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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months

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Seat Belts Save Lives

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You and your brothers get into a car accident, and Dean blames himself.

“Would you put your seatbelt on?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s demand and ignored him.

“You know that’s not safe.”

“Eh, leave her be Sammy,” Dean cut in. “We’ve got a long drive, if she wants to lay out back there let her. She should get some sleep anyway.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at Sam as you made yourself comfortable in the back.

“Whatever,” Sam grumbled, reaching for the radio.

“Excuse me?” Dean scoffed as he slapped Sam’s hand away. “You don’t get to change my station, you know the rules, Sammy.”

“They’ve played the same song four times in a row, Dean. I figured you didn’t notice, so I’d give you a hand.”

“I noticed,” Dean said defensively. “I like this song.”

“So did I,” Sam huffed. “But that was before—Dean, watch out! Hey—“

Sam reached over to jerk the steering wheel, but it was too late. The car that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere—on the wrong side of the road—slammed into the side of the Impala. You felt your body leave the seat, your head slamming into the back of Dean’s seat.

And then it all went black.

You awoke to the sound of Dean calling your name. Your head felt heavy, your ears were ringing, and the world seemed fuzzy for a few minutes before your head cleared. Once it did, you wished it didn’t.

Your head was pounding, and slick, sticky red was oozing out of a cut on your leg and your head. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when you craned your neck painfully you saw why. Along with the bleeding cuts, your wrist was twisted at a strange angle, and the Impala’s door was dented in, pinning you down so that you couldn’t even feel your legs, much less move them.

“Y/N.” You could hear the sigh of relief in Sam’s voice, coming from near your head. “Dean, her eyes are open.”

“Ok baby.” Dean’s voice came from down by your feet, on the right side of the car. “I’m gonna lift the door up, and Sammy’s gonna pull you out. I need you to brace yourself, this is gonna hurt.”

“Ok,” you whimpered, your hands beginning to shake.

“Alright, I’ve got her,” Sam told Dean, grabbing hold of you under your arms and preparing to pull you out.

“Alright. One…two…” Dean grunted at three as he lifted the door. The change in pressure sent pain shooting up your legs, and you screamed as Sam pulled you free of the car.

“I know, I know honey.” Sam collapsed in the dirt next to the Impala, hugging you to his chest as you cried. “It’s over.”

The pain refused to subside, and within seconds you gave into the dark that overtook your vision.

…

“She’s unconscious,” Sam said as Dean knelt next to his two younger siblings.

“The ambulance is on the way.”

“Dean, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“She’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “She’s gonna be just fine.”

…

“Is she ok? What’s going on in there?”

“She’s still unconscious,” the nurse told Sam. “We’ve finished stitching her wounds, and we’re prepping for a blood transfusion, but her blood type is hard to find.”

“Me, use me,” Dean spoke up. “We have the same type.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood, too,” The nurse responded. “We can’t risk—“

“I don’t care about the risk!” Dean barked. “Use my blood!”

“I—um…” the nurse seemed unsure how to respond. “Let me talk to the doctor.”

As soon as she was gone, Sam turned to his big brother. “Dean, you shouldn’t—“

“I have to. She could die, do you get that? I have to do this.”

“They can find someone else, I’m sure—“

“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean sighed.

Sam was angry. “Don’t get it? What could I possibly not get about this, Dean?”

Dean was silent for a long moment before he spoke.

“I told her not to wear her seat belt.”

…

You awoke to an annoying beeping to your right, and a sharp antiseptic smell hanging in the air. You blinked your eyes open, trying to adjust to the too-bright lights. Once you had, you caught sight of Sam sleeping in a chair to your right. You turned to the other side to see Dean sitting at an uncomfortable angle in an even more uncomfortable chair, his head drooping and your hand clutched in his.

When you squeezed his hand, his head popped up.

“Hey baby,” he breathed, a grin splitting his face. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts.” You were used to ‘sucking it up’ as Sam and Dean did, saying you were fine as long as nothing was broken. But you didn’t have the energy to lie right now; it hurt, and all you wanted was your big brother to baby you and make it feel better.

“I’m sorry.” Dean reached up his free hand and brushed your hair away from your face. “Baby I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “That guy came out of nowhere.”

Dean was about to respond, but stopped when Sam started to stir.

“Hey,” Sam grinned when he saw you awake. “You ok?”

“Been better.” You smiled weakly.

“The doc said you two can leave tomorrow,” Sam said.

“The two of us?” Your eyes turned back to Dean. “You’re hurt?”

“He didn’t get hurt that bad in the crash,” Sam interjected before Dean could speak. “But he lost some blood, and then he gave you some. Docs say he needs bed rest.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Dean scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“You gave blood after getting injured? Dean, are you nuts?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got rare blood.” Dean tried to deflect with a joking smile.

“Dean.” You remained serious.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “You needed blood, I gave you some blood, it’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t just—“

“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” Dean insisted. “We’re all ok. That’s all that matters. Now get some rest, ok?”

You said nothing, and Dean’s words made you finally realize just how tired you felt.

Sam leaned over and kissed your head before leaning back in his chair, but Dean stayed right next to you, your hand gripped in his. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into sleep, but just before you gave in to your exhaustion, you heard Dean whisper to you—

“I’m sorry. I’m never gonna let anything like this happen again.”

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@nyotamalfoy

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wildemaven · 7 months

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bloom : two | joel miller

-> pairing: joel miller x florist f!reader

-> wc: 4024

-> content warning: lots if fluff and mutual pining, ellie being ellie (terrifying at times), talks of divorce and failed relationships, mention of food, reader is a single mom (adoption) and has zero physical descriptions

-> a/n: excited to share this! everyone is meeting and things are happening. big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for being a gem and listening to me stress over this and reading through this and correcting all my mistakes— she’s truly the best!

one / series masterlist / playlist

Sarah keeps asking questions.

She always has, ever since the day she could form coherent sentences. Always wanting to know more, seeking out more information to feel informed and ready for her next move.

So it comes as no surprise that she’s asked him the same question about five different times in the span of 24 hours.

“So, where are we going again?” Sarah’s question floats through the cab in between munching on the tart green grapes she brought along to snack on.

“That flower shop. That one you always comment on when we drive by— Wilder Floral. I got your flowers from them.” Joel glances over to where Sarah is sitting in the passenger seat.

“Hmm. Oh yes, the place you haven’t been able to stop raving about for the last week. Remind me why we are getting flowers?” Popping another grape into her mouth.

“For Nana. Why you askin’ so many questions? I already told ya all of this.”

“Just tryin’ to get a better understanding as to why we’re goin’ to buy Nana flowers. Her birthday isn’t for another 6 months, and there’s no occasion that would require flowers that I know of.”

“Why you goin’ so hard in your ole man? Can’t I buy my mom flowers, just because.”

“Never said you couldn’t. Just askin’ that’s all.” Her exposed hands in front of her show no ill intent was intended.

“Alright, ‘nough interrogating me. We’re here— hey, let’s keep all this talk about me not shuttin’ up about this place here in the truck, ‘kay?” Joel says as he pulls his truck up alongside the curb in front of the floral shop.

“Sure, Dad.” She says before hopping out onto the sidewalk and closing the door behind her.

The bell rings as he pushes the door open, allowing Sarah to walk in, following right behind her. The shop hasn’t changed much in a week's time. There’s new arrangements in the case, some similar to ones he looked over last week, some different. There’s buckets of flowers of all shapes and shades lining the ground near the workbench— trimmings scattered across the top must mean they’re being prepped for use in new arrangements.

Joel continues to scan the space, in hopes to land on a familiar face who has overwhelmed his every thought for the better part of the last week.

“Look what the cat dragged back in.” A voice pulls his attention to the side of the entrance, a spot he hadn’t looked over yet.

“Ellie. It’s good to see you too.” Joel gruffs, shoving his hands in his pockets, wanting to feel less exposed to her cynicism.

“Couldn’t stay away long, could ya?” Ellie snarks, leaning into the broom handle she has in her grip.

“Um, guess not. This is Sarah, my daughter I was tellin’ ya bout last week.” Joel gestures to where Sarah is standing next to him.

“Hey, aren’t you the girl that plays guitar at school?” Sarah asks, thinking she knew she had recognized Ellie from somewhere, then placed her as the girl who sits on the brick wall at lunch with her acoustic guitar, singing an array of classic ballads.

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t think anyone ever really paid attention though.” Ellie seems to have shrunk down a little, a twinge of self consciousness washing over her.

“I thought you looked familiar! Dad, this is the girl I was telling you about the other week, the girl who was singing The Sun Always Shines on T.V.” Sarah reminds Joel. “My dad has been singing that song to me since I was a baby.”

“No shit?” Ellie looks at Joel briefly, studying him, as if trying to imagine how he’d look and sound.

“Yeah, you’re really good. I always stop and listen when you play.”

Joel watches how Ellie absorbs the information, the slight grin that she tries to hide as she looks at the pile of dust and flower clippings she had been sweeping before they had walked in.

“Thanks.” Ellie huffs out, the compliment unexpected since no one at school ever seems to notice her playing, she doesn’t mind, but she’s grateful there’s at least one person enjoying when she does.

“Small world. Anyway, we were in the neighborhood and wanted to get some flowers and thought we’d stop in to get some for her Nana.” Joel breaks the silence, pulling Sarah in front of him, his hands on her shoulders to keep a barrier between him and Ellie’s sharp words. Sarah gives her a meek smile and wave.

“Makes sense, seeing as how we’re a flower shop.” A burst of air snaps from the gum Ellie is gnawing at, her sarcasm fully intact and back in action, her brows shooting up at the obvious reasoning for Joel and Sarah’s visit for flowers.

“Is your mom around by chance?” He asks, peeking in the direction of the doorway that leads to the back room.

His hold on Sarah’s shoulders tightens slightly when she tries to wiggle herself away from his grip, hoping she could free herself from the awkwardness that’s started to simmer.

“Well, seeing as how she owns the place, what do you think old man?” And she’s back, Ellie’s brutal response has Joel speechless. Sarah ducks her head to hide her snickering at her dad being called an ‘old man.’

“Ellie!” Your voice booms through the shop, catching the tailend of what Ellie had said to Joel.

Joel turns to see you frozen in place. You look mortified by Ellie’s bluntness, your grip tight around the buckle of florals you have in your arms.

“What?” Ellie rolls her eyes as she looks over to you.

“Knock it off! Don’t be rude— especially to the customers.” You say as you make your way to your workbench, your calculated steps indicating the contents of the bucket are heavier than they look.

“But it’s not just any customer, it’s Mister I’m sliding into third base Joel.” Ellie snarks, looking at Joel with the biggest shit-eating grin he’s ever seen. “Besides, I’m just kidding! Geez— no need to get your undies twisted.”

Sarah pretends to take in the store, avoiding the back and forth taking place around her, biting back the laughter that’s been building in her chest.

Joel takes this as his cue to leave Sarah with Ellie, deciding she’s far less likely to be hit with a barrage of sarcastic remarks based on how well Ellie took her compliment about her singing and guitar playing.

“Here let me help you with that.” Joel says as he jogs over towards you, his arms reaching out for the bucket ready to take on the load himself.

“Oh! You don’t have to do that—“ You start to tell him, but he’s already grabbing the bucket from you, placing it alongside the other ones you already carried out prior to their arrival. “Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it.” The way you’re looking at him has his heart rate ticking up a few beats, feeling fidgety as he tightens his hands into a fist then releases, trying to release the nervous energy that is flowing through him. “How’s the finger doin’? No other injuries I hope.”

“No other injuries and the finger healed up nicely. Thanks to a wonderful stranger coming to my rescue.” You hold up the finger in question. No bandage. No sign of where the rose thorn had embedded itself into your skin. “It was probably the kiss— you know, that made it better and all.”

Joel reaches out, his hand wrapping gently around your wrist, needing to inspect the injury site for himself. He places your hand in his, his thumb tracking up your exposed palm and the length of your finger, smoothing over the area he had the privilege to be up close and personal with a week ago. He likes the way your skin feels under his touch, silk like and warm, even with how much you work with them. He has to rein in his fiery thoughts, wanting to know how every inch of you would feel.

“Always does the trick.” His voice teeters on a nice balance of gentle and rough.

Joel looks up from where he’s still holding you. Your eyes already fixed on him, beaming and bright, giving your smile a run for its money. He’s not quite sure what convinces him to do it for a second time, but finds he doesn’t really care either when he places a kiss on the pulse point of your wrist. He lets his lips linger for a moment, catching the brief gasp you let out and the way he can feel your pulse quicken as the milliseconds tick on.

“I-I didn’t think I’d see you so soon. A very welcomed surprise to my busy week.” Your voice soothes something within him, seeping into his heart and filling the cracks he struggled to keep from breaking entirely.

“Sarah and I were in the area and thought we’d stop in again— as promised. Need to get some flowers for Nana— my mom, her grandma.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping in. What’s the occasion?” You ask as Joel gently releases your hand, you pull your clippers from your well worn canvas apron, placing them next to your other tools.

“Uhh, no real reason. Just ‘cause.” But what he really wants to say is ‘Just ‘cause I needed to see you again, and this seemed like the best way to do it.’

He’s not sure what it is, but he felt it the last time he was here too. This blooming effervescent attraction to you. Infatuated by your mere presence in such a short time. He usually runs in the opposite direction when feelings and commitment start to unveil themselves, but something about you has him running straight for the things that scare him the most— wanting to know if you feel it too.

When Joel thinks back on his dating history, post divorce, he can’t remember a time where he actively went out of his way to see someone. It could have been because there hasn’t really been anyone serious since he and Sarah’s mom divorced. There've been a lot of blind dates set up by friends and his brother Tommy, none of them making it to a second date or really establishing themselves as relationships. He’s met a few women that he thought had potential for a future with, one he had even considered proposing to after a year of dating, but it ended when she decided marriage and a kid wasn’t something she saw in her life at that moment. Joel put dating on the back burner, focused on getting his construction company off the ground and Sarah being his main priority as far as he was concerned.

Then Joel walked into your shop last week, and everything he thought he would never have or deserve was gone. And now he finds himself searching for any reason to walk through that front door of your little flower shop, just so he can see the way your face lights up.

“That’s so sweet of you! I’m sure she’ll love Just Cause flowers— everyone always does. I have these new arrangements I just put together if you want to give her one of these??” Pointing to the several arrangements in glass vases that you had been working on all morning. “These protea are my favorite to work with. Their petals are kind of velvety and they’re perfect long after the rest of the arrangement has expired, she can dry them and have them forever. They are kind of cool flowers too, they’re adapted to survive wildfires because their stem contains buds that will produce new growth after fires. And they’re one of the oldest living flowers on the planet, so that makes them double cool.”

Joel studies you as you continue to share random floral facts with him, adjusting and readjusting the arrangement in front of you. Each flower placed with intention, pausing from time to time to take a slight step back, your head tilting to the side as you look over everything as a whole, then back to arranging and rearranging.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to ramble like that.” You say as you look to where Joel is leaning one hip into your workbench, as he hangs on every word you're saying.

“No, don't be sorry. I like it.”

There’s an ease that flows nicely between you. Joel wants to pick your brain, find out what makes you happy, the things that make you sad— all the things in between. He wants to talk to you for hours on end, or not talk at all and just listen— to anything and everything you have to say.

“Like what?”

“Listenin’ to you talk. I like it— a lot actually. And the little facts too. Shows how much you love what you do to learn special details like that. You could be tellin’ me about how mushrooms could start a zombie apocalypse, and I’d find it interesting— terrifying, but interesting.” Joel hopes you can hear that he genuinely means it.

“Well, I won’t tell you how that possibility is more likely to happen than you think based on the research that’s been done over the years.” You both laugh at how ridiculous sounding a mushroom zombie apocalypse would be.

“They seem to be getting along nicely.” Your chin pointing over to where Ellie and Sarah are giggling to themselves at the front part of the shop.

“Sarah’s a pretty easy goin’ kid. Gets along with pretty much everyone she meets, even Ellie it seems.” Joel looks over his shoulder at the girls.

You both share bits about each of them. Their differences, similarities and all the fun little quirks they’ve both had since they were babies.

Joel asks about Ellie’s singing, and you tell him how she taught herself by checking out books at the library to help her master the chords and beginner songs. Joel tells you how he used to play growing up and that he doesn’t play as much as he would like to now, but sometimes Sarah can twist his arm enough to dust off his guitar and strum out a few songs at the end of barbecues or random summer evenings.

He tells you about Sarah’s latest soccer game, how she’s an all-star player and usually helps carry the team to victory throughout the season. You tell him how Ellie had been on the track team briefly, she was a sprinter, but was kicked off the team for punching a runner from another school because she had elbowed Ellie during the 400m race, causing her to trip and lose.

An hour passed before you both don’t realize you’ve been caught up talking about your kids.

“She’s like head over heels in love with your dad. She literally jumps when the front door dings, hoping it’s him again. It’s gross.” Ellie tells Sarah, looking over to where you and Joel are, completely wrapped up in a moment together.

“Hmm. We stopped in to get my Nana flowers.“ Sarah repeats what Joel had told Ellie earlier.

“Your dad mentioned that when you came in.”

“Yeah, well she’s been on vacation for a month and won’t be back for another month. So I don’t think we are here just getting my Nana flowers.” Sarah takes a glance over now to see you and Joel laughing. “I think it’s safe to say my dad is just as head over heels for your mom, too.”

“Well, we’ll get outta your hair. Promised Sarah we’d stop on our way home at The Picnic, get some lunch and ice cream.” Hating that he can’t stay, knowing that he can’t hog all your time— but maybe one day.

“Oh I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve heard so many great things about all their food trucks. Ellie and I will have to check it out sometime. She’s on a Chef Boyardee kick right now, as one would be when they’re a preteen. Would be nice to mix it up for her though.”

If it wasn’t too forward with it only being his second time meeting you, Joel would ask if you and Ellie wanted to join them. He would even chance the gutsiness and ask you out, spend the evening getting to know you better until both your stomachs and hearts were full. Ellie’s words hit him, “she needs to be wined and dined before you even think about kissing her.”

