#I completely understand someone not wanting to read ToD I didn't want to read it myself. but when I decided to give this incredible book a

[archivallyfound09]

Something In-Between, pt. 5

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (f), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader (f) (no y/n)

Summary: Something old, something new- reader's stuck between two men who look damn good in Navy blue(s).

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), drinking, potentially some suggestive situations in the future (none here). Everything I write is Mature- read at your own risk.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The door creaked ever so slightly as it opened in the almost completely darkened room. You turned towards the offending noise, aggravated, without being fully conscious yet.

"So, listen," his voice was shaky and you were barely awake, eyes blearily trying to focus on the man standing in your doorway. You heard him sigh and you reached for your glasses, wanting to better understand why you were up at...dear god, the crack of fucking dawn.

"Bradshaw..." your voice was low and the comment was issued as a warning. He held up a hand and leaned on the doorframe sighing again.

"I know. I'm an asshole. And I embarrassed you and I guess...I guess what I'm trying to figure out how to-"

"Spit it out Bradshaw, I want to get some decent sleep before tod-"

"Just let me okay?" you could hear the annoyance and the fear in his voice. "I need to admit this. I've been acting like an asshole and everything with Hangman because...I think I'm in love with you."

It was a statement of fact that hung in the early morning and sucked all the air out of the room and out of Bradley's lungs. You sat up a bit in bed, not sure if you had heard him entirely correct. Sure, it was fairly obvious there were feelings between you two, but they had always been on your end. What you were surprised by was his ability to admit these feelings...

It had been one night at UVA, all the "kids" in your friend group had scampered off to some nightclub, leaving you alone at a large booth sipping a drink. You had spotted Bradley across the way at the bar, quietly looking completely unphased by everything happening in a college bar on a Friday night. He suddenly caught your eye as he scanned the room and you offered him a slight smile and raised your glass to him. He raised his beer bottle in reciprocation and then you tilted your head to the empty seats beside you.

You and Bradley had closed down the bar in that booth. You covered every topic you could think of: family, friends, classes, life, dream jobs, childhood pets. Bradley had told you about his parents and the Navy- which was something he always intentionally avoided when first meeting someone. You were different. The two of you walked out of the bar, attached at the hip. It was that night that you knew, he had fallen in love with you.

"I knew in college, Bradley. I'm just not exactly sure what to do about it." You saw his face drop as he nodded. He was afraid of this scenario, but being stuck in purgatory where he didn't know if you even knew of his feelings was a far worse outcome. You offered him a sleepy smile.

"Can we maybe talk about this some time when I'm not half asleep?" That got a chuckle and another nod from Bradley as he stepped towards you in bed.

"You bet. Love ya, kid." he places a quick peck on the top of your head and you smiled, breathing in his cologne. You started sinking back under the covers for a few more hours of sleep as he headed towards the door.

"Love ya too, Bradshaw."

--------

"Hey there, darlin'," the southern voice drawled through the receiver, "how'd I get so lucky to win a phone call from you?" You stifled a giggle, the alcohol clouding every part of your brain. You swayed a bit, holding the phone tightly against your cheek, a big, stupid grin plastered on your face.

"Uh, sweetheart?"

You gasped at his voice, half forgetting that you were on the phone.

"Shit, sorry. I uh- I...fuck, I honestly don't know why I called you. I'm sorry...." The words rambled out with only a bit of slurring. You were more embarrassed than drunk and that part of your brain was suddenly working just fine.

"It's all good darlin', I'm here if you just want to talk. You in a safe place?" You nodded and then realized there was no way Jake could hear your nod. You gave him the affirmative and he hummed back. Suddenly, loud music filled the reciever.

"Jake, where are you? Oh god- you're out, I'm so fucking sor-"

You heard a slightly annoyed sigh from Jake on the other end. You weren't sure if it was your call or the obnoxiously loud karaoke that had just started up. You heard him shuffling outside and then suddenly on the ocean waves could be heard in the background.

"Stop apologizing for calling me. You okay? Do you want-"

"-I want you to come over."

The unasked question melded with your response and Jake couldn't help the flip that his stomach did when you admitted you wanted him there. His heart started pounding a bit more as he bit the corner of his lip.

"I'll be there in 10 sweetheart. Want me to bring anything?" His brain started wracking though all the things that could happen tonight (beer, wine, vodka, whiskey, weed, coke, condoms...he only knew where to get a few things and wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but wanted to be prepared nonetheless). Your shaky and still tipsy voice crackled in his ear and brought him out of his 50 yard stare.

