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toomanystoriessolittletime · 7 months

Text

Mistakes

Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)

Wordcount: 6.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood

A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao

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It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.

People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on.

Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely.

The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy.

But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name.

If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy.

It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life.

Tommy, Joel and you grew up together.

When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water.

The little shit.

Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief.

And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you.

It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point.

You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl.

God, you had been so heartbroken back then.

He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot.

It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again.

Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend.

You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father.

He had been scared but so happy.

And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own.

Sarah was his whole world.

Until the world ended.

The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again.

Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.

Until he left without a word.

Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces.

“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off.

He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller.

Joel had found him.

His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief.

For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?

You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving.

You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again.

“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind.

You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry.

Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously.

The nerve he had.

Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father.

You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it.

You could only imagine what he had told her.

He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make.

You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode.

Of course life had other plans.

You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel.

“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.

“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.

“So then you understand my concern.”

“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him.

“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?”

You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair.

“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you.

“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow.

“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down.

“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath.

“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said.

You scoffed.

“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”

“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.

“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you.

“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed.

“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”

“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots.

“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled.

“I know the feelin’,” he sighed.

You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

You felt his lips on your temple.

„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head.

„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled.

„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.

You both sat there in silence for a moment.

„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him.

„What do you mean?“

He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes.

„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly.

You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.

„What kinda dreams?“

„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking.

„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks.

„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.

„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position.

„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder.

„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head.

„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled.

He said your name, pleading but you shook your head.

„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away.

You took a deep breath.

„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him.

„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down.

You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you.

You just walked faster, not bothering to stop.

„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much.

„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him.

„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house.

You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open.

You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road.

She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by.

You were broken, you had been for a long time.

The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel.

He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you.

He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left.

He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.

He was always there.

And along the way you fell in love with him.

You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you.

It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips.

„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you.

When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.

„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down.

„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head.

„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“

„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath.

Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours.

„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded.

„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.

He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you.

Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants.

He stopped you before you could get any further.

„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead.

„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours.

Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs.

His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching.

„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.

He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.

„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you.

No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply.

He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him.

He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach.

He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep.

While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him.

You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise.

You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag.

You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.

You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.

Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in.

The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside.

Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon.

„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty.

A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel.

Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in.

Empty.

Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake.

Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you.

Tears were springing into your eyes.

He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?

Not after he….

A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words.

„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered.

Tommy only nodded.

Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly.

„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“

You scoffed.

„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.

He said your name, almost pleading.

„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“

You wanted to tell him then.

To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were.

Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you.

And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet.

It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him.

„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said.

„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him.

„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff.

An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened.

„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked.

„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you.

As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.

„I know you love him,“ he startled you.

„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you.

„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson.

The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it.

You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them.

It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.

You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse.

You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you.

You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob.

It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.

And he was not awake.

„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit.

Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you.

„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“

You were closer to the university than you thought then.

You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.

Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound.

He didn’t even stir.

„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“

„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes.

„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could.

She mirrored you.

„Can I help?“ Ellie asked.

„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.

„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs.

You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in.

„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open.

It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.

But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here.

You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it.

It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips.

You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up.

It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop.

Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them.

A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.

„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek.

„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly.

„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.

„Ellie?“ He asked.

„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly.

„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head.

„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head.

„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted.

„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin.

The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes.

„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.

„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage.

The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door.

You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house.

You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body.

„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping.

They were looking for Joel.

For Joel and Ellie.

You had to get out of here.

You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.

Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.

The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived.

Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room.

„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“

„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded.

„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot.

You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected.

„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.

It was a four day ride back to Jackson.

Four days that felt like four weeks.

Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.

You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse.

On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder.

It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel.

More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it.

When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight.

But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out.

The next hours were a blur.

You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in, your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room.

Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating.

You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes.

Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you.

„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer.

„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you.

„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man.

„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin.

„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.

„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.

„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.

„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh.

„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room.

It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy.

Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.

„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers.

For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.

„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in.

„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded.

„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed.

„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered.

„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded.

„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again.

„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left.

„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you.

„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath.

„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained.

„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered.

„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked.

„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek.

He looked wrecked.

„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair.

You shrugged.

„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow.

„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again.

„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile.

„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you.

You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent.

„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep.

„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead.

Six weeks later

„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.

„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle.

„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder.

„Why do I have to learn it then?“

„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing.

„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake.

„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat.

„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her.

„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck.

„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck.

One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast.

„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck.

„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter.

„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass.

„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled.

„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Tommy Miller x fem. reader #Tommy Miller #Pedro Pascal #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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r4ikkonen · 1 year

Note

Hi, could you write a Fernando one where he's starting dating Carlos little sister?

secret lover | Fernando Alonso x reader

a/n ty so much for requesting i loved this idea❣️(I hate this thing That i’ve just wrote))

tw: age gap,swearing

It was very common that you would travel with Carlos.You would be his number one supporter.This week you were in Monza.Big race for Ferrari and Carlos wanted his little sister to be there with him.You agreed of course.However he wasn’t the only reason why you were here..

y/n’s POV

I have just arrived to the paddock.Making sure that I have my pass with me and that I’m bringing coffee to my brother.It was difficult having a secret relationship with Fernando.I didn’t know if that would trigger Carlos.I was walking fast hopping to God that noone from the Aston Martin garage would notice me.I held the coffee cup so tight in my hand that It almost slipped.And finally I’m in the twilight zone aka Aston Martin garage.I looked quickly to see if Nando was there and to my surprise everyone was staring.Nando ran up to me.

“Hey, Cariño wait!” He shouted running up to me and looking at me with his gorgeous brown eyes. “Hey.. Um Nando” I said feeling embarrassed, all eyes were on us and it was clear that we are dating.It’s just that we haven’t announced it yet and Carlos would freak out. “Are you hiding from me?” He asked lifting an eyebrow.I knew how much he wanted to kiss me and I did so too. “Nando we can’t now..” I stood there bitting my lip.He was very comitted to our relationship and he really wanted to make it official but I kept thinking about Carlos. “Y/N!” My brother shouted gesturing with his hand that I follow him.I quickly said goodbye to Nando and I went to the Ferrari garage.My heart was still racing.”For the minute I thought you were lost somewhere.” Carlos siad untangling his headphones.His accent was so thick.”Yea Um I was just talking.. to a friend” I added awkwardly. “Y/N I don’t know if the rumours are true but stay away from Alonso, he’s a bit old and he’s not good for you.” My brother said gripping my shoulder making me look at him straight in the eyes.At that mlment I knew I was fucked.A thousand thoughts were coming true my head and honestly I didn’t know what to do.I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket so I quickly grabbed it to check the notifications.

El Plan 🩷

Let’s meet behind the motorhouse

Nando they’ll see us

Cariño just come

———————————————————————

I rolled my eyes and put the phone back into my pocket.I went down behind the motorhouse when I saw him standing there with his arms crossed.He was leaning against the wall and his hair was messy from the helmet.I came up to him giving him a hug.I wrapped my hands around his neck and god He was so warm.”Y/N I love you but you need to make yourself clear” He gave me a sad look, Still holding me close to him “Nando just give me more time I promise i’ll tell him” I reassured him knowing that my words didn’t help one bit.I leaned in to kiss him.He pulled my leg by the back of my knee, Nando pressed my leg to his hip.He started rubbing his hand on my leg while giving me lot’s of pasionate kisses.We were sp desperate for each other.Every kiss was wetter and wetter.Fernando lifted me up in the air and I just wrapled my arms around him.I cupped his cheek with one hand.I loved the touch of his beard against my palm.”Mm Cariño..” He pulled out of the kiss.taking his time to breathe normaly.I looked at my watch and saw that it’s time to get back.I gave Nando a quick kiss and jogged of to the garage.

I just sat in the garage scrolling instagram when Carlos approached to me.He pulled me by my wrist to the driver’s room and everyone turned around to see what was going on.He closed the door and looked at me.

“So when where you thinking about telling me about your little boyfriend?” Carlos asked sarcastically.His eyes were full with anger.

“Carlos.. listen” He cut me off , I felt so ashamed, seriously what was I thinking dating a driver that’s ten years older than me.

“Y/N I warned you about him, you always do this on purpose.” He kept walking around the room trying to control his anger.

“Carlos I love him.” I said pleading and holding back the urge to cry.He gave me a big hug and reassured me that it’s okay.He couldn’t resist me.”Sorry” I mumbled with my head burried in his chest.Carlos was always overprotective of me and it’s not a shame that he reacted that way.

It was starting to get dark and everyone was preparing to go home.Nando waited for me and I still felt embarassed.Carlos got out of the garage and joined Nando and me in the conversation. “Hmm so you guys are together?” He tapped him by the back. “Yes..” Nando said blushing, giving me a big smile.”C’mon we should celebrate” Carlos said locking arms with both of us.”Carlos.” I asked still confused by the whole thing today.”mhmv?” Carlos asked tilting his head. “How did you even find out that we are together?” Fernando gave me a concerning look. “Well.. Charles…” Carlos barely said out loud his name.He promised not to tell us. “Hm knew it..” Fernando said to himself with a serious look knowing what it would wait for him tomorrow.

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one #carlos sainz #f1 #ferrari #formel 1 #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #aston martin #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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weird-an · 2 years

Text

Hopper is actually scared to pick up the phone. In the few months Billy has stayed with him, he has never called him at work. Hopper had the number pinned to the fridge, but Billy just shrugged.

"Billy?“

"Hopper, I…" Billy sighs. "My car has a flat tire."

Jim waits for him to continue, but the end of the line is silent.

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Maybe after work?" Jim has to work for another three hours. Billy knows that.

There is some rustling on the other side.

"Jesus, Billy."

Hopper needs a moment to recognise the voice.

"It's fucking freezing. Can you come pick us up? Like now?" Steve says. He hears Billy muttering something.

"Since when are you guys hanging out?" Jim asks, completely baffled. Billy has never mentioned it.

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. "What? Billy, you said you were gonna tell him!"

"Tell me what?" What the fuck is going on?

It seems like Billy has grabbed the phone now. "You don't need to come."

"We're near the old gas station a few miles out of town," Steve shouts. "Come pick us up, please."

"We'll figure it out," Billy disagrees. "Sorry for both-"

"My boyfriend is an idiot and I'm freezing my ass off here!" Steve yells.

Hopper stares at the phone in disbelief. It's like a weird episode of Twilight Zone.

"I‘m coming," Hopper says and hangs up the phone before Billy can disagree. He grabs his jacket.

"Where you going, Chief?" Flo asks.

"Picking up two idiots," Hopper sighs.

At least being Sheriff has the advantage that no one dares to speak up when he leaves work three hours early to pick up his foster son and his boyfriend he didn't even know about.

The joys of unexpected parenthood.

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #billy hargrove & jim hopper #poor hopper i always make him suffer a little

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hendersister · 1 year

Text

twilight zone (3/3)

summary: when you and steve get trapped in the upside down, you work together to survive.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: twilight zone by golden earring

word count: ~1.8k

<- part 2

You lost track of how much time you and Steve have spent walking through the woods in the Upside Down. You’ve been stuck here since entering through a gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake and you’re both desperate to get back home to the real Hawkins.

You believe that there might be a gate in Eddie’s trailer because that’s where Chrissy died. But Eddie’s trailer is several miles away. So you and Steve decided to make a quick pit stop at your house to gather supplies for your journey to the trailer park. You walked through the woods to get to your place because you and Steve were trying your best to lay low.

After spending an unknown amount of time in the woods, you and Steve arrive at your house. As soon as you get inside, you go around looking for supplies. You’re so focused and in the zone, you’re not paying too much attention to the sights or sounds around you.

While you’re gathering supplies, Steve walks around your house. Just as he passes by Dustin’s bedroom, he suddenly hears Dustin speaking indistinctly and faintly.

“Dustin!”

Steve goes inside Dustin’s room.

“Dustin! Dustin! Can you hear me?” Steve yells.

You’re down the hall in your own bedroom when you hear Steve calling out Dustin’s name. He’s yelling loud enough to snap you out of your thoughts. You run out of your room and follow your boyfriend’s voice.

“Dustin! Hello? Hello!!”

You rush into Dustin’s room and find Steve shouting.

“Steve! What’s going on?”

“Your brother’s here. He’s like… He’s in the walls or something,” Steve tells you.

You raise your eyebrows.

“What? What do you mean he’s in the walls?” you ask, confused.

“Just listen. It’s Dustin!” he tries.

You’re quiet for a moment. And then you can hear faintly-

“Y/N, do you copy? Steve? This is Dustin. Where are you? Do you copy?”

You gasp. You can recognize that voice and tone anywhere. It’s your little brother. You were so focused on gathering supplies that you weren’t even listening before. But now you can definitely hear Dustin.

“Dustin! Dustin!” you start shouting your brother’s name along with Steve.

“I repeat! This is Dustin. Do you copy?”

You and Steve take a breather.

“All right, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag,” Steve shrugs.

“I don’t think he can hear us,” you sigh, “I think the only way he would be able to hear us was if Eleven was with him….”

Steve shakes his head.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, and then, “Do you think there’s anything we can do to get his attention?”

You take a deep breath and give yourself a moment to think. And then a lightbulb turns on, both figuratively in your head and literally in the room. From the corner of the eye, you notice one of your light fixtures is glowing.

“Joyce said that Will spoke to her through the lights, right?” you say as you approach the glowing light fixture.

Steve sees the glow and follows you towards the light. You both cautiously reach your hands in. It feels kind of good. You and Steve both look at each other and smile. You don’t say anything because you don’t have to. You’ve just found a way to communicate with Dustin!

“So should we wave our hands until Dustin notices us?” Steve asks.

You shake your head.

“No need. I know Morse Code,” you tell him.

You and Dustin both learned Morse Code together a few years ago. It was just for fun. Back then, you never imagined you’d ever need to use it or be in this type of situation.

Steve puts his hand down and you write out S.O.S in Morse Code. It takes a few times of repeating the message until-

“Wait…is that Morse Code?” you hear Dustin faintly ask.

You write out a response in Morse Code:

YES DORK

You and Steve can hear Dustin’s laughter echoing. The message called him a dork. He knows it has to be you.

“Y/N! Is that you?” Dustin asks you excitedly, “To make things easier, do one light flicker for yes and two for no.”

You flick the light once. Dustin cheers.

“Are you alone?”

You flick the light twice and write out in Morse Code:

STEVE

“Steve!? How the hell did you guys get to the Upside Down?” Dustin questions you.

You and Steve went out to the middle of Lover’s Lake because you had a hypothesis that gates were forming at Vecna murder sites. You didn’t tell Dustin or anyone else in the party that you were going because you thought it was a shot in the dark. You and Steve both regret that now.