“Nothin’ wrong with some canned ravioli— lived on that shit in college. But yeah, you both would enjoy it. Definitely take her.” He decides gutsiness isn’t winning today, or it’s his fear of being on the receiving end of Ellie’s wrath that has him wanting to do it the right way, just not today.

“I hope Nana loves these. And feels special getting just ‘cause flowers.” You hand Joel the ceramic container filled with different shades of pinks and greens in varying heights, shapes and textures.

“I’m sure she’ll love ‘em no doubt. How much do I owe you?” He gives the flowers a look over, not in an analyzing manner, but admiring the way you manage to take these flowers and effortlessly pair them all together and create something special.

“You’re in luck! I’m running a special today!.”

“A special?” Joel is frozen in confusion.

“Yes! Free to customers that go by the name of Joel.” You say sweetly, he catches the way you bite at your bottom lip after you say his name.

“‘N what are you gonna do when another Joel walks in wantin’ some of your pretty flowers?”

“Well, there’s limits of course. And it’s only valid for one Joel.” You wink at him, prompting his stomach to flip and knot up. He needs to ask you out!

“No, I can’t let you do that again. Let me pay this time, please.” He insists, setting the arrangement down on the counter he pulls his wallet from his back pocket, flipping through the large bills stashed inside. “How much?”

“Joel— my shop, my rules. There’s no arguing— just take the flowers.”

“Hi! I’m Sarah. Thank you so much for the flowers, my dad and I haven’t been able to stop talking about them. I have been bugging my dad to bring me here, it’s so pretty.” Sarah tells you as she stands next to Joel, arms crossed over the counter.

“You are so welcome. So glad you’re enjoying them.” Even with this brief interaction, you decided Sarah is one of the sweetest teenagers you’ve ever met— Ellie wouldn’t even take offense if you told her such, she would most likely shrug and agree.

“Hey, Dad. Are you almost ready to go? I’m starting to get hungry.” Sarah asks, turning to look up at him.

“Right— sorry, babygirl. We got caught up talkin’ and now I’m tryin’ to convince her to let me pay, but she’s insistin’ we just take the flowers.”

“Sounds like you shouldn’t argue with her. Just say thank you and take the flowers.” Sarah grabs the arrangement and snags Joel’s keys that are dangling from the front pocket of his jeans then starts to head for the door. “I’ll meet you in the truck dad. It was nice meeting you!”

You wave goodbye to her and watch as she stops on her way out to tell Ellie bye, telling her she’ll see her around at school, the bell dings and the door slowly closes as she walks out. She settles herself into Joel’s truck, its engine roaring to life soon after, signaling Joel to say his farewells and head finally head out.

“I guess I’ll see you around then.” Joel slowly walks backwards, prolonging his departure from you.

“I’ll see you around Joel. Hopefully sooner than later.” You wave to him then you’re straight back into work mode, moving buckets of flowers to be cleaned and prepped for your next round of arrangements.

Joel’s hand settles on the door, but releases it and turns back to where Ellie is finishing up her sweeping through the shop, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he interrupts her.

“If you take a picture it’ll last longer. Although, might be a little weird with you bein’ an old man and all.” Ellie is quick on her feet. Joel hopes that’s the last of her intimidation tactics.

“Hey, umm— don’t say anything to your mom ‘bout this, but sometime this week why don’t you take her out to eat somewhere. Give her a break from cookin’ and what not.” He holds a double folded $100 bill between his middle and pointer finger, encouraging Ellie to take it from him.

“This feels like some sort of thing my mom should've warned me about. We’re not a charity case, we don’t need your money.” She continues sweeping, grabbing leaves and a few days worth of dust bunnies that have collected under display tables.

“It’s not— I don’t think you’re a charity case. I just— I wanted to— umm.” Joel releases a deep sigh. He’s flustered, stumbling over his words trying to figure out what he is wanting to say.

“You wanted to ask my mom out, but you’re too much of a chickenshit. So you’re conning me into taking her out instead. Thinking that maybe I’ll soften up to you a bit.”

“Yeah, pretty much all of that.” Joel huffs out a laugh, shaking his head at how easily she was able to read him.

“I’ll tell ya what— I’ll take her somewhere, but I keep half.” Ellie bargains with him, making sure she still has the upper hand.

“Half?”

“Kids gotta make a livin’ somehow.”

Joel thinks it over, actually contemplates the pros and cons of being worked over by Ellie. Each positive gained him an in with Ellie, not really a guarantee, but he’s hopeful that maybe she would consider downgrading her verbal assaults a notch or two. The only negative Joel can come up with is… Ellie keeps the money and he has to come at this from a different angle, one he’s not really sure about yet.

“Okay, okay. You keep half, but take her somewhere nice-nice.” He holds the bill again out to her, she snatches it quickly and shoves it in her back pocket.

“Yeah, yeah old man. Under one condition. Next time you come in here acting like you’re buying flowers just so you can see her— you ask her out yourself. None of this middle man BS.”

“You gotta deal, kid.” He holds his hand out to her, and they shake on it. A truce cementing the fact that he agrees to not being a chickenshit— something he’s not sure he’s ever been called before. “Maybe go easy on the old man part a bit.”

“See ya around ol— Joel.”

“See ya later, Ellie.”

The driver door slams shut as Joel settles into the seat. The cold air already flowing through the cab, Sarah singing along to The Clash with the flowers secure in her lap. Joel fastens his seatbelt and shifts the truck into drive, his thumb drumming along to the beat as he drives away.

“So, you got a crush on the cute flower lady?” Sarah asks, her infectious smile extending from ear to ear.

“What? I— what makes you think that?” He looks over to her, his brows slightly raised at her suggesting he likes you— he does, he just didn’t realize it would be two teenagers picking up on it. .

“For starters, Nana’s been on vacation for a month, and she won’t be back for a while. But also the way you look at her, it’s so obvious.” She plays with the petals of the flowers, waiting for Joel’s response.

“Anyone ever told ya you’re a smart kid?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Yeah, you do all the time Dad. So, are you gonna ask her out?”

“I’m afraid if I don’t, Ellie’s gonna have a hit-man out for me.” He’s joking, but also not. “Yeah, I’m gonna ask her out.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #no outbreak!joel miller #TLOU au #bloom series #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #tlou #pedrostories

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myseungsunglove · 8 months

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Do Something | Ksm

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: angst, but fluff to wrap it up

Word Count: 2.5k

𖠫Summary: The reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore when it comes to Kim Seungmin. After a particularly trying day busy with practices and an impending concert, she explodes on her best friend, spilling her feelings for him but doesn’t exactly go about expressing those feelings in the best way.

✎A/N✎: I seriously meant for this to be a short drabble. This story has been in my head for weeks and I thought I could tell it quickly before laying down to sleep. Here I am 2.5k words later and this is anything but quick and short. I should have known. My biggest brain thoughts happen in the middle of the night. I’ve been reliving this story over and over on my own for weeks, now you guys can share in the drama with me. Sorry bout you. :p

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© September 10, 2023 by mysweethannie」

It had been a long day of rehearsal and prep for your upcoming performance at Lollapalooza with the boys. You had been on edge all day because it had really felt like you had been going non-stop for much too long. As a result, your nerves were fried and your patience was thin.

Your best friend, Seungmin, was always in tune with your mood. As the nine of you walked to the cars waiting for you outside ready for Lee Know and Changbin to drive you to a mini retreat before your next busy schedule, Seungmin grabbed your hand as a comfort as he always did when you were exhausted or having a rough day.

Today though, you had no patience for it. You had harbored feelings for your best friend for much too long and with your emotions on high alert after an exhausting day, the last thing you needed was comfort from your best friend who was never going to feel the same way about you that you did about him.

As he grabbed your hand starting to interlace his fingers with yours as he was so accustomed to, you ripped your hand away. You could feel his eyes rise up to look at your face, and you just knew that stupid puppy look was plastered on his face. You refused to look at him because you knew if you did, your resolve would crumble and you would cave. So you ran ahead, leaving Seungmin to walk by himself and grabbed Chan’s arm, leaning up against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked. You were certain that Seungmin was very likely burning holes in the back of your head with his eyes as you walked.

“Hey, Y/n-nah,” Chan smiled down at you, placing a comforting hand on top of yours. “You feeling any better than earlier?”

“It’s been a busy few weeks, Chan,” you sighed. “My battery is more depleted than I thought. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

“Hey! Don’t apologize. I think we’re all a little on edge. Maybe this tiny bit of time we are getting away will help?” he offered.

“Yeah, maybe,” you mused, your head somewhere other than the conversation you were having with Chan. You reached the back of an SUV and Chan opened up the trunk. You took your backpack off your back, and set it into the vehicle. As soon as the bag was discarded into the car, there was a pair of long arms wrapping around your waist, the clean smell of soap filling your senses as Seungmin rested his chin against your neck. You could feel his warm breath against your skin and goosebumps prickled up in response.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just get absolutely rejected by my best friend and let you sit by me on the trip,” he teased, his words dancing across your skin.

You visibly shook him off and turned quickly to face him. There was a look of utter confusion on his face as you spoke.

“Seungmin, are you ever going to do something about this or are we going to be forever stuck in this cycle of will they won’t they?” you blurted out. He stared at you, opened mouthed, his hands now resting on your waist as you looked into his eyes, searching them for any hint or clue that he felt even the tiniest bit of something for you. All you saw was confusion.

“Do something?” he questioned dumbly, his eyes darting back and forth between yours as if he were trying to read your mind, desperately seeking an answer to a question he wasn’t comprehending.

You pushed away from him then, your impatience flaring into anger and you couldn’t stop the next words to come tumbling out of your mouth.

“Yeah, fucking do something about this,” you gestured between the two of you as you took another step back. “This constant tension that is bubbling just below the surface between us every time we touch,” you rambled. “Which, by the way, is all the fucking time,” you add, gesturing wildly. “Or are you just not even remotely interested in doing anything with me and you just like that you can hold my hand and cuddle up to me without the obligation of anything more?” you accused. You felt bad the minute you said it, but there was no turning back now.

“What are you…” Seungmin started but you cut him off.

“No, don’t. It’s obvious we are not on the same page. I can’t do this right now. Fuck. How could I have thought there could be… anything more,” you trailed off walking away. “Chan, I’m switching cars,” you told him as you walked by, making a beeline for Lee Knows car where Jisung and Felix had already climbed into the backseat, IN opening the front door to take his place.

“Y/n, wait,” Seungmin pleaded desperately trying to follow after you.

“Chan, do not let him follow me,” you growled as you walked around the back of the car and swung open the back door of the car where Felix was settling in. “I mean it,” you glared at Chan.

He immediately put an arm up to Seungmin’s chest, stopping him from following you. The look on his face was nothing short of panic and confusion. You wanted so bad to make that go away, but you knew he had to get there on his own. Whatever that looked like.

You looked down at Felix and tears started falling immediately.

“Oh god, what’s going on?” he asked, his big, soft eyes staring up at you.

“I just,” you started, but couldn’t continue as you dissolved into uncontrollable tears.

Felix was immediately up and out of the car, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you tightly against his chest. You slumped in his hold and cried. You could feel him placing a hand on the back of your head, stroking it softly. You also felt the vibration of his deep, calming voice as he spoke, but you were so lost in the flurry of events that had just happened, you didn’t hear a word he said. He pulled you into the car with him, guiding you to sit in the middle seat and slid in behind you, pulling the door close.

“We can’t all sit back here,” you mumbled, sniffling pathetically as you looked from Han to Felix.

“Shut up, yes we can,” Han said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. “What the hell happened?” he asked Felix as you cried in his arms.

“I’ve got no clue,” he said as Lee Know climbed in the driver’s seat.

“So you finally said something?” Lee Know asked as he put on his seatbelt and started the car.

You nodded in response to Lee Know’s words, not brave enough to look up at him.

“Hmmm,” he responded. “He’ll sort his shit out,” he added.

“Oh shit,” In mumbled from the front seat. You had forgotten he was there. “Noona, what did he say?”

“Nothing. Fucking nothing at all,” you said, wiping your tears away as you pulled away from Jisung and sat up in the seat. You ran your fingers through your hair, before you brought your head to rest against the palms of your hands while your elbows rested on your knees. “He looked at me like I had grown two heads,” you added.

“You fucking idiot, Kim Seungmin,” Jisung mumbled from beside you, rumbing your back softly.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m the idiot.”

“Fat chance,” Felix interjected. “You finally tell him how you feel and he does nothing? You’re not the idiot here,” he reassures you.

You looked up then, looking around the car. All eyes were trained on you. Even Lee Know was glancing back at you as he headed for the gas station to fill up before driving on to the condo you guys had reserved for the night.

“I didn’t exactly tell him,” you said, shaking your head. “I more accused him of wanting to benefit from the physical intimacy of our relationship without having to invest emotionally in it.”

“Whoa,” Jisung whispered beside you.

“Ugh, I know,” you choked out. “God, why can’t I be normal for once in my fucking life?”

“The day I speak perfect english,” Lee Know sassed as he got out to pump gas. It made the atmosphere shift a little in the car, everyone laughing.

“Come on, let's run to the bathroom and grab you a drink,” Han said, opening the door and grabbing your hand, dragging you from the car.

You walked past the other car where Seungmin was filling up the SUV. He looked up as you passed, his eyes somewhat red rimmed and a brooding look on his face. When your eyes met, his glance softened, and you could see words dancing across his lips that were dying to come out but he didn’t say a word.

You quickly used the restroom. When you came out, Felix was shaking two waters at you and handed one to you, then grabbed your hand and walked back to the car with you. Han was quickly there too, an arm thrown over your shoulder as the three of you walked together. It was like they were your protectors. If only they could protect your heart from yourself, you thought as you climbed into the car. Seungmin had already returned to the back seat of Changbin’s car.

The rest of the trip went on, the boys doing their best to distract you from everything that had happened before you left. This day was supposed to be about STAYs and here it had turned into a complete disaster. Lee Know drove through McDonald’s, ordering everyone food and IN played DJ in the front seat. As you cruised down the dark road, Han sleeping soundly beside you and Felix singing along with the song, you glanced down at your phone to see that you had a string of messages from Seungmin. You didn’t open them. You just shoved your phone back into your pocket, and tried to shove down your feelings as well.

The other car beat you to your destination, but none of it’s occupants, save Kim fucking Seungmin were waiting for you. He stood in the parking lot with his hands shoved in his black pants, black framed glasses resting on his face, a blue plaid shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His eyes watched as Lee Know parked the car. Immediately he made a beeline for the car.

He pulled open Felix’s door just as harshly as you had back at the company.

“Out,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Now,” he added with a warning.

“Down boy,” Lee Know said from the front seat, but got out all the same. “Let’s go, fellas,” he called after the rest of the car.

Han squeezed your leg and pushed open his door.

“Just tell him the truth,” he whispered against your temple before placing a quick kiss there and getting out of the car.

Felix looked over at you, a look on his face that said he thought he would betray you by getting out of the car and leaving you alone with Seungmin.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

He climbed out reluctantly, shoving past Seungmin a little more roughly than usual.

You saw Seungmin’s jaw clench and his shoulders bristle, but he didn’t respond to Felix, he just climbed into the car and sat where Felix had.

“Seungmin, I…” you started but you were abruptly cut off.

You barely had time to register that the two of you were alone in the car before Seungmin’s hands were delicately cupping your cheeks, his lips crashing less delicately and more desperately against your own. At first you were shocked, your eyes wide, your body tense. The moment your brain caught up with what was happening, you reached out for Seungmin, your hands wrapping around his small waist and pulling him against you, the kiss becoming more intense as his tongue tangled with yours.

After many breathless moments, how long you weren’t really sure, Seungmin pulled away from you, his lips swollen from their first encounter with yours.

His forehead rested against yours and he sighed heavily.

“Are we on the same page now?” he asked, his breath fanning across your face. “I did something about it,” he added, almost more to himself than to you.

“You definitely did do something,” you agreed. You moved your hands from being wrapped around him and placed them on the sides of his face. “Seungmin, are you sure that was something you wanted?” you asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“I love you,” he let out in a whisper. “I have for so long. I have no fucking clue you ever wanted anything more,” he admitted.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You pressed your lips against his again, this time it was soft and comforting a stark difference from the desperate first kiss from before. His lips moved against your like they were made to do so.

“Most best friends don’t act like we do, Min,” you tell him. “We’re so close. How was I ever going to do anything other than fall in love with you, you idiot?”

He smiled then, his eyes lighting up for the first time.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really,” you confirmed. “I’m so sorry for what I said back there. I’m exhausted and I lashed out and before I could stop it, I had made a big fucking mess with my stupid ass words and I didn’t know how to take it back.” Your hands fell from his face then, into your lap.

He immediately grabbed both of your hands, holding them in his.

“I’m used to your messes,” he said gently. “You usually tell me what you’re thinking,” he added. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“The same reason I guess you didn’t tell me,” you shrugged. “I was afraid you didn’t feel the same.”

“I’ve felt this way from the moment I first met you,” Seungmin admitted. “I’m gonna be here waiting even through the shitty times if you’ll have me.”

You pulled him into a hug then, your face falling into his neck and breathing him in. Everything about him was comforting and you were wishing like hell you had just talked to him instead of blowing up at him, but you couldn’t change that now.

“If you can put up with me, of course I’ll have you Kim Seungmin,” you say. “It always has been and always will be you.”

#kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #stray kids fluff #seungmin #seungmin x reader #Kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin imagine #kim seungmine one shot #kim seungmin angst #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fanfiction

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alwritey-aphrodite · 9 months

Text

Paint The Town Blue

Chapter Five of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: drinking

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: I love how every Ted Lasso fic series has a gala chapter, we’re so cute like that

The rest of the week passes in a blur of glittering gowns and sweaty training sessions, face masks and bruises. It was surprisingly easy to find a dress for the gala, and you settle on something simple enough so you can hopefully wear it again after looking at the price tag. Training is rough, and you leave every day wondering how you’re able to walk, but your mood had improved considerably after Monday’s episode.

