your surroundings. 

something amongst the tree line emerges, making your ears perk up. a forest na’vi. you’re not apprehensive, but more so curious on who this person is. 

as he grows closer, you realize he looks quite familiar. as if you’ve seen him somewhere, maybe he is omatikaya?

“maite?” he speaks the native tongue of the na’vi. the word he spoke makes your heart lurch in your chest; daughter. 

“dad?” you whisper out into the air. he nods at your question, a giant grin forming on his face. 

you can’t help but run forward, almost tackling the man with a hug. the warmth of his body is comforting as he wraps his arms around you, “my daughter. you have grown so much.” one of his hands smooths down the back of your head as you sniffle. 

you pull back to get a good look at him once more, seeing yourself in his face. 

a tear escapes from your eye, but he quickly catches it with one of his four fingers. he tsks, shaking his head, “ma child, do not cry. i must tell you something.” 

you blink rapidly in attempt to fight back your tears, “what is it?” 

“something is coming. a war that needs to be ended between the terran people and us…” before he could continue, the sky above you begins to flash wildly. 

you can feel the connection growing weaker as the world around you starts to chip away, “no! i’m not ready to leave yet.” you cling to him frantically as you look around. 

your father grabs your face, turning you towards him to talk to you directly, “my daughter, you are a strong woman. i have seen what you have overcome. you are the key to everything.” he embraces you once more just before you’re ripped away from each other. 

you let out a scream as you come back to reality, bubbles escaping your mouth. the tree in front of you is beaming wildly, making you look around at the others. 

kiri’s glowing freckles flash in sync with the tree as her body stiffens and shakes involuntarily. you rip your braid away from the tree, swimming over to her along with neteyam. 

you quickly disconnect kiri’s connection with the tree, making the water around you go dark. neteyam wraps his arm around her waist, swimming up back to his ilu with you following. 

he breaches the surface and lays her limp body on the backside of his animal, cradling her in his lap as he gives her air with his own mouth. 

“what is it? what has happened?” tsireya asks from the side.

“it was a seizure. we need to get her back to the village.” neteyam looks down at you, his big eyes full of worry. 

“go! get her to the village!” you urge him.

“let’s go! let’s move!” he calls out to his ilu, making it accelerate speedily back towards home. 

you swim to your ilu, taking one last glance at the darkened tree before taking off after everyone else. once you make it back to the island, you hop off your ilu and sprint through the village to the marui. 

neteyam is outside pacing, stressfully running a hand through his braids. inside, kiri is laid on the floor ontop of a blanket with neytiri and tuk by her side. jake is in the corner, using a radio to talk to norm and max. 

“hey!” you call out to him breathlessly, obviously strained from running all this way.

once he sees you, his tense shoulders drop a little farther away from his ears. he seems so relieved to see you. he steps forward to meet you in the middle, his arms embracing your body tightly. 

“i didn’t know what to do.” he whispers helplessly, his voice strained from the growing lump in his throat. “you did everything you could, ‘teyam. she’s breathing right now because of you.” 

he shakes his head, looking down at his feet between your bodies. you watch his lower lip begin to quiver as his emotions take over. 

your hand cups his cheek to pull him down to you, his face nuzzles into the crook of your neck as his body trembles under your touch. you softly shush him, rubbing his back as he silently weeps into your shoulder. 

once the eclipse ceases, the sun brightens the sky and brings in norm and max with their gear. you sit outside the marui in the sand, not wanting to take up space for them to help kiri. your finger absentmindedly draws shapes in the sand until the sea comes up to wash it away. 

the two sully brothers make their way over to you, neteyam plops down beside you and lo’ak on the other side of him. “what are you doing?” lo’ak asks, peeking over at you with curious eyes. 

“passing time.” you hum softly, giving him a soft smile before it drops off of your face and you look back down at the white sand.

“you okay?” neteyam questions, one of his arms wrap around your shoulders as his head cranes down to look at your face. 

“i’m fine.” you mumble simply, making him pull back from you to shoot lo’ak a worried look. 

the younger boy shrugs, not sure what to do or say. neteyam motions with his head for his brother to leave, which lo’ak complies to but not without a exaggerated sigh. 

“what happened at the spirit tree?” he questions, making your shoulders fall even more. your finger continues to carve patterns into the sand, not daring to look up at him because you know you will cry. 

“nothing, neteyam.” you breathe out, letting your head fall into your bent knees. 

“i will keep bothering you if you don’t tell me.” he softly lets his fingers dance down your back. 

“i..” you trail off, trying to calm down your emotions before you continue, “i saw my father. for the first time at the spirit tree. i was torn away from him, i couldn’t say goodbye and we were back in the forest..” your voice cracks, making your body shudder, “i miss it, i miss it so much.” 

neteyam notices the emotion in your voice, making him pull your body into his side. before he could say anything, lo’ak yells from the far side of the beach. “she’s awake!” 

his head turns to look at his brother, then back down to you, “i’ll be back, okay? stay here.” 

you shake your head as you lift your head, wiping your tears away as you sniffle. “no, no. i’m fine. i want to see her.”

he nods and grabs your hand to bring you back home, “c’mon.” 

kiri is happy to see you, but you’re quickly ushered away by neytiri to let her rest. tuk stays by the girls side the entire time, reading stories to her and getting her anything she possibly could need. 

you decide to lay in one of the hammocks in the marui as your hands make themselves busy by beading a new top for yourself. 

a loud conch horn blows, startling you and making you sit up, “what is that?”

commotion outside of the pod makes you slide out of the hammock to walk outside.

the metkayina leap off of their maruis and into the water, calling their bonded animals to swim out to sea. your eyes look over the busy water in attempt to find out what all the commotion is about. 

you gasp in shock as a tulkun leaps out of the ocean, before falling back into the water with a giant splash. 

“the tulkun have returned! everybody, our brothers and sisters have returned!” tsireya calls out as her people whoop in excitement around her. 

“come on!” neteyam appears from behind you, his hand gripping yours to pull you along to the edge of the walkway. he leaps off with you right behind him, his ilu catching you both. 

he takes off towards the reunion, soaring through the water above the surface until he reaches the chaos of tulkuns and villagers. 

metkayina fly above your heads on their tsuraks, and fill the water with their ilus- it seems every na’vi is out here right now. 

you lean over to look up at neteyam’s face, a giant grin pulled up on his lips. he lets out a little laugh before turning towards you, “this is amazing.” he mumbles in awe. 

everyone begins to dive under the water to greet their brothers and sisters, making you point for him to follow. you both take deep breaths before plunging into the depths of the sea. it’s even more magnificent down here. 

watching the metkayina interact with their tulkuns makes you a tiny bit jealous, wishing you could have a bond like that with such a clever animal. not that the ilu’s aren’t, but the tulkun are family members of the metkayina. 

you hold onto neteyam tightly as his guides his ilu through the water, seemingly leaving the area where the tulkun are meeting. you tap his arm, pointing to go back but he shakes his head no with a little cheeky grin. 

neteyam continues through the ocean, weaving through the rocks and coral, and passing through schools of fish. he finally breaches the surface near the shore, hopping off and pulling himself up onto the bouncy platform. 

“what are we doing? i want to go back.” you grumble, but still take his hand when he reaches out to help you up. “just follow me.” 

he continues to hold your hand, leading you back to the marui. he came back because he wanted to go home? seriously? 

you stop in your tracks, stubbornly refusing to walk inside. “what are you doing?” he questions after head whips towards you, looking you up and down. 

“we came back here just to go home?” you bite back, a little too sassily for his liking. the boy rolls his eyes, and turns around towards you. 

his other hand grips your chin to angle your face up so he could lean down to kiss you. instead of pressing his lips against yours, he hovers. his warm breath fans over your face while his heavy-lidded eyes scan your expression. he’s such a tease. 

“i decided it would be best to use the empty village to finish what we started yesterday.” 

you evidently shudder from his words, a heat growing low in your belly. you guess it makes sense, being all alone and knowing nobody will be coming to bother you guys for a while. 

neteyam lets out a breathy laugh, watching your brain go into overdrive as the thoughts roll through your mind. he uses both of his hands to cup under your jaw as he finally leans in to kiss you. the boy is hungry, and desperate for every single part of you. 

he presses his body weight into your own, making you stumble into the outside wall of the pod. one of his knees spread your legs, slotting itself between your thighs. 

his knee presses against your center, making you suck in a sharp breath. he uses this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips. 

your fingers slightly dig into his sides, in attempt to pull him into you even closer. neteyam leans back from the wall, his mouth still on yours as he leads you inside. 

both pairs of your feet disregard anything on the ground, knocking everything to the side as he guides you to the very back of the marui. he huffs into the kiss, somehow continuing to kiss you as he lays you down on the floor. 

your lips slightly disconnect as your head hits your pillow, giving him a moment to move along your jaw. he leaves wet kisses down your neck, his teeth slightly nipping the skin. 

your hands card through his braids, nails slightly scratching his scalp which earns a melodic purr from him. the sound makes your insides do somersaults, your legs instinctively wrap around his body to pull your hips together. 

another magnificent sound tumbles from his wet lips against your skin. neteyam pauses and lays his forehead against your shoulder. 

“you okay?” your hand pushes his head away from you so you could get a good look at him. 

his eyes dart over your face, “i’m fine, i promise. i just…” he sighs and squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s internally battling himself, “i don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

your face screws up in confusion as you wait for him to continue, “mating is a complicated thing. we are meant to mate before eywa, to make tsaheylu and…” he trails off. 

“and marry… for life.” you add onto his sentence and he nods.

neteyam is not the innocent boy he’s made out to be, and is definitely not traditional with the entire ‘absinence before marriage’ thing, “but you’ve had sex with other girls?” you question him, already knowing the answer to this question. 

word travels fast in the omatikaya clan.

the boy slightly laughs from your question, rolling off of you so he could lay next to you instead. “i have, but they are not you.” 

your heart squeezes in your chest as you smile from his words. “that makes me feel special.” you murmur out into the heated air. 