"I...I don't think I want to be alone right now, that's all."

Jake refused to hang up the phone even when a dial tone rung in his ear, signalling that you had probably moved onto another drink. He walked pointedly out of the bar, his vision tunnelling as he walked swiftly out the front doors to his car.

Both Phoenix and Coyote saw the whole thing happen. The phone call that was answered too quickly. The nicknames that flew out of Hangman's mouth. The walking outside. The run to get to the parking lot. Phoenix rolled her eyes and looked over at Bradley, completely engrossed in a song at the piano, a variety of cadets and officers singing and clapping him on the back.

Poor bastard, she thought, he has no idea.

---------

You couldn't tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours. You were splayed out, halfway on the floor, a glass precariously perched in your hand. You knew this was catastrophic. You knew it was immature. You also knew what Bradley's admission meant this morning: all those years you had pined for him and supported him and loved him, he had loved you back. But he had left you anyway.

Another sound knock at the door lurched you up onto your feet as you stumbled to grasp the cool handle in your palm. You tried to regain some control as you unlocked and opened the door, but you seemed to lose all resolve when you were met with the stunningly handsome blond aviator in front of you.

"Hey..." you ventured awkwardly, unsure of exactly what 20 minutes ago drunk you were thinking.

"Hey there, sweetheart. Mind if I come in? Assess the damage?" You laughed and stepped to the side, a smirk covering Jake's face when he noticed the half empty liquor bottle on the kitchen table.

"You've been busy," he commented, the smirk growing. You shrugged. "Something going on?" You shook your head, unwilling to give up any more information. You were drunk, but you weren't stupid. You didn't want Jake knowing about Bradley and his feelings and...

"It's Bradshaw, isn't it?"

You froze, halfway back to the couch. You let out a deep sigh and then turned slowly like a caught child. Well, so much for keeping that cat in the bag.

"He loves me," Jake froze, unsure of the intrepid waters that he just crossed into. "I loved him for years, Jake, years," you emphasized and he nodded, crossing the room to sit next to your on the couch. "He called me his sister. He dated around. He...he left me." You willed yourself not to cry. The feeling of Jake's warm hand on your thigh helped calm you down a bit.

"It fuckin sucks, man," you said through a few lose tears, a laugh bubbling up at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Jake nodded and let out a small breathless laugh.

"I hear ya, darlin. How about we take your mind off it okay?" Before you could answer he was already heading to the kitchen, two glasses in hand. "Nothing a little drinking game can't fix."

---------

About 2 am you thought your sides were going to burst from all the laughter. You weren't even sure what had happened to get you from literal tears to a giggling mess halfway into Jake's arms. You realized he was laughing just as hard as you were, the empty bottle of tequila was no doubt the culprit in all this.

"Jake, I have to go to bed now..." you weren't sure if you were trying to be seductive or just make a point that if you laughed anymore, you very well may throw up. Jake calmed his chuckles and started to stand up. "I know where my own bedroom is..."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that darlin'? I'm just trying to be a gentleman here and make sure you get home safely." You swatted at his chest, earning another laugh. You took his arm and led him towards your bedroom.

"See? Safe and sou-" you turned to look at your bed and when you turned back around to Jake, his lips collided with yours. You froze. It was everything you thought a kiss with Jake Seresin would be, except it was way more clouded than you would've liked. He kept it short and simple, not apologetic look on his face.

"I want you to know exactly where I stand with you, princess. I don't want to miss out on something because you're not sure of my feelings."

--------

"Hey Hangman? Get the FUCK out of my living room!"

You blinked through the fog of an impending hangover, cursing whatever idiot part of you let you drink tequila last night. You looked at your phone. 4.32am. Goddammit. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, pulling on pajama pants that were lying on the floor and quickly made your way out to the living room.

You were anticipating a brawl. What you found was Jake standing, hands up in mock apology, head down, with Bradley practically snarling at him, his voice seething.

"I said GET THE FUCK-"

"BRADLEY." Both men turned to look at you. You were a sight. Backwards PJ pants, wrinkled oversized shirt, hair sticking up in a variety of directions, glasses slightly crooked on your nose.

"He's drunk. He can't drive home. I won't allow it. And how the FUCK did you get home like this?"

He gave you a sheepish look, refusing to answer directly, but rather mumbling something about Bob and Coyote and Phoenix's car. You rolled your eyes, your head already pounding and your mouth impeccably dry.