By the time Thursday morning rolls around, you’re nothing more than a bundle of nerves, terrified for the match and the gala and what everyone is going to think of you. You’d always assumed that people’s opinions of you wouldn’t affect you as much as what you think about yourself, but now that seemingly everyone has something negative to say, it’s starting to wear you down. It’s like there are two different forces propelling you forward: one that wants to win and one that needs to prove everyone wrong.

You know your teammates feel the same way.

The dressing room is thrumming with energy and tension about to snap, all of you primed and ready for the match ahead. Your nervous energy has peaked and dissipated after spending time in the dressing room, laughing and smiling with your teammates while you prepare, securing your hair back and waiting for one of the coaches to give the pre-match pep talk even though you’re paying more attention to readying yourself mentally than anything that comes out of their mouths, and you leave the dressing room feeling ready for whatever happens on the pitch.

When you return to the dressing room ninety minutes later, it’s to the jubilant singing of your teammates. It’d been a harsh fight, but you managed to score in the seventieth minute to secure a 1-0 win, pushing you higher in the standings.

“Oi!” Roy breaks through the revelry, “Don’t get too shit-faced tonight, you still have training tomorrow.”

“And free drinks tomorrow night!” Keeley adds as she enters the dressing room, causing another wave of fanfare to erupt, more for the woman herself than her statement.

“So maybe we push off the celebration?” Elena offers, and even though she’s met with a chorus of booing, you all eventually agree that tonight will be for resting and tomorrow can be for celebrating while bringing attention to whatever charity is at the center of the gala.

As much as you want to bask in the glow of the win, you change out of your kit as fast as possible, already dreaming about the warm shower waiting for you at home. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to some takeout instead of whatever leftover meal prep is sitting in your fridge. You say your goodbyes to the girls, congratulating Naomi, your goalkeeper, on all her amazing saves as you leave the dressing room to wait for Mackie in the hallway, where it’s cooler and less crowded and you can breathe deeply for the first time in ninety minutes.

Checking your phone, you see a text from Jamie and are a little embarrassed at how quickly you open it.

Congrats on the win!! You played great today, might have to ask you for some pointers

You hate the way you smile down at your phone as you type a response, reminding yourself that Jamie is your friend and a new one at that.

Thanks! Are you sure you could even handle any more training?

The three little dots appear as Mackie leaves the dressing room, so you close your phone and slip it into your pocket as quickly as possible. Knowing Mackie, she would make everything into a big deal, and you didn’t want to ruin one of your first friendships in Richmond outside of the team just because Mackie loves jumping to conclusions.

Driving home with Mackie is always the perfect way to end your evenings, she always knows if you want quiet or talking or hype music or relaxing music, and even when you don’t talk it’s wonderful to know you have someone next to you. Today, she’s a chatterbox, going on and on about all the calls she thought should have been fouls or yellow cards.

By the time she’s dropping you off, you’re laughing so hard there are tears pouring out of your eyes and you never want to spend a moment apart from her ever again.

“Alright, get out, I wanna go to bed,” Mackie says through the remnants of her laughter, pushing at your shoulder until you leave the car.

Your evening plans are very similar to Mackie’s, and you order takeout before you take a long, hot shower to relax your muscles that had gone into overdrive before you slip into your bed and turn on mind numbing television while you scroll through your phone. You text back and forth with Jamie for a while, confirming that he’s coming to the charity event Keeley has planned for Friday and he tells you that he’s pretty sure Keeley stuck you at the same table as him.

It’s terrifying how nervous that makes you feel, nervous like you’re about to hit the peak of a roller coaster or walk down the aisle in a white gown.

When you wake in the morning, it’s after a solid eight hours of sleep where you were plagued by the strangest dreams of weddings and fancy dresses and cars driven by Jamie Tartt. As odd as your dreams were, it was the best sleep you’d gotten since you arrived in Richmond and you’re finally starting to feel less keyed up.

Training is easy as well, and most of your day is spent reviewing game footage and reevaluating certain tactics and laughing so much you’re a little bit worried you’re going to pee yourself. As serious as you all can be, as anxious as everyone is on match day, it’s hard to feel anything but joy when you’re surrounded by your team and you’re riding high on the win from yesterday and the promise of free booze later.

As everyone’s packing up and showing pictures of dresses and shoes and hairstyles, Keeley pops in, clearly looking frazzled.

“Remember to be on our best behavior, yeah? At least until all the old people get tired and go home,” she smiles then, and you just wish you could tell her that tonight will be perfect and have her believe you.

Your training ended at the same time as the men’s team, giving everyone ample time to get ready for the gala, and you pretend to ignore the way Mackie stares at you when you wave goodbye to Jamie. She drops you off, promising to pick you up at seven and you know she’s refraining from making a joke about you finding a “better date” with a certain striker and you’re grateful for her self control.

When you finally make your way inside, all the stress and pressure from the week, from the month, come crashing down around you but you do your best to work through it, knowing you have a weekend full of absolutely nothing to look forward to. You take your time getting ready, luxuriating in the shower and spending longer than you ever have on your hair and makeup, the threat of a red carpet and paparazzi making bile rise in your throat.

Still, you manage to finish getting ready before Mackie arrives, giving you plenty of time to marinate in your own self doubt and anxiety. Never in your life have you needed to attend an event like this, let alone an event when most of the attention will be on you and your teammates. All you hope is that everything goes smoothly, for your sake and for Keeley’s. You know it’s eating at her how poorly received the women’s team has been, and you know she needs a win from the press.

Hopefully tonight goes well and she raises lots of money for charity before getting absolutely shitfaced with the Greyhounds.

As expected, Mackie arrives right on time, looking absolutely stunning in the suit you’d picked out together on Tuesday. She gives a wolf whistle as you lock your front door and make your way to the car, pausing to give her a little spin so she could see the dress, and you, in all its glory. You’ve never been one for fancy dresses, but Mackie’s reaction makes you think you should dress up more.

The drive to the venue only serves to give your anxiety time to grow, despite the gentle way Mackie tries to distract you with her talks of nonsense. Throughout your years of friendship, she’s always done her best to support you through events and nights like these, even though standing in the spotlight has always come naturally to her. By the time you slip out of the car and spot the photographers and the carpet and the rest of your teammates, you’re on the verge of throwing up and considering making a run for it when Mackie grabs you gently by the arm and steers you towards the carpet.

Finding your team waiting to get their pictures taken, you’re met with excited shouts and whistles and expletives as you and Mackie approach, as if they’re not also dressed to the nines and looking more beautiful than anyone you’ve ever seen. There are a few of the men’s players hanging around and chatting with your teammates, but they usher you forward onto the carpet, letting your team bask in the spotlight for once.

Mackie, as if sensing the anxiety radiating off of you in waves, grabs your hand and pulls you forward, stopping and posing with you until you make it safely to the other side of the carpet. Already overwhelmed, you simply squeeze her hand in silent thanks before dropping it as you make your way inside, dazzled by Keeley’s hard work and dedication.

The entire space is transformed, and what was before an empty, boring ballroom is covered in silver twinkling stars and ambient lighting and a sea of tables complete with numbers and place cards. Keeley truly never ceases to amaze you, and the fact that she could pull all of this off while working at her own PR company and helping to run the Greyhounds’ social media is mind boggling to you. As much as you want to tell her how great of a job she’s done, you can see her bouncing around from table to table and you can’t even imagine the stress she’s under, so you promise yourself you’ll tell her later.

When you finally find your table in the sea of others, Jamie, Colin, and Isaac are already sitting down, and the way Jamie smiles when he notices you makes you feel a little bit dizzy.

“Well, now it’s a party!” Colin says when he glances up and sees Mackie after noticing the spaced-out look that had appeared on Jamie’s face, and he stands to get everyone a drink. Your seat, apparently, is right next to Jamie, and you have to wonder if Keeley had planned it that way or if someone might have meddled.

By the forced look of nonchalance on Isaac’s face, you’re guessing it’s the second one.

“You look really nice,” Jamie says as he scrambles to pull your chair out, and you shamelessly let your eyes rove up and down his body, taking in the way his dark trousers hug his thighs and the exposed skin of his chest underneath his mostly unbuttoned shirt. Friends are allowed to admire how their friends look, you tell yourself, forcing the word ‘friend’ into your brain over and over again.

“So do you,” you tell him truthfully as you take a seat, and your heart flutters a little as his cheeks redden slightly.

The chatter throughout the room and the music playing softly creates a gentle hum in the background, but you’re not paying attention to anything except your table. Colin’s boyfriend, Micheal, was giving you all an earful about all the pains of dating a footballer, and between the way he’s cracking jokes and the drink you’d all but pounded to calm your nerves, you’re laughing harder than you have in ages. Lucky for you, your entire table seems to be in a similar position and the tables around you are so wrapped up in their own conversations that no one notices your rambunctious group.

After the food is served, though, you all manage to calm down to respectable levels, preparing yourselves for the long, drawn out auction that’s to come. Keeley is still fluttering around, and she stops by your table shortly after the entrees. She’s grinning, but you can tell she’s more than anxious from the way she keeps asking if everyone’s having a good time.

“Everything’s great, it’s beautiful in here,” you tell her, casting a glance around the room to look at the decor again.

“You guys look beautiful!” She counters, a genuine smile taking over her face and you just hope that the charity portion of the event is over soon so she can enjoy herself.

“Go eat!” You shoo her away, and you see Rebecca send you a wink out of the corner of her eye when she comes to steer Keeley back to her table.

Almost as soon as the plates are cleared away, Rebecca is thanking everyone for coming and thanking Keeley for planning such a beautiful night before beginning to auction off signed kits and match balls and VIP tickets for the rest of the season. You’re not sure if everyone’s been making good use out of the open bar or if the event is always this successful, but those items go for more money than you would have ever imagined.

While a few other guests continue to chat and sit by the bar to savor one last free drink, much of the remaining crowd works at Nelson Road in some capacity, and by the way Keeley glances around the room from her spot by the door, thanking everyone for coming as they leave, she’s clearly waiting for something.

Once it looks like the last guest has left, leaving behind the Greyhounds, Keeley takes to the stage, finally looking relaxed and bouncy and ready to party.

“Thank you guys for your good behavior,” she says to the crowd, and you all cheer back at her, “now let’s fucking party!”

If everyone had cheered for the first part of her sentence, then everyone was going crazy now, yelling so loud your ears hurt a little. The tables were all pushed away and some apparently famous DJ took the stage, and then it was time for a night of drinks and dancing with your friends, the perfect way to celebrate your win from yesterday and Keeley’s successful charity event.

Despite never being one for the club scene, the drinks and the company were making you feel like you could conquer anything, so you join the mass of swaying bodies, finding space to dance near Mackie and Amelia. You can’t remember ever feeling this loose, this carefree, so you intend to savor it.

After a few songs, though, your feet start killing you and you navigate your way out of the crowd to find a seat at the bar. Luckily for you, Jamie was sitting at the bar, watching the crowd with a beer bottle in his hand, and you know you light up when you see him. With all the drinks coursing through your body, you forget to be nervous around him, forget to remind yourself that he’s just a friend.

Plopping down next to him and unbuckling the tiny straps on your shoes, you sigh in relief once you can feel your toes again, giving yourself a little break before going back out to dance.

“Want a drink?” Jamie asks with a little nod back to the bar, an amused smile on his face as he watches you staring at your feet, willing them to feel better.

“Sure!” You chirp, talking louder than you normally would to be heard over the music. Jamie, ever the observer, remembers your drink of choice from early in the evening and slides one to you from across the bar.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” You ask him after taking a healthy swig from your drink.

“Don’t wanna,” he shrugs, looking from the crowd to you to the bottle in his hand, “someone here should be responsible, yeah?” Instead of a response, you just clink your glasses together with a smile.

Soon, you’re so wrapped up in Jamie that your mission to get back on the dance floor is completely forgotten. The two of you make your way outside, to hear each other better, and your heart ticks up when Jamie carries your shoes out for you, making no comment on you being barefoot in London.

He takes a seat on the steps and you follow suit, sitting closer than you normally would. You talk for what must be hours, trading stories from training and old clubs and your childhood determination to make it to the top, and much too soon for your liking, Elena is coming outside with Mackie on her arm.

“I promised I’d bring these two home,” she says, Mackie immediately pouting at the older woman.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave,” you sigh, gathering your shoes and standing as Elena attempts to get Mackie down the stairs, “thanks for talking with me.” You lean back down to plant a kiss on his cheek without a second thought.

You turn to leave, and you don’t notice the way Jamie tenderly touches the faint lipstick mark left behind on his cheek.

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#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 11 months

Text

close to home | chapter twelve

plot: the reader goes through the motions of her daily life in the prison after the attack while hunting with Daryl

series masterlist Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,206 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

Daryl was frustrated the entire drive home. He white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire way home and immediately sent you to Hershel for a second opinion on your not needing stitching. He dropped off today’s game to the butchering team and then went to smoke a cigarette. His peace didn’t last long before Glenn found him to start prepping for the run today.

He fisted his hand and took a long drag of the cigarette before putting it out and following Glenn to the run group. Today it would be a few people on a quick run to an army camp, and he was hoping to be back before sundown. He didn’t necessarily want to go on the run, but he didn’t have a choice either.

Meanwhile, after you and your uncle shared a laugh over Daryl wanting him to check you for stitches, you found Maggie outside with Beth and Judith, eating lunch. You ruffled your youngest cousin's hair before grabbing your plate and sitting with them. It was your first actual meal of the day, and you were starving.

“What happened to your arm?” Beth asked you.

You glanced at it before taking a bit of your food. “Daryl and I got jumped while checking the hunting grounds. We’re fine. I got a small cut.”

“You okay?” Maggie asked.

You nodded with a smile, “Didn’t even need stitches. What’s on the agenda after lunch today?” You asked.

Maggie raised an eyebrow, and you didn’t need her to answer your question. You already knew. But she did anyway. “The fence.”

***

The new few hours were strenuous, and you and Maggie worked with a few others to work on one of the clusters. You spent a few hours working out there, only stopping for water.

You thought of Daryl often; you wondered if the run was going well and if everything was okay. He seemed agitated the entire way home earlier, and you worried that it would cost him out there. You tried not to worry about your friend too much. You felt better knowing that Michonne was there to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

When the sun started slipping behind the trees, and a decent amount of walkers were killed through the fence, you and Maggie called it quits for the night and went inside to wash up for dinner. Tora joined you in the bathroom quarters while you took advantage of running water and took your second shower of the day. You have to ration your soap, but it was worth it after the day you had.

Once you were dried and in clean clothes, you and Maggie grabbed dinner and took it to the guard tower that isn’t used for watch to eat.

“I got my period,” Maggie said once you settled.

Your eyes widened, and you nodded, sipping a bit of water. “How do you feel about that?” She had told you a few days ago she and Glenn were going through a pregnancy scare.

She shrugged and played around with her food. “Relieved a bit, I think. I know Glenn will be. But I think I’m a little disappointed, in a way.” When you raised an eyebrow at her, she continued. “I’m not sayin’ I wanna start trying or nothing, but what we have here, the prison… we can have lives here. I know it won’t be a perfect place, and it scares me to death, but aren’t we supposed to be fighting for a better world here?”

“I don’t know, Maggie,” You said, “I don’t know what the right thing is. I think you’re too young, though, I can tell you that. If I ain’t ready, you ain’t.” Your attempt to lighten her mood worked, and she laughed.

“Trust me, I was thinking about that as well.”

You talked for a bit longer as you ate and then sat for a little while. When the sun fully set and nighttime fell, exhaustion finally hit you, and you two decided to head down and get some rest. Just as you were doing so, the run group returned. You followed Maggie to make sure everything went okay with the group.

“We lost Zach,” Glenn told the two of you in hushed voices while everyone else unloaded the few things they did manage to grab. “The was a helicopter on the roof with a bunch of walkers…. It all came down…” Glenn trailed off. Maggie’s expression softened, and she told him she’d help him get cleaned up.

“Oh (Y/N), Daryl was there when it happened. He wants to be the one to tell Beth, but I think he’ll need checking on, too,” Glenn told you.

Maggie told you she would check on Beth while you made sure Daryl was okay. By the time your conversation had finished, the run group was already gone and only a few watch groups were out.

You let out a loud sigh and walked into your cell block, grabbing a few stored-away food items and some water for Daryl. You were ready for bed, but you wanted to check on your friend.

The cell block was quiet. Most of your group were tucked away in their cells for the night. When you passed Carl’s cell, Tora was sitting on his lap while he read comic books. He didn’t notice you chuckle, and you walked away before he could. You did love the fact that she’d taken to him. The poor kid had gone through so much, and you knew how much a friend like a cat could help.

The stairs were the worst part of your journey, and your legs ached when you reached the top. You had moved cell blocks once Rick accepted you as part of the group, and you had made the cell your own space. After having Tyreese help you remove the metal beds, you bribed Michonne into helping you find a full-size mattress. Sure, there was no frame, but you preferred it that way anyway.

Daryl finally moved from the perch into a cell room and took the one next to yours. Sometimes if the block was quiet enough, you could hear him snoring. That was how you always knew if he was sleeping or not.

You knocked on the wall next to the curtain that was his door, “Daryl, brought you dinner,” You said.

“Ain’ hungry,”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m coming in,”

Daryl muttered something under his breath, but you ignored whatever comment it was and walked in. He was sitting on his bed, sharpening his knife. Exhaustion was written across his face.

“I heard about Zach,” You said, sitting at the end of the bed and giving him his food. “How are you holding up?”

He ignored you and continued sharpening his knife. You sighed and moved to stand up. As much as you wanted to make sure he was okay, you didn’t want to pressure him into talking about it.

You left with a soft goodbye and went to your cell, where Tora was waiting. You smiled, quickly changed into sleeping clothes, and then curled up into bed with her.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #the walking dead

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cha-melodius · 7 months

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Hi friend! Congrats again on 100 works! Thank you for offering to write more for us! ❤️I'd like to request 1. firstprince and 2. Kensington as an AU, but only because you dared us to! Alternatively, if someone already requested that and you don't want to duplicate, I'd be interested in a hockey AU set inside the rink! Thank you again, I am so excited to see what you come up with and to read more of your words!

