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lovecla · 2 months ago

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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter four:

➴ warnings: angst, jealousy, insecurities

➴ word count: 3.9k

➴ author’s note: this is a mess, soph and jack are a mess, quinn’s a sweetheart, grace’s funny af and i’ve reached 100 followers today. can’t even describe how happy i am with the attention IYLM,LMK is getting. i adore u all so much and i hope u stick with me for a while. prepare your seatbelts because shit is about to hit the fan. :,)

SOMETHING changed between you and Jack that day at the Skims set, a week ago.

You finally realized that you are, very much, in love with Jack Hughes. Which was something that you never, in a million years, would’ve guessed. Because, what; you told yourself you’d never get your heart shattered again, yet here you were, walking straight (and worse: willingly) into a trap, falling in love with the man whore of the Devils team.

Despite all of the mean things your mind wanted to tell you, you just forced yourself to remember that not every man is like your cheater ex boyfriend and that not every man would completely crush your heart and tear it apart.

And even though you wouldn't put your hand on the fire and say that he felt the same way as you, if he didn’t, that man was good at pretending. Because no way in hell he’d take all of his fuck buddies to their family lake cabin to throw a Halloween party.

“This is crazy, Jack, you are in the middle of the season, and I’m in the middle of releasing something…” you started, watching as the car took a turn. “Also, how the fuck did you manage to organise a party in, like, thirty minutes?”

“Uh. I’m literally a NHL player. What did you expect?” He scoffed, so full of himself it was almost impossible to stand. You rolled your eyes. “And it’s just a night. I’m not screwing everything up for having fun for one night only, baby, and neither is you.”

“I guess you’re right.” You mumbled, answering some texts messages on your phone.

“I’m always right.” You rolled your eyes again, watching as he drove with ease. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“My fans have been dying for me to dress up as Rapunzel, so I might as well please them.” You shrugged, locking your phone and putting it on your pocket.

“I don’t know about them but I am definitely pleased with the idea.” He smirked.

“You’re just horny, Hughes. Happens to the best of us.”

“Or you’re just pretty. Happens to some of us.”

You laughed, cheeks warm and heart beating fast. “You’re a flirt, Jack Hughes. I missed that. Is it always this crazy during the season?”

“Like you can’t even imagine. My life is just games, working out, eating plain shit and practice for seven months straight.”

“And you love every second of it, don’t you?”

He smiled, white teeth making the view seem a whole lot brighter. “I do, yes. It’s like… the only thing that makes me feel truly alive.”

“Yeah, I know what it feels like,” you whispered. “I feel like that when I’m on the stage too. It’s just… I don’t know. Makes me feel good.”

“I like seeing you on stage,” he nodded and you raised your brow. “What? I do, really. That concert I went to with Nico was fun. Besides, watching you dance with those little dresses of yours is something else.”

“Boo, you’re just an idiot!” You laughed. “But thank you, Jackie bear.”

“Sophia, Jesus, do not call me that,” he whined, but the smile was still on his lips. “Gross.”

“Okay, Jackie bear, whatever you want, honeypot.”

“Sophia!”

— ♡

THE cabin was packed with people, and you were amazed with how fast people arrived, even with the short notice.

You were waiting for Grace to finish getting ready— she would be wearing a Tiana costume, matching your Rapunzel one— so you both could go downstairs and enjoy the party.

“Jack’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you with that little skirt,” Grace said, while applying lip gloss on her plump lips.

“Yeah, about that… I might need to talk to you about something.” You started, crossing your legs.

She stared at you through the mirror, raising her eyebrows. “Go on, Pinky Pie.”

“I thought we’d established that I’m Twilight and you’re my Mordecai?” You giggled, making Grace laugh too.

“I guess we can pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars…” she sighed. “Go on, then, baby. We don’t have all night.”

“So. I may or may have a thing for Jack. Actually, maybe more than just a thing. Think I’m in love, to be honest,” you waited to see her reaction, not expecting her to jump out of the vanity and start twirling around the room, making you laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Are you joking?” She looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “I just won two hundred bucks!”

Confusion took over your face. “What do you mean?”

“I told Nico that you’d be in love with Jack by the end of October and he said you’d be in love with him by the end of November, and since you confessed it now— perfect timing, by the way— I get my two hundred bucks!” She started dancing and jumping, like she wasn’t a nepo baby.

“Grace! What the hell, this is serious!” You raised your arms.

She sat back on the bed.

“Girl, no it isn’t. Just go to him and say: hey, buddy, here’s a secret not so secret: I’m in love with you.” She shrugged. “Just don’t sing the Airplanes song, please. That’s, like, our thing.”

“Grace, I— I can’t even— what the hell,” you wanted to run your hands through your hair, but you remembered that you were wearing extensions and a tiara. So you stick with biting your nails instead. “First of all, why the fuck would you and Nico bet on something like this? That doesn’t even make sense. Second, I can’t just go over there, call him and tell him I like him. That’s not how it works.”

“Well, Nico was the one who proposed the idea of betting so that’s on him!” She raised a finger. “And yes, that is literally how it works.”

“You’re forgetting that this is Jack Hughes. A guy who, apparently, can’t stay a week without a pussy and fucked every Jerseywoman who walked on God’s green earth.”

“Ew, don’t say that! You know my mom’s New Jersian…” she sighed, making a disgusted face. You smiled, apologetically. “Okay. I know that Jack’s past may not be the ideal background you want for your baby daddy but hear me out!”

“Baby daddy? What—”

“Jack hasn’t touched anyone else since you guys started… well. Fucking.” She blushes, like she wasn’t calling him your baby daddy not even a minute ago. “And he’s a great, great person. I’ve seen how he looks at you and if that man isn’t in love, then I’m white as a sheet of paper.”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated. “Harris also seemed like a great guy, and when we got together, everything changed. I don’t want to go through that ever again.”

“I know it hurt, and God knows I’d rather mop the entire ocean than to see you like that again,” she scooched closer, grabbed your hands and pressed her lips together, the REM Beauty lip gloss making her lips look magical. “But you have to give yourself that chance again. It’s been more than a year, and I’ve seen you and Jack together.”

“I know that, but—”

Grace clicked her tongue, a tsc reverberating on the bedroom walls.

“I’m telling you this as someone who isn’t inside that little head of yours,” she whispered, holding your hands tighter. “You and Jack together? Girl, that’s meant to be. That’s like Achilles and Patroclus, Romeo and Juliet, Hazel and Gus—”

“Girl, what the hell, can’t you find a couple who at least one of them is still alive?” You scoffed.

“Sorry, I just love depressing stories…” she apologized before starting talking again. “That’s not the point, anyway, Miss Girl and you know it! Fuck whatever your head is telling you, Soph: you deserve to be loved and you deserve to love.”

“I didn’t say I love h—” she put a hand over your mouth, interrupting you.

“You don’t have to. I know you, Soph, and the look you get on your face whenever you talk to him, or even better, talk about him, is enough for me,” she kissed your cheek, quickly wiping the lip gloss stain on your face. “And let me tell you a secret, honeybun, he has the same look on his face.”

You smiled, cheeks carmesim and heart full. Thanking Grace for saying all of this wasn’t enough, you needed to buy her a house on the beach with a very naked Nico Hischier inside of it. Maybe that’s what you were going to do.