"Okay. Here's how this is going to work. I'm getting water for all three of us," you walked towards the kitchen. "Bradley, go to bed. Jake, go back to bed. I'm going to contemplate whether or not I want to die from this hangover and we're all going to leave each other alone, okay?" The two tired slightly intoxicated nods you received almost made you laugh. Almost.

You handed Bradley his water without a word. He gave you a crooked smile and headed off to his room. When you placed the glass down next to Jake on the coffee table, he looked up at you, gratefully.

"Thanks beautiful. I appreciate it."

You nodded, not trusting your words and headed back to bed, water glass gripped tightly in your grasp. You laid down in bed, not completely fathoming what had just happened. Jake and Bradley were mere feet away from you (and from each other).

"Jesus fucking Christ."

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PART 6

A/N: I'm not saying something vaguely like this happened in college that one time...but I'm also not saying that it didn't. I'm still stuck between the two- let me know who you all like more!

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[ladybookstan]

Tower of Dawn - Chapter 25

Wind-seeker, her mother had once called her. Unable to keep still, always wandering where the wind calls you. Where shall it beckon you to journey one day, my rose?

........

“And what are the tales they tell about you, Nesryn Faliq?” She chewed on the salted pork.

“No one has any stories about me.” It didn’t bother her. Fame, notoriety … She valued other things more, she supposed.

“Not even the story about the arrow that saved a shape-shifter’s life? The impossible shot fired from a rooftop?”

.........

“Neith’s Arrow,” Sartaq said after uncounted minutes, leaning back against the rock.

Nesryn dragged her gaze from the stars to find his face limned in moonlight, silver dancing along the pure onyx of his braid.

He rested his forearms on his knees.

“That’s what my spies called you, what I called you until you arrived. Neith’s Arrow.” The Goddess of Archery—and the Hunt, originally hailing from an ancient sand-swept kingdom to the west, now enfolded into the khaganate’s vast pantheon. A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “So don’t be surprised if there’s now a story or two about you already finding its way across the world.”

Nesryn observed him for a long moment, the howling mountain wind blending with Kadara’s snoring. She’d always excelled at archery, took pride in her unmatched aim, but she had not learned because she coveted renown. She’d done it because she enjoyed it, because it gave her a direction to aim that wind-seeking inclination. And yet …

........... - Chapter 29

Sartaq’s smile grew. “Perhaps we could also do a bit of archery practice.” He looked her over with a frankness that made her shift in her seat. “I’m certainly keen to match myself against Neith’s Arrow, and I’m sure the young warriors are, too.”

Nesryn pushed back her own plate, brows lifting. “They’ve heard of me?”

Sartaq grinned. “I might have told a story or two the last time I came here. Why do you think there were so many people gathered when we arrived? They certainly don’t usually bother to drag themselves here to see me.”

“But Borte seemed like she’d never—”

“Does Borte seem like a person who gives anyone an easy time?”

Something deeper in her warmed. “No. But how could they have known I was coming?”

His answering grin was the portrait of princely arrogance. “Because I sent word a day before that you were likely to join me.”

Nesryn gaped at him, unable to maintain that mask of calm.

Rising, Sartaq scooped up their plates. “I told you that I was praying you’d join me, Nesryn Faliq. If I’d shown up empty-handed, Borte would have never let me hear the end of it.”

.......... - Chapter 30

“Pick a mark,” Nesryn told Borte.

The woman smirked. “Neck, heart, head.” She pointed to each of the three dummies, a different mark for each one. Wind rattled them, the aim and strength needed to hit each utterly different. Borte knew it—all the warriors here did.

Nesryn lifted an arm behind her head, dragging her fingers along the fletching, the feathers rippling against her skin as she scanned the three targets. Listened to the murmur of the winds racing past Rokhal, that wild summons she heard echoed in her own heart. Wind-seeker, her mother had called her.

One after another, Nesryn withdrew an arrow and fired.

Again, and again, and again.

Again, and again, and again.

Again, and again, and again.

And when she finished, only the howling wind answered—the wind of Torke, the Roarer. Every training ring had stopped. Staring at what she’d done.

Instead of three arrows distributed amongst the three dummies, she’d fired nine.

Three rows of perfectly aligned shots on each: heart, neck, and head. Not an inch of difference. Even with the singing winds.

Sartaq was grinning when she turned to him, his long braid drifting behind him, as if it were a sulde itself.

But Borte elbowed past him, and breathed to Nesryn, “Show me.”

sorry for my tags.