(Thank you so much for taking my bait lol, I've wanted to write this canon-divergence AU where they hook up in Kensington during the damage control trip for a while now. I hope you enjoy!)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile

(firstprince, 4.1k, M; read it below or on AO3) read all the fandom fest fics

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to finish up at the hospital, and then Henry would go back to whatever the fuck he does while Alex went to the airstrip. He’d fly back to DC, so that maybe he’d be able to get some schoolwork done before Monday, and try to forget that this ridiculous weekend ever happened—barring the fact that he and Henry were still obligated to keep up the fake friendship for a few more months, that is.

Instead, Cash comes up to him as they stand outside of Kensington with a slightly grim look on his face and says, “Change of plans.”

“Huh?”

“They discovered an issue with the plane during the flight prep. It needs some part that they’re not going to be able to get until tomorrow morning. We’ll leave then.”

“What do you mean, they can’t get it? Why not?” Alex demands. Surely in a country with fucking royalty, nothing is out of grasp for said royals and their guests.

Cash shrugs. “Didn’t ask. The palace confirmed you can stay another night.”

Alex groans probably a little too dramatically. “What about my classes?”

“I am, in fact, very aware of your class schedule,” Cash says dryly. “You’ll be back in time.”

“I don’t have another change of clothes.”

“Pretty sure Kensington has laundry.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

Alex sighs and looks over to where Henry is standing with Shaan by the front gates. There’s a look of trepidation on his face, no doubt because he’s just been told that he’ll have to deal with Alex for another night. Of course, that’s not a given. Henry will probably disappear into his apartments and ignore him, which suits Alex fine. They may have reached a kind of détente today, but they’re not friends.

“Sorry to hear about your plane,” Henry says as they get back into the car that will drive them further into the palace.

Alex shrugs. “It’s fine. I guess I’ll have to survive the hardship of ten thousand thread count sheets another night.”

Henry huffs a little laugh and grins. It’s kind of amazing how different he looks when he smiles for real. “I know you’ve probably had your fill of me today, so feel free to say no, but…” He hesitates a moment, as if waiting for Alex to shut him down before he even makes his proposal. “I was thinking of ordering in curry for dinner tonight. There’s a place not far away that’s quite good. Maybe watch a film?”

It’s pretty much the last thing Alex expected him to say. He wonders if this is another olive branch, an acknowledgement that it’ll be easier to pretend they’re friends if they’re actually… kinda friends. Surprisingly, Alex doesn’t hate the idea.

“What movie?” he counters.

“Well, I would suggest one of the Star Wars films, but I’m not sure we could agree on one.”

“If we’re not going to watch the best one, aka Empire—”

“You mean Return of the Jedi,” Henry interjects.

“—I guess that leaves the next best.”

“So, Rogue One?”

Alex grins. “Ok, maybe we can be friends, after all.”

He’s absolutely not letting himself think about the warmth that grows in his chest when Henry laughs.

~~~~~

Alex discovers that there’s a room in Kensington that’s pretty much as tricked out as you can get without being in a movie theater—“There’s an actual theater in Buckingham,” Henry tells him, “but Dad had this put in for family film nights”—with a massive screen and a killer sound system. They eat their curry out of take-out containers on a surprisingly comfortable, normal couch as the movie plays, keeping up a running commentary between them that ranges from Star Wars lore to the cast (“Come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t follow Diego Luna anywhere. Look at him!” Alex insists, which garners him a strange look from Henry) to random things entirely unconnected to the movie.

Turns out Henry is actually really funny, which is a fucking shock and kind of annoying except for how he leaves Alex in stitches several times. It’s absurdly easy between them in a way that it shouldn’t be, and Alex can’t remember the last time he had this much fun just hanging out with someone. And it’s Henry. What is his life, even.

“I can’t believe you like this one,” Alex says as they watch Jyn and Cassian embrace desperately on the beach. “It’s pretty much the opposite of a happy ending. For the main characters, at least.”

Henry hums, tipping his head slightly. “They give up everything in the service of a cause bigger than themselves, and they succeed. There’s something beautiful about that.”

“God, you are a sap,” Alex teases, bumping his shoulder up against Henry’s. Somehow they’ve managed to migrate closer on the couch over the course of the movie, until they’re practically touching.

“And why do you like it, then?” Henry counters. “The action and spies and intrigue?”

“Not only that,” Alex says. “But there’s a reason I’m a big Bond fan.”

A smile flickers across Henry’s face that’s a little melancholy but mostly contented. “I suppose that makes sense given what I know of your movie tastes now.”

“Also, your dad was a total babe.”

Henry’s eyes go wide as he chokes on a laugh. “I beg you to not.”

They lapse into silence as the final scenes as the credits start to roll. The movie is over and it’s getting late, but all Alex can think of is that he really doesn’t want the night to end yet. Which is crazy. Twenty-four hours ago Alex was actively cursing this man’s name, and now he seemingly can’t get enough of spending time with him. It doesn’t make any sense, but somehow it does; it’s the same feeling that he was chasing all those years ago in Rio, the one that pushed him to go up an introduce himself at exactly the wrong time, the one that made the hurt of that encounter linger for so long in his psyche.

“Hey, uh,” he says eventually, turning slightly to look at Henry, “thanks for suggesting this. It was fun.”

“I hope it made up for being stuck in London longer than you wanted,” Henry replies, his voice low and soft.

“Definitely.”

Henry smiles, a warm and pleased one that stretches his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Alex feels like he’s being pulled in by the magnetism of it. He wants to get closer, despite how close they’re already sitting. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch—the soft blond hair falling over Henry’s forehead, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. He’s always known Henry was objectively good-looking, but Jesus, where does he get off being so pretty? It’s annoying, really.

Alex isn’t trying to make things weird, but he also can’t quite help the way his eyes are drawn inexorably down to those plush lips, still curved in a gentle smile. Who even has lips like that, does he get fillers or something, because they can’t be real, except they look very, very real, Alex hasn’t even ever kissed any girls with lips that nice, that look that soft—

Something short circuits in Alex’s brain and he just— has to know. How soft they really are. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to Henry’s, which are, as it turns out, extremely soft. It only lasts for a second before his brain comes back online and he realizes Henry’s frozen stiff, which is fair, because Alex has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He hasn’t kissed a boy since Liam and this was not the fucking boy to just kiss out of nowhere. He’s gonna get, like, locked in the Tower of London or something.

He wrenches away as quickly as he leaned in, meeting Henry’s wide, stunned eyes (—still so so blue, how can they be that blue—), his lips slightly parted and just a little damp from Alex’s.

“Shit,” Alex breathes in a rush. “Fucking shit— I don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry, Henry, I didn’t mean anything by it—”

“Alex,” Henry murmurs, but Alex is too far gone in his spiral at this point.

“—I promise, it was just— I mean, I’m not even—”

“Alex.”

Alex stops in the middle of a word, his mouth hanging open. Henry’s got some kind of strange look on his face that he can’t parse at all.

“Did it really not mean anything?” he asks slowly.

The thing is, Alex has no idea what it means. Absolutely none. Something inside him—something he doesn’t really understand—wanted to do it, but like, just as an objective experiment. Except that part of him wants to do it again, even though he already got his answer. Really wants Henry to kiss him back. Which is making him feel a little insane.

Alex closes his mouth, licks his lips, and swallows hard.

“That depends,” he says cautiously, “on what you want it to mean.”

For some reason, that makes Henry growl in frustration and cast his eyes to the ceiling. Then he groans, “Christ, Alex, you’re so—”, grabs Alex’s face between both hands, and kisses him soundly.

Alex’s insides go positively molten. Henry’s hands are gripping his jaw, and in his hair, and Alex can’t help but press closer. His own hands find Henry’s narrow waist, reveling in the dip of it, the heat of his body scorching through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the only thing currently occupying Alex’s mind is a desperate urge to feel bare skin under his palms. That is, until Henry slides his tongue along Alex’s lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and tugs on it with his teeth, and Alex stops thinking altogether.

Their positions are a little awkward, twisted toward each other on the couch as they are, and Alex isn’t sure if he pulls or Henry pushes—or maybe both—but a moment later Henry is unfolding his long legs and shifting to straddle Alex’s lap, which is both incredible and incredibly overwhelming. Especially when Henry’s hips rock forward and Alex can feel his growing arousal pressing into the rapidly tightening region of Alex’s pants.

Jesus, this is— it’s— it’s a lot, but the very last thing Alex wants to happen is for it to stop.

He absolutely does not whimper when Henry pulls back, sending Alex unconsciously chasing after his lips. Fortunately, Henry doesn’t go far. He presses their foreheads together, breathing raggedly into the space between them as his thumb swipes across Alex’s cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Henry breathes, and yeah, Alex had no fucking clue.

His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and he has no idea what to say to that besides: “Fuck.”

Henry chuckles softly, nudging their noses together. “Indeed.” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips, then another to the corner of his mouth and one to the edge of his jaw. “Do you want to… go somewhere we won’t be interrupted?” he murmurs into Alex’s ear, and his warm breath combined with the words makes Alex tremble under him.

Alex swallows hard as his hands tighten on Henry’s hips, but he hesitates a moment too long because then Henry is actually pulling back, a concerned expression creasing his brow.

“Which is not to say— we don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want— I just thought—”

“I want to,” Alex blurts, surprising even himself. He’s not entirely sure what more means to Henry, but he knows he wants it. Jesus, does he want. “Yes. Fuck. Let’s do that.”

Henry grins, wide and nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Alex thinks he would do just about anything to see that smile on his face always.

They clamber off the couch, adjusting themselves with shared, knowing giggles, then Henry grabs his hand and tugs Alex through formal, stuffy corridors lined with portraits and antiques, which just adds a certain something to the absurdity of the whole situation. Somehow it’s not a surprise that Henry’s apartments are just as impersonal and opulent as the rest of the palace, full of hideous floral wallpaper and baroque furniture. Before, he’d have put that on Henry himself, but now it feels wrong despite the fact that Alex still barely knows him. It feels like he knows enough. Henry eats curry on the couch and cracks crude jokes and sniffles at the tragic endings of Star Wars movies (yes, Alex noticed). Henry is warm and soft and feels like he belongs in cozy, simple rooms full of old books and tea and cardigans.

Alex’s musings are cut off when Henry pulls him close again at the foot of the hideous gilt monstrosity that is his bed, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and tugging him into a lingering kiss. It’s softer than before, delicate and sweet, exactly like Alex would imagine Prince Charming would kiss. From this angle Alex has to tip his head up to kiss him, which is definitely not something he ever thought would do it for him, and yet. Henry’s evening stubble scratches against his chin, and broad hands grip onto his hips and pull him against the hard, flat planes of Henry’s chest, all of it constantly reminding him of the unmistakable masculinity of the person he’s currently making out with.

Alex thinks, distantly, that he should probably be freaking out about this a bit more, but it’s too easy to give himself over it in the moment. He can freak out about what whatever the fuck it means later.

Henry’s hands move to the front of Alex’s shirt, and his nimble fingers make short work of the buttons before pushing it backwards off Alex’s shoulders. His fingers leave trails of fire where they linger against Alex’s bare skin, and even just this has Alex moaning into the kiss, desperate for more. He tugs at Henry’s shirt, yanking the tails out of his pants and nearly tearing the buttons open in his haste, which makes Henry laugh at him, the bastard.

“Eager, are we?” Henry teases, and Alex bites the grin right off his face.

“Shut all the way up,” he huffs before sinking his teeth into the absolutely irresistible collarbone he’s just uncovered.

Henry sucks in a gratifying breath at that, his hands tightening on Alex’s waist, and then he’s manhandling Alex back onto the mattress, which has no business being as hot as it is. Alex kicks off his shoes before scrabbling backwards so that he’s lying against the pillows, his heart racing as Henry crawls up over him with a nearly predatory grin on his face. The way his body fully blankets Alex’s is overwhelming in the best way, making every part of Alex ache with the need to somehow be closer, even as Henry presses the their bodies together from knee to chest and captures Alex’s lips in another deep, probing kiss.

They kiss and kiss until Alex’s lips are almost numb from it, their hands roving over heated skin and through thoroughly mussed hair. Henry’s hips roll slowly against him, almost a question, and Alex groans when he feels the hardness of Henry’s cock pushing against his hip. His own is straining against the front of his trousers, and his breath shudders in his chest when he imagines what it would feel like to have Henry’s hands wrapped around him.

But—

“Hey, uh,” he breathes as Henry’s mouth moves to his neck, and he’s nearly driven to distraction by the feeling of Henry’s teeth scraping lightly over his pulse point, but he wants to get this out, “I’ve never actually—” His voice fails, and Henry pulls back just enough to look him in the eye. Alex swallows. “Done this. With a guy. I mean, kinda, but not really—” He lets out a frustrated huff. “It’s a long story.”

Henry stares at him so intensely and earnestly that Alex feels flayed open by it, like Henry can see all the parts of him that Alex himself didn’t know were there. “We can just do this,” he says as he pushes a curl back from Alex’s forehead. “The last thing I want is to push you into something you’re not comfortable with.”

It’s completely reasonable not to rush things, but Alex thinks if he leaves London without seeing Henry naked he might fucking expire.

“Did I not already fucking say I wanted it?” he retorts, a little testily. Better that than admitting how desperate he really is.

“Well, to be fair, we didn’t exactly specify—”

“I want you naked,” Alex breathes in a rush. “I want your hands on me. Your mouth, if— if that’s something you want.”

Henry’s gaze goes dark and hot, and he actually licks his lips. Alex’s dick twitches in his pants. Jesus Christ.

Henry dips back down to kiss his neck, but a moment later he answers. “That,” he says, pressing it into Alex’s skin as he kisses a path down his chest, “is something I very much want.”

Then Henry’s hands are at his waistband, making short work of his belt and peeling off his underwear and pants in one go, and everything goes very, very hazy after that in the absolute best possible way.

~~~~~

The room is quiet after they subside, after every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from their bodies, after shouted names ease into murmured endearments.

“I should go,” Alex eventually whispers into the stillness, because he should. It would be better if he spent the night in his own rooms. Safer.

He doesn’t want to, though. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, doesn’t want to give his brain the space to run wild with this. That’s what will happen if he goes. He’ll fall into a research spiral on google, and text Nora even though it’s too late, and quietly freak out about everything that’s happened tonight. Here, though, Henry’s got an arm thrown over his waist, and it’s not much, but the weight of it soothes something within him. Keeps him grounded.

Maybe it’s just Henry that settles him. He doesn’t want to think too hard about that.

“You could stay,” Henry murmurs back. He leans in, presses a kiss to the outside of Alex’s shoulder. “No one will notice. Tomorrow’s Sunday. The staff come in late.”

This is a terrible idea. This can’t be… anything, really, given who they are. Alex doesn’t even know what he wants it to be, but he knows that.

“You sure?” Alex asks anyway.

“Stay,” Henry repeats.