If only you knew how to convince Nico to be naked at a beach house, you’d certainly—

Someone knocked on the door, and you both got up, surprisingly fast, remembering that you were not alone and that there was a whole party happening downstairs.

Opening the door, you faced Jack who looked way too hot with his own jersey. Of course he’d be wearing a Jack Hughes, NHL Player costume. Of fucking course.

“You were taking too long up here so I came to check on you but maybe we’ll be here for a bit longer.” He smirked, hands finding your corset-covered waist instantly.

“Hum—”

“Excuse me, Mr. I-can’t-keep-myself-in-my-pants, I’m still here.” Grace yelled behind you, and you watched as his entire face showed his annoyance.

“Yeah, I can see. Feel free to leave, though,” he rolled his eyes, holding your right hand and twirling you around. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Your entire face felt like a fireplace but you still smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“You both are disgusting, excuse me,” Grace walked past the both of you, mumbling something about checking in with her husband.

“Let’s go.” He offered you his hands, which you promptly held.

Going downstairs, you were surprised with how full the house was. Like, there were at least fifty people there, which seemed insane for a cabin, no matter how large it was.

Jack dragged you around, saying “hi” to every person you walked by, true to his NHL playboy persona. To your amusement, some people also acknowledged you. Mostly some girls and a few guys. It was nice.

“Sophia!” You heard a shout and immediately knew who it was. Trevor Zegras, wearing a pirate costume, which was just an excuse for him to be shirtless, really. One of the most annoying people you’ve ever met. Truthfully. “Damn, I’d climb that tower for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d push you down that shit, Zegras, fuck off.”

Jack laughed softly beside you, moving until you were both sitting on the couch. Quinn, Luke, Nico, Grace and Zegras were all there, talking with a few people you didn't know the name of.

“You can't say you don’t like me without trying me first.” Trevor suggested, looking directly at your face. You showed him your middle finger.

“No one wants to try you, Zegras, now fuck off,” Jack stated before sipping on the beer he stole from Luke, who was dressed as a cooking chef. Or at least that’s what it looked like.

“See, this is why Quinn’s my favorite Hughes,” he mumbled, smiling at Quinn. “Anyway, Soph knows where the heat’s at.” Pointing at himself, Zegras moved on to the girl on his right, who seemed awfully pleased to be his second option.

“Asshole.” You heard Jack mutter under his breath and you giggled, amused.

“Be nice. He’s just… in heat, I guess,” you shrugged, already used to Zegras’ comments. Every time you saw him, he had something new to add to the list. Usually, you’d tell him to fuck off, and he would.

“He’s a pain in my ass, that’s what he is.” Jack bickered, pouting like a ten-year-old child. You found it cute.

“Poor Jackie, huh?”

“Shut up, Soph.” He smiled, blue eyes bright and kind.

Now that you knew what those backflips your heart did every time you saw him smile meant, it was much harder to control them.

Confessing to Jack would break the no-strings-attached arrangement that you both had silently made. It would meant either dating him and having your happily ever after (even if you hardly believed in those) or having your heart broken (again) by a really nice guy who just wanted to fuck you.

Besides that, you were both well-known people, especially you. You remember all too well when you were at home, chilling after a concert, and you got several texts from your friends and family, regarding a bunch of pictures of Harris kissing another girl at a bus stop station. A fucking bus stop station.

The situation dragged on for months, every time you’d post something, people would mention the fact that your ex was a cheater, you had been cheated on and that somehow you deserved to get cheated on; because of the things you sang, because of the clothes you were. Just a shit show with an even shittier audience.

“Hey,” you heard Jack’s voice beside you, and you turned your head around, looking at him. “Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere,” you smiled; it didn’t reach your eyes. Jack seemed to be ready to talk back when a girl— brunette with the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen— threw herself at his lap.

“Jackieeee.” She whined, kissing his cheek. “I missed you.”

You could tell she was a little tipsy, but even so, it made your stomach ache anyway. That ugly, shattering feeling of feeling like less than less came back, and it was as if you could feel the narrator of your story preparing himself to repeat the same shit again. Here’s Sophia again, the girl who likes to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrests.

“Hi…” Jack sounded unsure, something he rarely did. You looked at Grace, and she looked right back at you. Only then you realized that basically everyone was staring at you.

“You don’t remember me?” The girl sounded like she was pouting and you cringed. She was so close to you, sitting on his lap, that her left thigh was brushing against your arm. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure to be unforgettable this time, baby.”

“Wow, I think that’s it for me,” you muttered, getting up from the couch, moving to the kitchen without looking back. You knew that you’d throw up if you did; not because of Jack and Mrs. Unforgettable, but because of the pity stares you knew people were giving you. It sucked.

You also knew that if you stayed inside the house for too long, you’d end up drunk and pissed off. And you didn’t want that. So you did the only thing that you knew would put your mind in the right place again: going to the lake.

You walked outside, feeling the cold breeze hit your face and legs and arms and— everywhere, really. You should have worn a sweatshirt, but now it was too late to go back. You’d rather turn into a popsicle than to go back there and watch that again.

Sitting on the dock, you watched the lake in front of you, listening to the sounds of insects and trees moving. It was a nice view, but probably nicer in the summer. Right now it just looked like a Criminal Minds crime scene.

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps coming from behind you. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Letting out a scream, you turned around, facing Quinn, who was wearing a pilot costume, with a scowl on your face.

“Sweet Jesus, Quinn, what the hell,” you put your hand on your barely covered chest, taking a deep breath. “Don’t you know how to, I don’t know, make noise while you walk?”

“I did that, actually, you just didn’t hear it,” he sat down beside you, handing you a Canucks sweatshirt. “Thought you’d get cold.”

You smiled, thanking him and putting it on, trying not to ruin your hair and makeup.

“Thank you, Quinn. That’s nice. Go Canucks!” You raised your hand, making a fist bump, hearing his soft chuckle beside you. You sighed. “I don’t know if you’re here to try to make me feel better or anything like that, but you don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I’m just here because you needed a sweater and because it’s kinda creepy to be here alone. Nothing else, I promise.”

You looked at him, once again surprised with the Hughes men. But then, they were raised by Ellen, so you shouldn’t really be surprised.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything, just feeling the breeze on your face, a million thoughts in your head.

Now what? What would you even say to Jack? Hey, yeah, I know that when we started this we said that we didn’t want to fall in love but guess what! I’m in love with you.

And what would he even say to you? It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like you back. He’d probably say something like yeah, you fucked up our arrangement now I’ll have to find someone else to fuck every week. You were fun, though! and move on with his life.

And you’d move on with yours, just like you did before. The thing is, you didn’t want to move on again. You spent five years into your twenties trying to move on from things and it was tiring as hell. Moving on from broken friendships? Tiring. Moving on from toxic people? Tiring. Moving on from your cheater boyfriend? Tiring and humiliating.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn throwing rocks at the lake, laughing when he couldn’t make them float like he intended to. He looked at you with that tired expression of his, and smiled back.

“Great album, by the way,” he blurted out of nowhere.

You frowned. “Thank you, I guess. Did someone leak it?”

“No,” he laughed, shortly. “Jack talked about it in our family group chat a while ago. Ma asked about you and he went on rambling about it, which was really funny. He was like, putting on his uniform before practice and recording a voice note at the same time, which he never does. And then he went full rambling about all of the songs and how shitty your ex was. Sorry about that,”

You looked at Quinn like he had grown two more heads, four more arms and five more legs. You had no idea Jack talked about your songs with his family. At all.