Dustin did not ask a yes or no question so you write out a message in response:

GATE IN LAKE

“Why would there be a gate in the lake?!” Dustin wonders aloud, and then, “Wait, the lake is where Patrick died. Does that mean there’s a gate at all the Vecna murder sites?”

You flick the light once for yes. You’re so happy and proud of your little brother for coming to the same conclusion as you. You hear Dustin laugh and cheer too.

“Can you go through the gate at Lover’s Lake to get home?”

You flick the light twice for no and send another message in Morse Code:

MEET AT EDDIE TRAILER

“OK! I’ll get Lucas and Max and we’ll meet you there!” Dustin exclaims.

You and Steve let out a sigh of relief. You’re getting some much needed help. Now all you have to do is get to the trailer park.

After you finish gathering supplies, you and Steve leave your house. Steve eyes the bikes on the ground near the garage.

“We can take those bikes to Eddie’s,” Steve suggests.

“I think I have a better idea,” you tell Steve as you nod towards your mom’s car.

Steve raises his eyebrows. You both approach the car.

“Do you think the car would work?” you ask your boyfriend.

“Y/N, we’re in an alternate dimension. Anything is possible at this point,” he answers casually.

You let out a little chuckle before opening the car door. You check under the sun visor, where your mom usually hides her extra pair of keys. The upside down version of the car keys falls onto your lap. You hold your breath as you put the keys in the ignition. You turn the key and the car turns on. It miraculously works!

“Yes!!” you clap your hands excitedly.

Steve’s face perks up.

“That was actually kinda hot. Is it weird that I’m kinda turned on right now?” he jokes.

“Save that energy for when we get out of here,” you coyly reply.

Steve goes around the car and gets into the passenger’s seat. You pull the car out of the driveway and start your drive towards Eddie’s trailer.

Taking the car saved a significant amount of time. What could’ve been a few hours on foot, only took about 20 minutes to drive.

When you arrive at Eddie’s trailer, the first thing you and Steve see is the sealed gate on the ceiling.

“Goddamn,” Steve mutters to himself.

You’re getting closer to the gate when it suddenly starts to open. Steve impulsively grabs your hand and pulls you back behind him. He puts a protective arm out in front of you.

Once the gate’s seal is completely gone, you and Steve slowly approach the gate. You look up to see Dustin, Lucas and Max standing in Eddie’s trailer.

“No way,” Steve mutters.

Dustin laughs.

“Hi there” your little brother waves.

You and Steve wave back. You and your smile at each other. You’re both so happy and relieved. You can finally get out of the Upside Down!

“Bada-bada-boom!” Dustin cheers.

Max and Lucas move Eddie’s mattress directly under the gate, giving you and Steve a landing pad. Dustin ties together a few bed sheets as a makeshift rope.

“Not quite sure how these physics are gonna work. But, uh…. here goes nothing.”

Dustin tosses up one end of the rope and it reaches the Upside Down. He keeps hold of the rope’s other end.

“And if my theory is correct...”

Dustin lets go of the rope and it holds. Everyone is shocked and in awe.

Steve looks at you. He’d prefer to be the last one out of the Upside Down because he wants to make sure that you get through the gate safely.

“You go first,” your boyfriend tells you.

“Ok,” you nod.

You take hold of the rope. Steve puts his hands on your waist so he can help lift you up. Before you go, you lean in and give him a kiss.

“We did it! We made it out of here,” you whisper.

“We survived together,” Steve softly replies.

After a moment, you pull away from Steve.

“See you on the other side,” he tells you as he lifts you up.

You climb the rope through the gate and land on the mattress.

“Woah,” you chuckle, “That was weird!”

Dustin puts his hand out to help you stand up.

“There’s no place like home,” you smile as you rise to your feet.

“Huh?” Dustin gives you a confused look.

Steve climbs up the rope right after you. He lands on the mattress and you give him a helping hand. He stands up.

“Are you guys okay!?” Max asks.

“What happened?!” Lucas questions you.

You explain everything that happened from you and Steve going out to investigate at Lover’s Lake through driving your mom’s car to Eddie’s trailer in the Upside Down. The kids listen intently. After you finish your story, Steve looks at the kids suspiciously.

“How’d you guys get here so fast?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” Dustin counters.

“Y/N and I saved a lot of time because we took your mom’s car. How did you guys get here so fast on bikes?” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, uh, Max and I were at Lover’s Lake and…” Lucas begins before Max interrupts.

“We found your car and took it. I drove us all here,” she says bluntly.

Steve puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Oh no, not again!” Steve shrugs.

“Steve, relax! Just think about it this way, using your car helped us save your lives faster,” Dustin tries.

“Yeah, you’re welcome!” Max rolls her eyes.

“Give me the keys,” Steve tells Max.

You look away to try to stop yourself from laughing. You love it when Steve gets into Dad mode like this. You think it's cute.

Max shrugs and hands Steve his car keys.

“All right. Let’s get out of here. We’re going home,” Steve announces.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

Stop the World and Melt with You//Part 3

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

In this part, reader meets the Nancy Wheeler and Joyce Byers of this au, and starts to feel a bond with Eddie as you navigate the Twilight Zone episode you are in. You also find out what happens when you try to leave this place called Hawkinsgate.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: reader feels lost and confused in general, talk of being an outcast, feeling misunderstood, mention of having a period, lots of 80's nostalgia, eventual smut (I think) but not for a while. Word count: 4.3k

🔸currently posting with my clown shoes on because this is the second Eddie series I have going 🤡 I really adore and appreciate the three of you who have been reading this, I know it is a little "out there".

-------

When you came out to lock the door of your motel room, you looked up at the ornate, brass, number ‘8’ and noticed that, at one point, someone wrote a ‘6’ right after it in permanent black marker. Another someone clearly tried to clean it off as best they could, but only succeed in fading the dark green paint down to a grass green. Claudia was locking up the lobby and putting a sign in the window that gave a number to call if you needed any assistance, and she waved at you, but then she looked you up and down, and her face pinched.

“You’re not going somewhere tonight, are you?” She shouted to you from halfway across the parking lot.

“Um, I’m meeting someone?” You posed it in the form of a question as if to see how she felt about it before you decided to get in your truck and drive the short distance instead of walking and having to answering more questions.

“Well, be safe. There’s a strict no noise policy after 9pm here, so no parties in your room.” She had a ring of keys on her wrist and her hands on her hips.

“I won’t. I mean, there won’t be. We’re just—”

But Claudia was already on the other side of the door, locking it, and waving goodbye to you.

Again, your eyes did a sweep of the empty motel parking lot; even the Police Blazer was gone now.

There were shallow puddles of water in the pavement from the rain earlier and you watched the reflection of the red MOTEL sign on the roof disappear into ripples as you stepped in it with your boot.

Eddie was already sitting at a booth in the diner when you walked in---in fact, you’re pretty sure he saw you from his window seat as you approached, because he was already standing up to greet you when you came in the door.

“Welcome to Newby’s,” a small, brunette waitress greeted you immediately, bending down to grab a laminate menu from the side of the wall. “Just one for this evening?”

You looked over and Eddie had his arm up, motioning you over. “She’s with me, Nance,” he called to the waitress.

The long diner had booths to the left and right, with a row of bar stools at a counter ahead of you and a kitchen beyond with what looked like a mom and a pop back there making the food. The place was getting busy, with only a few open booths available. The waitress looked you up and down, smiled uneasily, and then motioned for you to go ahead and continue down the linoleum aisle.

You scoot in across from Eddie, the vinyl seat squeaking as you go. Eddie had his hair down, and it was still damp from his shower; he wore a tattered denim vest and leather jacket on top of a clean, white t-shirt, and your eyes went right to the jewelry on his hands that you hadn’t noticed before—there were chunky, metal rings on his fingers.

He points to an item on the menu in front of you, and his face is serious. “They make the best homemade mac n’ cheese I’ve ever had in my life here.” He pauses and then, your gaze follows his finger up the length of his arm to meet his warm, hazelnut stare. Something about the eye contact flusters him and he loses his train of thought, but then he squints at you. “But why do I take you for more of a liver and onions kind of girl?”

You make a yuck face and wrinkle your nose, and he snorts a little laugh.

Running your finger down the menu, realizing you might need glasses soon, something odd catches your eye. “What do these letters next to the dollar amount mean?”

He lifts up out of his seat a hair to see what you are pointing at. “Oh, that means four dollars or ‘T’ for trade,” he points to another part of the menu. “And the ‘OT’ means trade only.”

“Well, I checked my wallet again just before I came here,” you gave a nervous chuckle. “And there are no more mysterious daffodils in there.” You scratched your head, listening to the preposterous things that were coming out of your own mouth.

Eddie sat back and winked at you as he reached into the front pocket of his denim vest. “Don’t worry, I got you. Dinner is on me tonight.”

With that, he procured a stack of ten or twelve Garbage Pail Kid cards and fanned them out, showing them to you covertly, as if they were hundred dollar bills. He raised both of his eyebrows several times to accentuate that the two of you would be living high on the hog for the evening, before tucking them back into his pocket and snapping the button closed.

A different waitress came by and you ordered the Mac n’ cheese Eddie had suggested; you could tell he was pleased that you went with his suggestion. He ordered a burger with waffle fries and a chocolate milkshake, and you weren’t sure why—but you hadn’t expected that. A soda maybe or a beer, but a milkshake? It was so wholesome in contrast with his persona.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes, each of you ravenous. Once your stomachs started to fill up, you whispered across the table at him: “Why do I feel like everyone in here is staring at us?”

He pushed some of his burger into the side of his cheek with is tongue like a chipmunk and leaned forward to whisper back at you. “Because they are.”

You turned your head to find the girl he called ‘Nance’ and one of the customers at the counter both looking at you as they talked. Their eyes shifted away immediately once you caught them.

Eddie swallowed his bite. “They’re staring at you because you’re here with me, and they’re staring at me because I’m here with you. Get used to it if you ever want to hang out again, sweetheart.”

Now, none of that made sense to you, and the confusion must’ve registered on your face, but the idea of seeing Eddie again made your heart flutter in its cage.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “It’s a stupid thing, I know, but we’re not supposed to...fraternize much with Visitors.”

You had a lot of questions, but you asked the obvious one first. “How do they know I’m a...that I’m not from here?”

Eddie gave you a patient look, as if the reason should be obvious. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you, okay?” He assured. “It’s just...your hair, the way you dress, the fact that you’re staying at the motel. Most of these people have been here for so long, they can sniff out a new person right away.”

For a second, you felt like the proverbial sore thumb, like you had this throbbing, red bubble around you to let everyone know that you didn’t belong. You were a foreigner as Eddie had put it earlier. But, what you didn’t realize at the time is that—you were used to feeling that way.

“So,” you took in that information and pushed your shoulders back, trying not to appear like you cared about any of the spying eyes. “What about me with you? Why would it be a weird thing for me to agree to have dinner with you?”

Eddie picked up the last piece of his food and looked at it pensively, and then realized he was too full and put it back down. He scooted his plate to the side and put his arms on the table, interlacing his fingers. “The thing is, I’ve never fit in here either,” he opened his hands and looked at his palms. There was a lot more to the story, but he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it right there in the middle of the diner, maybe another day, if he ever saw you again.

You pushed your plate to the side as well and Nance (her name tag officially said Nancy) came by to collect them, and asked if you needed any refills. You both declined and Eddie asked for the check.

“I’m really grateful to you, for this, for...dinner and everything,” you stammered. You felt like it was time for you to both go your separate ways, and you weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to stop asking questions, and you weren’t ready to...say goodbye to Eddie. You felt your mouth drying up with anxiety, and you took the last sip of your tea through the straw; it made an audible sucking sound.

Eddie didn’t want the night to end, either. In his mind, he was panicking: should he ask for a dessert menu? He was full, but he’d have something with you if it meant you would stay. Should he walk you back to your motel? No, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable—he was a stranger to you, after all. What about bowling? He could ask if you wanted to try the bowling alley next door or…? Nancy put the check down by Eddie’s arm and it forced him out of the trance he was in.

“You know what’s weird?” You asked, pulling your sweatshirt sleeves over your hands so that only the tips of your fingers were visible.

“You mean, besides everything?” Eddie gave you a wide-eyed, crazy look, and it made you giggle; forgetting, if only for a second, that you were stuck in some episode of The Twilight Zone. He looked down at the check and started sifting through his Garbage Pail Kid cards. He pulled out a ‘Duncan Pumpkin’, a ‘Manny Eater’, an ‘Undead Ed’, and a ‘Jay Decay’. He also pulled out some coins that looked like they were from the early 1900’s. You gasped and picked one up to see it closer.

“Where did you find these?” One was dated 1927.

Eddie shrugged, as if they were as common as mosquitoes. “You’d be surprised at the stuff that shows up here. Someone’s trash ends up being our treasure, I suppose. I’m still not entirely sure how it works.”

He noticed how you were looking at one of the coins. “You can keep that one if you want, I have a ton of them back at my place.”

You thought about it, only because, it was a rare coin worth a lot where you were from, but here, in Hawkinsgate---it didn’t seem to have much perceived value.

“Thank you, that’s okay,” you set it back down in the pile.

“What was it you were going to say?” Eddie interlocked his fingers again on the table.

For a second, you feared that perhaps you were losing your short term memory as well, but then he prompted you.

“You were about to tell me what you thought was weird, and I interrupted.”

“Oh,” you remembered. But for some reason, now you felt shy about saying it out loud. “I was just thinking that you feel really familiar to me. Have we met before? I mean, before today?”

Eddie unlaced his fingers and drummed them on the table softly, nodding, biting his lip. He had been thinking the same thing. Certain things you said, and the way you looked when you said them, were plaguing him with multiple instances of de ja vu.

“I highly doubt it,” he adjusted the collar of his jacket. “But anything is possible, I guess. You ready to get out of here?”

You each put your hands in your pockets as you shuffled outside, both dragging your feet, both of your mind’s racing on how to not let the night end. You stood under the awning as the rain drizzled, the sky threatening to burst open in a matter of seconds.

Eddie took a chance. “How about I drive you back to the motel?”

-----------

He parked his van next to your truck and turned the engine off because you were still going through his cassette tapes and he didn’t want to rush you. He also liked watching your face as you picked up each one to look at it---you were almost as excited as when you were looking at the coins.

“I haven’t seen these albums on cassette tape in...well…” you stopped short, picking up a few that came out in the ninties/early 2000’s, including a few you’d never heard of—and were almost certain had never existed. The sleeves were warped from water damage and a few of the plastic covers were cracked or broken. You should’ve been glad to see them, because it let you know that you weren’t trapped back in time. The thought occurred to you that Hawkinsgate was a place, and not a time.