“that is because you are special. i want our first time to not be rushed.” he confesses with a huff.

you roll over onto him, one of your legs crossing over his hips as your head rests on his chest. you listen to his quickened heartbeat begin to slow down, “ma neteyam, i see you.” 

“i see you.” he replies and presses a kiss against your forehead. 

the two of you lay there in silence wrapped in each others embrace and growing more sleepy by the second. soon, gray clouds cover the blue sky and raindrops patter against the roof of the marui. 

you and neteyam are tangled together as you drift off to sleep in each others arms. 

the rest of sully family returns from the celebration of the tulkun arriving, walking in on you two sleeping alongside each other. 

“aww, they’re so cute!” tuk whispers as she sneaks over to you both, pulling a blanket over your bodies. 

they continue on quietly inside the hut, preparing dinner and lighting a fire. 

once you awaken, neteyam is no longer next to you and instead is replaced by a pillow. you turn over onto your side to see him sitting with his parents talking, making them laugh as always. 

until tonowari appears in front of the entrance, making your blood run cold. their soft chatter halts as jake and neytiri get up to walk outside to speak to him. 

neytiri is the first to come back in, huffing frustratingly as she busies herself by cutting up food on a board. 

“mom? what’s going on?” neteyam questions quietly, almost whispering. 

you take the moment to close your eyes, pretending to still be asleep so you could listen. 

“the sky people- they are here looking for us. destroying villages. tearing them apart.” her chopping grows more erratic. somebody walks inside of the hut, most likely jake, that sits down next to neytiri and neteyam. 

“we must hunt this demon. trap him. kill him.” she begs desperately. 

“we’ve got to be smart. if we hit quartich they’re gonna know where we are and they’re gonna come here with everything they’ve got.” jake explains to neytiri. 

“then what is our plan?” she huffs. 

“i don’t have one right now. i need to speak more with tonowari.” jake sighs. 

“dad, i can fight whenever the time comes. i will train y/n too. she will be a great warrior alongside me.” his offer makes your heart soar into the clouds. 

“good idea, boy. help her with her combat skills so she can fight when the time comes.“ jake agrees. 

….

neteyam has accompanied lo’ak out in the water, by the order of his parents to ‘keep an eye on him,’ but you weren’t invited.

you’re left with kiri and tuk to help prepare dinner, but every movement you make is exaggerated from your attitude.  

kiri and tuk glance at each other worryingly, wondering what has gotten you in this mood.

you huff as you shove the cutting board away from you, swiftly standing on your feet to storm away from them to your designated corner. you pull out a book to read, eyes skimming over the pages that you dread reading. 

“ugh!” you groan to yourself, slamming the book shut and turning over on your side to stare at the weaved wall. 

kiri and tuk turn to look at you, then they glance at each other again. tuk stands up from her spot, slowly creeping over to you. her soft voice calls out your name, making your tense shoulders drop slightly. 

your head angles back to look at her, “hey tuk.” 

“are you okay?” she sits down, folding her legs under her body. 

“i’m okay. i just have a lot on my mind.” you slightly laugh to keep your problems humorous instead of sulking. 

“do you want some food? me and kiri can make you something!” she chirps happily and slightly bounces in her seat. 

“no, no. i’m okay, really. i’m not hungry.” you mumble. 

“then… do you want to go out to the beach and play?” she asks a little shyly. 

as much as you would like to rot away in this corner, you cannot say no to her. “of course. let’s go, tuk.” 

the girl squeals in excitement and grabs your hand to help you stand up. she pulls you outside and down to the beach, “let’s build a sand castle!” she plops down on the ground and starts to pile the sand. 

you sit down next to her to help push the sand, patting down the wet stuff that stays into place. tuk starts to build up towers, looking a little wonky which makes her giggle. 

her eyes glance up, then back down at the castle before she double-takes something behind you, “uh oh.” she looks really worried, making your head turn to see what she is looking at. 

your heart drops at the sight of tonowari leading lo’ak, tsireya, ao’nung, rotxo, and neteyam to the center of the village with ronal tailing them.

“oh shit.” you mutter out as your eyes stay glued to them as they walk by on the walkway. “i wonder what happened to get them escorted by them.” you snort as you continue to help tuk build the castle. 

“probably something bad… like always.” she rolls her eyes as she pats down the sand to make the top flat. 

you continue to slap sand higher up and dig little holes with your fingers that are supposed to be windows. tuk finally finishes it off with a few shells to decorate it, clapping her hands with a laugh. “all done!” she stands up to walk to the water and rinse her hands off, which you do the same. 

just as you both are about to go back home, neteyam rushes by following his parents who are following lo’ak. 

“mom!” tuk yells out, making neytiri turn her heads toward you both. 

“tuk! what are you doing?” she looks over you, then at the mound of sand behind you. “come.” she ushers you both with her hand. 

“let’s go, tuktuk.” you lift the little girl onto the walkway before climbing up yourself to follow them. she quickly grabs ahold of her mothers hand before she is rushed away. 

neteyam slows down to walk beside you, “so what happened now?” you ask flatly. 

“lo’ak, he bonded with the outcast. payakan is not the killer he is made out to be and tsireya’s parents don’t believe him.” neteyam whispers to you.

“i could have told you that.” you almost laugh, “i wish i would have been there to see.” 

“i should have brought you, i’m sorry.” he glances at you in his peripheral vision. 

“it’s okay, nete. i had fun with tuk anyway.” you hum as you lean into his side. his arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders, “more fun than me?”

“oh, of course she is more fun than you.” you play around. he jokingly grabs his chest as if he was stabbed, “ouch. that hurt.”

“i’m sorry. do you want me to kiss it better?” you make fake puppy-dog eyes, blinking up at him through your eyelashes. 

neteyam goes to answer but he’s cut off by thunder cracking in the sky. rain suddenly starts to downpour, making you squeal and run the rest of the way to the marui. 

kiri had finished dinner for the family once you all arrived, the smell of the food makes your stomach rumble alongside the clouds. you didn’t realize how hungry you were. 

mid-bite, tonowari and ronal appear at the entrance of the pods, “a deceased tulkun was spotted outside of the reef. we need to hurry.” tonowari calls for neytiri and jake. 

“everybody stay here. neteyam, you’re in charge.” jake orders as he leaves with neytiri. 

all of a sudden, your food doesn’t look as apetitizing as before. you swallow the last bit left in your mouth, your worried eyes glance over the rest of the sully family. 

“a tulkun… dead?” kiri lets out an exhale. 

“it better not be payakan. i need to go see if he’s okay.” lo’ak goes to stand but neteyam is quick on his feet. 

“you can’t leave. it’s not safe.” he gently pushes his brother back, but lo’ak puts up a fight. 

“i don’t care. let me through.” the younger boy tries to get around him, but neteyam steps in front of him again. 

“no. it’s them. they’re here looking for us, bro. the rda. the sky people.” neteyam warns him. lo’ak stops his efforts of trying to escape, taking a step back. 

“they’re here?” kiri looks around worriedly, “do they have spider with them?” 

neteyam looks at kiri over his brothers shoulder, “i don’t know, but i know they just burnt down an entire village not too far from here all because they couldn’t find anything.” 

your heart sinks as you listen to neteyam. 

are the sky people really going to find you and the sully family? if they would burn down an entire village for not finding any information, what will they do if they find you here?

-

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah @bellwhether @xoxobabe @koalalafications @embersfae @mae-is-crazy @softhetixx @minkyungseokie @iwanttohitmyself @neqeyam @lovedbychoi @lala-1516 @jbxws @ancientbeing10 @angrycoffeebean @taleiak @nyenye @vivangothic @theunfortunateplace @jakesully-sbabygirl @urdeadpoet

also same thing goes for this one. no feedback = blocked (jk) 😈

[doobea]

SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: Your boyfriend doesn't realize how important little things are to you until it's a bit too late.

contents: established relationship, slight hurt and comfort??, slight jealousy, sfw, nagi struggling trying to process emotional needs of others - what else is new, also nagi centric, college au, mentions of fraternity formals, gn!reader, idk i hc'd nagi to be a compsci major but up to debate ig word count: 1.6K a/n: title is based off of tyler the creators song hehe its my fav from his album and omg thank u nagi for breaking me out of this writer's block, inspired by @celestair for the idea!!

Nagi hadn't really expected you to get so excited about attending his chapter formal. Hell, he didn't even know that they were going to have one in the first place if it weren't for Reo bringing it up in a passing conversation last week in your dorm room.

"We should go!" You said, and he remembers you hopping out of your seat, abandoning your assignment, and dashing immediately towards your closet for an outfit.

"Should we?" Nagi questioned, a frown creeping its way to his lips.

Reo slumped his arm over Nagi's shoulder, tugging the male slightly into his chest. "C'mon, why are you even paying the dues if you don't attend our events?" Reo sounded annoyed.

Nagi shrugged and went back to his phone, resuming the level of whatever popular gacha game that was released for that month. "Because you said it would look good on my resume or something." He answered flatly.

Of course, Nagi knew that he couldn't say no to this. As much as he would love to, once you and Reo were both set on something it's almost impossible to try and coax you two out of it. Nagi is pretty sure that this formal is going to be the bane of his college existence and that his computer science classes are, arguably, now the easiest part.

"It's too loud in here." Nagi wanted to go home the moment he stepped out of his best friend's rented limo. He feels too stiff with the suit he's currently wearing, the cologne is starting to overwhelm his senses, and he really didn't like the fact there's already a fuckton of people inside the venue.

Everything feels too congested.

The three of you take a seat at a table shared by Nagi's other 'brothers' and their dates. He really doesn't remember anyone's faces aside from maybe one or two from his classes, so he's confused when a handful of them start greeting him with fist bumps. All of which he awkwardly returns. Something about long-living brotherhood? Nagi didn't quite catch what they said.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Reo shouts over the music as he starts to get up.