You wanted to ask more about it to Quinn so bad but you were kinda scared about what you were going to hear in response. Does Jack talk about me?

About you? Yeah, and a lot of other girls too.

“Sure,” you mumbled. “Yeah, Harris was a dick,”

“I liked some of his movies but now he’s banned from my watchlist forever.” Quinn announced like the statement didn’t make your heart break and mend at the same time, his tone calm and distant. “It’s good that you found something to channel your pain though. I do that a lot during my games.”

“Singing for me is like breathing. I’ve done it since I was, like, eight or even younger,” you nodded to yourself, looking at the stars above you. “This album means a lot to me, in a lot of ways. So thank you for telling me this.” You smiled, not sure if he could see it. He was also looking at the stars.

“Don’t need to say ‘thank you’. You have a gift, Sophia. I hope you know that,” he stretched himself, yawning and wrapping his arms around his middle. “I wish I could write songs but I suck at that.”

“Why do you sound like you’ve tried that already?” You smirked, fucking with him.

Or at least you thought you were, because Quinn went quiet, which confirmed your suspicions.

“What!” You looked at him, throwing your arms up. “Have you written songs before?”

“I was thirteen, okay? I just thought that maybe if I didn’t make it to the NHL, I could at least be a rapper or something.” He shrugged, again, which only made you start laughing. “I know, it’s funny. Thankfully, I made it to the NHL.”

“I don’t know, it’d be great to make a song with you,” you said, playfully, before realising something. “Oh my God, Quinn. That’s what I need!”

“What?” He smirked. “Make a song with me? I don’t think that’s a great idea—”

“No, not a song with you. Just a song. I need to write,” You nodded to yourself, getting up and fixing your skirt with your hands. “Do you think I could get a cab here? I came with Jack and I think he’s…” you bit your lip. Focus. Write the song; it will all be better. “Busy. And Grace needs to have her fun, too. She’s been working nonstop.”

“A cab? Soph, it’s like midnight,” he got up, too, standing in front of you. “I can take you home. It’s no biggie.”

“What? No! Enjoy the party! I’ll just try to catch an Uber or something.” You went to grab your phone, just to remember that you left it at the cabin. “Ugh, fuck, I need to go inside again.”

“I will take you home, no need for Ubers or anything like that. Just tell me where your things are and I’ll pick them up for you. I’ll talk to Grace on my way there.” He affirmed, walking with you towards the cabin, the loud music slowly filling up your ears again.

“That’s… so nice,” you breathed, more grateful than you’d like to admit. “Thank you, Quinn, seriously. I owe you.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, hands in his pockets. “Wait a second here, please.”

You did, and it wasn’t long until he showed up with your backpack, your phone and a very worried Grace beside him.

“Girl, what the hell?” She yelled, probably not even realizing how loud she sounded. “I’ve been looking for you like crazy and out of nowhere Quinn shows up with your stuff, saying he will get you home.”

“I have to write a song.” You reasoned, raising your shoulders.

Grace stared at you for what felt like forever, until she pressed her lips on your forehead and sighed. “Alright. I’m not even going to ask. Be safe, please, and remember that I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thank you, I love you.” You kissed her back, following Quinn on the way to his car, not bothering to look back.

Jack was probably busy anyway.

— ♡

HANDS around the guitar, you replayed the same melody you’ve been playing for five hours straight now.

You arrived home at one thirty in the morning, and even though you were awfully tired, you had to get the lyrics, the feelings, the emotions out of you. Fuck sleeping.

You offered your guest room for Quinn but he just shook his head, saying that he’d crash at his parents’. You made him call you when he arrived there so you knew he was safe, which he promptly did.

After that, you made yourself tea and sat in your home studio, writing obsessively. It had been a long time since the last time you had a song practically written in your head, and honestly, you couldn’t tell if that was good or not.

What you knew, though, is that now, five hours later, seven a.m. in the morning, you had a song. Bad for Business. You sent it to your producer and Grace before laying on your bed and drifting away immediately, the exhaustion taking over you.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x singer!fmc #jack hughes x singer!reader #jack hughes smut #IYLMLMK

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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

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

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

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

Your heart stops.

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

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

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

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

“Miss Mitchell?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

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

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

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

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

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Mitchell!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart rate picks up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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libraryraccoon · 8 months ago

Note

Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #vox hazbin hotel #valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #husk #husker #niffty #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel adam #Raccoon is writing

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bryngmemoney · 9 months ago

Text

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke, worms (maybe?)

lots of Writing between Messages!!

🪡Chapter Twenty-seven: Fixing him

“Megumi,”

“hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you didn’t notice it , but he tightened his grip on the wheel, his other hand that was by his side he used to pinch the fabric of his pants.

“You just seem quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, but you never told me where we were going.”

“Oh right!” to be honest you had completely forgotten you hadn’t told him, and you did promise you’d say where the morning of. “It’s a little book cafe! My friend recommended it to me, I thought it seemed fitting.”

“So, you’ve been here before with them?” he questioned. “Nope, we can try it out together.” He smiled a little, and you did notice that, happy to at least get a little more emotion out of him.

“Hi! Welcome in,” A girl with a short brown bob looked up to you and Megumi walking in, adjusting herself at the front of the counter next to a bakery display waiting for you to approach.

“Hi,” you greeted back.

“Do you two need help with anything?”

“Not looking for anything particular, thank you though,” you answered, turning to look at Megumi only to see him already looking around the place, specifically staring off towards a shelf of books.

“Ok, well let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded as the girl went back to her previous task. There were only a couple of other people inside the place, probably less than ten. It was larger than you expected it to be from the outside exterior, but still very homey. You had just begun to take a few steps in, only for Megumi to grab your hand and lead the way.

“Look,” he said once stopping in front of a shelf, picking a book out and handing it to you. “One of my favorites.” You were a little taken aback, but just smiled looking at it, front and back, trying to figure out what it was. “How is your eyesight that good you saw this from the entrance?”

“Can you do that again?” You looked up, only to see him pull out a smaller camera from his jacket’s pocket. Smaller than the one you had seen him with before. How did you not notice he was carrying that?

“Uhm, okay,” and you repeated your action, feeling slightly strange, but at least he seemed more alive now.

“Thank you.” His smile at that moment was contagious, seeming genuinely happy.

“Was that just for you or for your project?” you asked, mirroring his expression.

“Do you want your hint for the day?”

“Yes please.” He leaned his camera towards you, showing you the four photos he took, “They are for the project,” he informed.

“What’s wrong with your loaf?”

“What?” Megumi looked up from his page, eyes wide full of confusion.

“The pastry you ordered, you took two bites and haven’t touched it since.” You had been watching Megumi for the past thirty minutes he’s been sitting across from you. Although you both originally started with conversation that had slowly filed down into you guys reading what you had chosen. You thought back to what Nobara had said over text and couldn’t help but think maybe she was right. He’d probably be happy if you had just taken him outside then given him a book.

“Oh,” he looked down next to him, starring at the piece of bread on the small plate, “It’s just.. too sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

He looked back up at you, shrugging before picking up his mug taking a sip of his dark coffee. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.” He placed the cup back down, then went back to reading.