“I found those,” Eddie told you with pride, answering the question before you could ask it.

“In the same place you found the coins?” Anyone else might have had a hard time wrapping their brain around the idea, but you were fascinated. His van smelled just like you imagined it would: clean, Irish Spring scent, mixed with vanilla, cigarette smoke, leather, and just a whiff of mold after a rainy season.

“No, princess,” he turned in his seat and stretched one of his legs down between the two seats. “They are usually in the abandoned cars we find and have to tow back to the junkyard.”

...abandoned cars…lost things...someone else’s trash…

You looked down at a mix tape that someone had made that said, “Sandy Loves Roger”, and then a bunch of handwritten song titles in blue ink that were too water damaged to be legible.

“Eddie?” Your voice wavered.

“Yes?” He returned in a sing-song way.

“How many Visitors like me have you met?”

“A few.”

“10? 15?”

He shrugged. “Hundreds, I think.”

“Hundreds?!”

You hadn’t been prepared for that number, and your reaction made him wish he had told you that he simply wasn’t sure, instead of giving you a number. Maybe this place was like those vortexes where balls roll up hill and magnets stop working.

“I’ve never taken one to dinner though,” he picked at something invisible on the steering wheel. “Some of them end up here for years, and some for only a few hours.”

You were staring at the dash in front of you now, your thoughts far away, trying to pinch a bubble of a memory before it floated away or broke. “Do they ever get their memories back while they are here?”

“Not usually until the end,” he cringed at his wording. “I mean, not until right before they go back.”

You looked down at the handful of cassette tapes in your hand. “Tomorrow I’m going to have to try and get back home, wherever that is.”

“I know,” Eddie swallowed. If you were still there in the morning, he knew you would try—everyone did.

“But I promise to come by the garage and say goodbye,” you smiled halfheartedly, but you couldn’t look at him.

Eddie turned to you with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

-------------

In the morning, after getting some coffee from the lobby and eating a stale granola bar that had been stashed in your purse while watching an old Bugs Bunny cartoon, you showered and packed up your truck. You used the last one of your tampons and made a mental note to stop at the next grocery store you found to replenish. You locked up your room and drove over to park in front of the lobby to drop off your key and pay for the night.

Claudia gave you a concerned look when you told her you were checking out. “Well,” she took the key you were holding out to her, but kept her palm flat and didn’t close her fist around it. “Would you like me to hold the room for you, just in case?”

“That’s okay, I really need to get back,” you fumbled with your bag to get your wallet out, forgetting for a moment that it was empty.

“Back where, hon?” She meant it genuinely, but you had to look up at her to make sure she wasn’t being sarcastic.

“I’m not sure, but I’m just going to go back the way I came and get back to the freeway,” you said with all of the confidence you could muster. “Are there any internet cafes around here?”

Claudia looked almost offended by the question. You opened your wallet and, with a flood of relief, realized that your unused credit card with the $500 limit was still in there. The ID and the cash and the debit card were still gone, but at least you had something to work with.

You shook your head apologetically for expecting her to know what an internet cafe was. “Do you happen to know a place where I could buy a phone?”

But to that question, she had an answer. “There’s one over there you can use,” she told you with an enthusiastic expression, pointing to the payphone that was just inside the door. But then, she remembered that you were a Visitor, and she put her elbows on the counter, moving her fingers to make a rectangle shape as she talked. “Or do you mean one of those handheld devices with the computers in them?”

“Yes,” you were excited that she understood. “I need to get one of those. Do you know a place?”

“No, sorry,” she stood back up to make room for another cat to walk across the counter.

You tried to pay for the room with your credit card, but Claudia showed quite a bit of interest in the bracelet you had on, and so you traded that, and a can of half empty hairspray, and an unopened palette of six eye shadows for your stay. You weren’t attached to any of the items, so you felt like you got it for a steal.

Claudia stood in the window and watched you go, putting the key to your room in her pocket for when you came back.

------------

There was an older man with gray hair at the pumps filling up another car when you pulled in. You drove right by him and over to the garage side of the building that had two open bays. You could see Eddie’s legs sticking out from under a car, and so you turned the engine off and tried to sneak up on him.

As you tip-toed into the bay you could hear Black Sabbath playing from a boombox on a nearby chair, and then the sound of a wrench turning and bolts tightening. You were just about to kick the bottom of his foot when---

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, giving you a start. And then he used the heels of his feet to roll out from underneath on the creeper, his hands braced on the bumper, and gave you a smile. “You must think I’m dumb as hell,” he teased. His hands were covered in dirt and grease, and there was a smudge of black on his cheek.

“I didn’t know you heard me drive up,” you wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for him to stand.

Eddie got to his feet with a bounce in his step, holding the wrench he was using in one hand. “Oh, I could feel you coming a mile away, sweetheart.”

It was a playful flirtation, mostly a joke, but it was also true.

Without realizing what you were doing, you stepped forward to cup his face in your hand and used your thumb to wipe some of the dirt off of his cheek. “Sorry, there,” your eyes met, and something stirred in you. His breath caught in his chest, grateful for your touch.

Flustered, you moved back, clasping your hands behind your back so that you wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you told him. “And thank you again, for everything.”

He couldn’t lie, the fact that you hadn’t evaporated in the middle of the night made him happier than he should be under the circumstances.

“Take care of yourself,” Eddie told you. “If you need anything, you know where I’ll be.”

“I’ll come back to visit.” It was a promise you didn’t know if you could keep, but you wanted it to be true.

“I’ll be here,” he gave a chuckle, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his coveralls.

You looked both ways and turned onto the highway, headed back in the direction you had come the day before. It was still overcast, but the sun was bright behind the clouds, and the rain had ceased for now. You flicked the radio on to Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship and took an unsteady breath as you drove down between cornfields, feeling like you were back on track; grateful for a new day, and looking forward to getting back to your life. Whatever that meant.

The two lane highway seemed to go on forever without any turn off or side roads, and you swore that you came off the exit ramp not too far down from Gary’s Garage. You reasoned that it had been pouring down rain, and you were...sad about something...so maybe you had driven for a longer distance and didn’t realize it.

45 minutes later, all of the radio channels went to static, and you pulled off to the side of the road to catch your bearings. You were the only car on the road that entire time, and at one point, you thought you saw a stop sign up ahead, but it ended up being a red piece of clothing hanging from a mile marker.

You swallowed back your fear and frustration and kept going, continuing to turn the radio dial, hoping for a song or some sign of life, but the static persisted.

“How do I not remember all of this corn?” The fields of tall, green corn stalks were endless, and you were sure that there had been tall trees at some point in your journey the day before.

God, you must’ve been really out of it that day.

Almost two hours later and you hadn’t passed a single street sign. The numbers on the mile markers were all out of order and didn’t make any sense. At one point you realized that there must’ve been some turn off that you missed, but it was too late to go back and find it, and if you just kept going, you were bound to run into a freeway or, at the very least, another town.

Later that day, after pulling over to weep frustrated tears several times and shout muffled screams into the palms of your hands, your heart leaped as you could see up ahead that the corn ended and turned into a cluster of trees. There were outlines of buildings and telephone poles: signs of life!

You pressed the gas to the floor, whispering “we did it we did it we did it” to your truck, choking on a sob of joy. You entered the city limits and wiped your eyes, glad to see an official speed limit sign. You passed by a friendly looking park and a Family Video, and then there was a quaint downtown area with a Radio Shack, and a general store. You yanked the wheel to park in front of the general store, because you were scared to know how well that one tampon was holding out, and you hoped to hell that they had a bathroom.

The woman named Joyce who worked there said they didn’t have a public restroom, but at second glance, she could tell that you were in a bad way, and said you could use the one in the break room. There were only a couple boxes of tampons on the shelf, and all of them were different brands and sizes. You had a weird feeling in your gut, but you disregarded it.

You tried to pay for the tampons and a bottle of water, but Joyce wouldn’t let you. She put her hand on top of yours, looked directly into your eyes, and what she said made the hair stand up all over your body. “Listen, I know it must be scary. But you’re going to be okay. Everything will be okay.”

She looked around to see if the other coworker on the opposite side of the room could hear her, and then she lowered her voice again, pushing the merchandise toward you discreetly on the counter. “These are on me, okay? You take care of yourself while you’re here.”

“...while you’re here…”

You were afraid to ask her where “here” was, and you wanted so badly for her to hug you and tell you it was all just a dream. She was just that type of person; the type you knew gave really tight, genuine hugs.

By the time you recognized Newby’s Diner and the Grove Motel from the road, you weren’t shocked to see them, in fact, a strange, empty resolve had begun to settle in you, one born of exhaustion, hunger, and mind-bending fear.

Later that night, on his way home from work, Eddie saw your truck parked at the motel again, and he felt guilty for being glad. He had this urge to check on you, to console you and let you know that everything would be okay—but he didn’t want to lie to you. There were two strands of your hair left on the passenger seat in his van, and he planned on leaving them there, just in case one day the rest of you didn’t exist, at least he would have that.

#eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem reader #80s nostalgia #80s

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strawbrygashez · 1 year

Text

Fem!Reader x Catboy! Postal 4 Dude

Catboy Moment

🐱LETS GOOOOOO!!! Catboy p4 time. The reader is a little dumb uhmmmm no tws I think :0 pdude gets beat up tho 0_0

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Of course today of all days, it had to rain. The day your car wouldn’t start, it was pouring out, and it was grocery day. You’d decided to just only pick up the basics that you needed and try to talk your way into having a relative who lived near by drive you back over to the store the next day to get the rest of the things you had decided to leave behind, since it was bad enough you were walking home in the pouring rain, you didn’t need to make it worse by carrying at least ten bags home.

You let out a sigh as you glanced up at the dark rain clouds that didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon before you focused back onto the sidewalk in front of you. It was your first time walking around town actually since your job kept you so busy to the point where you didn’t have much time to try new things like walking through town. Most of the time it was just go, go, go with you so you never had the chance to really take in your surroundings…You were sure it would probably a lot more enjoyable of a day right now if it wasn’t pouring cats and dogs out.

Eventually you were coming up towards the big old hotel not far from your little neighborhood. Glancing over at it, you couldn’t help to remember when you were talking to a friend about places around town and they brought up this place. The way they had talked about it had honestly sounded like a teenager telling a fake, creepy urban legend. A creepy old man who ‘disappears’ often working inside, the place staying in business though barely any one was ever actually seen staying over, and heaps of trash always apparently completely filled the back ally behind it. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the whole idea. What was probably happening was just some busy old man was running the place as a side hustle and that’s how it was still staying up. Sure things and people around town could be really odd but you highly doubted the hotel was anything like a episode out of the Twilight Zone.

You were about to turn down the street where it would be out of you view until you heard a sound that caused you to freeze in your steps. It had sounded like someone.. a male possibly, had shouted in pain though you couldn’t be sure. You could have misplaced the sound since the wind was blowing awfully hard. It could have been knocking something over or something and you were just- another yell came out loudly before it was followed by whoever it was swearing. Realizing someone might actually be in trouble, you only took a minute to listen in again before darting to where you thought the sound was coming from which was the back ally your dumb friend had spoken about. Maybe running into a back ally where yelling was coming from wasn’t the best idea but you couldn’t just ignore someone desperately needing help while in pain.

Running through the rain, you turned the corner that led to behind the large, old hotel to see a group of what looked like teenage boys all surrounding something. Oh great. Teenagers were always a pain in the ass to deal. They always get up into god knows what.

They hadn’t noticed you as you peaked over a bit more and when one of the teenaged men shifted over a bit, you realized they weren’t surrounding something, they were surrounding someone. It was made all the more clear as one of them drew their foot back before kicking the man laying on the ground in the back, hard.

You were filled with rage as the poor man let out a groan as they laughed. Really? Picking on a older homeless person? Are their lives so sad they had to pick on a defenseless person to feel better about themselves? You couldn’t help but let the rage fill your voice as you basically barked at them to, “HEY! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. NOW!” It caught them off guard enough to make a couple jump but they all began to snicker as you began to chase after them while wildly swinging your bags around at them. You hit at least two of them before they ran off still giggling like the idiots they were.

You watched in anger as they ran away…‘Fucking idiots.’ You thought. You’d have to remember what they looked like to keep a eye out and make a report later. Damn it, you should have tried to get a picture of the fuckers before you’d made yourself known or something. You kept thinking of all the things you’d like to do for revenge until the sound of coughing from next to you finally pulled you out of your thoughts.

Looking next to you, you saw where laid the man that had took the beating. Seeing him shake made you quickly drop down next to him, drop your bags and gently take hold of his upper arm as he laid on his side. “Oh god.. Do you need me to call the ambulance sir? Are you bleeding or anything?” That had been a dumb question obviously since he’d just been attacked by five men but to your surprise after a bit more groaning and a couple coughs, the man slowly moved to lay back onto his back, his face twisting in pure pain as he did so, before he managed to get out a, “Agh.. shit. No. I can’t afford that shit.”

Your heart filled with remorse as you saw how rough he looked. His nose was bleeding, he definitely had gotten hit in the face and his sunglasses were cracked. The man probably didn’t have much from what you could tell and these assholes had destroyed one of his belongings.

You carefully removed his sunglasses which revealed his green eyes that were squinting at you. “Sir.. I really think you need some kinda help. I mean at least we could go over to the police station and-” you stopped speaking when he shook his head slightly and he went to rub his eyes since they were watery. “No. I don’t like talking to them. I’ll just-” He trailed off before moving his hands as he tried to attempt to sit up before he cursed again and just laid back down.

It was only then you noticed he’d been laying on top of a cardboard box that had been smushed in though you weren’t sure if it was from just him laying on it or if the men had torn it up. It caused pity to fill your heart even more for this guy you didn’t know. “I’m.. so sorry. What happened? Did they just randomly start picking on you?” You asked as you reached out towards him to get a stand of wet hair out of his face. He closed his eyes when you did so before he replied. “I guess. I don’t.. they just came up and starting saying dumb shit. Calling me shit and whatever. All because the damn ears and tail I guess..” Uh what?

He again tried to sit back up and did so successfully this time though he groaned again as he did so. “Damn. Even back when I was a teen I don’t think people were as savage as kids these days.” He said as he looked down at himself and his dirty clothes.

It was only when he was sitting up when you noticed that oh yeah, he definitely was a cat person or in this case, a catboy. You didn’t know many to be honest so you couldn’t help but stare at his cat ears that had fur the same color as his hair and what you could see of his tail which was the same color but fluffier.

He eventually looked back up at you again once he’d wiped some blood away from a cut on his leg. It quickly got you back onto what was more important at hand here, the fact that he was injured and in need of help instead of the fact he was a older ‘catboy’ man. You shook your head to get yourself out of your thoughts before you spoke. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll figure out how to report them later. I work in a busy store closer into town. I’ll probably see them again eventually. But seriously Sir.. I think you need to at least find somewhere else to stay for a bit. They might come back. There is a homeless shelter I think not way too far off I can walk you to.”