"A cranberry vodka would be nice." You gently tug on Nagi's sleeve, attempting to break his unyielding attention from his phone. Reo had set a rule before they left, and it's a mobile game and social media app ban at the table. So, naturally, Nagi is stuck analyzing the weather app. "Do you want anything, Sei?"

Looks like tomorrow there's going to be a slight chance of rain which is pretty awesome, he thinks.

"Hm? Oh, whatever you're having, I guess."

Nagi misses the way your smile fades. "Um, make that two cranberry vodkas?"

"Ah," Reo stumbles around with his words for a bit before nodding away. "Sure, be back in a minute."

"Sei," Your voice is closer this time, lips almost pressed up to his ears to minimize the booming music in the background. "Wanna go on the dance floor later?"

Nagi pauses his thumb, hovering over a random European map, and he's already internally shrinking from the idea. "Do I have to?"

You laugh, it sounds a little forced. "Only if you're up for it."

He shrugs and eyes the surrounding area. The dance floor looks semi-packed at the moment and everyone looks equally semi-buzzed. Sitting at the table sounds better in his head. "I think I'll stay here but you can go on ahead."

"Oh," You exhale through your nose and laugh again. "Okay, if that's what you want!"

"Mhm," He hums back and settles his head down at the table, feeling almost exhausted despite not having to do much today.

Nagi doesn't notice that he's alone at the table until the DJ starts signaling everyone in the venue to pay attention to a couple on the dance floor. He only looks up when he hears Reo's name getting called out and starts to straighten his back when he sees you dancing hand in hand with him. The sight leaves Nagi gnawing the insides of his cheeks.

"Hey," Nagi turns to see two of his fraternity brothers looking at him with a bit of concern and he's not sure why that's making him feel uneasy.

"You good there?" Isagi asks, careful to sound casual, but Nagi picks up on it.

"What?" Nagi frowns, connecting the dots together. "It's fine. I don't really care about them doing stuff together anyway." It's a vague statement. Maybe purposefully vague.

"Eh? You sure about that, Nagi?" Bachira presses.

Nagi frowns again, tips his head down, and is in deep thought. "I'm actually not sure." He finally admits. Nagi is currently fighting off a weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe it's just the drink he had earlier.

He's always been fine with Reo keeping you company whenever he isn't in the mood. Whether it be eating with you in the dining halls, attending movies together, going to the mall, and so forth. Dancing isn't off the list either. He's seen the two of you dance before but isn't sure why this is setting him off. Maybe it's the thought of you being happier without him in your life that is eating him away.

"Shit, he's walking over."

"Waah, let's go!"

It doesn't occur to Nagi that Reo's in front of him until his best friend clears his throat. Reo puts a hand on Nagi's shoulder and gives him one of those looks. A look that insinuates something big that he can't place a finger on but knows it's full of negative nuance.

"Don't be an ass right now," is all that Reo says.

"An ass?" Nagi echoes.

He allows Reo to tug him out of his seat and Nagi almost feels lethargic from how long he's been sitting down. A final push towards the edge of the dance floor is when he catches your sullen figure.

"I'm surprised that you haven't caught on," Reo continues after a while. Nagi recognizes the tone. He doesn't say anything more, and Nagi appreciates it that much, at least.

It's funny how much his mood is able to shift. First from feeling annoyed, to borderline sleepy, to determined. Nagi thinks he's finally learning how to read his relationship with you.

It's only when he's inches apart that he realizes that you're on the verge of tears. Nagi instinctively reaches out his hands and softly cups your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across in his attempt to calm you.

What's wrong, he wants to ask but he already knows the answer to that. He feels bad for complaining all week, but he feels even worse for essentially abandoning your needs for god knows how long.

Nagi chews on his lips as a new idea starts to brew. It's an uncharacteristic idea. An idea that pushes him to become a new version of himself—the person he wants to be but struggling to understand.

"Hey," Nagi calls out your name slowly. "Can I dance with you?" You open your mouth—probably to say it's okay and you'd rather not make him uncomfortable—but Nagi continues before you can get a word in, before your tears start falling. "I'm sorry, I should've paid closer attention." He says in a whisper.

You fall silent and Nagi is wondering if he's said something he shouldn't have. He quietly peers over at Reo who's aggressively nodding his head, throwing a thumbs up across the room. You shift awkwardly in place before giving Nagi a faint smile.

"I would like that," You sound a little hesitant, but surprisingly welcoming to the suggestion. "I mean, if you're okay with it?"

"Don't worry about what I think, you've done plenty for me already." And he means it.

Nagi migrates his hands from your face to your waist as the music shifts to something slower, more tender, and sweet. It's obvious to everyone in the room that you two are a little nervous and it's almost laughable. He's been dating you just shy of a year and has never once offered to dance with you. It comes as no shock to him that you're growing shy under his touch and movements, despite being together countless times. This feels different to Nagi, and he's positive you're thinking the same thing.

It takes a while, maybe because you're both getting used to this foreign feeling, but you eventually wrap your arms around his neck and hug closer to his body. Somehow, that short circuits Nagi's brain and he freezes in place.

"Sei, is everything alright?"

There's a wave of guilt that washes over his eyes. This act is weighing Nagi down, more than he wants to admit, and he has to pull away. Eyes glued to the ground because if he looks at you he'll start to feel nervous, confused, and small.

"Sorry, I'm... trying my best."

"Sei, it's okay." It's your turn to rub your hands across his cheeks and he doesn't realize that he's flushed in the face until you comment. "You're warm."

"Sorry," He doesn't know why he's apologizing again. For being flustered? Not knowing how to dance? Or afraid of disappointing you again? He thinks it's a mixture of all three.

"Hey, as long as you're trying then I'm proud of you." You reply with ease.

You're always kind to him. Most times, you don't push him more than what he's willing to give and maybe that's why he's comfortable around you. Even if he does know you're silently judging his actions but it's okay, because it's you. But he also knows that he's been taking advantage of this trait and it sucks having to find this out tonight.

Nagi nods. You're right, he doesn't need to worry about anything else but you in this moment.

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

  “This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel. 

  Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years. 

  You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear. 

  “I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.” 

  Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life. 

  “I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly. 

  One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most  beautiful girl, you know that right?”

  Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

  “..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

  His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him. 

  His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

  “You ready, baby?” 

  For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold. 

——

  Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck. 

  The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

   “high risk” 

“Possible death during childbirth” 

  He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly. 

  He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

  He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone. 

  Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson. 

  His mother. 

His child.

  It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

  What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath? 

  Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.  

  What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under. 

  His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell. 

  He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

  His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”. 

  His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep. 

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.” 

  Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver. 

  Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there. 

  Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

  When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered. 

  A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room. 

  “She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

  Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.” 

  He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

  Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.  

  “Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

  “Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.” 

  Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

  He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child. 

  Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

  “No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

  “Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

  Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

  “That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

  Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

  “You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.” 

  The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains. 

  Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable. 

  Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition. 

  Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers. 

  “The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

  “…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.” 

  The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

  The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy. 

  You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land. 

  But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality. 

  Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face. 

  Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him. 

  You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him. 

  He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same? 

  The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever. 

  The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him. 

  —

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too. 

  “I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt. 

  Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.” 

  Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud. 

  The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself. 

  That was when the nightmares started. 

  —

  “She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults. 

  Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

  Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

  “So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

  Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.” 

  “Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

  Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

  His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity. 

  “Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.” 

  An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.” 

  He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting. 

  “Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

  “I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist. 

  No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes. 

  Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

  “No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

  Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand. 

  He’d take care of you just like he promised.

  Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

  —

  The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would. 

  After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

  Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain. 

  The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both. 

  And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day. 

  When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

  Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly. 

  A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?” 

  He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did. 

  An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

  His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm. 

  He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you. 

  The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night. 

  Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night. 

  And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours. 

  “You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around  to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.” 

  The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.” 

  You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror. 

  The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

  “My girl,” he promised. 

  The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again. 

  —

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?” 

  The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner. 

  A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

  Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.” 

  “You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip. 

  He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.” 

  “I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

  “She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.” 

  The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

  Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside. 

  He loved you, and you loved him. End of story. 

  Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration. 

  Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?” 

  Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could. 

  You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss. 

  An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.” 

  Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.” 

  Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.” 

  You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated. 

  — 

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in. 

  He was a saint. 

  He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you  as he pulled you deeper into him.

  Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately. 

  Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

  His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.” 

  You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?” 

  “Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.” 

  Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep. 

  But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed.  Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons. 

  The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life. 

  The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes. 

  “Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head. 

  You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes. 

  “We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.” 

  Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.” 

  The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

  The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips. 

  To hell and back. 

[saigethearies]

(fem!reader, mentions of insecurity and self-consciousness)

<3

sometimes you felt as if your boyfriend iwaizumi’s friends didn’t like you.

they always seemed to…laugh whenever you were around. you weren’t sure what was funny to them exactly but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you were the one being looked at as a joke.

you had begun to avoid being around iwa whenever you knew he was with his friends because you just couldn’t help how self-conscious you were becoming around them.

one friday afternoon, however, you found yourself heading towards the gymnasium. your boyfriend had promised a boba date once he was done with practice. he should be the only one left, since oikawa and him started to take turns on who was gonna stay longer to finish locking up.

“haji bear!” you chimed happily, almost skipping into the gym you were so excited.

unfortunately, instead of your boyfriend, you were met with the sound of someone snorting in amusement.

“haji bear?” makki questions between chuckles, mattsun and oikawa also bursting out into laughs beside him. “he actually lets you call him that?”

you shrunk in on yourself, that familiar sensation of insecurity swirling in the pits of your stomach. you hadn’t even been there for more than fifteen seconds and they were already laughing at you. again.

“what other pet names do you have for him? hajikins? haji pie?” mattsun asks, continuing off of the bit makki started.

“please, gentlemen, im sure she’s more creative than that,” oikawa said. “she probably has some nice rhyming ones that iwa-chan just loves.”

their chorus of chortles increased in volume, and you stood there feeling like a stupid and silly girl.

until they heard a small sniffle and every single one of them went silent.

the three men began to watch on as your eyes got glassy, shoulders starting to slightly shake.