So Alex stays.

~~~~~

The bed Alex wakes up in is unfamiliar, which is hardly surprising given his travel schedule lately. What is unexpected is that he’s naked, and there’s a warm, naked body pressed against his back, and abruptly all of what he got up to the previous night comes slamming back into vivid clarity.

He slept with the fucking prince. Henry. His nemesis, except not actually, apparently, and oh yes, definitely also a dude. Alex sucked his dick and most definitely enjoyed the experience, so that’s a whole new thing. The freakout about his sexuality that he shoved to the back of his mind last night rockets to the forefront now, and he can feel his breath stutter in his chest.

Except then Henry’s arm tightens around him and he presses a sleepy kiss to the back of Alex’s shoulder, and the tightness in his chest unclenches somewhat. Not all the way, but enough.

He fumbles for his watch, then jolts up to sitting with a new fear once he sees the time. Jesus Christ, Cash or Amy is going to show up at his bedroom any minute now to pick him up so they can leave, and Alex isn’t fucking there. This is a disaster.

Henry grumbles at being disrupted, sleepily rubbing at his eyes in a way that’s definitely not adorable at all. “Time is it?” he mumbles through a yawn.

“Late,” Alex huffs, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly falling out of the bed in his haste to find his clothing.

He’s halfway into his pants when there’s a knock at Henry’s bedroom door, and he almost falls on his face again. That seems to wake Henry up a bit more, and he finally sits up, his hair standing up in all directions and his eyes gone wide.

“Yes?” Henry calls out.

“The Secret Service seem to have misplaced their charge,” comes Shaan’s voice through the door, and Alex would very much like to die right now. Henry stumbles out of bed, throwing on a robe, then opens the door just enough so that Alex isn’t visible. “I told them I would inquire with you to see if you had any idea of Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s whereabouts.”

There’s something very knowing in Shaan’s tone, like he’s perfectly aware of where Alex spent the night and furthermore none of this is exactly a surprise to him, and Alex only barely manages to hold back the extensive collection of curses crowding at the tip of his tongue. What the actual fuck.

“Ah,” Henry says. His cheeks are bright pink. “Just a moment, I’m sure I can help you locate him.”

“I’m not sure I’ve properly conveyed how agitated they are, sir.”

“Tell them I’m ok,” Alex sighs begrudgingly, stepping into view now that his shirt and pants are on. It’s not like he’s kidding anyone; he’s still barefoot in Henry’s bedroom and the bed that two people clearly slept in is fully visible from where Shaan is standing. “I just—”

Shaan holds up a hand. “Believe me when I say that you do not need to finish that sentence. I will deliver the message, but”—he pauses, glancing between them—“you probably shouldn’t linger.”

He pulls the door closed behind him as he goes and, despite the warning, Alex stands there for a minute, rooted in place and staring at the floor. Maybe Shaan doesn’t want an explanation, but the Secret Service certainly will. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Henry says quietly, suddenly close beside him. Alex hadn’t heard him approach. He still looks so soft and sleep-rumpled, and something tugs at Alex’s chest that absolutely should not be tugging. “I shouldn’t have talked you into staying here.”

Alex huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t take much convincing,” he says. “I shoulda just set a fucking alarm.”

“Probably,” Henry agrees, his lips tipping into a wry smile that fades into a look of concern. “Are you… ok?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he answers, probably a little too quickly. Henry just stares at him in that way that makes Alex feel entirely too seen. “Probably gonna get chewed out for disappearing, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

Alex swallows. “I’m fine.” He offers Henry a little smile. “This was fun.”

“It certainly was,” Henry agrees carefully.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number, it’ll be easier to plan joint appearances or whatever,” Alex says in a blatant attempt to divert from a discussion about what happened or what this makes them. He’s got to figure his own shit out first. He doesn’t need Henry to know that he’s already wondering when he can arrange his schedule to see him again.

Henry gives him a look, but he fetches his phone and hands it over to Alex with a blank contact page open. Alex types in his number and hands it back.

“I’ll be disappointed if you only use that for booty calls,” he jokes.

Henry sputters out a laugh. “Noted.”

He’s endearingly pink-cheeked and smiling, and Alex doesn’t think before he takes the last step that puts him in Henry’s personal space, grabs the fronts of Henry’s robe, and pulls him into a kiss.

If he’d had any lingering doubts about the previous night, about whether what he’d felt was real or not, this thoroughly dispels them. The press of Henry’s lips to his, the way their mouths slot together as easily as if they’ve been doing this for years, the zip of electricity that fizzles under his skin and spreads out to tingle in the tips of his fingers and toes… Alex has never been kissed like this, has never felt like this being kissed, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Like he’s falling.

Oh. Fuck.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fic #firstprince fanfic #my fics #chamel's fandom fest

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agaypanic · 9 months

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An Undead Secret (Ravi Chakrabarti X Zombie!Moore!Reader)

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Summary: To save your life, your sister Liv scratched you and turned you into a zombie. Feeling hungry, you go to the morgue to visit your sister and get her to share some of her food. One problem: only Liv knows about your condition and your boyfriend Ravi just came back from a coffee run.

A/N: i know i have a bunch of requests but i just finished all of iZombie in less than a week and Rahul Kohli/Ravi Chakrabarti is SO dreamy, so i felt the need to write something about him lol

***

You wished you were one of those people who meal-prepped for their week. Then this wouldn’t have happened. It was bad enough that Liv had to split her brain resources with you. But when you were enjoying your day off, you went to the fridge for some lunch just to find that you were out of the brain that Liv had brought home for the week.

“Crap.” You muttered, feeling around on the island for your phone while you stared at the fridge. Part of you hoped there was a bit of teen girl brain in some container at the back, but there was none. So you called your sister.

“Hello?” Liv answered.

“Hey, Liv. We’re out of that teenage girl’s brain, and I’m starving. Can I swing by the morgue real quick?”

“Oh! Yeah, come on down. Sorry, I forgot to tell you about that. I’m making spaghetti with Italian gangster meatballs right now.”

“That sounds perfect. See you soon.” You and your sister said quick goodbyes, and you got dressed to leave the apartment.

Luckily, you and Liv lived near the Seattle Police Department, so your drive was quick. This was especially good because you didn’t know how long you’d be able to go without eating another brain. Part of you wished you had the balls to be a murderer or something; at least then, you could get brains whenever you wanted instead of waiting for the latest murder victim to land in the morgue.

“Liv, I’m here!” You announced, walking into the morgue. Your sister stood in the kitchen, looking up at you from her cooking to smile at you.

“Hey, Y/n. Just about to make the meatballs.” That made you race to her side, eyeing the brain that she was cutting up.

“Mind if I have some right now? I can’t take the waiting anymore.” Liv nodded, cutting off a good chunk for you to eat. You picked off a piece to eat while Liv made the rest of her lunch. When everything was done, her phone buzzed on the counter.

“Damn, it’s Clive. Guess I have to have my food to go.” Liv grabbed a tupperware container to put her lunch in and was about to exit the morgue when she turned back to you, as if suddenly remembering you were there. “Feel free to stay, if you want. I’ll let you know if I have to leave the station.”

“Have fun solving murders.” You waved your sister off, and she left.

You had been to the morgue before, but never alone. You’d always have Liv or Ravi with you, mainly because they worked down here and you didn’t. Despite knowing there were dead bodies on the other side of the room, the place was otherwise pretty peaceful.

Brains, like most foods since you turned, were bland and pretty much unappealing. But you and Liv found that the saving grace for your taste buds was spicy things like hot sauce and ghost peppers. After a bit of digging, you saw what was probably Liv’s hot sauce in the fridge and practically doused your chunk of brain with it. You moaned with delight at the fact that you could actually taste something now.

“Y/n! What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?” Someone startled you from behind. You whipped around to see Ravi walking down the steps into the morgue, carrying two cups of coffee. “Have you seen Liv? I have her coff- Oh my god, what are you eating?” Clearly, he hadn’t registered what was in your hands at first.

You knew that Ravi knew about Liv being a zombie; it was actually something the two of you bonded over when she started working in the morgue because how crazy was it that you knew someone who was actually undead? But a few months ago, your apartment was robbed, and you got hurt pretty bad. Instead of calling the police, you called your sister, who you begged to turn you. With little convincing, seeing the condition you were in, Liv scratched you.

You wanted to hide your new condition more than Liv, so you became a frequent buyer of hair dye and spray tan or foundation. Liv agreed to keep the secret between you, so no one else knew. Not even Ravi. Sure, maybe you should’ve told your boyfriend that you were now a zombie, especially since if you ever had sex, you could probably turn him. But thinking about how he could react scared you. It was one thing to be friends with someone undead; it was another thing to date them.

“Oh! Hey, Ravi.” You hid the half-eaten piece of the brain behind your bag, smiling innocently yet nervously. “Um, you just missed Liv. She went upstairs to meet with Clive.”

“Y/n…” He said in that tone that a parent would use on a child that’s just done something wrong. He set down the coffees and walks into the kitchen, looking curiously at you. “What’s behind your back?”

“Nothing.” You responded, voice higher than it just was. Ravi reached his hands out to you.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanna see.” This is part of why you felt so guilty about not telling Ravi. He was so kind and understanding, just wanting to help. Of course, it helped that this wouldn’t be his first zombie encounter.

Realizing there was no way out of this, you sighed and brought the brain into his line of sight. His eyes widened as he realized what you were eating.

“Ravi, babe, I can explain-”

“You’re a zombie?”

“I guess I don’t have to explain; that’s spot on.” You laughed, trying to ease the tension, but Ravi wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm to sit you down in one of the chairs in the kitchen, sitting in the one next to you.

“How long?” Seeing you nervously play with your fingers, Ravi grabbed your hands and threaded your fingers with his.

“A few months. Liv turned me.”

“Why did she turn you?”

“I asked her to.” You thought he’d ask something else, but instead, he gave you a look that urged you to tell the full story. You sighed. “My apartment got broken into, and the guy didn’t really appreciate that I was there. I called Liv and asked her to scratch me. That’s why I moved in with her and Peyton.”

“Oh god, Y/n.” Ravi let go of your hands to hug you, dragging you and the chair you were sitting on closer to him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay, Ravi.” You responded, face buried in his shoulder. “You didn’t know.” That seemed to bring up a new point with him. He gently pushed you off of him just enough so he could make eye contact with you.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just wanted to be normal.” You shrugged. “I didn’t want anyone to know I changed. That’s why I dye my hair and use makeup and tanning spray and stuff. God, Mom would’ve had a field day if she saw Liv and me with white hair looking like we haven’t seen the sun in years.” You laughed lightly, thinking about how your mother would react. She already thought Liv had thrown her life away; you suspected she would feel the same about you. “And I didn’t want to scare you off or something.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, zombies aren’t exactly a new thing to me.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s one thing to be friends or colleagues with a zombie. It’s an entirely different thing to date one. Just look at Liv and Major.” Ravi nodded, seeing your point. He sighed, grabbing your hands again.

“You still could’ve told me, love.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Immediately, Ravi clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No, don’t be sorry. I get it. It can be scary.” He squeezed your hands. “But now I know. And if anything, now I have even more reason to try to find a cure.” Ravi kissed your knuckles. “It’ll be okay.”

“Wait a minute. You’re okay with me being a zombie?” He looked confused, so you elaborated. “Because if you wanna break up because of it, that’s fine. I’d honestly get it if-”

“Who said anything about breaking up?” Ravi could’ve laughed at the thought itself. “Y/n, honey, you being undead isn’t a dealbreaker for me. I care about you too much to let a little thing like that get in the way.”

“Little?” The way Ravi spoke warmed your dead heart, but being half dead wasn’t exactly a little thing. “Ravi, I need to eat brains in order to survive.”

“I work in a morgue; you can get them the same way your sister does.”

“I don’t even care about food if it’s not covered in hot sauce or ghost peppers.”

“I’m fine with making two different meals for dinner.”

“Unless we find a cure or you don’t care about turning into a zombie, we can’t have sex. Ever.” That seemed to get through to Ravi, taking a sharp breath. You wondered if that would actually be a dealbreaker for him, and if you were about to walk out of this morgue broken hearted.

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it.” He answered, letting go of your hands to gently hold your face. “But for now, I’m completely fine with dating a zombie. Especially because it’s you. Even if it means we have to get a bit creative when we-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” You laughed, stopping him from finishing his sentence. “So, we’re good?”

“Always have been, honey.” You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him.

#ravi chakrabarti x reader #ravi chakrabarti #izombie #izombie x reader #agaypanic

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boltupbitches · 5 months

Text

Sliding in the DMs Part XVI

“Well… looks like we gotta face the music.” Arty mused, watching the scenery pass by on their drive from the airport to Joey’s place in Costa Mesa.

Joey just made a sound of acknowledgment and stayed quiet. His favorite Tame Impala album played lowly in the background as he kept his eyes on the road. His eyebrows were furrowed together, obviously from the stress of their marriage leaking and his family’s negative reaction to the news - mostly his father’s reaction.

Arty was exhausted too. Athena was still troubled with her but respected Arty’s wish to talk in person after the honeymoon. There was still no word yet from her parents. She was sure her mom would reach out at this most inopportune time for Arty. That’s how she rolled.

Being back in the US seemed to only magnify the amount of texts and voicemails Arty got. She kept her phone on silent and didn’t post a thing on social media during their honeymoon. After talking to her grandparents and texting Athena back, she got it out only to take pictures of the beautiful landscapes of Saint Barts, but that’s where it ended.

They tried their best to capitalize on what was left of their honeymoon, spending time lounging in the sun, swimming in the ocean, shopping, going out on a rental boat, collecting seashells, and exploring as much of the beautiful island as they could.

She was exhausted now, however, as she knew there was a shit storm coming their way whether they were ready to face it or not. And that shitstorm was Joey’s family.

Pulling into the driveway of his Costa Mesa home, Joey noticed right away the two rental cars parked in his driveway and immediately let out an aggravated, “fuck!”

Arty didn’t even flinch because she was too busy staring at the vehicles with a blank face.

Looks like it was time to face the storm head-on, then. No prep time at all.

Joey laid his head against the wheel before looking up again. He stared at Arty with tired eyes, his frown lines more pronounced and his brows furrowed in frustration.

Arty forced a smile and reached over to grip his hand on the steering wheel. He turned his hand over to grip hers and lifted it to press a kiss against the top of her hand. “We’re going to be ok,” She reassured gently. “Whatever happens, happen. Just know I’m here for you through it all and no one is going to chase me away from you, Joey. I love you.”

He smiled back at her for her words and leaned in to press a deep kiss to her lips, using his free hand to cup her cheek.

He pulled back and smiled at her once more, nerves still showed in his eyes, but he was also calmer now. “I love you too.”

He turned his eyes back to his house, seeing his brother, Nick, peek through the curtain at them blatantly with unimpressed eyes.

“What’s that fucking idiot staring at?” Joey grumbled as he glared back at his younger brother. “He better not say shit to me given what he’s been sneaking around doing.”

Arty laughed at that, “Well, I’m sure he’s probably here to support you, Joey. That or he upset my sister and he’s here for help. Our situation might be a cover for his romance issues.”

“Of course. Gonna sit back and let me get dog-piled on until he gets a moment alone to ask for relationship help. Like usual.” Joey rolled his eyes and stared at an amused Arty. “He bothered the shit out of me to help him with his ex, Jenna. As if I, a single man at the time, would be able to fix that train accident waiting to happen. Anyway, let’s get in there and get this over with. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can kick them all out and we can get some sleep.”

Arty nodded and exited the car with him.

Nick opened the door and stared at them with disapproving eyes. “Way to run off after getting married and leaving me to get grilled by every-fucking-person you know, Joey!”

“Shut up or get the fuck out, Nicky. I am about to get my ass grilled in there. So either stand aside and shut up, or go back to whatever hotel you have your ass staying at.” Joey said lowly.

Nick glared back. “Well fuck it.. Welcome back I guess.” He held his hand out for a shake and Joey instead pulled him into a hug, smacking his back roughly. Nick laughed at that and hugged him back. “Congrats, bro.”

They let go of one another and backed up. Nick lifted his eyes to his new sister-in-law and smiled. “Congratulations, Arty. Sorry that the last time we spoke it wasn’t on good terms.” He offered her a hug as well.

Arty grinned at him and accepted the hug, mimicking Joey’s action of tapping him hard on the back. “No problem, Nick. Just as I know you’d never want anything to happen to Joey, please know I’m always looking out for my little sister.” She said seriously as they backed up. “I gotta call her later today. How is she?”

Nick slumped slightly, a sad look taking over. “I don’t know she hasn’t spoken to me all week since the news of the wedding broke headlines. She still thinks I knew about this whole thing in advance and she’s hurt about it. Could… could you talk with her and clear this up? Cause goddamn it sucks to be iced out like this.” He rubbed his neck nervously, looking down before looking back up at Arty with a pleading look.

“And there it is,” Joey mused with a smirk as Arty grinned back at her husband. “Nick needs us to clear his name to get back in his lady’s arms.”

“Listen -” Nick started to say in his defense.

“Josephy Anthony Bosa get your ass in here!” His father’s voice boomed from the end of the hallway.

All three stared into the house, seeing a pissed-off John Bosa staring back. “Thanks for the welcome back, dad.” Joey shot him a patronizing smile.

Cheryl appeared in the hallway, a frustrated look on her face. “Can you not be a fucking asshole for two minutes, John? Just two? We are here for an intervention, not a fight.”

“An intervention?” Joey laughed at that. “A fucking intervention?” He ran his hand through his hair. “For what? Falling in love? Being happy? You do interventions for people spiraling, not when they’re doing something positive in their goddamn life!” He spat, already losing his temper from the shit-storm the last few days.

“Positive?” John smirked, “What’s so goddamn fucking positive about marrying the first skank you had a date with in LA?”

Joey moved to charge at him when Nick quickly reached out and wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, holding him back. “Call her that again, call my wife that again! You don’t know fucking shit about her or even me these days! We’ve been together for almost a year. Tell me, how long after dating mom did you knock her up with me without marrying her until I was 6, dad? Huh?”

“Don’t bring up shit you don’t understand Joey.” His dad dismissed. “Your mom and I both had money. Who is to say that she isn’t with you for the money?”

“Well maybe if you were more present in my life outside of football you would have met her already and learned that her parents are billionaires!” Joey argued back.

His parents stared at him in shock, taking a moment to glance at a nervous Arty who was standing back and out of the way.

“Doesn’t change anything.” John broke out of his thoughts first. “You wanna run off and play house, not focus on your game, ice your family out, and even your friends. How can you be so goddamn selfish all the time? The first pretty girl that gives you attention and you jump like a dog, Joseph. Love doesn’t win games or Super Bowl rings.”

“You would know, right?” Joey countered. “Because you were a master at both. Being a player and a family man, right?”