“You’re such an interesting man Megumi.”

“Really?” he questioned looking back up to you.

“You’re interesting to me.” He just looked at you, both of you making eye contact for a few seconds, and he failed to look away on time so you wouldn’t see the pink dusting his face. “Thanks I guess.”

Author’s Note: concrete🎀

um so complications irl, am not able to finish the next chapter today, will post two chapters for tomorrows update promise 😊🤞

hope you guys enjoyed!!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng @molovs

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starlight-library · 10 months ago

Text

Opposites attract | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x technical theater!y/n (they/them)

summary: you visit max after a long tech weekend, which is in time for the miami gp

warnings: fluff, google translated dutch (so sorry), me geeking out about my profession, maybe accidental OOC??, suggestive

a/n: reader is AFAB gender neutral! request open! sorry in advance cause there's no proofreading, im dying like a man. also first time writing don’t kill me ❤️

wc: 1.3K

Tech was the best and worst time of the year. The best time since the actors, director, crew, and creative all come together to finally put the show together. The best time because the show is officially handed over to the stage manager. It was also the worst time because of such long hours, lots of hold, and the stage manager’s sanity is holding on by a thread.

The first day wasn’t so bad. You arrived at the theater at 8am. You found your table and laid everything out. Your ASM and PA, your life line and team members, made sure everything else was set up. The other technicians arrived at 9am as they stated on the schedule and finally actors arrived at 10am. You had everyone in a circle introducing themselves to the new group: name, pronouns, role, fun fact. Then the director stated you guys would be going from top of the show and this was your time and your rehearsal. It was long but quick.

The second and third day were killer though. It was painfully slow as techs were. You spend most of your day here. Stage managers were the first ones in and last ones out and this tech was a 10 out of 12 (breaks for lunch, obviously, but you spend literally 12 hours in a dark theater just stopping and going while they add lights, sound, props, costumes, etc.) What’s worse is because you’re running the show you have to stay on top of everything, unless an emergency of course.

That includes not being able to really talk to your boyfriend.

You and Max were very keen on communicating and checking in since both your jobs were so demanding. Sometimes you guys could talk for hours while others it was a simple ‘hi dear, hope you have a good day’ ‘hi schatje, hope you’re sleeping well’ but when you were in tech it was a miracle if you sent a good morning text to inform him you were alive.

It’s around one am when you arrive back to the housing provided by the theater. By the time you get ready for bed it’s one thirty. You’re exhausted and your body is so desperately craving the sleep it’s been lacking but you will yourself to check your phone.

10 am:

Good morning, schatje ❤️. I hope you have a good day at tech today.

12pm:

Make sure you eat something today, please. I know how busy things can get sometimes. I’ll send you money to eat. I cannot believe the theater isn’t providing food for you or the crew. I can call them and give them a piece of my mind.

3pm:

Why did tech have to land on this weekend? It’s different with you not here. Are you watching at least?

…you know I can pay for you. You don’t have to work if you don’t want.

5pm:

Practice was okay. The random rain shower made things interesting for sure. Not my best time but I managed.

I miss you.

10pm:

I love you Schatje. I’m going to head to bed. Wish you were here with me. ❤️

Your heart pulls reading the messages. You quickly type out a few replies to Max:

Hi darling, I’m okay Yes, I made sure I ate today. No you don’t have to call the theater. It’s fine.

That’s called a sugar baby, darling. Not that I wouldn’t mind… I miss you too. I wish tech was over already so we could talk more :(

Well that’s Florida for you. But I’m sorry. I bet you still did amazing. I love you too. I’ll talk to you soon love, sleep well ❤️

You put your phone down after and let yourself drift off to sleep.

—————————————

“Alright Jonathan, I’ll talk to you later…bye now.”

Pocketing your phone when the conversation ends, you shuffle around your room as you get dressed. You’re thankful practice and qualifiers are late in the day giving you the extra sleep you need. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you do a spin. Sneakers, skirt, and one of the many fan designed Red Bull shirts you bought. This one was based off of Taylor’s Swift ‘Eras Tour’ but instead had pictures of your boyfriend and said ‘Verstappen’ instead. Grabbing your sunglasses, bag, and paddock pass you triple checked everything before heading off on your adventure.

Arriving to the paddock you easily scan in and navigate your way through. You keep your head down eyes glued to your phone and nobody really bats an eye to you. Thank god. You didn’t want the surprise to be ruined. Your eyes scan before you find the Red Bull garage. You slow your steps as you scan the garage not spying your boyfriend. A frown pulls to your lips as you step in, sunglasses being pushed to rest on the top of your head as you find Christian.

“Christian,” you call out with a smile as the principal turns. You make your way over and give him a quick hug.

“Oh Y/N,” Christian says and you see relief wash over him, “thank god you’re here. Max has been a fucking terror so far.” The remark makes you laugh, “I’m serious! He’s been extra grumpy since we arrived. I had to threaten to ban you from the garage to get him to tone it down. Handle him. Please.”

“I will when I find out exactly where he is.”

“Driver’s room.”

“Thank you. Promise he’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

“He better!” You hear Christian call out as you leave the garage. It does not take you long to find Max’s room and you know on the door.

You hear some shuffling and swearing in Dutch before the door swings open. You’re met with a “what?” and a scowl which causes you to smile brightly. “Fancy seeing you here,” you tease and watch Max’s scowl fall as it takes him a moment to process before you’re yanked forward.

You crash into his chest and laughs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in the crook of his neck as he hugs you tightly. He pulls away as he cups your face.

“I—schatje! What are you here? I thought you were working all weekend?”

“Between rehearsal and tech, we reached 42 hours. Jonathan said it wasn’t worth calling equity up to try and get overtime. So, he gave us the weekend off,” you beam and burst into laughter as he smothers your face in kisses, smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you’ve been very grumpy these past few days,” you remark through giggles.

“I have,” he replies bluntly, “you’ve been so busy and this Grand Prix has been testing my patience,” it’s his turn to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Your eyes flutter close and you let a breathy sigh escape feeling his lips leave feathery kisses along your neck.

“Max..”

“Missed you,” Max mumbled through kisses as he works his way up your neck to your jaw, “missed my good luck charm on my arm,” he kisses along your jaw, “missed having you wait for me in my driver’s room,” he makes his way up to your bottom lip and nips, “we have so much catching up to do..”

Turning your head away, giggling, “you have practice and qualifiers to get through first, mister,” You say earning a very small pout from the Dutchman, “how about, you place top five for qualifiers and I’ll spend the night at your hotel.” You let a finger gently trail long his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest before he drops.

Max follows your finger eyes darkening as he sticks his tongue out slightly to lick his bottom lip. Looking back up at you, “and if I get pole?”

Smiling innocently, you bat your lashes, “why do you think I wore a skirt?” A voice rings out for Max. Max groans as he squeezes you. He leans down to kiss your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “I expect you back here after qualifiers, bent over, skirt up for me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. He smirks and you want to wipe that smirk off his face. The voice is closer and you quick Max a quick peck with a grin, “good luck, sweetheart.” You purr softly and turn out of his grasp and disappear to the motorhome to enjoy the last few hours of your ability to walk.