“why do you guys- sniffle- always have to make fun of me?”

finally voicing the thought you’d kept to yourself for weeks had your tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes squeezed shut as little sobs left you.

that’s when the expressions on your onlookers faces turned into ones of horror.

you heard three bodies shuffling towards you, a pair of hands coming to rest on your shoulders and panicked voices sounding off around you.

“it’s not like that! we swear! we’d never try to make fun of you!”

“makki’s right! we’d never purposely make a sweet thing like yourself upset! promise!”

the hands on your shoulders gave a small squeeze. “what mattsun said, we weren’t trying to offend you, cutie! we just think it’s so funny someone as bubbly as you is dating someone as grumpy as our-“

“what the actual hell is going on here?”

the trio surrounding you froze, and everyone turned to look at iwaizuimi, signature scowl present on his face.

at the sight of tears on your face and the deer-in-headlights look all of his friends sported, however, his scowl nearly became a snarl.

“what did you three dumbasses do to her?”

oikawa released his hold on your shoulders immediately, having more familiarity with iwa’s wrath than anyone else. “just a little misunderstanding! that’s all!”

your boyfriend walked forwards, pulling you away from his teammates so that he could tuck you safely into his side. he immediately felt you hold onto his arm, small sniffles still being heard.

“and what exactly was this ‘misunderstanding’?”

“we heard her refer to you as haji bear and we laughed because we thought it was funny! that’s all!” makki answered in a rush, hands coming up as if in surrender.

“we weren’t intentionally trying to hurt her feelings, iwa, swear,” mattsun added.

“but we understand how our actions came across and take full accountability for accidentally bringing tears to eyes of lady iwa-chan!”

oikawa sounded out of breath by the time he was done talking, trying to come about the situation in the most emotionally intelligent way that he could to avoid getting smacked in the back of the head.

iwa regarded all of his friends carefully, each of them still looking incredibly nervous. he then turned his gaze to you, eyes meeting your still watery ones staring back up at him.

“they telling the truth, doll?”

you gave a small nod. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened. i…i believe what they’re saying.”

you heard the three of them all sigh in relief. was your haji bear really that scary to them?

“we’re really sorry we upset you!”

“we weren’t making fun of you, pinky promise.”

“we just always find it funny how someone as sunny as you is doting on our grumpy iwa-chan.”

you gave them a small smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders now that you finally understood what was always so humorous to them. “apology accepted.”

you heard your boyfriend huff. “i guess it’s easy to judge my relationship when none of you have your own to worry about.”

the look of offense that flashed across the three faces in front of you almost had you laughing.

long story short, iwaizumi doesn’t let anyone mess with you.

not even his best friends.

[leennaan]

Alessia Russo // Take on the world pt2

Here it is. Part two of „Take on the world“

Pt1 can be found here

Warnings: mentions of death and mental health problems. It’s not very detailed but it is mentioned so if that triggers you don’t read it. Take care of yourself.

With that being said, enjoy reading💕

———————————————————————

A few weeks had gone by since Alessia and Lotte had left the states, but the Corona situation had only worsened since then.

You left Chaphill a week after the two English girls to go back to your family in New York.

Alessia and you called each other daily. Sometimes you called her in the morning, and you would make breakfast for yourself and your little sister while she ate lunch or did her exercises. Sometimes it would already be night in England, and you would talk about your day while the blonde would just listen to you until she fell asleep.

The distance was hard for you both, as you were used to being in close proximity 24/7, but you managed.

But it got harder and harder when your girlfriend called you less and less. When you did talk to each other, you could sense that something was wrong, but you didn’t want to pressure Lessi.

When Alessia hadn’t talked to you in over two days with not even a text, you got worried.

You were scared that you had done anything. That she didn’t love you anymore. But also, maybe something had happened. Whenever the two of you talked, she looked drained with swollen and red-rimmed eyes. She looked like she had cried a lot, and it made you sick that you didn’t know what had happened to her.

So on the second day, she hadn’t called or answered your text, so you decided to call Lotte.

„Hey Y/N. What happened? You look like you cried."

Lotte had answered the second you dialed her number.

A son escaped your lips, and Lotte was instantly concerned.

„Calm down. Talk to me. What’s going on?"

„Lessi, she, I think she, she wants to break up with me."

You sobbed.

„Lessi wants what? Why would you say that? That girl is heads over heels in love with you.“

Lotte looked at you like you had lost your head or something. A few days ago, you would have believed her in an instant, but now you're not so sure.

"She hasn’t called me or answered my text in the last two days. That’s so unlike her. She called me even two or three times a day not many days ago, and then it got less and less, and the texts got shorter and shorter, and now she stopped altogether.“

You explained to Lotte, who looked more and more worried.

„Y/n I don’t think that that has anything to do with you. She hasn’t talked to me either, and the last time we talked, she looked so tired and sad."

Now you felt really bad. You had noticed that something was up with your girlfriend, but instead of trying to help her, you got stuck in your own head.

"You are right, Lotts. She looked like she had cried a lot when we last talked.“

„You know what? I will drive over tomorrow and look at how she is doing. I call you when I know more."

„Thank you, Lotts. I feel so stupid. I should have released that something wasn’t right. I wish I was with you guys. I want to help Lessi, but I feel like I am too far away.“

It took you a few hours to comprehend what Lotte had said.

You really felt dumb. The way you noticed her red and swollen eyes, her small voice when she talked, the way she seemed to be miles away—never once had you thought about why she was like that. Your mind had gone straight to thinking she would break up with you.

Now angry at yourself, you threw your mobile phone across the room, only to scramble to your feet and quickly make your way over to it when it started ringing.

You looked at your screen, which read “star girl." Stunned, you looked at the clock. It was around 3 a.m. in the morning in London. Now concerned about Alessia, you quickly accepted the face-time call.

You could barely make Alessia out in the darkness of her room, but you could definitely hear her sniffling.

“Lessi Baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned, but she didn’t answer you.

"Baby, you scare me. You can talk to me; you know that, right?” It was silent for a few seconds, but it felt like hours until the blonde quietly started to talk.

"He, he is gone, Y/N."

Immediately, your heart sank. "They said he was better; they said he would be released soon. I don’t know what to do; y/n, he is gone.“

You watched as Alessia started to cry, and you wished nothing more than to be there with her. To be able to hold her. You knew she was talking about her grandpa. The situation in Italy was still tense. A lot of people were dying because of COVID, but until now, no one close to you was affected. Now that had changed, and you couldn’t imagine how Alessia must feel.

„Baby I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you. Is there anything I can do for you?“ You asked, now hating this whole situation even more.

Alessia's blue eyes were chiming with tears, and you had to fight back your own. Seeing Alessia like this broke you.

„Can you just talk to me? I haven’t slept since yesterday, when we got the call. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face."

„Of course I can. Anything specific?“ Your girlfriend shook her head.

„My parents are thinking of adopting a dog. They said that with me and also my sister going to college next year, they will be lonely. I felt betrayed that now that I am out of the house, they want a dog. You know I wanted one since I was little.“

And so you talked to her for the next few hours. Here and there, Alessia would hum or nod her head at you to show that she was listening. Slowly, you noticed her eyelids dropping and watched her fall into a restless sleep.

You stayed on the phone even after she fell asleep. As you watched her, a lone tear made its way down your cheek.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling slightly disoriented. You grabbed your phone from where it lay next to you.

Alessia had sent you a thank-you text and had wished you a good day.

That’s how the next few days went. At first, Alessia called you after she couldn’t fall asleep for hours, but you couldn’t see her struggling even more, so you started to call her around six p.m. London time. Often, Alessia just wanted to hear your voice, and you obliged, telling her about your day. One day you even played on your guitar after what felt like years. You started playing when you were little, but it got less and less in recent years. Now you were singing for her songs that you thought she liked or that she requested.

She didn’t know that you could play or sing, but she loved it, and so did you.

It kind of got therapeutic for you too, and slowly you started playing for yourself again, even when you were not talking to Alessia.

When the summer neared, you got increasingly excited.

Alessia was feeling better; at least that was what she told you.

You could still see the pain in her eyes, and you knew that she wasn’t as well as she said, but she was slowly getting there. Her smiles became more real again, and you knew she slept better because the begs under her eyes got less prominent.

Around early June, you went back to campus, and this time you took your guitar with you.

Over the last few weeks, you even started to write little songs. Nothing was good in your opinion, but it helped you sort out your thoughts.

Alessia and Lotte called you one afternoon when you were sitting in your dorm room with your guitar in hand, and they were both really buzzing. You felt the good energy as soon as you accepted the call.

„We are coming back!“ Was the first thing that Allesia shouted.

„Wait what?“ You asked, perplexed.

„Yes, we just booked our flight for next week. The restrictions aren’t as bad as before, and we want to get back as soon as possible. I know Blondie over here has missed you an awful lot, but I missed you almost as much," answered Lotte, and you couldn’t help the big grin that spread over your face when Alessia punched Lotte lightly on the shoulder.

„No way, guys, I am so excited. When are you back? I’ll pick you up from the airport. I can’t believe it. I missed you both. Campus and everything just isn’t the same without you Brits.“ You laughed.

That’s how you found yourself in the airport in North Carolina only five days later, impatiently waiting for the two girls to arrive.

And with almost one and a half hours of delay, they landed. As soon as you saw Alessia, you couldn’t help yourself, and you sprinted right into her arms. She had dropped her luggage to be able to hoist you up into her arms. You wrapped your legs around her waist, clinging to her like a koala.

„Oh how I have missed you." Whispered Lessi into your ear, not letting go of you. You answered by kissing her. It felt so good to have her lips on yours again.

After what felt like hours but in reality were only a few seconds, Lotte interrupted you two. „I know you guys love each other and missed each other so much, but I also missed you. Can I at least get a hug?“

Both Lessi and you couldn’t help but laugh before your girlfriend let you down, and you hugged Lotte. „I missed you too, Lotts.“

The next few weeks were the best you had for a while. Being able to spend time with your girlfriend made you extremely happy, and you could see that Alessia was feeling better too.