He stared at you for a minute in silence before he gently took his sunglasses back out of your hand and looked down at them. He seemed to ignore your concerns as he just replied, “Thanks for saving my ass. Usually punks like them just ignore me for the most part.” He ran a thumb over the shattered lens.

Though you wanted to help him out anyway you could, you couldn’t help but to be a little frustrated at him for not taking what just happened to him that seriously. Those fuckers can’t get away with this and who knows if the man had a broken bone or something? You thought to yourself a bit before you came up with a idea. Maybe not the most sane one ever but if he wasn’t going to see a professional…

“It was nothing. I hate people like them. But uhm, Would you maybe be okay with being patched up somewhat over at my place? I’m sorry but I wouldn’t feel right leaving you out here. I need to do something at least for you.”

Dude again was silent as he looked at you. You had already done something for him. You saved him which wasn’t something most people would try to do for him often in his fucked up life. Plus, he was also trying to be realllly nice in his head towards you and ignore the thoughts about you being a dumbass for randomly confronting a group of unhinged kids as woman who didn’t know if they were armed or not.. and now was inviting a stranger to come over. He knew you did all that because- well, he hoped it was at least because you were brave and not just willingly ignorant. But either way your actions came out of a place of genuine care which he had to respect and found kind. So he looked himself back over again, seeing how dirty his clothes were (more than usual) and all the blood and cuts and bruises before he looked back towards you.

“I uh- I suppose if really can’t leave me be otherwise..” he mumbled. You gave him a soft grin before you picked your bags back up off the ground. “Just until the rain stops and I know you’re not uh.. in critical condition.” You reassured him. He gave you a half smile back which you were kinda surprised at. Even though this guy had gotten what looked like the life beaten out of him, he seemed somewhat unfazed. Which also made you concerned a bit though since that probably meant he’s gone through worse. But you ignored that thought for now as you noticed him struggling to get up.

You reached over and wrapped you arms around him to support him as he put a arm around you so he could stand up. Once he did, he immediately got a pained look again as he placed both his hands on his back. “God damnit. Those kids really had to go for my back of all places..” He grumbled with a frown. You held back any comment along the lines of ‘see? I know you need to see a professional right now.’ Since you knew he probably wouldn’t budge. Instead you just leaned back in again and wrapped a arm around him to help support him as you began to take a couple steps. “Yeah. Hopefully some pain meds will help ease the pain a bit. There isn’t too many other things I can think of to help ease the pain other than that..” you said which made him chuckle a little and say something about having his own medicine too but once he patted his pockets for whatever said ‘medicine’ was and he realized he lost it, he frowned and cussed again, now seeming even more upset than before.

Thankfully you didn’t live way too far from the building. You didn’t talk much with him on the way home since you could tell he was putting most of his energy into not just giving up and falling back down onto the ground in agony every five seconds. You did however get his name, which was apparently just ‘Dude’. God this man was strange all around once you thought about it but you put that thought aside for the time being. Even if he did seem a bit odd he needed help. And he wasn’t terribly odd to the point of being unnerving, he’d even offered to hold a couple bags for you though you denied the help. Though he was going through his own obvious shit, he still had this charm about him that you couldn’t help not to be interested in. Maybe once everything was said and done you could get his story out of him on how he ended up presumably sleeping outside..with him you could tell it was probably a interesting story of how he ended up the way he was.

Once you got in, your focus shifted towards planning what to do with him first though. You could go ahead and go grab your first aid kit and have him sit down but you could tell Dude really, really needed to shower. Him and his clothes were pretty filthy and you were sure that even if it didn’t help ease his pain that much, it would feel nice to at least start off by feeling fresh again. So you tossed your bags onto the couch for right now with one hand before you slowly removed your arm out from behind him. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to but maybe it would help to take a shower first? And get all the grime off you so you won’t get infections in your cuts. I can run your clothes through the wash also.” You offered as you shimmied your coat off.

He stopped glancing around your little living room once you offered that. “I guess if that’s fine.” He replied. You assumed he didn’t fight much with you on that since he probably really had been wanting a shower even before the events of today. You assured him it was no issue before you excused yourself to quickly put some of the food you picked up away before you led him to your bathroom. “Just set your clothes outside the bathroom door. I’m sure they’ll feel a lot better once they are cleaned.”

He looked from the bathroom back down to you. “And if they aren’t cleaned when I’m done?” He asked. Oh duh. It would take a while for all his clothes to be clean thoroughly. You thought to yourself for minute. Maybe you could run out really quick to the store again and pick up some new clothes? But then again it was raining even harder out and who knows if those bullies were hanging out around outside looking for trouble again. The thought crossed your mind to ask you neighbor for a quick drive over but you remembered they were gone for a trip this weekend. And well, also you weren’t that incredibly dumb (somehow) to leave basically a stranger alone in your house. So what the hell were you going to do? You thought a bit longer before it hit you.

“Ah oh yeah. My ex boyfriend left some of his clothes here and never picked them up. I’m sure you’re around the same size as him.” You said with a grin. At least something worked out in your favor today. Dude shrugged and said something about he’ll try them on at least. You went and grabbed one of your exs old band shirts and gray sweat pants, handed them over and showed him were all the towels and hair products were before you left him to go rinse off. You waited for him to toss his old clothes outside of the door and went and took them to the washer and started the load before you listened to the shower water start to run for a bit. Until you were sure he was fine before you went and dug around in your kitchen cabinets for your first aid kits and bandages and while you were at in in there, you grabbed a couple snacks for him since you had some hope that eating would make him feel a bit better.

Eventually he wandered out after a while and went back into the living room where he heard the tv playing and you digging through your first aid box. You gave him a grin once you saw him not all dirty as earlier. “Was it okay? Do you feel better?” You asked as he made his way over to sit next to you on the couch.

“Mm.. yep. Had to cut a damn hole in the back of the sweat pants though for my tail. I’m guessing you don’t date catboys, huh?” He joked as his tail actually swayed a little. You laughed a little before shrugging. “I would. Just hasn’t happened yet. Anyways, is there any cuts that are really bad? I uh- I’m a bit squeamish when it comes to stitches though just so you know. I mean I could probably do it but uhm..” you trailed off as he leaned further into the couch.

“Nah. If I was bleeding that bad I would have probably passed out in that shower. I think most of what I got are bruises besides some cuts on my legs. Kinda deep but nothing I can’t handle.” He said, looking over at the tv. You’d left on the news channel where they were currently going over the weather. It didn’t look like it was going to let up any until tomorrow by the looks of it.

“Well.. let me check anyways. A bandage could never hurt yknow?” You said as you sat up to pull your coffee table up closer towards the couch so he could put his legs up. He gave you a little look like ‘seriously?’ but put them up anyways before rolling up the pants, revealing some pretty nasty cuts and scratches but nothing really insanely life threatening by the looks of it. You moved to sit next to his legs on the ground before digging around for bandages of different sizes. “Should I put some ointments on any? Some of them might sting though so…”

He shook his head and smiled down at you. “Nah. Your little bandages aren’t going to be helping much anyways but I guess it’s the thought that counts.” He teased. You ignored him and got to work patching him up. He watched you work until the snack cakes you’d sat on the couch arm next to him caught his eyes which you noticed. “You can go ahead and have those.. I left them out for you. If you don’t like em you can dig around for something else once I’m done.”

He picked one of them up and went ahead and opened the packaging. “Nah. These are good. But y/n.. can I tell you something?” He asked before he went and took a bite of the snack cake that had strawberry cream in the middle.

“Mhm.”

“Do you just invite anyone to your house? I mean I definitely appreciate you wanting to help but you really need to have some kinda awareness, hun.” He said as he chewed (Yuck)

You didn’t answer for a bit as you peeled off the back of another bandage. Honestly he did have a point.. you really did need to try to think through things more but you couldn’t have left him there like you told him earlier and plus… “I dunno. You seem nice enough I guess? Just uhm. Down on luck?”

Dude rolled his eyes. “Even still. You never know with people these days. Well even back in my day it was smart to question everything and everyone.. I dunno you just need to be safer is all I’m saying. The worlds fucked.”

You nodded along but couldn’t help smile a little at the safety comment. “Well, what about you? You need to learn how to be safe too. Sleeping out in the rain and refusing medicinal help isn’t the safest idea in my opinion.” You playfully pointed out. He shrugged however. “Well there is somethings you can’t help. You just gotta know your way around situations is all.”

After you finished and Dude finished his safety talk, you got some pain killers and moved his clothes over to the dryer and once you came back into the living room where he was sitting, you noticed he’d began to relax even more into the couch. You couldn’t help but to notice how his eyelids had begun to look a bit heavy as he occasionally had his eyes closed for small periods of time. You didn’t wanna really question when was the last time he’d been able to sleep somewhere nice. The bags under his eyes told you it definitely hadn’t been for a while though.

You bothered him anyways to hand him a water and some medications which he took without a fuss.

Once he sat the water bottle down after taking the pain killers he began to talk. “The news is saying it’s going to get worse out there tonight. Just my luck huh?”

It had already gotten a bit worse already from what you could tell from what you could tell from outside one of your windows that had the curtains still open. It had gotten even darker and every now and the you could hear the rumbling of thunder. You really didn’t want Dude to go out in that so you shrugged. “You don’t gotta deal with it. You can stay over night. I have a quest bedroom.” You said before you took a seat next to him again back on the couch.

Dude chuckled. “God you treat me too good y/n. Or is that you just don’t want me to leave?” He teased, grinning at you. You felt your cheeks get warm at that. Besides being oddly charming for a weirdo, he was really attractive for multiple different reasons. The one reason that was sticking out to you the most though as you were looking at him right now was the fact at how good he made your douchebag of a ex boyfriends clothes look. You had been a bit somewhat wrong. Your ex had been kinda smaller than Dude so the pants and shirt fit kinda tight on him though Dude hasn’t said anything about that yet.

Dude had a really nice body.. a dad bod body even which you were into. The shirt even showed off his slight beer gut since the shirt was kinda stuck always riding up Dudes stomach. It fit him like a damn crop top more than anything else. Dude was also a really pretty tan color that went perfect with his hair. You could look at him forever honestly but it seemed like he noticed you checking him out which made you quickly face back towards the tv again. “I-I already told you Dude I just don’t wanna know you’re out there in all of that mess.”

“Hmmm… is that it?” He asked out loud which you didn’t respond to, continuing to just do your best to only pay attention to the TV.

You two sat up for a bit longer until you realized Dude was fighting off sleep which he clearly didn’t need to be doing so you managed to drag him to the little spare bedroom where you were now in the middle of telling him where everything was. He ignored you it seemed though as he walked towards the bed as you were in the middle of telling him what channels there were on the tv in there.

He pushed his hand into the mattress before he looked at you all big eyed. “Y/n… is this fucking memory foam?” He asked as he pulled blankets down like he was getting ready to get in.

“Uhm yeah! I kinda have a bad back too so I-”

You were interrupted by a very inappropriate sounding sound leaving Dudes mouth as he laid down on the bed. It made you blush even though he only made that sound because he was getting comfortable you guessed..but who the hell moans when feeling a nice bed?

“Oh-hohoho yeah. I’d die for this in my trailer.” He said closing his eyes. Though, again he had just fucking moaned because of a bed you felt pleased that he looked genuinely peaceful for once. “You got a trailer?” You asked.

“Mhm. Someone stole it though. I’m not actually for real homeless yknow?…Just down on my luck like you said.”

“Ah.” You replied. You were about to tell him to ‘well, get some sleep for tonight and we’ll figure out what to do next tomorrow’ but something caught your attention. If you listened you could hear a faint sound. The sound of a purr and well, since you didn’t have a cat you knew it was coming from him.

“You can purr?!” You asked in shock. You supposed it made sense since he is part cat but you never thought that trait had carried over into cat people being mostly human. He opened his eyes and looked over towards you, his face getting a little red. He looked kinda embarrassed as he answered. “Uh yeah. I’m just comfy though that’s why.”

“Hmm. It’s not because of how good I’m treating you?” You asked with a teasing tone as you got closer towards him. He smirked and shrugged. “I dunno. It’s probably part of it.”

“Hm. I see.” You said before thinking to yourself for a moment. “Can I try something?” you suddenly asked. Dude looked a bit quizzical at you but shrugged again. “I guess.”

With this permission, you reached over and began to scratch behind his ear.

————————————————————————

Note: I don’t know how to end this and if I tried to think of how to it would be stuck in my drafts forever but it was gonna end with him purring even more, being uwu shy kawaii nervous but y’all going to bed in diff rooms LOL uhh maybe I’ll actually do a better ending eventually I dunno. Maybe I’ll make a part two one day :/c

#postal dude #postal 4 #postal dude x reader #sorry for mistakes #I’ll maybe re do the ending another time LOL #this a crappy fic sorry lol

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pisupsala · 2 years

Text

Of All The Stars in The Sky | 4 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings | Mature content | 18+ only [WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut

Words | 7k

Library

Chapter 4 - By The Light of The Silvery Moon

It’s twilight—the snow outside is casting an eerie glow from the setting sun into the room. Bradley is dozing, book resting open on his chest. You steered clear of him all day, only showing up to bring him food and clean up. Bradley feels almost like you’ve lifted the veil of you a little bit too much last night, allowed him a short but too clear glimpse of you, and now you’re deliberately putting as much distance between him and you as you possibly can.

It’s lonely. More than he’d like to admit.

He’s so used to have people around him, a girl on his arm—Bradley doesn’t do well on his own. He doesn’t like being by himself. It’s just a stark reminder of how little he has to return to. A pretty smile, soft skin and hard liquor make it easy to forget.

But you are completely elusive to him. Bradley would consider himself a good judge of character, but he can’t get a grasp on you. A little too innocent, a little green, that small tremor in your hand as you point your gun—but then you get that calculating look in your eyes, like he’s nothing more than a math problem you’re working your way through. And you’ve still told him exactly zero about you actually do. Even the culmination of everything you did tell him amounts hardly any identifiable information.

You’re a clever little puzzle, and idle hands are the devil’s plaything.

Bradley is completely zoned out, although he is sure he keeps hearing voices. He is absolutely sure he can hear your voice. There are other voices too, male voices. They sound urgent, angry. He can hear you practically hiss at the other side of the door.

Suddenly there is a shout—a third voice, booming. Bradley sits up in bed, still sleep drunk—it’s completely dark now—trying to hear what is being said, but he can’t make out a single word. When the door suddenly slams open, Bradley is wide awake. A stocky, angry-looking man is storming in, with you hot on his heels. Blindly, Bradley grasps next to him, hoping his gun would suddenly materialize besides him. Before the intruder can turn to him, you grab him by the back of his collar so forcefully, that even though he’s a full head taller than you, he stumbles back. You spit words at him furiously while pulling him back, eyes blazing, completely unafraid.