#starlight library presents;#mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 x theater partner #starlight library fiction #max x technical theater partner #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen smut #mv1 smut

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onskepa · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii friend!! Could i get a Norm adopts the Sarentu ask kids and also Spider? In this universe the timeline is a bit different, right after the final battle of A1 the Sarentu are still kids and after Ahari’s death, Alma manages to help them escape and send them far away ( aka to where the omatikaya live) so Mercer can’t get to them. And there Norm adopts them after he had already adopted Spider. And then siblings shenanigans ensue.

OOOOOOOOOOOH~!!! YES YES YES~!! TIME FOR NORM TO SHINE ON THIS ONE! HOPE YOU ENJOY~!

P.S: The sarentu player is named paw in this story , also paw and telisi are girls. Yefti is mute and a boy!

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

Full house

Norm was just norm. A skinny, nerdy guy with a huge fascination with anything foreign and new. He was just as normal as his name. Norm. He is not much of a warrior like his best friend, or a snappy, demanding director like his old friend and mentor Grace. Yes he is strong when needed to be, not afraid to be in the front lines when it is called.

He is not a lot of things. That much is certain. What norm is, is a nature loving, gentle soul, loyal, respectful, kinda, and above all, loving.

What norm is not, or more over, what he never thought he would ever be, is a parent.

Not a parent to one child, he never expected he would be a parent to 9 children.

One human, and 8 na’vi children.

“You’re kidding” norm says, not really believing what he just heard.

“I am not, believe me norm, I almost didn't believe it at first either” Jake says.

“No, I have to hear it myself. Replay it” norm says, max nods, replaying a message they were sent just an hour ago.

It was an audio, a bit scuffled but loud and clear was the voice of a woman.

“Hello? This is Alma Cortez. I am a researcher and Co director of TAP. An education branch of the RDA. I don't have a lot of time but I am seeking help from the RDA rebels, more specifically Jake sully, aka Toruk Makto, and Grace Agustine. There are na’vi children here being held against their will. They need help and I alone cannot do it. I need-God damn it! Grace if you are hearing this, please! I need your help! They are not all dead! I repeat! The Sarentu children are alive!”

Norm can say he has been into battles and raids enough times to see some patterns, alternatives, can even predict how it will end. Call it cheesy but he is the man of loyalty and would do anything to protect those he cares about.

Among the people he has come to care about more than his own life, was his newly adopted son that enjoy being called “spider”

Bright, crazy, and will try different ways to kill himself simply by being curious of the world he was born in. A walking happy, stress inducing little being spider is for Norm. Full of surprises, and norm enjoys that.

The biggest surprise was him being born.

And norm is always grateful for that, always thanking Eywa everyday. Yup, parenthood sure is something not many today plan for.

“Well, each of us can watch over him, like that old saying goes, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’” Max suggests. A group of the science guys have found baby spiders in the old dormitories for the female soldiers. Only a few months old, skinny little guy.

It wasn't long before they did a DNA scan of who he belonged to. The results were both scary yet unsurprising. It was after that many did not wish to get involved with the baby.

“I will do it” , the norm says, more like announcing it.

Picking up spider, wrapping him up in his little blankie, he says it again, “I will be his parent”

“Does this count as a reverse kidnapping?” Max asks.

It was night, using nature to cover the scorpion plane, waiting for an important package. Jake, Norm, Trudy, Max and Grace were all waiting patiently for Alma to come to them with the sarentu children that were being held within the human facility.

“I see it as a rescue mission” Trudy says, her eyes not being away from her port.

“It is a rescue mission” Grace affirms, her eyes scanning through the foliage for any movement. Being silent and listening carefully for any sounds of footsteps. Her concentration was a bit out of character for her. None have seen her this serious before.

“It will be a huge cultural shock to these poor kids” max says, filling out the silence of the soundless night.

“Cultural? More of a world shock, metal walls and holograms is all they ever knew” Jake replies. All of them have heard the tragic news of a fallen na’vi clan, how there were no survivors and even more tragic there was no way to help them. Grace was more hit on a personal level, felt more helpless, as feeling that it was somehow her fault when really it wasn't.

“They will struggle, a lot of struggling, getting back to their roots and relearn everything. It's very sad " Norm comments. His thoughts drift to spider, thinking what it would have been like for his son. To be brainwashed and never been allowed to do things that he was born to do. A hell no child should go through.

“I know I am thinking ahead but…..who will take in these kids?” Trudy asks suddenly.

“Hi! Im spider! And I am your big brother!” little spider proudly points to himself as he talks to the newly arrived na’vi children. He was so excited to meet them the moment norm told him who was coming. New friends and new siblings!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jake asks, he and his friends huddle on the farthest corner of the old hells gate. Everyone watching the sarentu children carefully.

“They seem very comfortable with spider” Max points out.

“Its because he is human, didn't you see their faces? Seeing native na’vi? They looked horrified, "Grace whispers.

“STAY AWAY!! LEAVE US ALONE!!”

“ENGLISH!! WE DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU!!”

“THEY ARE GOING TO KILL US!!”

8 sarentu children huddled together, tears flowing down from their eyes, little bodies trembling in fear. Circling the younger ones, as they all scream and cry in utter terror. Surrounding them was what was supposed to be a welcoming celebration to these unfortunate children. What was supposed to be loving, cheerful, and harmouns, the children only feared things that they don't understand.

And what they dont understand is the native na’vi are right in front of them, speaking in a language they dont understand.

“And what is your name…?” Norm asks softly to the sniffling children, after what felt like forever with a touch of a miracle, the sarentu children have calmed down. A great thanks to Norm. Using his already experience with spider, he flawlessly managed to gather the 8 children and have them stop crying.

“M-my name is nor…” the little boy stutters out as he wipes away his tears. Holding hands with little teylan and ri’nela.

“That is a wonderful name, and you” norm compliments as he turns to one of the little girls. Looking down shyly as she plays with her hands, “my name is paw….”

“Im t-telisi….” another little girl says, being slightly more confident. Holding her hand was one of the older children. He was trying to look tough, brave and tall. Norm knew he too was scared inside but rather not show it.

“This is Yuayt….and-”

“ACHOO!!”

Telisi was cut off from a sneeze, coming from another little girl.

“And she is okni, she gets sick easily,” Telisi informs.

Okni was rubbing her nose when another little boy, ripping a piece of his shirt to wipe her nose.

“And that is yefti….”

Norm took a good look at all of the sarentu children. He was about the make the more bizarre choice ever in his life. Perhaps more bizarre than all of the bizarre ideas. He was gonna make all of these sarentu children into Spellman children.

“Come on slow pokes!!”

“Yeah! I'm smaller yet faster than any of you!!”

“Telisi! Spider! Be Careful!”

9 little spellman children were exploring the vast forest that was now their forever home. There is always an adventure to explore, little mysteries to solve and skills to hone.

Spider and Telisi make way for their other siblings as they fearlessly go ahead. Not far behind was nor and ri’nela with teylan between them. Nor trying his best to keep while ri’nela takes her sweet time. Behind them yuayt giving okni a piggyback right while paw was holding okni’s hand and yefti being comfortably silent beside them.

“Feeling any better okni?” paw asks, giving her sister a gentle squeeze on her hand. Okni nods, giving a reassuring smile.

“That medicine better work, or else we will use the medicine that humans use” yuayt says.

Paw frowns a bit, “don't be like that, the tsahik is a master of healing. It is her life's job, why do you still doubt her skills?” she asks her brother. Yefti also gives a disapproving look to his brother.