Of course, there were days when she was feeling down, but being able to just hug you was enough to make her better.

On days she was feeling especially down, you would get out your guitar and play something for her. You even taught her a few accords.

But soon you noticed that not all things were back to perfect.

At training, there was uncertainty about stuff and players. No one knew what the season would bring.

It wasn’t decided whether the games would be held as normal or if there would even be a college cup.

Training was hard if no one knew what they trained for.

You noticed that Lotte and Alessia were not happy with the situation.

„When we don’t have games, we are losing our opportunities.“ Said Lotte one evening when you were sitting together with the whole team. Of course, she was right. Without games to watch for national or club coaches, they would lose their spot on the national team and chances for a professional contract after college.

„I talked with the guffer today. He said he has no idea what’s going to happen this season. I also asked my brother what I should do. He recommended looking for offers back in England.“ Said Alessia while she was cuddled by your side. You didn’t want the girls to leave again, but you knew the situation would probably be the best. „What about you guys? Do you consider playing outside the U.S.?“ asked Lois. You watched as your friends answered. „I don’t know. My dream was always to play in the NWSL. It doesn’t really matter to me anyway. I‘ve got two years of college left, and my mother would literally disown me if I dropped out.“ The fact that you were a year younger than most of your close friends and girlfriend just hit you. Knowing that you would be left behind for a year even without this whole Corona thing going on.

Alessia noticed that your mind was starting to wander. Your habit of overthinking is getting the better of you again. So you hadn’t noticed her standing up. Only once did she pull you towards her, carefully maneuvering you out of the room.

„Baby breath. Breath. I am here. Follow my breathing. That’s it, baby. Slowly. Yes. There you are.“ Slowly, your breathing settled down.

„I don’t want you to leave. Not again.“ You whispered, and Alessia pulled you against her. Wrapping her strong arms around your body. „No matter what. I'll always love you. I know it was hard for us both, but we can do it again. I will visit whenever I can, and I promise you I will always be one call away. I know it may not seem like this right now, but I know for sure that you and I are forever.“ She kissed you hard, like a promise.

Your eyes were still closed when she pulled away slightly.

„I know we are still young…“ You felt her move away from your body and watched her get a jewelry box out. You opened your mouth, but she interrupted you. "Don't worry, I am not proposing. At least not yet.“ You couldn’t help but chuckle.

"It's a promise ring. I promise that I will never desert you. I promise that one day I will go down on that knee. A promise of a future together. "I promise that even though there might be thousands of kilometers between us, I will always be there for you.“ Tears streamed down your face as you watched her. Heart racing, you put your hand out for her to put the ring on your finger. „Not yet, baby. There is something on the inside I want you to look at."

Carefully, you grabbed the ring. Written in cursive were the words ‚We will take on the world‘ a sentence that both of you had repeatedly said to each other.

„I love you so much.“ You said this, grabbing her face with your hands and kissing her hard.

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I am already working on Pt 3 which will also be the final part

Always open to feedback ☺️

[tboywriter]

Crush | Angus Tully x reader

pictures not mine, edit is mine gender neutral reader edited: no (might edit in future) warnings: angst(?), swearing, drinking/drunkenness, weirdly-written pov, disappointed "parents", idrk summary: Angus and reader are both pining but all it takes is a little alcohol to fix that. -> Hunham isn't fired, reader goes to Barton a/n: I'm so glad the internet loves this man as much as I do. This movie got me to write again so I'm just glad for that. I might post more for him, idk. Let me know if you want some shorter stuff. I tried to capture Angus's dorkiness but IDK how well that turned out, LOL!

♡ ♡ ♡

“God, that was so nerve-wracking!”

“Really?” He smirked. “You didn’t look nervous when you were up there practically singing your heart out.”

“I mean it! My heart’s going so fast! Here, feel it.” Before he could process what you meant you had already grabbed his hand and stuck it flat against your chest. He could feel the thumping, rhythmically beating faster than usual, but mostly he was fixated on his hand being pressed against your body. His eyes widened a little, staring at your hand that still held his, his mouth parted ever so slightly. 

His face became flushed as you rambled on about the presentation and how you worried about how it might affect your grade. He envied you in that moment, able to be so normal about something as intimate as this. He wanted to move his hand lower, feel more of your chest, but instead you released his hand and he returned it to his side. 

You didn’t notice how quiet he was, trying to stop his mind from going to places he didn’t want you to know about. He nodded along whenever you looked up at him and laughed when you laughed but his eyes flitted between your neck and your lips. 

He noticed he was walking at some point, didn’t even realize he was moving until you stopped in front of the door to your room. You walked inside, turning when he didn’t follow. “Coming in?”

He shook his head, effectively shaking his wandering mind free of dirty thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” You sigh, flopping on the bed. “What do you want to do?” He stood awkwardly beside you, his hands in his pockets. Laughing, you pat the spot next to you. “Relax, what are you so on edge for?” Right. This wasn’t something unusual. You two often came to each other’s rooms and lounged around. 

He didn’t smile back but he could feel his cheeks heating up. He only hoped you wouldn’t notice– “You okay?” You sat up, leaning against the headboard and staring into his eyes as he sat down across from you. 

“Yeah, sorry, my mind is somewhere else.”

“Yeah? Where else?” You tilted your head slightly, like a puppy diligently listening to their owner.

“Nowhere.” You didn’t press, you never did. He’d tell you if he really wanted to, no sense in annoying him about it. After that fateful Christmas break that brought you two together, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about his dad every time he began to stare off into space.

You’d met because of circumstance. The only two ‘holdovers’ left at Barton academy. Angus’s parents couldn’t be contacted and you couldn’t stand the thought of spending three weeks with the biggest jerk in school. It’d be much nicer to spend the weeks alone, reading in your room– or studying as Mr. Hunham originally governed. Instead you got to, albeit unintentionally, sort out your trauma together. Who knew Librium was such a popular drug?

“You wanna go see if Mary’s got the Match Game on? I kind of just want to sit on the couch.�� He nodded.  

Mary was in fact in front of the TV and Mr. Hunham, a bit unexpectedly, was too. They shared the couch facing the screen although sat on each of the ends, as far away from each other as possible. Mary and Mr. Hunham both liked their respective routines: Mary’s was to relax each night with game shows and Hunham’s to be alone… somewhere. 

You and Angus entered the room silently and sat on the adjacent couch, considerably closer than the two adults. Angus grabbed a pillow and handed it to you before grabbing one for himself and hugging it. He leaned back into the cushions, tired eyes lazing towards the television. You had a similar approach, putting the pillow on the arm rest and lying down, legs tucked in. 

When you woke up, you were just as you were when you first sat down. Only now there was a blanket draped over you. You peeked over the blanket to see where Angus had taken up the same position you had on the opposite armrest. He was rubbing his eyes currently, only just have woken up himself.

He winced as he stood up and stretched out. You smiled, his long legs must hurt from being curled into that awkward position all night. 

Mary walked in, fully dressed in her uniform. “Good, you two are up. I didn’t want to have to wake you. Hurry back to your rooms, it’s already 7:15.” You glanced at the clock to confirm. 

“Shit!” Angus exclaimed but then rescinded under Mary’s disapproving gaze. “Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. Mary, why didn��t you wake us up last night?”

She put a hand on her hip. “Why should that be my job? Anyways, I fell asleep too. Only one who didn’t was Hunham who was gone when I woke up.” 

“Fair point.” Turning to you, Angus got caught in his own tracks. He meant to quip a ‘let’s go’ and begin to head back but he was instead met by you, still leaning against the pillow with slightly tousled hair and half-open eyes. 

Mary had left at this point, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at one another for a couple moments. You broke it by standing up next to him, slowly and steadily. “Guess we should get ready for breakfast, huh?”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah.”

♡

After breakfast, you and Angus didn’t see each other until your Laws and Government class. He usually sat in the back corner, unseen and unheard, but you preferred the front so you could pay better attention. Instead, a compromise was made, and the two of you now sat in the center of the room. 

The teacher of the class was a highly pompous and old-fashioned old man. His hair was stark white and his cheeks and nose glowed red. He’d almost look like Santa Claus if it weren’t for his contant scowl. Worst of all, he hated uniqueness. If you didn’t kiss up to his highly conservative values then you weren’t getting an A. And you needed an A. 

He was handing back the scores from the oral presentations you had the day prior. The one that made your heart jump out of your chest and into Angus’s unexpecting hands. You both looked at each other, making reassuring eye contact before flipping the papers. He smiled, B+. You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more disappointed. C-? What was the point of putting a minus when anything under a C was failing? You shrank back into your chair, never having got a failing grade before. 

You stuffed the paper in your bag, not caring that it crumpled. Angus reached over and placed his hand on your knee. He didn’t say anything but you appreciated the gesture. He knew how much your grades meant to you. You stuck your tongue out at him and his decent grade but he knew you meant well.

♡

You didn’t usually drink, but tonight was the exception. Was it dramatic to be drinking due to a bad grade? Yes. Did that stop you from taking up Teddy Kountze’s offer to go to an off-campus party? No. Yeah, maybe it was a bad idea to accept the offer of the guy who was a constant ass to you and your best friend, but when he asked you were already in a bad mood. You didn’t even have to interact with him there, just confiscate all the free alcohol and get comfortable on the couch. 

And so you did. When you walked into the house you said ‘hi’ to a couple people you knew and then ran to the kitchen. The smell hit you immediately, there was no second guessing what everyone was drinking. God, people really like this stuff? Whatever, it’s just one night. 

“Angus Tully, call for you.” A teacher Angus didn’t recognize had knocked on his door at nearly five to one in the morning. He groaned, trudging down the hall to the nearest phone. Getting a call was already rare for him but one at one at one a.m. was out of the question. It was even more surprising when he heard the voice of the person on the other end. 

“Tully?”

“Kountze?”

“Thank God, can you get down here?” 

“I already told you, I don’t want to come to your stupid-ass party. Shouldn’t it be ending soon, anyway?”