John said nothing.

“Since we are having an intervention about me and how disgraceful I am for finally putting my happiness first, let’s talk about the root of my goddamn problems. You, Dad. It’s you! You’re such an expert player but you were a draft bust even before fucking your legs up. You were just as much a shit dad because as soon as mom broke it off with you for cheating so many goddamn times, you were in and out of relationships with women that squandered your money. Then you burned investors in a nightclub and a gym Uncle Eric helped you build. You’ve capitalized off of connections more than anyone else I know. Maybe it’s you who was a broke ass that latched on to mom for money and connections 'cause we all know you wouldn’t be able to do shit without her connections.” Joey ranted, still being held firmly by Nick who was frowning heavily at the situation.

“You are a no-good, disrespectful fucking prick, Joseph. You’re so ungrateful for everything we have sacrificed for you. Your mother and I didn’t work out -”

“Because you are a quitter who didn’t want to try. You quit on our family and only came around when it was convenient. That’s the truth. If it wasn’t football, you weren’t interested. It’s always been on your terms. Funny that when you were selfish and put yourself first every single time, we were collateral. Your wife and kids! Yet, I meet the love of my life and we marry and suddenly it’s the worst thing in the world.” He paused to look at his mom and dad. “Newsflash: I love my wife. I love Artemis. She’s been through so much with me and I’ve never once felt like a failure when I’m with her. Even when I almost screwed our relationship up earlier on. She’s the best goddamn thing that’s happened to me and I won’t let you try to ruin that. Never.”

“So you’ll pick her over your family?” John asked in disbelief.

“I am picking to stand by my wife. Why is that considered picking her over you guys? Why do you want me to choose? If you seriously loved and cared about me like you say you do, you’d support me and my wife. I don’t see it as choosing one over another. I see it as if you’re upset and don’t want to support me - us, then there’s nothing I can do.”

Nick gently released his hold on his brother, stepping back, but keeping his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Well,” his dad rubbed his head, his face not impressed at all. “I guess then you know where I stand.” He walked past his sons and Artemis, not even giving her a look of acknowledgment. “Come talk to me when you’re done destroying your career.” He slammed the door shut after him.

They were all silent as they heard him fly out of the driveway in his rental.

“Joey…” His mother stepped forward. “He wasn’t supposed to react that way. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to come here and yell at you. I just wanted to talk.” She said to him gently, walking towards him and opening her arms to hug him.

He sighed loudly and accepted her hug, pressing his head into her shoulder as his shoulders started to shake.

Nick quietly approached and joined in on hugging the two as well, being sure to support his brother.

Arty stayed back, watching with tearful eyes as her husband cried in the arms of the only family that was currently supportive of him without prejudice.

She could tell his mom and brother loved him dearly. She couldn’t figure out where his dad stood with his feelings given how much of an asshole he was just now to Joey and how she had heard him on the phone prior, as well as what Joey had shared about him. He was toxic – she knew that for sure. And he seemed the same manipulative and dismissive tactics her mother used. It was painfully familiar to hear those words thrown at her husband.

She wanted to intervene, but she knew Joey needed to let it out. He needed to stand up in that moment for himself, not just her. She knew he needed to feel like he reclaimed authority over himself once more, something his dad often tried to take from him and his brother.

That was so obvious for anyone unlucky enough to encounter an angry John Bosa. He was demeaning and cruel. Looking for weak points and doing his best to capitalize on them in that moment.

She was certain now, after meeting him, that she’d be ready for his antics next time.

There was no way in hell she was going to let John wreck his son’s marriage to her.

It would be a cold day in hell before that happened.

—--------

"So, you're the woman my son has been dating and is now married to?" Cheryl asked with an indiscernible tone. "While this isn't an ideal situation," she sighed and rubbed her temples, the glass of wine in front of her half-drank, "I'm glad to know Joey has been happy and not alone."

Both women were sitting on the patio chairs outside. Nick and Joey were speaking privately downstairs.

Cheryl was friendly to her, albeit reserved. They made polite chit-chat as Arty got them something to drink.

As soon as they settled outside, Arty knew Cheryl wanted to talk. Woman to woman.

“I am,” Arty confirmed. “I know this situation isn’t ideal… I don’t think Joey and I ever imagined a year ago that we’d be here today, but we are.” She took a sip of her wine.

Cheryl stayed quiet, letting her have the chance to finish speaking.

“It was never about hurting anyone by keeping it a secret. Neither of us asked the other to do so with our families. We were in a bubble of just the two of us for so long. Nick knew that we were seeing each other, but didn’t know the full extent. My sister, Athena, knew just as much as he did. Before we knew it, time had passed. We took a trip to Greece to see my maternal grandparents. I had no idea Joey was going to propose to me.” She stared out towards the oceanfront view they had. “And again, we ended up just not finding the right time to announce it to people. Except for our siblings, no one knew about us. So, introducing your partner who then becomes your fiance became intimidating. So again, it was put off.”

Arty was quiet once more. “We never did it intending to hurt anyone. I know the two of us, Joey and I, we both have personal circumstances surrounding family relationships. What happened with his dad this evening... I dealt with that with my mom. So, again, we leaned into each other and our habits of keeping things to ourselves.”

“Do you regret it?” Cheryl asked.

“Marrying him? No never.” Arty said firmly.

“No, not that, I mean, do you regret not sharing that you guys were dating and meeting each other’s families?” Cheryl sipped her wine, studying Arty’s expression.

“I don’t regret it,” Arty said. “Because living with regret and dwelling on what could have been won’t fix the situation at hand we currently have. I am sorry that it caused hurt for people. That was never our intention, but to regret how we got engaged and then married would be a lie. I like to believe things happen for a reason. Where we are now is where we are. We make do with the situation at hand.” Arty mused.

Cheryl nodded at that, taking in what Arty was saying. “I can respect that. Joey… he’s always been the child I worried the most about because of his heart. He wears it more openly. Even with how tall, strong, and serious he looks at times, you know like I do that he’s a gentle-hearted man most of the time. He loves wholeheartedly too. I was worried when I found out about all of this. Joey has gone through phases of being open with his emotions, then bottling them and hiding them away. At times it has made it hard to sit back and wait for him to express himself because he lets his self-doubts cloud him and drag him under.”

Arty was thinking of quite a few occasions where she had witnessed that first-hand. “I noticed that quite a few times too. He’s gotten better though, on leaning on me for support instead of hiding it away. We almost broke up before we even became official because he was afraid of facing what he was feeling. We’ve moved passed that now and he’s doing much better - at least with me.”

“I’m glad,” Cheryl said. “I think a lot of his reservation in sharing with me is that I’m his mom.. And maybe there’s an aspect of him wanting to be independent and not rely on me so much as an adult. I respect that. It’s how our mother-son relationship is. I’m glad that with you as his wife, he has felt comfortable in sharing with you and leaning on you for support.”

She sighed before continuing, “This was supposed to be a moment where we could get answers and talk. I regret inviting John along and giving him any benefit of the doubt that he could respectfully handle this without going straight into fighting with Joey. He still can’t be the adult in the room in any situation where he’s not in control.” She rolled her eyes at that. “I will always do my best to support my sons. Joey, he’s my firstborn, and just like with his brother, we share a unique bond that you’ll also someday feel when or if you have children. And while I am a little disappointed and hurt he didn’t feel like he could trust me enough to let me meet you sooner, I do trust his judgment and I am glad we can now get to know one another.” Cheryl smiled at her.

Arty smiled back, feeling relief seep over her at Cheryl’s willingness to build a relationship with her. “Thank you so much. Please know, Cheryl, that I would never do a thing to hurt Joey. Ever. I love him so much and I plan to for the rest of my life.”

Cheryl nodded at that, smiling once more at her. “A lifetime is a long time, but I believe that Joey’s found the one. Nick had mentioned to me how happy and relaxed Joey had been from the conversations they had. I noticed that too before all of this came to light. Like I said, I trust his judgment. He’s not the type to make rash decisions without feeling confident and strongly that it’ll work out. So,” Cheryl lifted her glass. “Welcome to the Bosa-Kumerow family. I’m so sorry our first meeting was us watching my ex-husband be an asshole. Just know that there will likely be more arguments to come. Lots of hotheads on both sides of the family. Just hold your own and don’t let anyone scare you off!”

“Welcome to the family!” Cheryl toasted to Arty.

They laughed and clanked glasses together, both taking a big drink of their wine.

“Glad to know you’re getting my wife wine drunk, mom.” Joey joked from the doorway.

Both turned and smiled at the man as he walked on out. “Well, I wanted her to feel more welcomed. I brought some wine if you want some, Joey.” His mom offered him.

“Nah, I’m good right now.” He took a seat next to Arty and leaned over to peck her cheek, making her giggle with his beard tickled her cheek. “Came out to join you guys. Nick’s on the phone, but should be out soon. I had to help him with a situation.”

“Is he ok?” Chery asked with concern, “I know he had some issue going on with how stressed he’s been.”

“Yeah, just a girl he was seeing was mad at him because he’s a dumbass. So I was helping him come up with an apology to get back on her good side.”

“Nick’s seeing someone?” Cheryl asked. “He didn’t say anything to me about it and he tells me everything.”

Joey turned towards a confused Arty, “It’s true. He’s a huge mama’s boy. Always been and always will be.”

“Joey.” Cheryl chided, but couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face.

“He is. It’s no secret. But yeah, that’s for him to share. I’m not in the mood for dealing with his whining if I share anymore.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll get him to tell me later. Now,” She turned towards them. “Tell me where you went for your honeymoon.”

Arty started to share the details of what Joey and she arranged at last-minute notice. Joey stayed quiet mostly through it, just interjecting a few times to correct or confirm something. He was too busy staring at his wife as she excitedly pulled her phone out to show Cheryl the beautiful scenery she captured on her phone.

Joey loved how expressive she could be at times. She was silly and loved to have fun. She was more sociable than him, but could also be cool, calm, and collected when need be. She was entrancing to him and he knew others felt that way around her too. Artemis Bosa made him feel loved and she loved to show it. At that moment, he truly believed he was the luckiest man on Earth by getting to marry her. He couldn’t imagine his life now without her.

He was thankful he chose that day to slide in her DMs. Who could believe online gaming and social media would lead him to meet the love of his life?

#Joey bosa fanfiction #Joey Bosa fanfic #sliding in the DMs #SDMs #Joey Bosa Imagines #Joey Bosa imagine

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tinyarmedtrex · 11 months

Note

Fake dating/accidental sexting

Hey, better late than never right? This is also for the weekly prompt from @i-can-read-to-him

“Last chance to back out.” Jesper said, pulling into an empty parking spot.

“I’m not the one who wants to back out.” Wylan said as he tugged at his jacket. “You’re sure I look okay?”

“Yes Wylan, you look amazing.”

Wylan swallowed. Jesper’s voice had gotten softer as he’d said that and it made Wylan’s stomach flip. He forced himself to look away so Jesper didn’t see his blush. Jesper would have said that to anyone in the passenger’s seat, that’s just who he was. Wylan wasn’t special.

The two got out of the car and Jesper slipped his hand into Wylan’s. “We need to sell it after all.” He said as an explanation. Wylan opted to only nod. He couldn’t trust his voice.

Jesper whistled as they entered the country club, “Damn, they went all out.”

“They really did.” The room they’d entered was decorated with fairy lights and flowers. Wylan could see at least a dozen waiters walking around with trays of food.

Wylan spared a glance at Jesper. The wedding was for one of his cousins and Jesper was had been having a lot of feelings about it. After today, he was the last single cousin and his family wouldn’t let him forget it. They’d offered multiple times to set him up with someone and each time he refused. It all came to a head when his aunt said she had the perfect wedding date for him and his reply had been that he already had a date, his boyfriend.

Of course, the issue there was that Jesper didn’t actually have a boyfriend. He’d been complaining to Wylan about his predicament when Wylan had offered to go as his date.

“People always think we’re dating anyway,” Wylan had said as he’d taken a pot off the stove. Jesper had been at his apartment, a place he spent most of his free time, and Wylan was making them dinner.

“Wonder why.” Jesper commented as Wylan scooped pasta onto his plate.

“It’s hard to cook for just one.” Wylan muttered. Jesper had just chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Wylan’s head. A casual gesture but one that made Wylan’s heart race.

Things had moved fast after that. Wylan had picked the fish dish, so he and Jesper could try both options, and then he’d had his suit dry cleaned. Before he knew it Jesper was picking him up outside his apartment and driving them to the ceremony, which had been mercifully short. The easy part was now over. The reception was the trust test. Jesper had prepped Wylan for invasive questions and lots of hugging.

“We can do this.” Wylan said as he squeezed Jesper’s hand. “It’s just four hours. And there’s an open bar.”

Jesper shook his head affectionately. “Look at you, being optimistic. I love it.” Then he threw his shoulders back. “Okay, let’s get this started.” They finished crossing into the party and almost immediately a family member approached, asking how long they’d been together and crooning about lovely it was that Jesper was finally settling down. Jesper took it all in stride, smiling and saying that it had taken someone like Wylan to tie him down. Wylan had felt himself flush.

This continued happening throughout dinner. Jesper’s family was all lovely and shared his lack of social graces. Wylan had never been asked so many questions that turned his whole face bright red.

Then the dancing started. Jesper had whisked him to the dance floor and everyone melted away except for the two of them. Jesper’s long arms wrapped around Wylan, holding him close as they danced.

And that was when Wylan made an excuse to leave. It was all too much. Having Jesper’s arms on him, how they’d been leaning into each other all night, how Jesper had insisted on feeding Wylan his cake. Wylan needed a moment to catch his breath, to remind himself that none of this was real.

Wylan went outside to the balcony, which was mercifully empty. Then he pulled out his phone and saw he had several missed notifications. Some were from Nina, telling him to make a move on Jesper. Others were from Inej, telling him to have fun. Then finally one was from a hook up app he’d joined. He hadn’t met anyone from the app yet but he’d been messaging several people.

He glanced around again. It was dangerous to listen to the note here but he didn’t wait to wait. The guy had a way with words, his messages always sent a tingle down Wylan’s spine. Wylan had no idea how much of what the guy told him was true but he really didn’t care. All he wanted was for someone to want him.

Confirming that he was alone Wylan hit ‘play’ on the converted voice note, feeling himself blush as he listened. The man certainly was inventive. Wylan opened his recorder to reply.

“Love your ideas baby. I’ve dreamt about having your tongue on me, how it would feel to have you take me apart. Tell me what other ideas you have.”

Wylan hit send before he could second guess the message. He may be here with Jesper but that was just for tonight. Tomorrow they would go back to being just friends.

The reply came faster than he expected. Wylan hit play.

“You want ideas?” The automated voice read to him. “You have no idea what I’ve thought about doing to you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages but that’s just the start. You’re sure you want to hear them?”

Wylan frowned. It was unusual for this guy to check in, usually he just whatever he was thinking.

“I’ve been waiting all night to hear them.’

Again, the reply came uncharacteristically quick.

‘I want to push you against a wall and kiss you senseless. I want to throw you on top of your purple bedspread and crawl onto you, pushing my body against yours. I want everything with you.”

Wylan’s eyes grew wide. He’d never sent a picture of his bedroom, let alone his bedspread. He quickly check who he’d been messaging with.

Wylan’s blood ran cold as Jesper’s name glowed bright at the top of his screen.

Fuck fuck fuck

He nearly dropped his phone, trying to figure out how to undo what he’d done. He’d fucked everything up.

“This is bad. This is bad.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“I hope that comment isn’t about my spelling.” A voice called from behind him.

Wylan turned to see Jesper standing in the doorway.

“No- I - it’s not-” Wylan stammered. He could feel himself flushing down to his bellybutton as he tried to string words together. “I thought you were someone else.”

Jesper strode towards him, stopping in front of Wylan. “Another fake date? I saw one of my uncles checking you out.”

“No. Um-” Wylan pointed to his phone. “The messages.”

Jesper physically deflated in front of him. “Oh, that makes more sense. I probably should have figured that out. I thought it was an uncharacteristic way for you to confess your feelings.” He started to step back but Wylan reached for him.

“Wait.” Wylan blinked, trying to put everything together. “You thought- you thought I was confessing my feelings?”

Jesper looked away. “No. Maybe. I had hoped the romance of tonight, the dancing- it’s stupid.”

Wylan rushed forward and took Jesper’s hands in his own. His heart was pounding but he forced himself to say the next part. “Jesper yes, I want that. With you.”

Jesper still looked skeptical so Wylan took Jesper’s face in his hands. “I’ve wanted that with you for years” He continued. “But I never thought you would want me.”

“Wylan,” Jesper shook his head. “How could I not want you? I assumed you didn’t want me. ”

Wylan chuckled. They really were meant for each other. “Jesper, how could I not fall for you? Look at you.”

Jesper’s wiggled his eyebrows them looked Wylan over slowly. “Look at yourself. Especially in that suit.”

Wylan smiled, fighting this blush. “Should we go back to the party? Prove to your family that you can land a boyfriend?”

Jesper shook his head, his hands curling on Wylan’s hips. “I’d rather stay out here and talk more about those texts.”

“Just talk?” He teased.

“No, not just talking.” Jesper said, dipping his head to bring their lips together. They didn’t make it back inside for a long time.

#wesper #wylan x jesper #so this got long #but one cant rush prompts #especially a good one like this!!#thank you for sending <3 #tinyarmedtwrites

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mysticnightmarewrites · 6 months

Text

Gendrya Kinktober 2023 Day 14: Rough Sex

It started when they heard thumping on the wall Gendry shared with Pod.

“Is that Pod?” Arya asked sleepily, lifting her head off of Gendry’s chest.

“Looks like someone’s getting lucky at 2 a.m. Should we go over there and tell him we’re trying to prep for finals?”

“You’re so bad, Gendry Waters.”

“If you say so.” In one smooth motion, Gendry rolled over on top of her.

His naked skin pressing into hers sent a pulse of want through her, and suddenly going back to sleep seemed not as important anymore.

“Am I getting lucky now?” Arya asked, sliding her thigh up his side.

“You’re always lucky, Arry. You met me, didn’t you?”

There was something about the normally self-conscious man when he started getting cocky that really did it for Arya. She slid her hands over his muscled back, only for Gendry to push them back over her head, pinning them to the headboard.

“Shame I lost those handcuffs,” he said, starting to trail kisses down her neck. “You’ll just have to be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

“When have I ever been a good girl?”

Her words seemed to light a fire in him. He straddled her then and moved up her body, his cock hanging over her mouth, the tip just brushing her lips.

“If you’re so bad, suck it then.”

Arya wrapped her lips around the head, and Gendry slid it in faster than she expected, but he pulled it back just as quickly, giving her a chance to breathe.

Every thrust into her mouth seemed to match the unrelenting rhythm of the thumping coming from the other side of the wall.

It didn’t feel like he could get any deeper into her throat when he finally pulled away.

Knowing exactly what he wanted and eager to have his cock inside her, Arya turned over onto her hands and knees. Her throat was sore, and she couldn’t wait to be sore in other places.

The sound had stopped, and all Arya could hear was her own labored breathing.