“It's been a year already and Okni is still sick. In my eyes, there hasn't been any changes” yuayt replies.

“She stopped having accidents at night. Not puking as much and can now sleep through the night without any interruptions. I see that as major progress” yefti signs. Trying to points out the positive outcomes from mo’ats medicines.

“He is right, and okni can eat more now!” paw adds.

“Not enough” yuayt scoffs.

“Dont be meanie” okni whispers as she gently pokes her brother's cheek.

Yuayt stopped complaining after that.

“Spider! Telisi! Slow down! Ma’eywa!” nor shouts, giving up on telling his siblings to not go that far ahead.

Ri’nela giggles as she helps Teylan go over a big tree root.

“It is futile brother, they are just too energetic” she says. Nor sighs, she is right. Out of everyone, his two older siblings are such a chaotic duo. They were slowing down for the other trio to catch up.

Teylan looks over to see yefti and smiles, “YEEYEE!!” he shouts excitedly.

Yefti smiles, seeing his baby brother and runs over to him. Teylan reaches out his little arms, wanting to be picked up, to which yefti happily complies.

“You spoil him brother” nor says.

Yefti merely shrugs, “it makes him happy. Also he wants to copy okni” he signs.

“Speaking of, I can carry okni if you are getting tired yuayt” ri’nela offers as her brother gets closer.

Yuayt shakes his head, “im fine, okni is lighter than that little fatty”

Okni hit him in the back of the head, “done be a meanie, teylan isnt fat, just squishy” she gently scolds.

“Eerr….teylan’s appetite is growing…” paw says.

“Its fine, with all the running and climbing, he won't be squishy forever” ri’nela says as she gives teylan a playful pinch on his chubby cheeks.

“He won't if yefti keeps carrying him like a baby” nor comments.

“Teylan is a baby” yefti signs.

“I'm gonna beat you spider man!!” telisi teases.

“NEVER!!! They don't call me monkey boy for nothing!!” spider shouts.

Both laugh and cheer to their hearts content as they run through the vast forest, not caring to stop. Letting the wind hit their faces, overcoming any obstacle and quick thinking.

Climbing to the floating mountains do they see their goal.

“I'm gonna win~!!” telisi shouts enthusiastically.

Spider summoned all his strength and went even faster, going past telisi and makes the leap of faith.

“SPIDER!!!” his sister screams, stopping to witness him jump from the edge of the cliff and flying towards the nearest landing.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

Spider braced for impact, his side landing first on the rocky ground. Grunting in pain, and a bit dizzy, he shakly gets up. Dusting off the dirt and rubble, he laughs.

“HA!!! I WIN!!” he cheers.

Telisi shakes her head, huffing loudly.

“Dad is going to skin you…”

“OOOOOOOWW!! OWOWOWOWOW!!!” the spider squeaks in pain.

Ri’nela sighs, trying to gently tend to his bruising and scratches.

“You are lucky dad is busy with Jake, he will be very angry when he finds out what you did” she scolds her big brother.

Spider chuckles a bit, “I couldn't let telisi beat me, my record would be broken”

“I like competition brother, but never when it comes to risking our lives” telisi shouts across from the room they are in.

Okni hears spider in pain, and quietly goes over to him, silently offering some of her medicine. Spider gently denies.

“I'm ok sis. Don't waste your medicine, you need it more than I do”

Okni slight frowns. Offering it again.

“Spider is right. It is not easy for the tsahik to make that medicine, okni. Only you can use it” ri’nela says as she adds the last bandaged on spider’s side.

“Kiri can make some. We can ask her” okni finally speaks, clutching her herb pouch.

“Kiri is too busy looking at pretty flowers to make medicine” yuayt scoffs. He and teylan were messing with some old technology equipment. More like yuayt trying to make sure no small piece gets into teylan’s mouth.

“Can anything positive come out of your snarky mouth?” nor asks a bit sarcastically. Earning a glare from yuayt, “When you stop bitching like a-”

“Ok that's enough you two” spider interrupts what could be another round of word fighting.

Yuayt rolls his eyes, lifting teylan from the table, handing him over to yefti who gladly accepts. Grabbing his knife and gun, he makes his way to the exit. The other kids following his movement.

“And where are you going?” telisi asks.

“Somewhere” yuayt replies and leaves.

Almost everyone shakes their head.

“I will get the fire started, no doubt he is coming back with some good yerik” ri’nela informs. Telisi and Paw quickly helped her.

Norm walks into his home after saying his nightly farewells to Jake and his family. It was a long day with so many things to do, but happy he will come home to his kids. Chuckling to himself, norm cant help but smile widely. It has been a year since the kids were rescued from the hellish TAP facility and already have grown so much.

A lot has happened, overcoming trauma is not an easy thing. The Sarentu children were easily scared when starting to live here. Scared about everything, even seeing other na’vi. Norm still couldnt believe a lot has progressed over one year. Though not all is perfect and not every wound is healed.

There is still a lot left to do for these kids, his kids.

And speaking of his kids, norm opens the door and-

“TOO MUCH SALT IS BAD!!”

“NO! IT MAKES IT TASTY!!”

“WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT?!”

“FROM YOUR ASS! WHERE ELSE IDIOT! THE KITCHEN!”

Yup, another round of spellman chaos.

“HEY!”

All the spellman children stopped what they were doing and stared at norm.

“DAD!!” they all cheered. Forgetting about their argument, everyone ran towards their father. Jumping on him, hugging him, shouting so many things at the same time.

“Easy! One at a time!” He tries to settle down the kids.

“Dad! Nor added too much salt into the stew!”

“So what?!”

“Daaaaaaaaaaad!! Yuayt called nor a bitch again!”

“Dad dad dad!!! Spider did a dumb move today!!”

“Why are you snitching on me!? Dad I know who telisi’s crush is”

“DON'T YOU DARE!!”

“OK OK!! QUIET DOWN!!” norm shouts.

Everyone dispersed, giving norm room to get up and observe what is going on. From the smell and obvious pot cooking, it smelled like yerik meat stew. Knowing instantly, norm turns to yauyt.

“Did you hunt today?” he asks.

Yuayt shrugs, “why ask if you already know the answer”

Yefti slapped his arm, “really?” he signs.

Paw tugged on norms shirt, eagerly wanting to say something.

“Yes paw?” norm turns to her.

“Can we watch a movie after eating?” she asks, trying to look cute to convince him. Ruffling her hair, norm smiles, “lets eat first then we shall se

“Dad,” Telisi calls. Now turning to her, norm lets her continue.

“Spider jumped off a cliff and almost died” she tattles.

“SPIDER WHAT?!”

“SNITCHES GET STITCHES!!” spider warns.

“WHO IS WEARING THE STITCHES RIGHT NOW?!”

“Finally…..” norm can breathe in relaxation. After a hearty meal the food coma hit everyone.

Norm tucks little teylan between paw and yefti. Beside paw was Okni, who was also beside yuat. On the other side of yefti was nor and ri’nela. Spider and Telisi were sleeping over their other sleeping siblings. As if to protect them even as they slumber through the night.

Norm quietly observes the children. Everyday he gives his best, gives his thanks as he couldnt believe his luck. 9 beautiful children. Chaotic and rowdy but good kids.