Teddy groaned. “I don’t want you to come and hang out, I want you to come and pick up (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)? What’re they doing there?”

“I don’t know, man. Just come get them. I don’t know how much he drank but he’s been passed out on the couch for hours. Every time I try to wake him up he just kicks me.” Angus laughed. “Just get him out of here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Give me twenty minutes.”

Angus didn’t have a car but he knew someone who did. He knocked on the door to the teacher’s lounge where he knew Mr. Hunham would probably be watching TV with Mary. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Mary yelled for him to come in. 

Mr. Hunham nodded. “Mr. Tully.”

“Hello, Angus. You didn’t come all the way down here just to watch TV with us, did you? Usually you’re not alone.”

“I didn’t, actually. I was hoping I could get a ride, (Y/n)’s drunk and needs a ride home.”

Mary frowned. “(Y/n)? I didn’t think they were the type.”

Angus just shrugged. “Usually he’s not but he’s been talking to Teddy Kountze more. I think he’s the instigator here.” He stuffed his hands into his front pocket, shrugging. 

Hunham scoffed. “That boy is a devil.” 

“Oh, shush. He’s just a kid.” Mary scolded. “... even if he is a little asshole.” 

They shared a laugh, followed by Mr. Hunham groaning as he stood. “Alright, I’ll drive. But I'm staying in the car. And tell him not to vomit on my seats.” 

Angus nodded, following his teacher out. “Yes, sir!”

When they arrived Mr. Hunham parked on the street, right out front. Angus got out onto the lawn. “I’ll be right back.” Hunham nodded. 

He saw Teddy first. Teddy just scowled and pointed to a room to the right. You were exactly where Kountze said you would be, passed out on the couch. You had a bottle of something in your arms, snugly held tight against your body. Angus pulled that out first and set it on the table across from you. You grumbled softly, missing the feeling of having something in your arms, and shot your leg out to kick who you thought was Kountze. 

Luckily Angus was just out of reach and laughed in response. “(Y/n), time to wake up.” You lifted your hand to shoo him away but he persisted. “Come on,” he shook you softly. “Let’s go. Mr. Hunham’s outside.” That woke you up.

“Mr. Hunham?” Your eyes got wide. “What’s he doing here?” You sat up and Angus sat next to you, keeping you upright after a bit of sudden dizziness.

“He’s our ride.”

“I’m a bit embarrassed.” You put your flushed face in your hands, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“I’m sure he won’t judge you… Maybe just a little disappointed.” He laughed, standing back up and holding his hand out.

“No, I’m embarrassed with myself. I shouldn't have drank.” Your slurring was becoming more apparent now and Angus was sure you’d start crying if you stayed here any longer. 

“How much did you have to drink?”

You knit your eyebrows together and frowned, obviously starting to get a bit grumpy. “I don’t know. Three? Four?” 

“What? Bottles?”

“Cups.” You nodded towards a red solo on the table.

“Cups?” He laughed. “That’s it?”

You sighed, grabbing his hand and standing up. He couldn’t help notice the way you didn’t let go. Chests almost pressed together from the tight space. “Yeah, It’s my first time.” He breathed in sharply, eyes floating down.

“Really? You’ve never drank before? Mary was right about you.” 

You slapped his arm half-heartedly. “Mary knows too? Who else did you tell!?” He broke from the spell and began to lead you towards the door.

He smiled. “Only the whole school.” You groaned in response.

When you got outside, Mr. Hunham rolled down the window to begin his speech before you even had the chance to get to the car. Angus opened the door to the backseat and helped you in but you grabbed his arm when he began to back up. You tugged ever so slightly and he gave in to the weak show of force, climbing into the backseat with you. You didn’t put up a fight but neither did he. 

“... this isn’t the way to go about life. When you get to my age you…” You nodded along to whatever Mr. Hunham was saying, occasionally adding in an ‘I know,’ ‘You’re right,’ or ‘I’m sorry.’ Angus sat a bit stiffly next to you. You still had his arm in yours, hugging it as you had with the bottle. 

♡

He dropped you onto the edge of your bed before falling down beside you with a groan. He needed a moment before he went back to his room. You, slightly more awake now, slung your legs across Angus’s chest in an awkward L-shape. He let you stay like that for a moment, catching his breath and savoring this while he could. 

“Angus?” You asked softly, tilting your head to peer down at him. 

“Yeah?” He pushed your legs back off the side of the bed so he could kneel beside you and help you take your shoes off. 

“You’re so pretty, do you know that?” He paused, staring across at you, obviously shocked. Your face, though, was completely indifferent. “I mean it, you’re so beautiful. You’ve got perfect hair and perfect skin and perfect eyes. I don’t get it. You must know, right? I hope you know.”

“I-” He tried to speak but what would he say? He was still knelt down, desperately watching your face– which was still staring back innocently. Without thinking, he crawled onto the bed next to you, leaning up against the headboard. You adjusted, too, so you could continue staring at him, head on the pillow. He felt a bit hot under your gaze but he basked in the attention, he only wished he knew how to respond to make this last. To get you to look at him like this forever.  

“God! You’re just so perfect! I don’t tell you that enough but I do think it. A lot. You’re just so pretty…” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” 

He could see the fatigue slowly taking over your eyes as you kept going. “You’ve got this dopey smile,” You saw his face turn. “Not a bad dopey! Cute-dopey. It’s the kind of smile that makes me want to smile too.” Absent-mindedly you began to reach up to touch his lips, stopping centimeters from contact.

“Um, thank you.” God, that’s what he came up with? 

You giggled, though.“You’re welcome.” 

“I think you’re pretty too. I’ve been staring at the back of your head since I got to Barton. And then when Christmas break happened I was pissed I didn’t get to go home, sure, but man I was so excited when I found out you were staying too. I’m glad I get to see more of you than your hair now.”

“You’re lying.” You accused him but you were smiling. 

“I’m not, I swear!” He couldn’t help but smile too. 

“You can’t have been looking at me since you moved here because I’ve been looking at you since you moved here. And before Christmas, I don’t think we made eye contact once.” 

“Believe what you want,” He laughed. “I’m telling the truth.”

You sighed, brushed him off wistfully, and went back to longing. You spoke as if you’d forgotten the previous few exchanges. Perhaps you had. “I wish I could look at you all the time. I wish I could touch your face and your hair whenever I wanted. I wish I could–” You abruptly stopped and stared him down. Angus had to remind himself again that you were out of it. You looked as if you were trying to make a decision but the alcohol was making it impossible to choose. Angus leaned forward a bit, almost unwillingly. He hardly even noticed his movements until your fingers finally touched his face.

Your eyes flickered down, his did too. Slowly you brushed against his bottom lip. He parted his mouth slightly, cheeks becoming more red by the second. You moved onto his top lip before brushing his cheek. His eyes hadn’t left your mouth. Pulling your hand back slightly you looked up to his messy curls. Reaching up, you grabbed the hair at the back of his neck, running your hands through it. He had to stop himself from making any noise. 

“And you’ve got these big brown eyes, they’re really pretty, you know. I feel all shy when you look at me… like in the way you are now.” You sighed deeply, as if the weight of the world were on your shoulders. “God, Angus. I think I love you.” 

It took everything in him to not swoop down and kiss you right then. He was glad you were drunk so you wouldn’t remember his bright red face, but he also couldn’t help but wish your confession had been a sober one. His mouth was stuck in a small ‘o’ before he realized you were waiting for an answer. “I don’t think this is the right time.”

You cut him off before he could clarify. “What do you mean? Are you dating someone else…? I’ll wait.” Your words made him sputter out a short laugh but your face was nothing but serious. 

“That’s not what I meant. I–” 

You frowned. “Then, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” He brushed some hair from your eyes. “You’re drunk and probably won't remember any of this in the morning. How about you tell me again when you aren’t inebriated?”  

You grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest. “Why? What if I forget? It hurts too much not to tell you…”

“I won’t forget.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.” 

He kissed you on the forehead, needing something to tide him over until he could act the way he truly wanted to. You curled up on your side before looking at him expectantly. He blushed and compiled, lying down next to you but leaving a couple inches between your two bodies. 

He heard you laugh and move closer. He let out something between a moan and a gasp and you smirked in victory. Still, though, he wasn’t close enough. You reached out and grabbed his hand, setting it on your waist. 

“You never told me,” You leaned into his chest. “Do you like me back?” You sounded like a middle schooler talking to their playground crush. Angus was almost unable to respond from the grin that trapped his face. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Of course I’m in love with you too.”

[kimi240302]

Craving

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,4k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist 

Part 2 of Daylight Masterlist 

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice  

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Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

- David Kushner 

"Y/N?!”

Startled, the young girl flinched. Her gaze, which she had directed outside the entire time, turned to the whiteboard, and therefore to her scowling teacher. When Y/N noticed that the whole classroom was looking at her in a wait-and-see manner, her cheeks turned red as she shrank slightly into herself.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Porter, I wasn't listening." Shaking her head, the teacher sighed. "That's been happening to you quite a bit lately Miss Swan!" Embarrassed, since all the attention was still on her, Y/N just shook her head apologetically. "Just pay attention from now on. The things we discuss today will come up in next week's exam."  Y/N sat up a little straighter, took out her pen from her bag, and pulled her notebook towards her, which made the teacher smile contentedly and continue with the lesson.

For fifteen minutes, Y/N was able to focus on what was going on in front of her, until her gaze turned back outside and her thoughts drifted back to Demetri. As she did so, her hand settled, as if by itself, on the spot where Demetri's lips had touched her skin. Her eyes closed and the memories came back. It almost seemed to her as if Demetri was here in the same room with her, very close again.

Annoyed, Y/N exhaled, opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Three weeks had passed since the meeting with Demetri in the library. Three weeks of pure torture, as Y/N no longer knew exactly where she stood, what she felt, or what exactly she wanted.