Gendry brought his tip to her entrance, playing with her clit, getting her wetter and wetter for him. It wasn’t until the pounding returned that he slammed inside her.

“You like hearing Pod fuck, don’t you?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Yes.” It came out almost imperceptibly with a moan as he gripped her hips and pulled her back into him with all the force he knew she could take.

“Bet you’ve been thirsting for him since the day he came over to tell us to be quiet because we were fucking too loud. Bet you liked how worked up we got him.”

Every word seemed to drive Gendry wilder and wilder, and he fucked into her so hard, she had to grab onto the headboard for dear life.

“Looks like the cam guy.” Gendry slowed and held Arya’s hips tight, not allowing for the slight chance his cock could slip out. “The hair. His shoulders. I keep watching him and pretending it’s Pod. I can’t take it.”

Arya grabbed Gendry’s phone from his table and quickly brought up his OnlyBrans account and started playing the livestream that was currently running on his favorite account, and set it to silent so Gendry could still hear the sound of Pod either fucking someone into oblivion or being fucked into oblivion himself.

Gendry’s eyes were glued to the screen, but his hands were still glued to her as he started rocking into her once again. As much as she knew he was picturing Pod’s body and all the things he wanted to do to him, watching the cam guy getting absolutely wrecked by a man whose face was just out of the shot, he needed her. Arya had come to realize she liked being needed.

Every thrust, both on the screen and within herself, drove her higher alongside him, and she also started picturing Pod the way Gendry saw him. The pounding sound on the other side of the door seemed to match the thrusting on screen, driving her imagination wild. For a moment, she thought about what it’d be like if Pod was the one fucking her, what it would be like if the guy in the livestream, who was furiously rubbing his cock while being fucked from behind, was fucking her.

“Break me, Gendry,” she begged, pushing back harder and harder into him, and Gendry started pounding into her with more force than he ever had before, his fingers leaving bruises all along her ribs and hips.

Suddenly, the cam guy’s face came into camera for the very first time. “Fuck!” Gendry shouted, spilling his seed inside Arya, as he looked straight into the face of his neighbor.

Arya came, only realizing she hadn’t been imagining Pod’s face once the pleasure had finished wracking through her body.

“Is that Pod?”

#arya x gendry #gendrya #gendrya kinktober #kinktober 2023 #gendrya kinktober 2023 #arya stark #gendry #kinktober

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pb-littleverse · 8 months

Note

hii!! could you do one with little!heejin and hyunjin, because they’re both in different girl groups now and both feel miserable not being able to see each other as much

-🦦

Thank you for the ask! We’re really cooking with the ARTMS/Loossemble dynamics, aren’t we?

I split this into two parts, since I took the angst route and didn’t end up letting them reunite yet >:)

little!Hyunjin's Part 2 here!

LOONA was overwhelming sometimes. Having eleven sisters running amok could drive anyone to their wit’s end, given enough time.

And yet, half a decade after their debut, settling into a new dorm and under a new group’s banner, Heekkie misses almost everyone.

She misses tussling with her Sooyoung unnie. She misses tea parties with Yeojinnie, and she misses watching Chaewon and Hyeju get funny when arguing over who gets to use the Switch.

She misses day trips to the river with her OEC caregivers, even now that they’re only just upstairs. She misses Jungeun’s funny noises and Yerim’s ear-to-ear smiles. She even misses Jinsol’s dumb jokes.

But most of all, Heekkie misses having an equally-spirited playmate, her Aeongie. No one else has ever been so eager to compete with her. Whether they were arm wrestling, or abruptly learning to juggle within an evening, or having their countless, unyielding staring contests, Aeongie always knew how to raise the stakes.

She misses bouncing around on furniture, playing “the floor is lava,” and trying to shove each other off balance. She misses sugar crashes, and falling asleep on the living room floor, and she misses getting tucked in to bed together by Kahei or Haseul.

When they played knights, Aeongie could just as easily switch from the role of her pretty princess to a fire-breathing dragon. Heekkie would find a reason to bonk her on the head with her cardboard tube sword regardless. Both would laugh every time.

Now, after everything they did to prepare for the ARTMS/Loossemble split, with everything they fought and triumphed for, the dust is finally settling, and Heekkie is left almost alone.

And despite everything, the one person she has left is the one person she can’t seem to get rid of.

While Heekkie is trying to spend another afternoon sulking in her room, Haseul warbles out her name in a cheery singing voice before knocking on her bedroom door.

Heekkie says nothing. Her face scrunches up against her pillow as Haseul breaches the sanctity of her room. Knowing that Haseul isn’t one to be ignored, she steels herself and turns to her.

She has her hair knotted back, likely meal-prepping another week of freezer dinners, and is smiling like she’s oblivious to Heekkie’s bad mood.

“What I said was, tonight is movie night, bunny!” she beams, displaying a fanned array of DVD cases as though they were a hand of cards.

Of course. Just like it was movie night yesterday and the day before.

Heekkie just groans. There’s a bitter, whiny bite to the sound, but Haseul acts none the wiser.

“I was thinking Rise of the Guardians, with the bunny you like,” she chirps. Heekkie lets the disgruntled look on her face speak for her, and Haseul finally starts to look her up and down.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers. “Am I being too loud?”

But Heekkie isn’t in the mood for any of it. She bears her teeth in a snarl and throws herself back down on her bed, arms crossed.

“Well, we don’t have to do movie night,” Haseul says. A pensive shimmer runs across her face. Heekkie thinks she’s close to getting the hint, but then she carries on.

“I could do your nails again! I restocked on some of your favorites, and we could match? Do you remember how Mama used to do your nails? And Aeongie’s?”

At the mention of Aoengie, Heekkie tenses up. But Haseul giggles airily and keeps poking the bear.

“But Aeongie would always smudge hers before they were dry! Do you remember?” her laughter this time is so forced, Heekkie wants to kick the frame of her bed to make her stop. A throaty growl leaves her as she turns her back on Haseul and puts her hands over her ears.

It’s too much. Too much doting, and too much trying to pretend that everything is fine. Heekkie braces herself, waiting for Haseul to say the next airheaded thing to try and make her leave this room.

But Haseul only sighs. Heekkie doesn’t flinch when the weight of her sitting down drops onto the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and the sudden vulnerability makes her heart flush with anxiety. Remorse paints Heekkie’s features, but she’s still tucked up against the edge of the bed and the wall. Heekkie was mean to Mama. She–

“I just…” Haseul trails off, running a hand through her hair before shaking her head. “I always knew I was blessed, having eleven perfect girls to take care of, to be needed by. And I just…”

Haseul swallows hard, and Heekkie expects that she’s fending off tears.

“I wasn’t ready to see that number go down to one. I never could have been ready. And now, all I can think, everyday, is just how much I can’t stand the thought of losing you too.”

Heekkie sniffles. When she sees Haseul’s hand hovering above her shoulder, she gives the silent nod of confirmation, touch is okay.

“I know I’ve been smothering you, Heekkie.” Haseul’s hand is cool and gentle, rubbing circles into her back. “I miss them too. But I’m going to give you your space now, okay?”

But it’s not okay. Something frantic hatches in Heekkie as Haseul gets up to leave.

“I’ll be… I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Wait.” Heekie croaks out, drawing Haseul’s hand back and draping her arm over the top of her. “Mama stay?”

Haseul nestles into bed and presses gently against her back.

“Mama will stay,” she whispers, kissing the top of her head. “Always.”

#kpop agere #age regression #agere loona #loona heejin #loona haseul #request #anon 🦦

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rabbiteclair · 10 months

Text

oh yeah, originally the central conceit of that story was gonna be that it was a collection of encounters they had while taking a multi-day trip to try finding the ocean. I ended up scrapping that, since some of these chapters just don't work with that kinda thing, but not before I wrote a prologue about Kozakura yelling at them

so hey, why not, here (the completely rough draft of) it is. Not like I'm ever gonna use it somewhere else.

“So, you’re really going to do this, huh?”

Kozakura’s voice, coming from the doorway to her house, caught me by surprise. I looked back, squinting to shield my eyes. The rising sun was behind her, casting long shadows over her already-dark expression.

She looked even less prepared to go out than usual, wearing her usual t-shirt and spats, but with messy hair, a pair of fuzzy slippers, and an oversized cup of soda. She looked out at the world with a bleary expression as she took a sip.

“Sorry,” Toriko said. “We didn’t wake you up, did we?”

“Other direction. I’m going to bed in a few.” Kozakura took another sip of her soda, then: “But you’re dodging the question.”

Between us, the AP-1 was sitting on the grass of Kozakura’s front lawn. Normally, we tried not to bring it over into the surface world—the less attention that people paid to her house the better, considering all the weird stuff we got up to—but this early in the morning, we thought it would be fine.

Besides, we had a good reason for it this time. The AP-1 was carrying the biggest load that we’d ever asked it to handle for us. The top rack was piled high with jugs of water, our collapsed tent, waterproof cases of clothes and toiletries, a toolbox, and loose tools like our ax. The smaller holding racks to the sides were carrying everything that we might want in a hurry while driving around—our guns, binoculars, bolts, reflective poles, a first aid kit, ponchos, and our food prep stuff. We’d even used the center arch for storage, hanging two rolled-up sleeping bags from it with hooks and bungee cords. Seeing it loaded up like that made me feel proud about our decision to buy it. Our cute little AP-1 was a hard worker.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the soreness out of my hands after loading so much on there. “It’s kinda late to back out now. Besides, we’re not doing anything we’ve never done before, right? We already took an overnight trip once.”

Kozakura tipped her cup toward me in lieu of pointing. “It was a dumb idea then, too.”

“Come on, Kozakura,” Toriko said. “How else are we gonna find out what’s out there? We’ve got most of the stuff within a few hours of the gates mapped already.”

Kozakura stared us down, like she was expecting us to relent. When we didn’t, she sighed and drained the rest of her cup. “All right. If your hearts are set on this, at least tell me where you’ll be going. That way, when I have to send a search and rescue team in after you, they’ll know where to start looking for the bodies.”

“East,” I said.

“East? That’s it?”

“Straight east. … well, not straight east. Compasses are kind of unreliable over there. But the plan was that we’d drive right toward the rising sun, and try to go in a straight line. That way we have a pretty universal gauge of our direction, right?”

“If you can expect the sun to follow the laws of nature over there, at least. That’s it? Just driving east?”

Toriko and I exchanged a glance.

“Um…” she said.

“… pretty much, yeah,” I said. “We’ve explored the area between this gate and the Jinbouchou one pretty well, and we’ve gone north and south a bit, but… we’ve never been east of that skeletal building.”

“Well, I have, a bit. I went that way some when I was looking for Satsuki. But that was before I met Sorawo, so I was nervous about even getting out of sight of that building…”

“And what,” Kozakura said, “could possibly be over there that’s worth an overnight expedition?”

“The ocean.” I paused to weather the withering expression that Kozakura was shooting toward me. “… I mean, it’s kind of weird, right? Jinbouchou is only a few kilometers from the bay, but we’ve never seen any sign of it. There aren’t even that many rivers over there. We know there’s an ocean in the Otherside though, so…”

“If you head straight east of there, I'm not sure if you’d hit the bay. It might be a bit to the north of it.”

“Close enough though, right?” Toriko said. “We should be within a kilometer or two, so we should be able to see it unless we’re in a valley or something. If we hit a river and follow it for a bit, that should take us there too.”

“If it exists. Otherwise you’re just wandering off into the wilderness chasing a river.”

“We’ll be planting reflective poles,” I assured her. “And we put a spotlight on that skeletal building, so we can see it from kilometers away. We both have class on Wednesday, so if we haven’t found it by the end of the second day, we’ll start driving back on the third. It should be a lot quicker after we’ve marked out the route.”

Kozakura sighed again and crossed her arms, giving us a look like a stern parent. “Three and a half days. If you’re not back by then, I’ll start planning your funeral.”

“Just one?” Toriko said.

“We won’t have bodies to dispose of, so we can combine the ceremonies.” She shot us another surly look, but her posture relaxed. In a somewhat less sardonic tone, she added, “… come back in one piece, okay? I’d tell you not to do anything stupid or dangerous, but you’re already doing that by default.”

“We’ll be fine, Kozakura. Promise.” Toriko shot her an encouraging smile. “Oh! How about we try to bring you back a souvenir?”

“Yeah, just stop in at the Otherside gift shop on your way back.”

“I mean it! If we find… I don’t know, something nice, we’ll bring it back for you.”

“Something nice,” Kozakura repeated after her, in a tone dripping with doubt.

“Yeah, you know! Like…”

Toriko trailed off, then looked to me for help.

Why would I know?! You’re the one who brought it up.

Besides, weren’t most souvenirs regional delicacies and stuff? I didn’t feel like we were going to find anything like that over there…

“You can have our leftover survival meals?” I offered weakly.

“No, you know what? If I’m going to be stressing out about you two for half a week, I do want a souvenir. Something nice. Don’t disappoint me here, or I’m going to pay some thugs to throw you into the real Tokyo Bay.”

She sure was fast to flip between concern and death threats.

“It’s a deal,” Toriko said. “Something nice. I think it’ll be fun! A little concrete goal we can think about while we’re exploring. Like a scavenger hunt.”

Judging by Kozakura’s expression, her opinion of us was currently at the lowest that it had ever been in her life.

“Yeah, sure.” She turned to face back into the house, and shot us a dismissive wave over her shoulder. “I’m going to bed. Don’t die. Good night.”

“Kozakura, it’s six A—”

I was cut off by Kozakura’s door slamming in our faces. A moment later, the click of the lock.

“Well,” Toriko said. “… I guess we should get going, huh?”

#rabbit does fanfiction #otherside picnic

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icemavs · 6 months

Text

Springsteen (pt. 1)

Link to previous chapter: 1 Chapter 2 (5.5k, T, ao3)

Bradley had been officially dating Jake for almost a whole month, and he made sure everyone knew it. He held Jake’s hand in the hallways at school, Jake was always over at Bradley’s house, Bradley attending every single one of Jake’s wrestling matches. They were happy.

Bradley was getting a little anxious with the upcoming Christmas season. Mav had said he was going to San Diego and he needed Bradley to decide as soon as possible what his plans were. Bradley didn’t want to invite himself over to Jake’s parent’s house for the holiday, seeing as he’d never met them and Jake still didn’t really talk about them much outside of complaining about his father. But he also didn’t want to leave Jake for the holidays.

They had been sitting in Bradley’s room, working on Jake’s latest physics assignment when Bradley brought it up.

“Jake, what are your plans for the holidays?” he asked, not looking up from the textbook.

“I guess I don’t really know,” Jake replied. “Why? What are yours?”

Bradley shook his head and still didn’t look up. “I’m not really sure. Mav said he’s going to San Diego to see Ice, but I don’t really like flying around the holidays.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “And I don’t want to leave you,” he finished softly.

“B, are you saying you want to meet my parents and stay with us for Christmas?” Jake asked, putting a hand on the side of Bradley’s face to finally tilt it up.

“Kind of?” Bradley said, pitching his voice up as if he was asking a question. “I don’t want to stay home alone, but you never really talk about your family or anything so I don’t want to intrude and I can just go with Mav it will be fi-” Jake cut Bradley off with a kiss.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, pulling back and smiling. “You’re rambling when you’re anxious.”

Bradley felt a flush creep up his cheeks and let a small smile grace his lips. God, he really liked Jake, and how he made him feel. He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him, if only for a few days.

Jake must have noticed his lingering hesitance. “You can come and stay with me over Christmas,” he continued. “As long as you need.”

“Thank you, Jake,” Bradley said, his smile growing to crinkle his eyes.

They went back to studying for a few more hours, Jake leaving to head home, blaming early practice the next morning for his departure. Once he was gone, Bradley burst into the kitchen where Mav was sitting with an aircraft manual open on the counter, no doubt prepping for his next class after his short break.

“Mav, I’m not going to San Diego,” he declared.

Mav looked up, startled. “Okay?” he questioned. “Any particular reason?”

“I’m going to meet Jake’s parents,” he said with an air of finality, but he could hear the wavering anxiety in his voice.

“That’s great, Bradley,” Mav replied, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll only be gone for three days, so you know, if anything happens, you just come straight home, okay?”

Bradley looked at him, confused by his response, but he chose to ignore it. It was probably just Mav being overprotective, nothing for Bradley to worry about.

A week later, Bradley jumped in the car with Jake after packing a few sets of clothes to spend the next few days over at Jake’s house. He bounced his leg nervously in the passenger seat until Jake reached a hand over to rest it on his thigh. Bradley looked over and smiled at Jake, resting his own hand on top of Jake’s where it remained for the rest of the short drive.

Once they pulled into the driveway, Jake put the car in park and immediately turned to Bradley.

“Listen, B,” he started. “My parents don’t know we’re a couple.”

Bradley balked at him. “They what?”

“I know I should have told you this sooner, but I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he said. “They won’t care if we sleep in the same room or the same bed, but we just can’t be super handsy around them.”

Bradley nodded slowly. “So I’m just a friend who’s not-dad was leaving for the holiday, and you invited me over?” he asked.

“Yes exactly,” Jake confirmed. “My dad can be a little homophobic. That’s why I’m not out to them. I don’t really know what they would say.”

“Got it. I will be on my best behavior,” Bradley said and gave Jake a mocking salute.

Jake leaned in for one last kiss before they walked inside the house together. When they got in, Bradley was immediately ambushed by a large Golden Retriever.

“That’s Goose,” Jake said, laughing as he pulled the dog from Bradley.

When he heard the name, Bradley froze. “Goose?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said, slowly setting his backpack on the floor and leaning down to untie his shoes. “Why?”

“Um, nothing,” Bradley started. He was about to speak again when a woman, he assumed it was Jake’s mother, walked into the entryway. “I’ll tell you later,” he finished under his breath.

“Hi, you must be Bradley,” Jake’s mother said. “I’m June, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad you’re here with us.” She walked over to give Bradley a big hug and ruffle Jake’s hair. Jake groaned in protest and tried his best to smooth his hair back down. Bradley wished he wouldn’t, he looked hot with his hair all messed up, but he kept his words to himself, since he was supposed to be acting straight.

“Hi, Mrs. Seresin,” Bradley said as he returned the hug.

Once greetings with Jake’s present siblings were exchanged, Jake and Bradley made their way to the basement to drop off Bradley’s bags in Jake’s bedroom.

“So,” Bradley started. “This is where the famous Jake Seresin spends his time when he’s not at my house.” He was looking around the room to take it all in. It was a modest size, as was the rest of the house. The walls were plastered with posters of athletes, the ones that Bradley knew were Jake’s favorites. There was a closet that was filled to the brim with clothes and football gear, stored away for the rest of the year.

Jake was standing near the doorway, hands in his pockets and looking slightly uncomfortable.

Bradley frowned at him and took the few steps it was to stand in front of Jake. “What’s the matter?” he asked, starting to reach his hands out to put them on Jake’s face before thinking better of it. Instead he tapped Jake on the chest, letting the last of the taps linger a second.

Jake shook his head slightly. “Nothing, it’s just…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor. After a beat and a big sigh, he lifted his head to look Bradley in the eyes. “I wish I could hold your hand in front of my parents without being scared that they’re going to disown me or something stupid.” Bradley could see tears dancing on the edges of Jake’s eyes.

“Oh, Jake,” Bradley sighed. He pulled him into a big hug while reaching behind Jake to shut the door slightly. “I will never understand what that feels like, but just know that if anything ever does happen, you always have a place with us. Always.” Bradley paused to think if he should say what he was thinking out loud. Fuck it. “I love you, okay?”