You are a little spitfire.

Bradley can’t help but feel impressed—you don’t even flinch when the man grabs you by the elbow, pulling you out the room, yelling back at you. But you dig in your heels, stumbling after him, still biting out words acerbically. Bradley is about to get up from the bed—he has no idea what you are fighting about, but he’s not going to watch you get manhandled.

A second man enters the room quietly, completely unfazed by the scene that just played out, just as you disappear around the corner, angrily hissing and spitting at your adversary. He is dressed is dark, casual clothes, with a rifle hanging from his shoulder. Hands are tucked in his pockets, he makes his way across the room slowly. His eyes are deep set and a piercing blue. He studies Bradley for a moment. Bradley stares straight back at him. The man is too calm given the circumstances, and it’s setting him on edge. There is a strange energy in the room. Sure, he is tall, but kind of lanky looking. Bradley weighs his options—in his current condition, could he take the rifle?

Calmly, almost leisurely, the man sits down on the chair by the bed—the very one you had used the day before. Bradley can still hear you argue in the other room, although neither of you is yelling anymore. Is that an angry boyfriend or husband, flying off the handle because you’ve been stuck in a cabin with a stranger? Bradley wonders idly.

You never mentioned anyone, but then again—you didn’t mention much of anything about yourself. The man is looking around the room in the meantime, like he’s scanning from something, as he digs in the inner pocket of his jacket.

He still hasn’t said a word.

Bradley leans back again, feigning comfort at the increasingly uncomfortable situation.

Finally the man pulls out a metal cigarette holder. Popping it open, he takes one out and clamps it between his lips, before offering one to Bradley.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Is all he says, in a calm voice. Bradley notices that pronounces lieutenant in the British way—like lef-tenant. Also, his L’s lilt a lot more than yours, making the sound heavier.

Deciding to play it cool, Bradley takes a cigarette. It’s only polite, after all.

“Sergeant Horal,” He vaguely motions as himself as he lights his cigarette, before handing Bradley his lighter. “Czechoslovak Signal Corps.” He adds, almost shrugging.

“U.S. Navy.” Bradley replies, lacking anything better to say, as he takes the lighter.

“So I have been told.” Sergeant Horal inhales, leaning back in the chair. “An… uncommon occurrence.”

“Uncommon and unwanted.” Bradley replies flatly. It’s not like he chose to be here, or even wants to be.

“I agree.” The sergeant replies lightly, although there is no trace of accusation in his tone. In the other room, the arguing has stopped. There is just the occasional clang of dishes.

“Forgive the intrusion, lieutenant.” Horal produces Bradley’s documents from his jacket pocket, placing them on the side table next to the bed. His manner is unhurried, almost deliberately slow. “I had to verify.”

“And?” Bradley can’t help but ask, as he takes a slow drag. “Am I verified?”

Horal grins and shrugs—like it ultimately doesn’t matter either way. “With the information we have, sure.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“We are dead.” Horal says it so matter-of-factly, it gives Bradley pause. “Or we kill you, and we have dead American officer on our hands.”

With a grin, that has that little bit of madness behind if from someone that has seen too much, one that Bradley has seen in his fellow pilots a few times too many, Horal simply concludes: “Either way: problem.”

Great.

In the kitchen, you are rubbing your sore elbow, while angrily staring down your compatriot. As far as you are concerned, the stocky man angrily staring back at you from the table, Jan, is an idiot. You spent the majority of the day coming up with an as gentle as possible explanation of the… relative complication that Rooster’s presence presented. Emil, as usual, took it all in without much of a reaction, only announcing that you would proceed as planned.

He handed you several items, carefully wrapped in cloth—a spool, a circuit board and several wires. Your heart sinks a little bit when you see the dents in the metal and the specks of rust. Will they still work? It’s a last-ditch attempt at repairing a broken radio, lovingly named Libusche, after the mythical queen. It was smashed in a raid a year ago—the other radio, called Sparta, is currently missing.

You will drop these items off with the engineer, an old man that lives on the outskirts of the capital with his wife and dog. A retired radio technician, he is probably the last person on your side, who has the knowledge and skills to patch Libusche up, who is currently in pieces on the floor of a hidden ante chamber of the coal hole under the house.

You usually visit the house under the guise of helping the elderly couple with chores—when the lady of the house needs her rugs dusted in the snow, or the heavy black out curtains need a wash, or the weeds in the garden need pulling.

Jan flew off the handle at the idea that you would transport both the radio parts and the pilot. The kindest thing he called you was a silly goose—because how would you recognize a spy? What would you do in case of an emergency? You’ve never been in a gun fight.

That’s when the scuffle started, Jan got it into his thick skull he would interrogate Rooster himself. Of course, any information you shared was compromised, the documents were forged beyond your comprehension and Rooster has clearly been pulling the wool over your eyes.

How Jan was planning to actually do the interrogation is beyond you, since he doesn’t speak any English beyond a few basic phrases. That was also the extent of the shouting match you were having as you tried to pull him from the room before he turned on you, accusing you of getting blinded by an American uniform. You don’t take kindly to people questioning your judgement.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, Anya?” Jan bites out, arms crossed, from his spot at the table. “You could have died—you could have gotten us all killed!”

“But I didn’t.” You snort haughtily. “And don’t call me that, we’re not that close.”

“Sure, argue decorum, instead of the matter of life or death we’re facing.” He grunts.

“The ground is frozen solid, Jan, and will be for another two months.” You deadpan, turning back to the kettle on the stove. “What exactly are you suggesting we do?”

“You shouldn’t be the one doing this! That’s what I’m suggesting!” He barks at you. “You should be at the ministry, swiping ration books.”

You scoff. Swiping ration books is the absolute most bad faith reading of you do for the resistance. “You act like we have a choice.”

Jan doesn’t reply, stewing at the table. You hear Emil and Rooster talk in the next room over. Emil is pretty much confirming everything Rooster told you before. At least he believes you. You all agree you need to find a way to get Rooster out of the Protectorate, and you need to so post-haste.

Not only because of the danger it poses for everyone involved and the drain on your already stretched recourses, but also because—and no matter how awful it might sound—saving an American officer is good for the resistance. If word gets out back in London it might spark a new wave of support for the cause—weapons, paratroopers and supplies might start finding their way back into the Protectorate, so you can start really rebuilding the network needed for effective fighting.

Bradley and Horal are burning through the carton of cigarettes.. But the sergeant has many questions about what is happening out west—what are the Allies planning? Strategic bombings of cities and infrastructure are shaking the Reich, but to what end? Are the Allies planning to reduce mainland Europe to ash and rubble to force the Nazis to surrender? What has he heard of the Protectorate? Is news of the efforts of resistance still reaching London?

Bradley replies to most questions evasively—strategic targets on the mainland and operational objectives are considered strictly top secret. About the Protectorate he is evasive because he just doesn’t know much—which Bradley feels a little bit embarrassed about, but every moment he is not flying on getting briefed on a mission he spends thinking very hard about anything but the war.

“I haven’t heard much about the home resistance here.” Bradley admits. “I’ve heard communication was lost, and your ranks were decimated.”

Horal has shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He looks tired.

“It’s more dangerous than before.” He supplies. “We lost technical knowledge, fighters, weapons, informants…” He wrings his hands. “But we remain loyal.”

Bradley nods in understanding. They sit in silence in the smoke filled room for a while.

“We have few people on our side, so we will have to work with what we have.” Horal starts. “You have some sort of emergency code? The frequency to some sort of mayday channel?”

“I do.” Bradley replies, eyes the sergeant carefully.

“Then all we need is a working radio.” Horal deadpans. Discomfort is creeping up Bradley’s spine—the past few days it had been easy enough to push most worries away while his main objective was not to get shot by you. He might actually, thoroughly be fucked in this situation. Just as he feels himself slip into despair, Horal claps his hands resolutely. “Under any other circumstance, we keep everything on need-to-know basis. But you are going to have to be active participant in this operation, so I’m going to brief you fully.”

Bradley learns Horal is one of the last remaining officers in your resistance group, therefore gaining de facto leadership over the branch that you were part of. The other man, Jan, is not a career soldier, having completed two years of national duty before the occupation. Horal stays vague on how you came to join or what your role is.

“While not ideal, Anya—or Anna as you call her -” He interjects vaguely. “Will have to be your handler. She will help you get to the capital and to safe house.”

“What’s not ideal about that?” Bradley should really keep his mouth shut. “I mean—she speaks English well…” He trails off. He could kick himself, he should really not imply to what is essentially your leader he’s interested in you beyond his own survival. Or that he’d like to occupy his time with you. Horal pulls up an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything at first, before sighing heavily.

“Anya is one of our final remaining assets on the inside.” He starts slowly, shaking his head. “We cannot afford for her to be compromised—she is vital in supplying papers, currency and information for us.”

“She has little golden hands, as we say.” He continues, wiggling his fingers in the air with a grin. Bradley had no idea what that means, but the sergeant doesn’t explain either.

“How has she managed to remain unnoticed?” Bradley can’t help but be curious. His brain is itching for new pieces of information about you, trying to fit another piece of the puzzle. He’ll figure out the little golden hands thing later. Personally, he hopes.

“Because no one pays attention to the help.” Your voice suddenly rings out. “Not when they are focussed on their own survival.”

Horal lets out something that must be a curse as he almost shoots out of the chair. Mouth agape, Bradley turns to you—it’s like you’ve materialized in the room from thin air, carrying that same old tea pot and mismatched mugs. Neither had noticed you come in, get up close, proving your point exactly.

You don’t smile, but Bradley can see the mirth in your eyes as you set down the steaming tea.

“So, what’s the plan?” You ask, as you pour the tea, before sitting down on the edge of the mattress at the foot end of the bed.

“You will take the package to the engineer as planned.” Emil says simply as he blows into his mug. “Lieutenant Bradshaw is coming with you.”

Bradley carefully studies your reaction. But your expression betrays nothing as you sip your tea.

“You’ll get him situated in the safe house on Vodni street and await further instructions.” At this, your eyebrows quirk up. Interesting.

“When are we leaving?” You ask, voice flat.

“Tonight.”

“What?” Your head whips around—you look shocked. “Ro- Lieutenant Bradshaw can hardly walk.”

“I can manage.” Bradley interjects. Horal explained that they needed to move as soon a possible because his presence here should be kept between as few people as possible. For everyone’s safety.

“We have no choice, Anya.” Horal replies evenly. “There’s thick mist coming down the mountain tonight. It will be perfect cover.”

“He’s hurt.” You exclaim. “Traveling downhill at night, in the deep snow -”

Horal simply holds up his hand. You clench your jaw like you have to physically restrain yourself for arguing further.

“Jan will go with you. We have a car ready down in the village.” He speaks with finality—this is the plan and there will be no further discussion. You purse your lips. You know there is no use in arguing, but the path down is slippery and dangerous with two good feet during daylight. Bradley is innocently drinking his tea. You shake your head, but don’t say anything else.

“You should rest, lieutenant.” Horal advises Bradley as he gets up. “You too, Anya—I will take night watch and wake you up.”

“Thank you, sergeant.” Bradley nods. As Horal leaves the room, you get up too, putting your mug on the floor.

“How’s the pain?” You ask, as your fingers gently skim over Bradley’s elevated ankle.

“I think the swelling is going down.” He replies, following your every move. You gently peel down his sock. Your fingers feel cool against the inflamed tendons. Bradley sucks in a breath between his teeth.

“Am I hurting you?” Your voice is gentle.

“No, no—that feels good, actually.” He wants to ask you not to stop, but cuts the thought short.

“It looks better.” You sigh. “I’m going to look if I can find something to wrap it with. You will hurt yourself more on the descent otherwise.”

You disappear through the bedroom door, where the low rumble of your male companions continues. When you return, you start wrapping his ankle in silence.

“Why does sergeant Horal call you Anya?” Bradley suddenly asks. Your hands still for a moment as you look up.

“It’s… a nickname.” You supply somewhat hesitantly, blinking at him.

“Can I call you that?” Bradley asks genuinely. There is no hint of teasing in his big brown eyes. The scruff that is forming on his face around this otherwise neatly kept mustache, together with the cuts adorning his smooth skin, are making him look rugged. “It’s cute.” He adds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The corner of your mouth twitches. You ignore the little twist in your stomach.

“Why not.” You concede, and you turn back to your work. From the corner of your eye, you notice Bradley smile contently. He is a strange one.

“Thank you, Anya.”

Your stomach twists a little more.

***

It’s some godforsaken hour in the middle of the night. The mist is so thick, everything disappears from vision beyond a few yards. You’re wrapping yourself up in about every layer you brought with you. Mercifully it’s not snowing, but the biting cold is not doing you any favors either. Bradley is bundled up in his flight gear—you don’t have a change of clothes available for him right now, and without proper papers he’ll get clocked right away anyway.

Bradley is shrugging on his jacket, trying to ignore how it’s still warm from you wearing it to sleep, and how the smell of your soap still lingers on the collar. He doesn’t care much he will have to part with the jacket after this, but he’ll miss seeing you bundled up in it. It was purely practical that you had worn it, of course. But also cute. Despite your sometimes cold and calculated look, your scathing words and icy tone—cute is the first word that comes to Bradley’s mind when he thinks about you. You’d probably freeze him dead with one look if he admitted out loud that’s what he thought of you. A little spitfire, caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time, but fighting for all that you’re worth anyway.

You are checking your torch, woolen hat pulled far over your ears.

“Good luck lieutenant.” Horal shakes Bradley’s hand as you all set off wordlessly into the night.

The snow is deep, and with every step, Bradley sinks away to about his knee into the cold. You are right in front of him, holding a torch aimed at the ground, trying to follow the path in the freshly driven snow. Jan’s torch is nothing more than a dim penlight a few meters ahead of you.

“How long will the descend take?” Bradley asks softly, already feeling the strain on his ankle with every heavy step. His voice resonates strangely, almost muted, as it's the only sound as you leave the small clearing of the cabin and enter the dense forest. He would expect there to be an echo, but it’s like the mist is acting like a cocoon. If there was a shade beyond total darkness, Bradley surmises this would be it. Beyond the two torches, there is not a single speck of light, the thick mist obscuring the night sky.

“Usually about half an hour.” You grunt as you step over a fallen branch, aiming your torch at it, so he can step over it too. “I expect it to take almost an hour under these conditions.”

“So a leisurely Sunday walk then?” Bradley grinds out as his leg sinks away in the snow again, almost losing his balance in the process. He leans his hand against a tree to keep steady.