Many wonder how norm does it. Every time he is asked, “how do you do it?” or “have you lost your mind yet?”

Many times was norm close to losing his mind, but knows better. Constantly reminding himself that his children could have been in worse situations. That they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the call for help.

Jake at times would say “got a full house there norm”

Yeah, he was right. A single man trying to raise 9 kids does insane, lunatic, but norm enjoys all of it. And there is nothing in this world or the next would norm trade it for anything. His kids are not just sarentu or human kids, no, they are spellman children and norm be damned if others say anything else.

Aaaaaaaand that is it for this one! This fic took me a good while because I was trying to get every scrap of information about the other sarentu children. See what personalities I can create.

Until the other sarentu children are properly shown in the frontiers, this is what I cam up with. So I hope you guys enjoyed it! Until next time! See ya!

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popcornforone · 21 days ago

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I’ll Make An Exception

A Frankie (Catfish) Morales Fic

Day 20 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

Ooooh so you all liked soft Frankie reading Fink did you (im publishing this now I’m home from my second viewing of The Wild Robot in 48hs) well today you get a bit more of the menace that we all fantasise about. God he’s talented.

Synopsis:- it’s the morning after you met a hot stranger at the bar.

Word count:-1100

Warnings over & above:- most of this is done by messages to each other, masturbation,naughty photos suggesting activities, sexual tension, swearing, alcohol, hook up friends with benefits.

Thanks for giving this a read my loves. As always please thank @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for setting this up.

Had the night before been a blur, or did it happen? You weren’t sure. You knew you were overly tired on this Sunday morning. Not actual hangover that made you dash to the bathroom to be sick but you did have a small headache. Past you knew this would be the case for Louisa birthday & you had a bottle of water & some painkillers by the bed, past you knew future you would need them. You’d also clearly had not been that tipsy as you had got home, locked the house up, taken your make up off & changed into your sleep shirt. That blue & white stripy one. Yet as you laid there thinking about if you should get brunch, you also felt happy. Like something had happened the night before.

That’s when your 11:30 emergency alarm went off. You knew you didn’t want to sleep in & not get any sleep before work on Monday on Sunday night. You’d learnt from past mistakes. As your hand reached to turn it off it stopped. This made you sit up in bed & reach for the phone.

Unknown number

1 message

You swiped & clicked & your eyes widened.

Morning beautiful, hope you got in okay last night 😘

It floods back. The handsome man at the bar. The one with the dirty cap that looked older than him. The stray locks & curls trying to escape it. Big brown eyes. Soft large hands. A grey shirt & jeans which well showed him off in all his glory.

You lie in bed & smile. Your friends know you often don’t like guys to flirt with you at bars, but you signaled to them that this one was fine. He had started out nervous, but from your memory you remember a gently kiss on the back of your hand, you kissing his beard patch, & vaguely remember grabbing his phone to put his number in, before your girls dragged you to the next bar for their happy hour. Your eyes lingering on him for as long as you could. Your blushing right now thinking about him, when the next message pings through.

If you don’t remember me that’s fine, but I just want to check your okay.

You smile & reply to him.

Morning, I’m alive not hungover how are you… frankie?

Your being honest when you ask that, something in the back of you mind just clicked that this was his name.

Ahhh I’m so glad you’re alright, & yes I am Frankie… how many guys did you give your number to last night? You know he’s starting off soft but you can tell from the messages & how you body feels as you think of him, that he could be the right kind of trouble for you.

Just the one, he was kinda cute & shy, I liked him. You can’t see frankie blush as he reads that message.

Lucky him, so I didn’t scare you off?

No 2 for 1 cocktails are clearly more important to my friends than my dating life

Which is?

Until last night none exisitant

& now?

Possible

So you think I’m a good dancing partner?

Whoever said we’d go dancing?

I mean in bed?

You almost choke on your bottle of water at his reply, he’s being forward now he’s realised you’re up for it. It’s not usually what you go for but you are enjoying this. Your arousal growing, tempted to get out your vibrator as you message this handsome stranger from the night before.

Well that all depends, I like whoever I bed to take me on a date first

Ooooh so dinner before desert

Yes

Hmmmm & what would I wake up to each morning if I decided to peruse this. You then quickly snap a selfie not caring how bad your hair is & send it to him so he can see you sleeping in the sleep shirt. Frankie has to palm his cock instantly once he receives the photos.

Any panties under that?

Yes, a small red thong

Damn it baby

& you frankie? What does a smoking hot pilot wear to bed. Your turn to receive a topless selfie, you lick your lips looking at his good body, his chest you want to bury your head in as you bounce up & down on his cock moaning his name as he grabs your arse & he tells you to be a good girl. Your own hand goes to your clit.

Hmmm nice view

I think mine would be better. You then do the ultimate power move & take your thong off & send him a photo of it on the bedroom floor.

Well I’m sure that’s a view you’d like to see.

You fucking tease

You started it

Did not

Did too 🤪

You go back & forth with this. Your pace picking up. He’s asked you if you like someone in control, if you shut your eyes when you cum. The friction unbearable & you moan in a voice note going fuck yes. You have know I dear that this send him over the edge too. Frankie cums all over his hand. A waste he says to himself. After all the self pleasure he then send you one final message.

What if you turned your location on right now to your phone? What would happen?

I dunno come round & find out. You turn on your location & then hear nothing at all for 15mins. You lie there damp & ready to be ravaged by a man who you know nothing about other than he likes to pull a girls hair as she sits as his reverse cow girl.

Then the door bell goes off & you walk downstairs to open it. There in the midday sun stand frankie, he’d clearly thrown on what was near him, long shorts with paint stains on them a grey tshirt & that cap. you stand there still in just your night shirt & look at him.

“Hello handsome”

“Hi does this count as a date?” He asks as he clicks his keys to make sure his truck is locked & you can see his other hand is over his manhood trying to not cum at the state of you in a bed shirt that just about covers your bum.

“No but for you sexy”You wink & grab his hand”I’ll make an exception”

You drag him into your house & lock the door & he pushes you up against it. Clothes fly off everywhere as what was going to be your lazy Sundays for recovery becomes one of the most passionate afternoons of love making in your life.

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abbyslev · 1 year ago

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𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀- 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

A/N: JUNE ACTUALLY WROTE WTF YOU GUYS WHAT WHAT WHAT OMG its not my best and there will def be a smutty part 2… just be happy i ever wrote LMAOOO but guys let’s thank me elvis presley for inspiring me to write this

WARNINGS: not proofread at all sorry guys it’s 2 am

It was uncomfortably hot, your body feeling waves of heat overcome it.

You fan your face, walking away from the crowd of people. “Where are you going?” Sasha yelled over the loud music, holding onto your arm. “Outside. Need air.” You just smile before walking away. You push the door, back leaning against the cold doors.

Ah, the simple regret. You hated studying and sticking your nose in a book, so you chose to party. You never seem to grasp the fact that you lived in the city, and partying is just what young adults did all weekend. You hated crowded parties.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. You picked it up, the light flashing your sensetive eyes.

Hange

u still alive?

Yeahhh just rlly crowded

Hange

omg you never learn

lol

no i’m outside rn

breathing air

Hange

ur funny

what time r u planning to come home?

i’m at the library rn

and how drunk r u

drunk off my ass

very much so

ohhh is it busy

Hange

yes

what library is busy at 2 am

smartass

call me

You smiled at the last message before pushing the call button. “Hey.” Hange’s raspy voice came from your speaker. You sat on the floor, playing with the strings of your shoes. “Aren’t you supposed to be quiet in the library?” You smiled.