Jake pulled back from the hug but stayed in Bradley’s arms. His eyes were lit up, wet from the tears that never fell, but crinkled at the corners from the smile that was growing on his face. “You love me?” he asked.

“Yeah, Jake,” Bradley said. “No one has ever made me feel as good as you do, and I guess, maybe, I don’t know, it’s a little early to say anything, and we’re still in high sch–.” Jake leaned in to press a soft kiss to Bradley’s lips.

“B, you’re doing it again.” He kissed Bradley’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

Bradley cracked a smile and closed his arms even tighter around Jake’s middle, Bradley’s heart thrumming with joy. “This is the best Christmas ever,” he said into Jake’s hair. Bradley couldn’t believe he was falling this hard, this fast, for this boy. There was no one that would be able to replace him.

Later that night, Bradley was the happiest he had ever felt holding Jake close while music played quietly from Jake’s stereo. He traced a hand up the side of Jake’s arm and listened to the soft hums coming from Jake in time with the music.

“B?” Jake asked. “What was it you were gonna tell me earlier? When you met Goose?”

If he was being honest, Bradley had almost forgotten about that. “You know how I call Mav and Ice, well, Mav and Ice?” he started. “It’s their callsign that they earned during their first assignment as pilots.”

“Yes, Bradley, I know what callsigns are,” Jake said, tilting his head up to press a small kiss on the underside of Bradley’s jaw. “What does that have to do with this?” “Well, Goose was my dad’s,” Bradley said simply. Jake shifted so he was resting on his elbows, now facing Bradley. “It was his dad’s nickname for him when he was little, and the older pilots got a hold of that information when he got to the squadron and it was voted as his callsign with overwhelming majority.” He paused to think of Mav telling him the story. “At least that’s what Mav tells me.”

Jake smiled at him and leaned down to kiss Bradley. “I couldn’t be more proud to have a dog named after such an amazing man.”

As if on cue, Goose nudged the door open and jumped up on the bed and onto Bradley making him lose his breath and Jake let out a loud laugh.

***

2016

The rest of the year passed Bradley by in a blur, more time spent with Jake, Mav, or Ice, when he came to visit. By the time school started back up after the break, Bradley was beginning to get stressed out with his application for the United States Naval Academy. It was the only thing he had ever wanted to do his whole life. His father had gone. Ice had gone. Maverick didn’t but that was a special circumstance. All his heroes were amazing naval aviators, and Bradley knew that his path to fly fighter jets was through the Academy.

Bradley was often zoned out during classes, thinking about writing his personal essay that would determine if he got in or not. He knew he had the grades, he had the athleticism, he had the desire. The only thing holding him back at this point was himself and his damned writing skills. He would ask Jake for help, seeing as Jake was much more eloquent than Bradley, but they hadn’t once mentioned the future to each other, so Bradley didn’t know what the reaction was going to be when he told Jake he was going to the Academy.

So, he would suffer through. Or ask Ice for help. Either way, it was going to get done.

He stressed about it so much that Mav had started to worry about him. Mav would take an extra day off during the week, usually Friday, so he and Bradley could go to dinner or a movie that evening when Bradley got home from school. Bradley noticed that Mav was on the phone in his home office more frequently and for longer periods of time. He assumed it was talking to Ice, but every once in a while he would raise his voice, and in all the years Bradley had known Ice and Mav – his whole damn 18 years of life – they had never raised their voices at each other. The dinners and phone calls went on for a few more weeks.

Then, on the first day of spring break, Bradley got the letter in the mail that he had been denied admission to the Naval Academy due to “potential personal conflict that could arise due to his attendance.” He tore the envelope open the second he saw it was in the mail, leaving a trail of paper on his way from the front door to the kitchen counter. Mav was leaning up against the counter eating some yogurt.

“Whatcha got there, Bradley?” Mav asked him around a spoonful of yogurt.

Bradley ignored his question, too engrossed in the contents of the letter. “What?” he shouted once he had read it. And read it again. And a third time. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Without looking up, Bradley could sense Mav tensing up where he was standing. Slowly, Bradley raised his head.

“I didn’t get in,” he said quietly. He could feel a lump forming in his throat but there was no fucking way he would let himself cry. “I didn’t fucking get in. I did everything perfectly for four goddamn years of my life. I never made any other plans because I was so sure I would get in.” He paused to steady his breathing. He read over that line one more time, “personal conflicts that could arise due to his attendance.” He could feel the gears turning as the tension in the room became thicker, Mav turning around to set his spoon in the sink, and more importantly turn his back to Bradley.

“Mav,” Bradley said slowly. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he was ignoring it for now. “They said I didn’t get in due to personal conflicts with my attendance. What does that mean?” Bradley didn’t want to assume anything, there was no reason he had cause to assume anything, but he also knew how much pull both Ice and Mav had in the Navy.

Mav’s shoulders shifted as he sighed and turned back around to face Bradley. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Before he could, Bradley spoke, finally having had enough and needing to ask for himself.

“Did you have something to do with this?” he asked. Mav had been so worried about him these last few weeks. And Bradley’s whole life. Mav always wanted Bradley to stay out of the military, opting to take him to science or art museums rather than the airplane and army equipment museums Bradley would have much rather gone to. Mav would often get quiet when Bradley talked about how great of a pilot he was and how lucky his dad was to have been Mav’s RIO. It was often only Ice that indulged Bradley’s navy and aviation questions.

Mav sighed again. Bradley jumped in once again before Mav could open his mouth. “Did you have something to do with this?” he asked again, though this time it sounded more like an accusation than a real question. “Are you the personal conflict?”

This time Mav finally spoke. “I might have been,” was all he said.

“You might have been?” Bradley shouted again. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You know better than anyone that all I’ve wanted my entire life is to be a navy pilot. And you know that the first step to being the best I can be starts at the Academy. I had a better chance than almost anyone in the entire fucking country at getting in.” Bradley was furious. Why would Mav interfere?

“Because it wouldn’t be good for you, Bradley,” Mav said, starting to raise his voice, too. “I know what happens to guys who go through the Academy and become aviators. I don’t want it to happen to you, too.” Mav tried to leave but Bradley wasn’t letting him without a better explanation.

Bradley put up a hand to poke Mav in the chest. “How can you even say that? Ice went to the Academy, he turned out great and you love him.” He paused to level himself. “My fucking father went to the Academy,” he said in a low voice, hands now at his sides, curling into fists.

“That’s my point exactly, Bradley,” Mav said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t let what happened to your dad happen to you, too.”

“Mav, that was a freak accident, you of all fucking people should know that!” Bradley was hardly able to look Mav in the face. He couldn’t stay in the house. “I can’t be here right now, I can’t be in the same room as you.” Bradley threw the mail down onto the counter. “Did Ice have anything to do with this?” he asked quietly.

Mav shook his head and closed his eyes. “He had no idea.”

That was enough for Bradley. He turned on his heel and went up to his room to start packing a bag. There was no way he would spend the next week in that house with Mav and not have school to distract him. On his way up the stairs, he pulled out his phone and called Jake.

On the second ring, Jake answered. “B? What’s up?” he asked.

“I need to come over,” Bradley said flatly. “I can’t be here right now, is it okay if I come? I’ll explain when I get there I just need to get out.” He was haphazardly throwing random clothes into his duffel.

“Bradley, are you safe?” Jake asked, worry present in his voice.

Bradley breathed a sigh and let a small smile, Jake would always make him feel better. “Yes, Jake, I am. I’ll explain when I get there, I promise.”

Once he was finished packing, Bradley raced down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab the letter off the counter before he left.

“Bradley?�� Mav called out from the living room. Bradley saw him round the corner and into the kitchen. “Where are you going? Can’t we talk?”

Bradley didn’t respond and just kept walking toward the door. He heard Mav come up behind him and felt a hand around his wrist.

“Bradley, please,” Mav begged.

“Consider yourself lucky if I ever speak to you again,” Bradley spat before jerking his arm away and hurrying out the door. He would have to walk to Jake’s house since he didn’t want to wait around for a ride, but it wasn’t far and the weather was nice enough.

Once Bradley got there, he noticed that there weren’t any cars in the driveway, but he saw Jake’s parked on the street and headed to the front door. He walked right in and Jake was waiting there with arms open wide and a sad smile on his face. When he saw Jake he felt tears start to form in his eyes and the lump in his throat was back. He practically fell into Jake’s arms. Jake tilted Bradley’s chin up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Bradley made a small sound in the back of his throat and let Jake kiss him until he started to forget about why he was so upset.

“It’s okay, B, I’ve got you,” Jake whispered into Bradley’s shoulder when they pulled apart, a hand smoothing down the back of Bradley’s head. “Let’s go down to my room, yeah?”

Bradley took a deep breath and nodded his head from its spot lodged in the space between Jake’s neck and shoulder. He unstuck himself from Jake and grabbed his hand before following him down the stairs.

“What’s going on, B?” Jake asked once they had sat down on the bed. He was still holding onto Bradley’s hand, and the only thing on Bradley’s mind was the warmth emanating from his boyfriend. He knew Jake would be able to make him feel better even when Bradley felt like his whole world was falling apart around him.

“You know how we’ve never really talked about what we’re doing after we graduate?” Bradley began. Jake nodded his head slowly, confusion clear on his face. “Well, I never really wanted to talk about it because I was applying to the U.S. Naval Academy, and the chances of seeing each other would be so low if I got in. And I’ve been one of the best candidates to get in.” He paused. “Well, according to Ice, and I’m inclined to believe him.” Bradley huffed a small laugh.

Before he could start again, Jake cut in, talking excitedly. “You got your letter today then, too?” he asked.

“Wait, what? Too?” Bradley was caught off guard.

“Well, like you said, we never talked about after graduation, and because you never brought it up, I never did either, but I applied to the Academy, too! I got my acceptance letter today!” The look on Jake’s face was one of pure happiness. “You must have gotten your acceptance letter today, too!”

Bradley was too stunned to speak. He wanted more than anything to be happy for Jake, to congratulate him and hug him and kiss him and tell him that he’s proud. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was trying so hard to muster up a smile, anything that would let Jake know he loved him. Jake’s smile started to fade and was replaced by a look of confusion.

“Jake, I didn’t get in,” Bradley said quietly. “Mav pulled some bullshit and I didn’t fucking get in.” He threw his letter onto the bed in front of Jake.

“He what?” Jake asked incredulously, his voice starting to rise. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what happened but he used his stupid influence to pull my papers so they denied me.” Bradley was fighting tears. First his dad in everything but blood absolutely fucked up his entire life, and now his boyfriend was taking his place. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“There has to be someone you can talk to, right? Like Ice, can’t he do anything?” Jake asked frantically, reaching for Bradley but Bradley pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Isn’t he higher ranking than Mav?”

Bradley started to pace around the room, running his hands through his hair and causing it to stick straight up. “It doesn’t fucking matter at this point. There wouldn’t be anything anyone can do. The rest of the letters are already sent, all the spaces are full.” Bradley didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t be inside anymore, he needed fresh air, he needed to get out of the house and away from Jake. He loved him, loved him more than anything, but he didn’t want his frustrations to bring down Jake’s happiness. He leaned down to pick up his bag.

“Bradley, where are you going?” Jake asked suddenly standing from the bed.

“I need to go outside, I can’t be in here right now.” He was breathing heavily, his heart was hammering in his chest, and his head felt like it was going to explode. It was like the oxygen had suddenly disappeared from the room and he was the only one feeling the effects. His bag was forgotten on the floor as he went up the stairs and out the front door.

It was still light outside and the air was thick but being able to see the sun setting was steadying his breathing. He sat on the warm concrete of the driveway, letting the small rocks digging into his palms bring him back to earth. He heard the door open and close behind him, followed by timid footsteps. Bradley didn’t turn his head to look, but in his peripheral vision he saw Jake sit down next to him. Not too close, but close enough.

“Bradley,” Jake said softly. “What’s wrong?”

When Bradley didn’t respond, Jake scooted closer and set his hand on top of Bradley’s. Bradley still didn’t move his head, but he turned his hand over to grip onto Jake’s. They sat like that for a while until the sun was almost fully set behind the horizon. Silently, Bradley stood, still holding Jake’s hand, and led him back into the house.

He didn’t say much the rest of the night, as much as Jake tried to get him to talk. Eventually, Jake seemed to understand that he wouldn’t get anything out of Bradley that night. They got ready for bed silently but when they laid down Bradley finally spoke.

“All I’ve wanted my whole life was to be in a Navy fighter jet like my dad, like Mav, and like Ice. I’ve wanted to be in the air and above the clouds,” Bradley said quietly. Jake shifted to rest his head on Bradley’s chest. “Now that I don’t have the opportunity, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He sighed deeply.

Jake rested his hand on Bradley’s chest and drew circles with his finger. “B, there are other ways,” he started. “You can do NROTC in college and commission. Enlist and get your degree while you’re in and then commission. There are so many options.” He continued with his circles and Bradley tried his hardest to focus on them instead of the thoughts circling his head.

“It’s going to set me back, and I feel like I’ll never catch up.” Bradley brought his hand up and intertwined his fingers with Jake’s. “I love you, you know that right? I always will, and I’ll never forget you even if we’re apart.”

Through the darkness, Bradley could sense the confusion on Jake’s face, but he made no move to try and look at Bradley.

“I love you, too, B,” Jake replied in a soft voice.

They laid together there in the darkness until Bradley heard Jake’s breathing slow and knew he was asleep. He stayed in bed a few more minutes, already having made up his mind but still feeling like a weight on his chest was weighing him down. After laying still a while longer but before changing his mind, Bradley slid himself out from underneath Jake, careful not to wake him. He picked his bag up off the floor and threw his few clothes that had been strewn about the floor inside before zipping it up as quietly as he could.

Bradley leaned over the bed to press a kiss to Jake’s forehead before making his way out the door and out to the driveway. He sat down on the now cooled concrete and pulled out his phone to find an Uber. It wasn’t too late, he should be able to get one.

Once he had secured a ride to the airport, he stared at Ice’s name in his contacts before pressing the button to call him. It was the first time he had turned on his phone since leaving Mav’s house, so he was using every bit of will inside him to keep from opening all the texts from both Ice and Mav.

“Bradley?” Ice answered the phone with a frantic voice after the first ring. “Mav and I have been trying to call you for hours, where are you?”

“I’m at Jake’s, I’m fine.” Bradley took a deep breath. “But I’m coming to San Diego. Now. I’m waiting for my ride to the airport.”

“What?” Ice shouted through the phone. “Bradley, why?”

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, right?” Bradley asked instead of answering Ice’s question. “Mav pulling my papers?”

“I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do,” Ice sighed. “It was too late by the time he told me about it.”

“Then I’m coming back to San Diego and finishing the school year there. I can’t be here anymore,” Bradley said.

When Ice tried to bring up Jake, Bradley cut him off. “I’ll talk when I get home, my ride is here.” He hung up the phone and stared out into the darkness, waiting for the headlights to show up.

The only thing Bradley remembers from the blur of the airport was his phone ringing while he was waiting in Dallas for his next flight. He saw the screen light up, first with Mav’s name then Jake’s after he let Mav’s call go to voicemail. He didn’t answer Jake’s either.

After a minute, the voicemail notification popped up. Against his better judgment, Bradley lifted his phone to his ear.

“B, please,” Jake said breathlessly through the phone. “Come back. Don’t go.” There was a silence that followed before, “I love you,” preceded the click of the call ending.

Thirteen hours later, Bradley was sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, and Ice sitting across from him. They hadn’t spoken on the car ride from the airport or since they had been home. Bradley was unable to form his thoughts into words, his mind was still reeling from the decision he made. He didn’t know if it was the right one but he knew he wasn’t going back.

“I’ll work on getting you enrolled in school later today,” Ice said, standing up to pour himself more coffee. “We’ll have to talk about what happened at some point, you know.”

Bradley nodded, but kept his mouth shut. He had never felt so drained and wired at the same time. His adrenaline was still pumping hot through his veins but he was starting to come down and his body was feeling it. He wrapped his hands tighter around his mug, letting the warmth seep into his hands and willing it to travel to the rest of his body.

He knew that he would have to start applying to colleges as soon as possible, it was late in the year and he needed to get in. He thought about applying to San Diego State University so he could stay living with Ice, but there was too high of a chance that Mav would come back and find him. He decided on University of Virginia instead. Well, he would have to apply and actually get accepted, but with his grades and extracurriculars – prior to moving to Corpus Christi – he shouldn’t have a problem.

***

The rest of Bradley’s school year passed quickly. He kept his head down and got back in with his old friends, and managed to keep their questions about why he was back away through cracking jokes or just leaving the conversation. Eventually, around graduation, everyone just kind of left him alone.

Ice had gone to his graduation, against everything Bradley wanted. He didn’t even want to walk across the stage, but Ice made him, saying that he wanted the pictures to hang in the house. While Bradley walked, he thought he saw a shock of dark hair and a familiar looking face standing in the back, but it could have been anyone.

The summer passed quickly and Bradley moved out to Virginia in the fall, Ice helping to move him into his dorm. He had gotten accepted into the school fairly quickly, and was even considering trying out for the baseball team. He wasn’t sure if he would have time for both the team and NROTC, but he would make it work. He had to. He always did.

As the summer and then fall wore on, the thought of Jake wasn’t leaving his mind, as much as he tried. He had a few flings throughout the summer, and even managed to stay with a boy for over a month once he was in Virginia. He couldn’t make it work though, every time Bradley felt like he was getting close to getting over Jake, something would happen that would remind Bradley of him. The other boy broke it off right before the end of the fall semester.

***

2017

2018

2019

2020

In the spring of 2020, Bradley graduated college summa cum laude and with a commission in the United States Navy. Ice was in attendance at the ceremony, dressed to the nines in his whites and forcing Bradley to take all sorts of pictures. He knew those pictures would get sent to Mav, but he was trying to keep the thought out of his mind.

Bradley would have to go to field training in the summer, but he was on the track to get a fighter pilot slot once he was done. He had gotten his degree in Aerospace Engineering with his minor in Spanish, and he was able to get his private pilot’s license while he was in school. He told Ice to stay away from pulling strings to get him a pilot slot, but Bradley didn’t fully believe him when Ice told him he didn’t.

Bradley had finally made it to where he wanted to be, hardly set back any time at all, and he would be in the cockpit of an F/A-18 before he knew it. There was nothing holding him back, no Mav, no relationships, nothing. He was content, even though there was a lingering feeling that a part of him was missing.

#top gun #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #sereshaw #hangster

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