Then to top it all off, the young girl felt guilty towards her sister for indirectly breaking her promise. While it had been Demetri who had sought her out, Y/N hadn't really done anything about his closeness either, or really found it disturbing. Y/N therefore kept inventing excuses not to talk to Bella for more than half an hour to an hour, even skipping a phone call here and there. Bella, surprisingly, ignored this. She probably thought Y/N had a lot to do with school, which was true somewhere.

On the other hand, Y/N was overwhelmed with what she was feeling. She missed the feel of Demetri's body against hers. She missed his hands holding her, his lips on her skin, and his presence. Y/N even had to admit that she searched for him whenever she was out.

Yet it was almost as if Demetri Volturi no longer existed. As if he had disappeared from the scene and the only thing he had left behind was desire and words that Y/N did not understand, or rather did not want to understand.

"How long can you hide your sins from the light of day?"

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"You should come out to party with us." Mara, a friend of Y/N, looked at her piercingly. "You've been going out for two weeks only to go to school, and even there you're absent the entire time and hardly talk."

Annoyed, Y/N released air from her lungs as she flopped down on her bed. "I just don't feel like doing anything else. Everyone has that once, it'll pass."

Mara jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour and tried to coax Y/N into doing something other than just lying around in her room. Her fingers encircled Y/N's ankles. With a strong tug, Mara pulled Y/N off her bed.

Startled, she let out a scream as she plopped to the floor. Silence reigned for a moment until the two friends looked at each other and burst out laughing. Mara lay down on the floor next to the laughing Y/N, as she couldn't stop laughing either.

Both friends looked at the ceiling, trying to get their breathing under control as they slowly calmed down.

"What's it like?" Confused, Y/N turned her head in Mara's direction. "What exactly?" Her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I have a big sister Y/N, I know what heartbreak looks like. I'm just wondering what it feels like. I've never been in love, so I can't understand someone wanting to pull away from everything and everyone because of it."  Y/N turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Clearing her throat briefly, she tried to collect herself. "It's more complicated than heartbreak." The young girl took one deep breath. "You have to imagine that I never really knew who I was at home. I felt lost, which I still do from time to time." Y/N fell silent. Saddened and depressed by her own words, even if they spoke the truth.

"Why?" "Bella always cast a shadow over me. She was all my parents saw. I tried to step out of it, but every time I did, I stood in it again. So I gave it up and just lived in it. When I met Demetri, that's his name, I had the feeling of being seen for the first time. Really seen. I wasn't Bella's little sister anymore, I was just Y/N." Smiling, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the day she had first seen the vampire.

A cold hand placed itself under Y/N's chin and lifted it. This forced the young girl to look up. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her bag as she looked into a pair of red eyes. "What's your name Chéri?" At the blond-haired man's voice, a shiver ran down her spine. "Y/N...." Her voice was soft.

With a soft smile, Demetri released her chin and brushed a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"What's it like to be around him?" "It feels like coming home. When he's around me, it's like I can finally take a breath." Y/N gave a soft laugh. Confused, Mara looked at her, "What is it?" "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, when Demetri touches me it's like he reminds me that I'm alive and not just existing. His touches almost burn, and they continue to do so long after he's gone."

Mara was silent again for a moment. "That doesn't sound ridiculous. On the contrary it sounds beautiful, like a connection anyone would want to have. But then why are you sad?" "My family is against it." Mara exhaled in annoyance. "You mean your sister is against it."  "And a few other people I care about, or at least used to." Y/N's expression changed to a sad one. "So what's the plan? To forget him." The young girl just nods.

Mara, sighing, nudged her friend in the ribs with her elbow, making Y/N wince.

"Now let's be honest, let's go to the club today. The others are coming too. The first step towards oblivion." Y/N rubbed the spot where Mara's elbow had hit her.  "If I come with you, will you promise not to be violent towards me anymore?"

Playfully thoughtful, Mara put a hand to her chin and considered for a few seconds.

"If I have to..." Dramatically, the hand moved from her chin to her chest. "I promise to behave towards you!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed the pillow, which had fallen on the floor with her earlier, and threw it in Mara's face.

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"Look who decided to join us for the night!" Mara spread her arms and showed her group of friends Y/N, immediately they all started cheering. "The lost child has returned!" Y/N rolled her eyes and plopped down next to Mick on the bench in the club. "I only skipped one club visit!" She had to raise her voice to fight the music. "One too many!" called Mick back, pressing his fresh beer into her hand. He put his arm on her shoulders and lifted the other beer to toast with the others.

As the evening went on, more and more alcohol flowed. Which helped Y/N lose any thought of Demetri and her confusing feelings for him.

With her eyes closed, Y/N moved to the tune of the music. The darkness that surrounded her, broken only by green and red lights every few seconds, made her feel safe and out of reach. Y/N felt free for the first time. No vampire drama could find her here. It was just her and her friends here.

The bodies around her, the young girl was already not even aware of, as well as the smell of sweat and alcohol. Smiling, she raised her arms in the air. 

Y/N's peace was quickly shattered. Startled, she flinched when two hands came to her hips. Her arms dropped down so she could put her hands over the stranger's and push them away. But as her skin touched the stranger's and she felt the familiar cold, the young girl literally sank into the body behind her. An unfamiliar feeling of relief spread through her.

"Demetri..."

His name was no more than a whisper, but Y/N knew he had heard her. After all, he was a vampire. The grip on her hips strengthened as if to assure her that it was really him, that he was really behind her and was not just an illusion.

"What do you think you're doing here Trésor?" Goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin. Tightening her grip on his hands, she sought the hold to steady herself. "Trying to forget." She murmured, not stopping to move, forcing Demetri to follow her lead.

The vampire snorted in amusement. His left hand settled on Y/N's stomach, where he applied enough pressure to keep Y/N's back against his chest. Demetri also released his right hand from her hip and let his fingertips travel upward just a few millimeters over the filmy fabric of Y/N's black blouse. When his fingers stopped at the exposed cleavage that started just below her breasts, Y/N had to gasp. Demetri's lips hovered just inches from her ear. "What are you trying to forget?"

Carefully almost, as if the vampire was afraid his mate would shatter like glass, he touched the exposed skin, between her breasts. Slowly his fingers slid up. Y/N bit her lip gently. She didn't want Demetri to know how much influence he had on her. However, the young girl quickly lost her focus as Demetri's fingers slid over her collarbone. Out of instinct, she grabbed Demetri's right arm, causing him to pause in his movement.

"I wanted to forget you." Her words sounded breathless and desperate. Demetri laughed, "And you really thought for a second that I would let this happen?" The vampire lowered his head. As he did so, he let his lips run over Y/N's cheek and chin. Arriving at her neck, he lowered his lips to her pulse point without further thought. Without hurting her he sucked his mouth there to make a mark on her. The young girl's eyes widened before she closed them. Her body automatically pressed even closer to his as Y/N's grip tightened on Demetri's arm.

"Good luck forgetting now." Demetri had moved away from her neck and taken his arms from her. Confused and slightly backward staggering, Y/N opened her eyes and at the lack of presence behind her, turned around. Only to find that Demetri had disappeared and left her behind  once again.

"He can't be serious now!"

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The young Swan girl felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her head. Any signs of being drunk had disappeared and been replaced by a feeling of emptiness.

Slamming her apartment door behind her, Y/N shook her shoes off her feet. She had told her friends a half-hearted excuse, gotten out of the club into the next best cab, and headed home.

Tired, Y/N leaned against her front door. Her gaze slid around her dark apartment. Sighing, her head lightly banged on the door behind her. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how lonely she actually felt. Y/N didn't miss Forks, her sister, her father, or her friends, though. She was missing Demetri. Which made no sense from her point of view, since they were both never in the same place for more than half an hour.

Shaking her head, Y/N pushed herself away from her door, banished her way through the still dark apartment to the bathroom, and slowly began to undress in the process. She wanted nothing more than to wash the evening off her skin. The alcohol, her sweat, and the feeling of what Demetri had left on her skin. As she walked past her bedroom window, Y/N opened it to let the evening air in and since she lived on the fifth floor she didn't worry about anyone getting into her apartment.

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With a towel tied around her body, Y/N stood stunned in front of her bathroom mirror.

""This bloody..."" Twisting her neck a bit to the side, she looked at the red mark on her neck. Gasping, she propped her hands on the sink. "A hickey? Seriously!"

Shaking her head in front of her, she tugged on her towel again and left the bathroom to get dressed in her bedroom. Just as she was about to open her closet door to look for her sleeping clothes, a voice familiar to her was heard.

"Mon amour you should not leave your window open like that. Someone might come in here unannounced."

With a cry, the young girl turned to her bed. Stunned, Y/N looked at the vampire. Demetri had made himself comfortable on her bed. His hands were clasped behind the back of his head as he watched her with a satisfied grin.

"I live on the fifth floor! No one can get in there just like that. Except crazy vampires who don't know what privacy is!"

Angrily, she braced her hands on her hips. Demetri raised an eyebrow. "I thought the window was an invitation for me. After all, we both know that the height of your apartment is nothing that can stop me."  Several times Y/N blinked as she processed Demetri's words.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Y/N, enraged, grabbed the nearest object that fell into her fingers and threw it at Demetri. The latter jumped up from the bed to avoid the book Y/N threw at him.

"Mon amour you know that can't hurt me, right?" With an annoyed snort, Y/N grabbed her other textbook and aimed it at Demetri again. "I don't care!" Demetri ducked his head, repositioned himself properly, and looked after the book that had knocked a vase onto the floor.

"Think about your decor Y/N." Demetri's grin seemed to make the young girl even angrier. By the third time she turned to grab something and throw it at the vampire, Demetri had had enough. He closed the distance between them and stood directly in front of her.

Y/N, who was just turning back to face him, startled, dropped the book from her hand, and took an avoiding step backward. The skin on her back touched the cold wood, of her closet. This reminded her that she was still standing in front of Demetri in only a towel. Y/N's hands grasped the top hem of the towel and pulled it closer to her skin.