“It’ll get easier once we reach the brook.” You reply easily as you grab onto his elbow, gently guiding him. “The snow on the bank won’t be as deep.”

You continue in silence. The forest at night is uncanny—it’s entirely too quiet, with only the occasional gust of wind rustling the tops of the high pine trees. The sounds of footsteps cracking through the snow is almost otherworldly, like an intrusion of the sanctity of the night.

Bradley feels the sweat running down his spine from the exertion, while the cold is biting his face. Now his muscles have warmed up, his core and chest hurt less, but his ankle is bearing the brunt right now—the wrap you applied not being enough to stave off the brutal pressure of walking downhill. He stumbles a few steps, despite his best efforts, gasping for breath. He certainly isn’t in bad shape in general, even after a few days of bed rest it’s impossible he would have lost so much of his fitness. But his wounds are sapping his strength, the sweat prickling on the cuts on his face. It doesn’t help, he can barely see a hand in front of his face, just the vague outline of you from the torch you’re holding.

Your hand is on his elbow again, as you guide him to sit on a fallen log. You whistle, two long tones and the second light, merely meters down the hill, yet barely visible, stops. You’re squatting down in the snow, carefully lifting Bradley’s injured leg, resting it on your thigh, so it’s elevated. Your breathing is coming out in short bursts as you wipe the sleeve of your coat over your forehead. You feel like you’re boiling up—under the many layers you are wearing, you feel like everything is sticking to your skin. “We can’t stop for long.” You warn. “In these conditions, we’ll freeze to death.”

“Just give me a moment.” Bradley groans, trying to flex his toes. It feels like his ankle is twice its size. You pull off your woolen mitt with your teeth, as you gently help him rotate his foot. As both your breathing settles, the ghostly atmosphere of the forest envelops you. Bradley is suddenly hyper-aware of every snapping branch and every shuffle in the snow.

“No bears or anything around here, right?” He asks, half jokingly. You pull up an eyebrow skeptically.

“We’re too far west for that.” You answer seriously. “Nothing here to fear but deer, foxes and the occasional squirrel.”

“Ah yes, I have heard of the dangerous apex predators called squirrels.” In the flickering light of the torch that is resting in your lap, Bradley swears he can see a ghost of a smile on your lips as you focus on gently moving his foot. Somewhere in the distance, there is a dull thud. Bradley’s head snaps around, almost pulling his foot from your lap, and pushing you over.

“That’s just snow falling from a tree.” You admonish him gently as you readjust your position. “I take it you haven’t spent much time in the mountains?” Your question is not accusatory in any way, merely curious.

“Nah, beaches and sea are much more my thing.” Bradley replies, wincing slightly. “My dad was in the Navy too, so I grew up around water.”

“That must be nice.”

“It was—the ocean front in Virginia is beautiful in summer.” Bradley watches you pull your mitten back on, blowing against the top of your fingers to warm them back up. “Maybe I’ll show you one day.” He teases lightly.

You let out a small snort. “I’m sure you will.”

You suppose he can’t help himself—Rooster appears to have a pathological need to turn every genuine moment into a flirty joke. It’s probably how he deals with pressure and stress, and as much as you hate to admit it, it’s growing on you a little bit. It sure beats Jan’s dour disposition to things, or Emil’s barely emotional reaction to anything.

Putting his foot down again, you get up. “We need to get moving again.” You announce, extending your hand to help Bradley up. Trying to regain his footing, he tests putting weight back on his ankle, while still clutching your hand. He winces, even though it feels marginally better.

“We’re almost half-way.” There’s a small frown on your face. “If you listen carefully, you can hear the brook in the distance.”

Bradley strains his ears, but he can’t hear anything that he would identify as water. His blood is pounding in his ears from the first step he’s taken. Walking through knee-deep snow, sweating profusely, is incomparable to any drill in the sand or water he’s ever done. The snow is heavy and unstable, making every step a precarious undertaking in finding secure footing. The dark and the mist are disorientating; even when you can physically feel you are descending, it’s hard to tell with way is up or down.

Bradley has no idea how long he’s been walking when you finally reach the brook. By now, he’s heavily leaning on you, arm around your neck. His injured foot feel simultaneously frozen and overheated. You are clearly straining under his hulking frame, but not a single complaint leaves your mouth.

“Not that you’re not doing a great job, Anya,” Bradley breathes heavily. “But wouldn’t it make more sense for your friend to help me?”

“Jan?” You inquire, out of breath, the wisps of hair that are peeking out from your hat plastered to your face from sweat. “He believes you’re a spy.”

“So?” Bradley groans as you help him step onto a big rock. “Shouldn’t he help you at least?”

You chuckle dryly. “He probably thinks it’s good riddance.”

“Really?”

“He’s kind of a dick.” You add dryly. “Unfortunately, we don’t get to choose pick and choose our allies right now.”

The further you descend, the more the mist clears. Finally, the moon breaks through the clouds to help illuminate the frozen landscape. Bradley has no idea how long you have been walking, and he can barely remember getting to the car, the pain and cold nearly blinding him. He can hear you and Jan snipe at each other as you lay him down in the back seat of the car.

You are worried. Bradley looks pale. While you understand the urgency of needing to move him, he clearly wasn’t healthy or able enough yet for this. You touch his forehead—it doesn’t feel like he’s running a fever again, but he looks exhausted. Bradley’s head is awkwardly resting against the door, but it can’t be helped. He’s too tall to completely stretch out.

Shrugging off your coat, you fold it up and tuck it behind his head. You wince, your shoulders and spine feel stiff from practically dragging Bradley part of the way. Jan only deigned to actually help you in the final stretch, complaining the whole way. Even now, he won’t shut up.

“Would you hurry up?” He cuts at you. “We need to be at least 60 kilometers south of here before daybreak.”

“Then you better drive fast.” You bite back. Turning back to Rooster, you adjust your coat behind his head a bit. “Try to rest, but keep low.” You instruct him. He cracks his eyes open to look at you and nods wordlessly. “We’ll be at the engineer in about two hours, we’ll check your ankle there.”

Sliding into the passenger’s seat, you tuck your gloved hands under your arms, shivering from the cold. This is a prime way to get the flu or pneumonia, you know, but everyone benefits if Rooster doesn’t get hurt even worse.

Bradley awakes to the sound of a dog barking, and someone tapping his shoulder urgently. When he opens his eyes, he just sees Jan curtly jerking his head at him, signalling him to get out of the car. Grabbing your coat and sliding out the back seat, Bradley finally has a moment to take a good look around. He’s standing in the driveway of a detached house, covered in sunny yellow plaster. In the distance he can see the mountains, and the sun rising in the east, coloring the sky in reds and oranges. His head finally feels clear, and while his muscles are stiff again, at least the icy burning sensation in his ankle has subsided.

“Don’t just stand there.” Your voice is suddenly next to him, grabbing his elbow and leading him into the house. Bradley only notices then you are being followed by an exited border collie, pressing its wet nose into the palm of his hand. You lead him into a kitchen, depositing him into a chair, where an elderly woman is bustling about. She immediately grabs you, firing off a list of things she needs from you as you just nod.

“If you had told me you were bringing an American here.” She exclaims. “I would have prepared! Now what will I feed him?” She continues. You know she’s being rhetorical, but can’t help to lazily reply: “I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you have to offer, he’s been sharing my rations for the past few days.”

“Anya!” The engineer’s wife exclaims. “Such a strapping young man needs more than that.” You roll your eyes at the admonishment.

“Auntie, please.” You stretch out, cracking your spine as you help Bradley out of his jacket. You are hungry, tired, and sweaty. So you really don’t want to discuss any strapping young men in your vicinity right now.

“I’ll show you to the bathroom, so you can shower.” You explain as you help him up again. “Auntie here,” You cock your head towards the old lady smiling brightly at him. “Has a change of clothes for you, and will make us some breakfast after that.”

Bradley conjures a charming smile onto his face. “Well, tell Auntie I’m very grateful.” He says warmly.

“Keep smiling at her like that,” You joke dryly. “She’ll cook you a mountain of food.”

“I could do with a mountain of food right now.” Bradley admits. He hasn’t eaten properly in what feels like a week. You scrunch up your nose as you help him up. “What?” He jokes. “Do I smell that rank?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I can smell you over my own stench.” You reply. Bradley keeps his mouth shut, but he can still smell the linger of soap on your skin as you move in front of him, leading him through the house.

“Where is the engineer?” He asks out of curiosity, as he looks around the house. There are barely any pictures on the wall, just a few paintings of flowers and landscapes.

“He’s around.” You reply vaguely, as you lead him up the stairs.

“I don’t get to meet him?”

“No,” You shake your head, before adding: “Operational security—it’s safer for you and him if you don’t have a face or a name for each other.”

Bradley nods. Keeping information compartmentalized is essential—he has no real idea of what kind of missions his fellow squadrons are flying, lest anyone would fall into enemy hands and have the information tortured out of them. Kind of the fate that is suddenly quite close to becoming a reality for him, he realizes bitterly.

***

A hot shower. Fresh clothes. It’s the small things in life that can make you feel human again. Bradley is standing in an empty bedroom, half dressed, examining himself in the large mirror perched on top of the dresser.

“Fuck.” He curses softly—his torso is covered in blooming bruises, purples, reds and yellows dappling his skin, outlining where his parachute harness cut into his flesh. It looks grim. Back when he was a rookie, he had an unfortunate training accident where he had to eject. It was a rough landing, and he got pretty banged up, although it’s nothing compared to now. Even after a hot shower, every movement hurts. He completely over-exerted himself already.

He runs his hands over his face. The skin is raised and dry, and a stubble had been steadily growing. Up until now, it’s only in the vague reflection of the window he has caught glimpses of himself—in the daylight in the mirror, he doesn’t look good, but he has also looked a lot worse. His hair is messy, and cuts on his face a healing despite looking pretty deep. Except the long cut that runs along his throat that pulls tightly on his skin every time hie moves, he can barely feel them now.

But he also knows that this is only a pit stop—he will have to travel on to the safe house today. He will have to ask you what the plan is for the next leg of journey, and more importantly, how much longer it will take.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Your voice sounds muffled on the other side of the wood.

“Sure.” Bradley replies, distractedly, eyes trained on the particular dark bruise on his left rib.

You walk in backwards, using your back to push the bedroom door open. In the reflection of the mirror, Bradley spies the crisp light blue button-up shirt you’re wearing, neatly tucked into the chocolate colored skirt that playfully swishes around your bare legs with every move. Your hair is neatly pinned back, falling around your shoulders in soft waves. You look fresh-faced, as your eyes meet his in the reflection of the mirror.

“I brought you a shaving ki-” You start, but the words die in your throat as you cannot help but let your eyes roam over Rooster’s well… exquisite from. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, no wonder he always had chicks around him. Despite the horrendous looking bruises, the way his muscles stretch and ripple under that smooth looking skin, feels like you’ve just been doused in cold water. You falter for a moment, swallowing dryly, fingers tightening around the small basin of warm water you’re holding.

Determinedly, you keep walking, brushing right past him to place the items you’ve been holding on the dresser in front of the mirror. “Shaving kit.” You finally finish your sentence. Bradley turns to you fully, feeling a little bit guilty he didn’t warn you he was not wearing a shirt—but now more fascinated by your reaction. Or rather, general lack thereof. It strikes him that you look like you’re holding your breath, despite every effort to look unfazed.

“I hope it doesn’t hurt too badly.” You utter, voice flat as you look him over, almost clinically. You are only concerned, you lie to yourself, it has nothing to do with excusing yourself to take another good look at Rooster up close. Right?

“It’s getting better.” Bradley replies softly. You nod, before resolutely turning on your heel, legging out of the room without looking back, the door softly clicking behind you.

Not the reaction he is used to, Bradley thinks haughtily. And it stings a little bit, because he has to admit it’s not the reaction he wants from you either. Just his luck. Crashed behind enemy lines, stuck with handler that happens to be a cute girl that won’t even look at him twice. Not in the way he would like you to look at him, anyway. Rationally, he fully realizes that it’s the best for everyone involved, you two keep everything strictly professional. Don’t try to fuck the hand that feeds you, he tells himself.

Back in the hallway, you exhale deeply—you feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. You gasp for breath, wrapping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound of your heavy breathing.

What is wrong with him calling you in like that? Scrunching your eyes shut, you vividly see those horrendous bruises, those chiseled arms, that broad chest -

Jesus, what is wrong with you? You’ve seen men without shirts before. Big deal. He clearly doesn’t care, why should you.

You feel like your skin is burning, as if you’ve just been scalded.

You aren’t blind, but you aren’t stupid either. Rooster knows he’s good-looking, and probably did that on purpose. To get a reaction out of you. Surely. How unfair of him. It’s all just one stupid joke after another, you think bitterly, like it’s all just a game.

Fine.

But you’re not playing.

When Bradley joins you at the table a little while later, you pretend like nothing happened. You are not acknowledging how nicely he scrubs up, freshly shaven, curls combed back. The suit he is wearing is a little tight around his shoulders, but you don’t comment. When he opens his mouth to say something, something akin to guilt in those big warm brown eyes, you easily cut him off.

“Please eat.” You tell him airily. “Auntie will be offended if you don’t.”

Dutifully, he starts eating as you turn to your own plate. Eggs, bacon, bread, butter— there are sweet buns filled with jam and cream cheese, hot ersatz coffee and fresh milk. All the things he hasn’t had since he shipped out. Auntie keeps piling stuff onto his plate, but he’s not about to complain.

A wet nose is prodding him in the elbow. The dog is begging him from something off his plate, insistently pushing into him. In the next moment, Auntie is pulling the dog away apologetically, but the moment she turns her back, he’s right back at Bradley’s side.

“You have an admirer.” You comment, looking over the table.

“Well, he’s a good boy.” Bradley replies, scratching the dog behind the ears.

“It’s a she.”

“Well, then she’s a good girl.” He amends without missing a beat. “Aren’t you, you beauty?”

Auntie yells something at you from the stove. You wave your hand somewhat dismissively as you reply, turning back to Bradley and the dog. Kaya – short for Katerina, which is by all accounts a pretty insane name for a dog – is a guard dog. It took you a good few attempts to get her to warm up to you by feeding her scraps from the table.

You are more of a cat person, anyway. But of course, Kaya takes to Rooster in the first five minutes—he’s showering her with compliments and cuddles now, and the dog’s tail is wagging so hard it’s shaking the table. You hesitate to admit to yourself that it must feel nice.

“Do you want a snack?” Bradley is playing with the dog. “Are you allowed a snack?”

“She’s not, but…,” Your eyes quickly flash over to Auntie, who is still with her back to you. Bradley follows your line of sight, before looking back at you. There is a small mischievous twinkle in your eye. “She does love fried egg.”