"Why are you here Demetri?" Y/N uttered her words only softly, with an uncertain tone. Demetri could even hear an anxious undertone. He stepped over the inches of distance that still existed between the two. The vampire raised his hand to Y/N's cheek, which made her close her eyes. The trembling of her body became more obvious and Demetri had to admit to himself that this reaction of his mate hurt him.

"Open your eyes Y/N." Demetri rested his forehead against Y/N's as he whispered his next words. "I beg you, don't be afraid of me." The young girl's eyes flew open. She had to swallow because of the closeness of their faces and the intensity of Demetri's gaze.

"Then give me a reason not to be afraid."

Demetri's free hand rested against Y/N's other cheek as he released his forehead from hers. Without hesitating any further, he lowered his lips to those of his mate. Instantly Y/N tensed and Demetri feared that he had gone too far. But Y/N leaned more toward him. Her chest pressed against his to keep her towel where it was as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as passionately as Demetri had.

The vampire's hands dropped down to Y/N's hips.

When they both broke away from each other, Demetri stopped with his lips just inches from hers. Y/N opened her eyes, letting her right arm slide down Demetri's chest. The vampire inhaled, even though he didn't have to, not breaking eye contact with Y/N for a second. "I would never hurt you Y/N. I'm not the monster the Cullens want me to be."

Y/N placed her right hand on Demetri's cheek. Her fingertips gently ran over his skin. With a smile, Y/N watched as Demetri's eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She realized that he felt the same in her presence as she did in his, comfort.

Y/N leaned closer to Demetri with her face getting closer and closer to him. Just as the young girl was about to close her eyes, a ringing interrupted her. Startled, Y/N flinched and separated herself from Demetri. The latter opened his eyes annoyed when Y/N took her hands from him, put them back to the towel and detached herself from his body. Demetri let go of her, watching as Y/N went to her cell phone, picked it up and read the name. "Bella..."

Shaking his head, he walked back toward her. "Don't answer it." Uncertain, his mate looked at him as her fingers tightened around her phone. Demetri had enough of Bella, enough of the promise of what she had taken from his mate, and enough of waiting. He grabbed Y/N`s face between his hands again, pulling her body towards him and letting his lips meet hers. Startled by her mate's rudeness, she dropped the phone on the floor between them. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick material of Demetri's top, at his waist.

"Tonight you're all mine, tonight it's just the two of us!"

Demetri bent Y/N's head slightly to the side with his right hand. Immediately he lowered his lips to the skin on her neck, causing his mate to groan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her shoulders to the top saun of the towel, where he untied the knot Y/N had made in it to make sure the fabric stayed where it was.

Y/N shuddered as she felt the fabric of the towel loosen around her body. With trembling fingers she pushed herself away from Demetri. Confused, he looked at her and wanted to protest, but fell silent when Y/N's fingers went to the first button of his shirt and opened it. They both looked into each other's eyes while she repeated this with the other buttons. Carefully, Y/N ran the exposed skin back up as she undid the last button. As she did so, she could swear Demetri gasped several times. Arriving at his shoulders, she slipped the shirt off his body. She let her fingers wander further up his neck and pulled him down to her. This time it was Y/N who deepened the kiss directly as Demetri's hands worked their way down to her thighs. He lifted her up without breaking the kiss and placed her on the bed behind them.

The vampire and his mate created their own little world that night under the protection of her darkness. A world where Bella and the Cullens were forgotten. Where Y/N's fears for the future had no place. Where the ringing of Y/N's cell phone was ignored and where she belonged completely to Demetri.

A world that shattered with the first rays of daylight. When Y/N opened her eyes, she was aware not only of the burning sensation left by Demetri's touch, but also of the tightness in her lungs. She had betrayed her sister.

Y/N turned in bed to face her window. The side of the bed on which Demetri had been lying was cold, but not empty. A note lay on the pillow. Confused, the young girl straightened up, grabbed it and read it.

"Daylight exposes your sins more and more, so why still try to hide them in the darkness?"

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I will write a Part 3

@twilightlover2007​ @ssnapsaurus @svtbpbts

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx  @ms-sasa​

[jeonqkooks]

yoongi + 40 (fluff) + 49 (smut) (ONCE AGAIN CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE AND HAPPY ALMOST BLOGIVERSARY LOVE 🫶)

personal space | myg (m.)

pairing: yoongi x f!reader prompts: "are you blushing?" + "shut up and pin me down." rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre/warnings: fwb au, brother’s best friend au - jimin's the bro, a lil fluff, a lil angst, definitely smut; the only warning i could think of for the smut is fingering lol it's pretty mild, unedited bc that's how we do <3, smut right under the cut word count: 1.2k note: hi nary !! thank yuuuuuuu for the request heheheh i know i'm SO SO LATE to this one but better late than never right :D this yoongi has been on my mind since last august but i'm so glad to release him into the world. hope you like this lil piece <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"Did you miss me?" Yoongi pushes your panties aside, his slender fingers stroking your bare core as a cocky grin graces his face. Your arousal practically drips down his fingers. "Oh, you did miss me."

When you decided to come to his welcome home party tonight, you hadn't counted on this happening, though part of you was secretly hoping for it. It’s not necessarily a bad idea to be in such close proximity with Min Yoongi again, just a dangerous one.

Old habits die hard, you suppose.

"Shut up," you groan when the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, dipping into your heat but only allowing the digit to sink up to the first knuckle before he pulls out. The fucker, always such a tease. "Shut up and pin me down."

"When did you get so bossy?" he tuts, but he complies anyway. Yoongi carries you to the bed with your legs around his waist while his palms busy themselves with your ass, kneading your skin like it's the first time he's touching you. He doesn't throw you on the mattress roughly like you expect, but instead, he lays you down gently, like you're porcelain and he's got slippery hands. When he hovers above you, the guitar pick of his necklace dangles to rest on your bra-clad chest, and the coolness of the metal makes you shiver. It stings a bit, you have to admit.

"Since you left," you say, like it's all so casual. In a way, it is. That's how it used to be between the two of you - hiding another layer of honesty in the truths you exchange and knowing full well that the other person understands it. A secret language that only you and Yoongi speak, like hiding in plain sight. Although, that was the one part you were never particularly fond of - the hiding - but you knew it had to be this way. Jimin would've killed you both if he ever found out one of his best friends was railing his sister on the DL. "You subjected me to a lifetime of mediocre sex with mediocre men."

"It wasn't a lifetime," Yoongi disagrees, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's pleased with what you're insinuating. That he was the best. He was the only one who knew how to make you feel good. The man nudges his nose against yours, prying your thighs open as his hand settles on the warmth between your legs again. "It was three years."

"Which was a long time."

He kisses you then, and it makes your head spin from how soft it all feels. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like Jimin isn’t completely shit-faced in the next room, like kissing you is everything that he’s been thinking about for the past years, and now he finally has the chance to do it again.

After a moment, he breaks away to drag his mouth along your jawline to your ear, whispering things that the old Yoongi never would.

He plunges two digits inside you without any warning, but it doesn't take your breath away nearly as much as his words do. "I missed you," he says. "Missed you a lot. There were days, maybe even weeks, where I think I did nothing but miss you."

Your cheeks burn easily until they turn a shade that could compete with the rose bushes in your back garden. You grab fistfuls of Yoongi's t-shirt as his fingers fuck you slowly.

"Are you blushing?" he chuckles. "I'm knuckles deep inside of you and you're blushing?"

"Shut up," you repeat, because he didn't seem to listen the first time. "Don't say shit like that if you can't see it through."

"Who says I won't see it through?" he asks. His beautiful fingers that you've missed don't ease up for even a second, scissoring you open and forcing a whiny moan out of you, despite the sudden somberness of the moment. You clench around him when his thumb meets your clit, making you impossibly wetter.

"You never did."

"Neither did you, sweetheart."

"Because I'm a coward." You buck your hips to meet his hand as it thrusts into you, delicate fingertips brushing your g-spot on every stroke. "But you're not a coward, are you, Yoongi?"

It's strange how you're close to coming even though the conversation is making you sad, but that's Min Yoongi for you. He's got you wrapped around his finger - figuratively speaking, but of course, you suppose it takes on a literal meaning this very second - ever since day one.

It started out as just sex. It was supposed to be just sex.

He was supposed to just be one of Park Jimin's goofy friends.

You were supposed to just be Park Jimin's sister.

You were, until you became someone that Yoongi could love. Someone he did love.

And he still does, there's no doubt about that.

He stays quiet just long enough to make you come undone. His thumb rubs your clit expertly, just the way you like, as if you two never spent any time apart. You give him a broken moan, and he gives you a wave of bliss that washes over your body and swallows you entirely when he curls his fingers, fucking you with determination as you gush into his hand. Your legs start to close but Yoongi props them open, prolonging your high until you're shaking from the sensitivity.

"Yoongi..." you whimper, and only then does he pull his fingers out, soaked in your essence, only to shove them into his mouth. You watch as he hums in delight, eyes falling shut like he's trying to savor the taste. You say his name again, softer this time.

Yoongi looks at you then, propping his forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. He rests his hips on yours, and you feel him even through his jeans, hard and pressed against your bare thigh.

"I was a coward," he admits. "But I'd like to think I'm not one anymore."

Then you both just stare at each other for what feels like hours but in reality, it's probably mere minutes. You want to believe him, you really do, but there are too many things that you don't know if you should risk. It takes a leap, but unfortunately, you're scared of heights.

You pull on his shirt, silently telling him you want it off. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I'm finally talking about it and you don't want to listen?" he chuckles but takes off the tee anyway, tugging it over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room.

"I do, just not right now. Now I only want you."

"You've got me."

"Not like that."

"Yes," he says. "Yes, like that."

You give Yoongi a look that makes him sigh. You just want to have him, without thinking of any of the things that make you feel like it's impossible to truly have him. Just one night, that's all you're asking for.

He touches your face, tracing your cheekbone, trailing down to caress your jawline. "I'll see it through," he tells you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer until your lips brush. You give him a chaste kiss, letting your eyes flutter closed momentarily before you whisper, "Tomorrow."

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.06.23]