Bradley quickly swipes a bit off his plate, which Kaya immediately hoovers up. She almost climbs into his lap to get more, before you pull her off with a giggle.

“Maybe you shouldn’t encourage poor Kaya too much.” You admit, with a small grin.

“She knows what she wants and how to get it.” Bradley laughs. “I like that in a girl.”

No, no, no. He doesn’t mean anything by that, it’s just how he is, you think exasperatedly.

“Of course you do.”

You help clear the table after you’re done eating, instructing Bradley to stay seated and keeping his foot up. You will need to walk to the train station, and while there’s no snow here, it’s best for him to spare himself as much as possible. Before you can sit back down to finish your coffee, Auntie presses a glass bottle filled with clear liquid into your hands, together with some glasses.

“It’s for health and luck!” She pushes you, seeing your face pull into a grimace.

“It’s not even seven yet, Auntie.” You sigh.

“We have guests, Anya, we need to at least offer.” And with that she pushes you forward to the table.

“What’s all that?” Bradley asks as you place the bottle on the table. He feels full and content. He could sleep for the next twenty-four hours, probably.

“For health, luck, digestion, indigestion, and the love of god.” You reply dryly. Your fingers are struggling to get a grip on the cork. Just a Bradley is about to ask you if you need help, he notices that same little sparkle in your eye— a little bit of irreverence, a little bit of mischief and a love of a challenge.

Your tongue darts across your slightly parted lips, as you turn quickly to check where Auntie is, because you know what you’re about to do is going to invite her ire, but you’re going to do it anyway.

Bradley likes this look on you.

Mouth slightly agape, he watches you clench the cork between your teeth, but before he can tell you not to do it like that—not that he wants to really, because you look good doing it, you pull it out with a loud pop. Hearing footsteps behind you, you quickly drop the cork from your mouth into your palm, gracefully hiding it in your fist as you fill the glasses.

The clear liquid has a strong, almost penetrating smell—it’s clearly some sort of spirit, but Bradley idly wonders if it could peel paint.

“Go on, drink.” You push the small glass across the table to him.

“Is it… safe?” Bradley asks, as he sniffs it. Jesus Christ, that could singe his mustache off.

“It’s just a drop of slivovice.” You shrug. “It’ll put some hair on your chest.”

“What, do you think I’m lacking?”

Fuck, you walked right into that one. Screwing your eyes shut, you down your drink in one go, rather than reply.

***

note | It took me a while between traveling, catching COVID and finishing Wish You Were Here to get back into the swing of things. But I'm back, and I have a lot of material already written~ Hopefully this longer chapter will make up for the hiatus on this story. As always, I'd love to hear what you thought of it.

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

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bluevaractyl · 4 months

Text

Chapter six is up, one more to go! Thanks for all the comments! You guys make writing so much fun :D

Wild rarely felt as alive as when he was fighting for his life.

He whooped and detonated another glowing blue bomb, backflipping out of the blast zone. An Yiga teleported behind him and took a swipe, but he easily dodged to the side. He focused. Time seemed to slow. He drew his sword and swung in a blow that he knew would knock the demon carver from their grip. He got in a few more slashes before time resumed its natural flow. The demon carver spun away and the Yiga grunted in surprised pain. They brought their hands together and disappeared in flash of red.

The fight was chaos. When the Sailor had finally called for their distraction, Wild had paraglided right up to the front entrance. In the dark, the Yiga guards hadn’t seen him until he was close enough to touch. They had whistled for backup and moved to grab him, and Time and Twilight had slipped inside to go help the others. Now Warriors and Wild were occupying around eighteen Yiga who were very determined to kill him. It felt a lot like he had poked a beehive.

Wild had to admit, this might have been too many for him to handle on his own. When he had snuck into the Yiga hideout in his own era, he had relied heavily on stealth. He’d mostly avoided having to fight more than three at a time. Here, keeping their attention on him was kind of the whole goal. He could hardly see his enemy. If not for the Captain’s help, he probably wouldn’t have been able to avoid capture for this long.

A few spear lengths away, Warriors dropped into a powerful spin attack, sending the unfortunate footsoldiers within range fleeing with bleeding wounds. The expression of barely controlled rage on his face almost made Wild pause. Something to ask about later, maybe.

There was a whistling noise directly behind Wild. His back lit up with pain as he was flung forward, smashing face-first into the ground. He groaned and tried pushing himself up, but the attempt sent agony coursing through him.

“Wild! Champion, get up!” called Warriors. Wild tried to comply, arms trembling. Something warm and wet ran down his back. Heavy footsteps approached. His sword—where was his sword—

There was a familiar yell, and the sound of a windcleaver came again. Wild tensed, bracing himself.

The windcleaver’s strike blew past him. Someone shouted. The acrid smell of smoke and the fluttering of paper told Wild the Yiga had teleported away. The island was finally quiet.

“Wild, you okay?” asked Twilight’s voice above him. Wild tried to turn over to look, but quickly gave up, shuddering.

“Hey, hey, let me see,” Twilight said, sounding much closer. Cool air stung Wild’s bare skin as the Rancher examined the tear in his tunic. “Yikes, looks like he gotcha pretty good. This will need a potion. Do you got one?”

Wild tried to remember if he had any hearty elixirs left. “I think so…” he mumbled.

Twilight lit his lantern and started digging in Wild’s bag. After a moment, he said, “Found one.” He carefully helped Wild sit up to drink. Every small twitch of the muscles in Wild’s back made fire skitter down his spine. He let air hiss through his teeth, trying not to scream. Twilight uncorked the elixir and held it out, and he downed it in a few gulps. A prickling sensation crept through the torn flesh as it healed. The fire cooled, and Wild sagged in relief.

“Thanks, Twi,” he murmured. Suddenly, he remembered what Twilight’s presence meant. “Wait—is Sky—did you—"

“Yeah, we got him. Just in time, but he’ll be okay.”

There was a subtle edge to the Rancher’s voice that made Wild straighten. He looked around, wincing at the pull on still-tender skin.

All the Yiga had fled, apparently giving up on Wild when it became clear they’d have to fight eight people for him. Red paper scraps and abandoned weapons littered the scorched earth. Warriors was staring in bewilderment at the piles of bananas and rupees the Yiga had left behind after their defeat. Four was examining a demon carver with an expression somewhere between avid curiosity and abject disgust, with Legend peering over his shoulder. Time, Hyrule, and Wind were huddled by the lit entrance to the House of Gales, gathered around Sky, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Wild staggered to his feet. Twilight sheathed a long, curved sword and stood with him.

Wild stared in surprise, suddenly remembered hearing the second windcleaver. “When did you get that?”

Twilight looked a little sheepish as he answered, “The ambush in the woods. That Yiga guy left it sticking in the dirt. I figured it could be useful, so I grabbed it. You’re always collecting monster weapons, why’s it so weird when I do it?” He crossed his arms a little defensively.

Wild grinned. “Ha, that guy couldn’t get it out of the ground but it’s a piece of cake to you, huh?”

Twilight looked embarrassed now. “Just gotta use the right angle, y’know?”

Wild shook his head, amused. They started walking over to join the group huddle.

Up close, Sky looked terrible. His wrists were rubbed raw, and the left one looked swollen and discolored. Deep bruising ringed his neck. Another bruise on his forehead showed where he had hit something, or been hit. His breathing was audible, a rasping wheeze that hurt to hear. His lips and fingertips were tinged blue.

Fury boiled in Wild’s gut. How dare those cowards treat his friend—his brother—! Wild swallowed down the desire to hurt. Sky didn’t need that right now. He tuned back in to the conversation.

Wind was telling Time, “—and then I smacked him in the face with my hammer!” He mimed swinging the hammer and winced, pressing a hand to his hip.

Time caught the motion and said firmly, “Let us see that, Sailor.” Wind reluctantly took his hand away, revealing a gash in the fabric of the stealth armor. Blood soaked the fabric, unnoticed against the dark blue. Time frowned and asked, “Did you get this from the Shadow?"

They all froze. The Shadow was here? What happened in there? wondered Wild.

Wind shrank into himself and nodded. Warriors, who had been coming over to join them, barked, “Traveler, heal him first.”

Hyrule looked up, surprised. Understanding flitted across his face, and he crouched by Wind and pressed glowing hands over the oozing wound below the Sailor’s hip.

“Hey, wait! Sky needs it more, why—?” protested Wind.

Time shook his head and said, “Remember the Rancher’s wound?” Wind clammed up at that and meekly submitted to the treatment.

After a moment, Hyrule’s shoulders relaxed, and he said, “It’s working. I think you’ll be fine with a potion, Sailor.” He took his hands away. Wild could see the gash had been sealed into an angry red line. Twilight moved over to offer Wind a damp rag to clean away the blood with. He started pulling bandages from his bag. Four and Legend took his place in the circle of heroes.

Hyrule turned back to Sky. He made as if to place his hands on the Chosen Hero’s neck, but hesitated. “Hey, Sky? Sky, are you awake?” he called softly. When Sky didn’t answer, Hyrule touched his shoulder.

The next second, the Traveler recoiled, clutching his nose. The Veteran tugged him back.

Sky looked from Link to Link, eyes wide and bloodshot and without a hint of recognition. His hands were curled into fists. His breathing was fast and shallow. Acting on instinct, Wild waved the others back and lowered himself to kneel in front of Sky, just out of swinging range.

“Hey, Link,” Wild said evenly, trying to keep his tangled emotions out of his voice. Sky’s eyes were fixed on his, and some of the terror seemed to have faded. He blinked slowly.

“You’re safe now, see? It’s just us. Your brothers.” Wild swallowed and added, “I know you’re probably hurting, and scared, but it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, Sky.”

Sky slowly relaxed. He let out a breath and slumped back against the stone behind him, eyes closed again. He looked exhausted.

“Are you with us now?” asked Warriors. Sky raised one fist and nodded it. He let it drop into his lap, cradling his left wrist.

The Traveler approached again. Blood decorated his face, but he must have already healed his nose, since it wasn’t gushing anymore. “Is it alright if I heal you now, Sky?” he asked cautiously. Sky didn’t respond at first. After a couple more long, hitching breaths, he raised his fist to nod again.

Hyrule moved in close. Sky’s eyes slid open to watch as he gingerly laid one hand on the side of the Chosen Hero’s neck. The glow of his Life spell made the shadows of the bruising stark. A cut-off sound of discomfort escaped Sky.

Wild took Sky’s right hand in his and squeezed once. Sky gripped back hard enough to hurt. Hyrule started on the other side of his neck, and he shuddered in pain or discomfort.

Finally, Hyrule stepped back. He swayed dizzily and almost tipped over. Warriors caught his shoulder and helped him sit down, where he blinked sleepily.

“Sorry, I think—” Hyrule interrupted himself with a yawn. “I think that’s all I have left.” He gazed at Sky’s lingering bruises with defeat.

“’t’s fine,” croaked Sky. He managed a tight smile. Hyrule seemed suitably reassured, and promptly flopped over, dead asleep.

Warriors cleared his throat. “Do you think you can drink a potion now, Sky?” he said quietly.

Sky released Wild’s hand and tilted his own in an uncertain gesture. Then he motioned, “Give.”

Warriors pulled a red potion from his bag, removed the cork, and handed it to Sky. Sky raised it to his lips. His hand shook, spilling some down his shirt. After a few sips he pulled it away, hacking and coughing. Warriors grabbed the potion before he could drop it.

Sky eventually sagged back, somehow looking more tired than before. He tentatively flexed his left hand. Apparently satisfied, he closed his eyes and hummed almost soundlessly.

Time looked up at the rising full moon and said, “We should bed down for the night. Today has been a long day, and we could all use the rest.”

Glancing at Hyrule and Sky, Warriors observed, “Swimming off this island is probably too much to ask of these two. How about we shelter in the first room? I’ll take first watch, in case those traitors try anything.” Time nodded.

Legend flipped over the tiles near the entrance and pressed the switch to raise the portcullis. Warriors gathered Hyrule into his arms and carried him inside. Time and Twilight helped Sky to his feet and supported him as they all followed.

The first room in the House of Gales was spacious and empty, lit by dim sconces. The fans on either side of the room were dormant. Legend checked that the raised level at the back of the room was empty, then gave them the all-clear.

They laid out their bedrolls in a loose circle. Hyrule hadn’t woken at all, so Warriors tucked him into his and let him be. Legend left a green potion by his pillow with a fond, exasperated look, and downed half of one himself. Sky sat down on his bedroll but refused to lay down. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he could fall asleep at any moment.

A campfire wasn’t a good idea indoors, especially not when Sky was already having a hard time breathing, so instead, Wild pulled out a flameblade and flamespear and placed them in the center of the circle, where they gave off a comforting warmth and light. He passed around energizing meat skewers. When he got to Sky, he frowned. Hyrule’s spell had helped, but Sky was clearly still having a hard time swallowing.

A tug on his sleeve made him turn to see Wind holding a bottle of thick yellow liquid. “Do you think he could drink this? It’s my grandma’s soup,” explained the Sailor as quietly as he could. “It’s got healing properties.”

Wild smiled gratefully. “I think that would be perfect, Sailor. Let’s warm it up for him.” He took the bottle and tucked it close to the flameblade.

Wild scarfed his own skewers, then checked the soup bottle. Deciding it was warm enough, he gave it a shake and handed it back to Wind. “Here, you give it to him. He, uh, might need help opening it. He’s still looking pretty out of it.” They both glanced at where Sky sat, blinking tiredly at nothing in particular.

Wind took the soup and went over to Sky. Wild started preparing for bed, but watched from his periphery as Sky drank the soup. When half was gone, he stopped and gave it back to Wind, then finally, finally laid down. Wild could hear his whistling snores from his own bedroll across the room.

“Good work, Sailor,” Time murmured, watching Sky as well. Wild caught Wind’s eye and gave him two thumbs up. Wind beamed.

Sky will be okay. We'll make sure of it.

#let me know if there are any parts that are unclear!#I know I imply a lot of what happens without actually explaining #because my POV character only sees so much #I have like 2 sentences left in the final chapter and they are fighting me #linked universe #blue writes #blood tw

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

A Ghost From the Past (Part One)

Whumptober 2022: 8. Back from the Dead, 26. “Why did you save me?” Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader Word Count: 3337 TW: Angst, Whump, Injuries, Past Death, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Language

Part One, Part Two

As Rooster heads out to the tarmac for another day of training, he suddenly hears shouts of disbelief and calls for help. Picking up his pace, he reaches the door to the hanger just when Phoenix steps in front of him, blocking his path. Her face is drained of all color, and her breathing is ragged as she opens and closes her mouth, trying to find the words to speak.

Rooster gently places his hands on her shoulders, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Phoenix takes a deep breath before saying, “You need to stay here. Something’s happened but no one knows how and until they do, you need to stay out of the way.”

“Nat, what’s wrong? What happened?” Rooster repeats. Nothing ever shook Phoenix; she was one of the calmest, most adaptable pilots he knew. If she was this rattled, it must be something big.

Biting her lip nervously, Phoenix says, “I know it sounds impossible and if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. But someone just appeared on the tarmac.”

“What do you mean appeared? Like an unauthorized plane-”

“No,” Phoenix cuts him off. “I mean, one minute the tarmac was clear and the next she was lying in a heap on the ground. She just…. appeared.”

Rooster feels his blood run cold as he works up the courage to ask his next question. Because somehow, he knows. As impossible as it is, he already knows. “Who? Who appeared?”

With tears in her eyes, Phoenix whispers, “It’s Echo.”

Rooster stands with his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at your sleeping form through the window of your examination room. You’re fast asleep, one leg thrown across the other as you lay on your side, your right arm curled under your pillow as your left arm reaches out in front of you. Towards the side of the bed Rooster usually laid.

He hears Phoenix approaching, but his eyes never leave you. Before she can say anything, Rooster bluntly states, “It’s not her. It can’t be her.”

Phoenix sighs. “I know. Yet based on all the tests they’ve run, it is her. Same blood type, same fingerprints, same retinal scan. From what they can tell, that is Echo.”

“It can’t be! She’s dead!” Rooster hisses as he jabs his finger at your sleeping body. “Two years ago, I held her in my arms as she struggled to take her final breath! Whoever that is, whatever that is, it can’t be her!”

Placing her hand gently on his shoulder, Phoenix says, “I remember. But I don’t know what else to say. It’s her, Rooster. I talked to her, and it was just like talking to Echo. She knows things that only Echo would know. However she got here, that woman in there is the one we lost. Believe me, I can’t begin to comprehend how this happened, but it did. And if that’s the case…. Maybe you got a second chance.”

“Fuck you!” Rooster rips his arm away from Phoenix’s grasp. “What? You really expect me to just accept this? To say screw how it happened and just buy into the idea that she’s back? This isn’t like she just disappeared or went MIA. We had a funeral. Her ashes are still in an urn at her mother’s house. I spent every day of the last two years forcing myself to leave her in the past and now, she’s just somehow back in the present? How am I supposed to buy that?”

“Listen, I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now. She was my friend, and this is overwhelming. But for you….” Phoenix sighs. “She’s been asking to see you….. a lot. You’ve been cleared to talk to her but only if you feel up to it. No one expects you to do anything, but I think it would help if you spoke to her. Maybe it’ll convince you that this is what it seems. A miracle.”

She gives him a small smile before leaving him alone to think. Rooster stares at you once more. It doesn’t make any sense. It seems like something out of the fucking Twilight Zone. And yet… if there was a chance — even a fraction of a percent of a chance — that it was true and the woman asleep on that bed was you, how could he walk away without finding out the truth?

Rooster quietly eases into the room, hoping to examine you closer before you wake up. Phoenix was right. You look exactly like the woman he said goodbye to two years ago. Every single detail was the same, down to the way you murmured softly in your sleep or the small scar on your finger from where you cut it while making him a surprise dinner for his birthday. He knows every inch of your body as well as he knowa his own, and everything is exactly as it should be, but he still can’t believe it is really you.

Standing with his back against the wall across from the bed, he clears his throat. Slowly, your eyes flicker open and you roll over to see what woke you. The second your eyes meet his, both of you freeze. Your eyes…. There is no doubt that they’re your eyes; the ones that captivated him the night you met, the ones he stared deeply into as you made love, the ones he watched the light fade from as he held you–

Rooster’s eyes dart to the floor, unable to hold your gaze. Yet he hears you exclaim in breathy relief, “Rooster, thank God! I was getting so worried.”

You start to climb off the bed but he stiffens and shakes his head. Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he sees you slowly lower yourself back down as your lip begins to tremble. “No, Roo…. Not you too. What’s going on? Why is everyone treating me like I have the fucking plague o-or I’ve grown a second head! A few hours ago, we were making out in front of the locker rooms, while Bagman and Phoenix teased us, and now…. You can’t even look at me!”

Rooster takes a deep breath and meets your gaze once again. Keeping his voice as steady and unemotional as possible, he says, “I need you to tell me what happened. How did you get here?”

“Wh-what do you mean ‘how did I get here’? I never left!” you cry out desperately. “I was on the tarmac heading to my plane for our next exercise when all of a sudden, I felt really dizzy and I guess I collapsed. The next thing I knew, I’m waking up on the ground and people were yelling and giving me these crazy looks. Then they rushed me in here and started doing all sorts of tests on me. But I told them I’m fine! It was probably just heat stroke or nerves or some shit. Now no one will tell me what’s going on or why they won’t let me leave this room. Why I couldn’t see you until now.”

Suddenly, you pause. Scooting to the end of the bed and leaning in closer, you say, “Roo, what happened? When did you get these scars?” You reach out to touch his face but Rooster jerks away just before your fingers brush his skin.

You collapse back onto the bed once more. “Okay, what the fuck is going on? You seem too repulsed to even let me touch you, yet hours ago you…” The first tears begin to stream down your face and you cry, “I don’t know what’s happening! Everything’s slightly off and no one will tell me why. Like, those scars are old– old enough to have plenty of time to heal. Yet, they weren’t there this morning. And this is the same Top Gun from before but I don’t recognize half the staff or officers. Did I hit my head when I passed out on the tarmac? Did I lose time or am I forgetting things or-or….. I don’t know. But Roo, I’m scared, and I need you right now, so please… just, whatever it is, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

It takes everything in him for Rooster not to give in, crawl onto the bed, and gather you into his arms. There was nothing he hated more in the world than seeing you cry, yet he still can’t buy into the idea that this was really you. If he allowed himself to believe that and it turned out this was all a lie or a trick…. He wouldn’t survive that.

So, he remains with his back pressed firmly against the wall as he says, “We don’t know what happened or what’s going on. We don’t even know for sure who or what you are.”

You look as if he had just slapped you. “What I am? Rooster, what the hell does that mean?”

“The Top Gun cadet known as Echo died two years ago during a training exercise.” Your eyes grow wide and you shake your head but Rooster continues. “One of the fuel lines in her plane was damaged and her plane crashed.”

“Tha-that’s not possible,” you whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Rooster’s jaw tightens. “I was the first one to the wreckage. She wasn’t able to eject so I had to pull her out of what was left of her plane just for her to die in my arms minutes later. So don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“But it can’t be… I’m Echo. Just ask me anything. Something about my childhood? How I got the callsign Echo? The day we meet at the Naval Academy? Our first kiss? The first time you told me you loved me? I can tell you anything you want to know. Do you want to search my body for something out of place? Examine every last inch of me? It’s not anything you haven’t seen hundreds of times before. If what you are saying is true, I don’t know how it happened or how it’s even possible. But I do know who I am. I’m the same girl you fell in love with years ago. Who has loved you back for just as long. Who’s begging you to believe me now. I’m Echo.”

Rooster stares at you long and hard for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it can’t be true. You are not my Echo.” Pushing himself off the wall, he walks towards the door.

But just as he wraps his hand around the door handle, your voice calls out from behind him. “Do you remember our conversation right before we walked out onto the tarmac? Because I do. For me, it only happened a few hours ago, so I remember every word.”

Without turning around, Rooster says, “Don’t.”

“You pulled me aside and reminded me that you loved me and as soon as Top Gun was over, you wanted us to start looking for rings.”

“Stop it!”

“And I said that was the stupidest proposal I had ever heard, but nothing would make me happier. Then you kissed me-“

“I said stop!”

“- and told me you would spend the rest of our lives making up for it…. Starting with that night.”

“That’s enough!” Rooster roars as he whirls around to face you, though you didn’t as much as flinch. Your eyes stare unblinkingly into his even as he towers over you, glaring and panting heavily.

Softly, you whisper, “I guess we never got that night, did we?”

He stares at you for another minute before backing out of the room. Rooster never takes his eyes from your heartbroken face until he is out the door and it closes, giving him a barrier between you. Only then does he allow himself to collapse against the wall, breathing heavily as he tries to process what you just said.

Rooster had never told anyone about the conversation he had with you just before he watched you climb into your plane for the last time. He had kept that moment, that promise buried deep down inside himself for the past two years, along with the dreams for the future that went with it. You had agreed to be his wife and when he watched you take your last breath, he hadn’t lost his girlfriend but his fiance. And no one knew. No one except you.

The next week is a whirlwind of activity. Not only is the team busy preparing for their upcoming mission, but they are also preoccupied with the mystery surrounding you. Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote had all been with you and Rooster at Top Gun when you died. Hangman had even been the one to find Rooster cradling your dead body next to the wreckage of your plane. They all quickly buy into the story that the woman who appeared on the tarmac was the same one they had lost two years ago, but Rooster still refuses to accept it.

After a few days, the Navy reluctantly agrees to allow you back into a plane. After all, you had been the best of the best, practically guaranteed the top spot in your graduating class before your death. And with the mission coming up, they need someone with your talents. Seeing you in the sky erases any lingering doubt in people’s minds that this wasn’t the same Echo as before. The precision and skill are impeccable, with a flair only you can possess. Yet still, Rooster refuses to believe.

So far, he has done his best to avoid you, but your paths have crossed more than a few times over the last week. At first, you try talking to him or get him to believe your story. But after a few days of him ignoring you, you gave up. Yet, seeing you interact with Phoenix, Hangman, and Coyote, laughing and joking as if nothing had ever happened, it is agony for Rooster. But it did make his resolve slip just a little. Could it be true? He still didn’t believe it was really you but what if….?

There is a long discussion on if you should be allowed on the mission or not. After all, you are still legally dead and are no longer active in the military. However, as you point out, that is why you are perfect for the mission: if you don’t make it back, then it’s like nothing changes. So, you are chosen to fly cover behind Dagger 1 – 4, to Rooster’s dismay. He is already nervous enough about this mission and having you along just makes it worse.

However, the mission is completed perfectly. The squad manages to destroy the target just as instructed and they make it out of the valley safely. But the real trouble starts as soon as they fly out of Coffin Corner and into the path of the SAMs. Soon the sky is full of missiles and everyone is desperately trying to stay out of their way.

Rooster shoots off round after round of flares until he presses the button and nothing happens. “Shit! I’m out of flares!” He tries a barrel roll and a few other evasive tactics but nothing is slowing the missiles on his tail. “I can’t shake ‘em, they’re on me!”

Suddenly, his coms come to life. “It’s okay, Roo. I’ll give them another target.”

Panic seizes his heart as he cries desperately, “What? No, Echo, don’t!”

But your reply is oddly calm and resigned. “It’s okay, Rooster. After all….I’m already dead.”

Before he can say anything else, he watches in horror as your plane explodes in a ball of flames. “NO!”

But then Rooster notices a parachute open far below him. You got out this time! And as he turns his plane around, he swears to himself that he’s not going to lose you again.

Mav and the other Daggers all scream at him to continue on and head back to the ship, but he just turns the coms off. He doesn’t care what this will mean for him or his career. Right now, there is only one thing on his mind.

As soon as Rooster touches down, he is tearing through the woods screaming your name. He doesn’t think about the enemies in the area. All he cares about is finding you before it’s too late.

“Echo! Echo, where are you?” There is no response. Just the still quiet of the snowy forest. He screams again, “Goddamn it, Echo! Please! Answer me!”

“Rooster….” The sound is weak and pained, but it’s yours.

Scrambling towards the direction of your voice, he finally spots you propped against a tree with one hand pressed to your stomach. He is by your side in seconds, carefully removing your helmet and holding your face in his hand. “Are you okay? Why the hell did you do that? After everything I put you through for this last week, you still risked your life to save mine. Why?”

“Because I love you, you idiot. I always have.” You smile at him but it quickly turns into a grimace of pain.

“Here, let me see.” Rooster begins unzipping your flight suit and lifting up the shirt you are wearing underneath to examine the area under your hand.

You groan softly as he jostles you. “I don’t think there’s anything to see. A piece of debris hit me on the way down. I’m sure it’s just a bruise but it hurts like a motherfucker.”

Examining it, he can see you’re right. There might be some internal bleeding that he can’t detect, but there is nothing else he can do at the moment.

As he finishes rezipping your flight suit, you grab his wrist. With tears forming in the corner of your eyes, you say, “This is the first time you’ve touched me since I came back.”

Rooster nods, turning his hand so he can thread his fingers with yours. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was so afraid if I touched you, you’d disappear again.”

“I told you, Roo. It’s me. I swear. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He reaches down and cups your face in his hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your cheek. “I know it is, and I’m sorry I refused to see it before. I was so afraid of being hurt that I pushed you away. And because of that, I almost lost you for a second time. But never again. I swear.”

Bending over, he presses his lips against yours, and any last doubts he has about who you are fly from his head. Your lips mold perfectly against his just like always, and the kiss tastes undeniably like you. He tries to deepen the embrace, pulling you in closer, but the soft groan in your throat makes him pause.

Reluctantly, he pulls away. “I’m sorry. I hope that didn’t hurt you.”

You smile at him. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you again since the moment you walked into my examination room a week ago. A little pain was worth it.”

He smiles back and places a soft kiss on the top of your head. Then he settles down next to you and gently eases you onto his lap so you aren’t sitting on the cold snow anymore. You rest your head against his chest as his arms envelop you, and he whispers into your ear, “I love you, Echo.”

He can hear the joy in your voice as you respond, “I love you too, Roo.”

Hangman finds you an hour later. The scene he stumbles onto is eerily similar to the one he witnessed two years ago with Rooster holding your limp body in his arms. But this time Rooster’s face isn’t streaked with tears and shattered into pieces. No, this time, he looks up at Hangman in relief and nods with a broad smile across his face. This time, you are still alive and this isn’t goodbye.

Part 2 out now!

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

A Ghost From the Past (Part One)

Part One, Part Two

Rooster gently places his hands on her shoulders, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Phoenix takes a deep breath before saying, “You need to stay here. Something’s happened but no one knows how and until they do, you need to stay out of the way.”

“Nat, what’s wrong? What happened?” Rooster repeats. Nothing ever shook Phoenix; she was one of the calmest, most adaptable pilots he knew. If she was this rattled, it must be something big.

Biting her lip nervously, Phoenix says, “I know it sounds impossible and if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. But someone just appeared on the tarmac.”

“What do you mean appeared? Like an unauthorized plane-”

“No,” Phoenix cuts him off. “I mean, one minute the tarmac was clear and the next she was lying in a heap on the ground. She just…. appeared.”

Rooster feels his blood run cold as he works up the courage to ask his next question. Because somehow, he knows. As impossible as it is, he already knows. “Who? Who appeared?”

With tears in her eyes, Phoenix whispers, “It’s Echo.”