“Well no one is here.” You could practically hear their smirk. “Ok, i get it.” You rolled your eyes. “Why are you studying this late anyway?” “Big assessment tomorrow. It's huge and we have to mix chemicals and stuff.” “Tough shit. You think Professor Erwin’s gonna kill you if you fail?” “What part of ‘huge’ did you miss?” Hange smiled.

“Pshhh, don’t ask me. I couldn’t even tell you the color of the sky right now.” You leaned your head back, closing your eyes. “Do you have someone to walk you home?” Hange’s tone changed. “I’m not gonna lie, I came here alone.” You sighed.

“Someone’s gotta be there.” “I got Sash.” You rubbed your eyes. “That’s fine, as long as she can walk you home. Or someone… besides that Ymir girl… she’s too touchy.” Hange said. You froze, sitting up. “What do you mean?” You pushed more.

Why would Hange ever care about your past flings. “Well, she’s just weird.” Hange played it off with a laugh. “Cause we were a thing?” You squinted. “Not necessarily…” They trailed off. “It’s because we were a thing.” You said ina. demanding tone. “I’m not repeating myself.” Hange hummed.

You stayed quiet for a moment. “Are you jealous?” You laugh. Now it was Hange’s turn to stay silent. “Why would I be jealous?” Hange nervously chuckled. “Because you and I know there’s something going on.” You lowered your tone.

“You’re drunk off your ass!” Hange laughed. “Am I really?” You challenged them. You knew that if you were sober, these words would not be leaving your mouth. But there was so much tension between you and Hange, it was hard to deny.

Your friends always told you to reconsider your thoughts about Hange. You brushed it off, not wanting to ruin everything. You were feeling quite confident at this moment.

“You tell me.” Hange snarked back. “Well, I think you and I know what’s really going on here.” You bit your lip. “And what is that exactly?” “That we both know this whole roommate's bullshit is just an excuse to be around eachother. We both know there’s more to that.”

Hange stayed silent. “I’m going home.” You hang up the phone, standing from the floor.

Your head laid against the cold wall, head pounding. You heard a chuckle.

Hange took their key, fitting in the lock. “Did you forget your key?” “I was waiting on you.” You shook your head. Hange helped you up, rushing you inside.

“What was that whole thing about?” Hange asked you, kneeling to take off your shoes. “Just some drunk thoughts.” “Which are sober ones?” Hange pulled off your shoe, standing back up. “Maybe.” “Why can’t we talk about this when you’re sober?” Hange set down their backpack, cheeks turning red.

You stayed silent, looking down. You felt Hange’s warm lips on yours, back pressing against the kitchen counter. They held your face in between their hands, lips softly molding with yours. They pulled back, panic in their voice. “I should’ve asked, I'm sorry.” They blushed harder. You shook your head, pushing their foggy glasses up. You kissed them again, before pecking their face over and over again.

“You reconsider what I said.” You kiss their nose once more.

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scooburst · 9 days ago

Text

So here’s everything you need to know about the current situation.

My whole phone is on lockdown. I’ve been told when it finally comes back, I’ll have to delete tumblr and discord. Hopefully I can use the website and get around it. My parents are looking at blocking it on my computer as well. I don’t think they can, but thier also monitoring it so I’ll have to be very careful. I have five minutes after 7:00 AM EST to be here before it’s over. Throughout the day, I will be on for one minute twice (two one minute sessions) just to check in. From there I might be able to answer one or two asks and quickly peak at my notifications. I’ll say in the mornings a few things; what happened yesterday, updates on the situation, and if I’m okay. That will be all I’ll be able to post. Sometimes if I have it at night, I’ll come on just to say goodnight or answer a few more asks. But again, it’s only a minute. I’m trying my best to stay calm for this but it’s not going great.

What exactly happened is a bit more complicated. I’ll recount it for you all just so it’s understandable. My parents at some point looked over my computer, which was logged into tumblr and discord, and decided I was talking to complete strangers and being dangerous. Yes I was talking to people online but I was being safe, and I don’t think they’d listen to that. But that isn’t exactly stopping me from talking to those “strangers”. I don’t think my parents really even see you people as humans that are good people. But. You know. I can’t fix that. So now my phone is locked down. I can only text them and one of my friends. I can use the bare essentials. All I know is at some point it’ll be unlocked, and I’ll have to delete these sites. I’ll try to plan for that best I can. But that’s essentially what’s going on.

As for the discord if anyone’s on that. The management of it is being handled by people I trust most there. Use it however you like, and to those two: Do whatever you want with it, but keep it free and open to anyone. All I want is for you all to continue making sure the people there are okay. I will pop in every day and say I’m alive, but really not much else. And yes I will read the messages, as much as I can.

Now that that’s over, onto the newly scheduled post.

Date of writing: 11/1/24

Am I okay: not really, but I’m alive and “healthy”

Things that happened: today, I have a hockey game, and we got evacuated early from school because of bomb threats. At home I kinda just walked around. I played a little bit of guitar, I’ve been listening to music and built legos. I’m doing some puzzles as well. I’m trying to take care of myself to hopefully get my parents to let me back here.

Log: today, I was taking the chance I had to look through my notifications. And I cried. At everything you all wrote to me. I’m going to miss you all so much. You all are such amazing people. I can’t say I didn’t think you’d all say that, but it still caught me off guard. Thanks. I’m glad you all are still going, as far as I know. Keep that going. Dying isn’t good for you! I also saw someone made a whole blog of days without me. That’s insane. I don’t know what to say to that. Hopefully, it doesn’t have to count to high. I’m gonna write your urls all down so I can visit you all when I can finally be back officially. I know this is all probably really confusing with me still responding to things, but it’s just a very complicated situation right now. It sucks tp not have things like this to vent and feel better, but I have started to keep a journal so I can place my thoughts somewhere and I’m going to eventually try to open up to one of my close irl friends to hopefully have someone to talk too. I’m probably never going to just move on from this, it’ll always be something I remember and maybe something that still hurts, but it’s still some of the best memories I’ve ever had even if I cry thinking about it. I’m doing my best here to distract myself, get back into reading, maybe slowly try to build my parents trust that I can handle my phone, even though I could already. But it’s fine. Ive found a lot of entertainment in the photos app recently. Maybe when I come back I’ll share it all with you. Sorry these posts are so long. I’m just trying to stay here as much as I can. But jsut know not to worry, becahse I’m still okay, and I’m alive. Apparently I’m going to be talked to about discord and tumblr. There is some hope I can stay, but we’ll see. Either way im a sneaky boi :)

The last thing I want to say is that whoever made that blog counting how long I’m gone, you are so appreciated. I appreciate all of you really. And all of you who’ve made a post tagging me about whatever experiences you’ve had with me or put it in my askbox, you’ve made me feel so much better about this just knowing I didn’t fuck it up with you. If you didn’t make anything like that, don’t feel obligated to. Just knowing you’re alive is the best thing for me right now. Stay safe, if not for yourself, for me, and if not for me, then for someone else. I’m doing the same for all of you.

ALSO! Ima probaly make a tag list for this so you can get this as soon as possible! I know this is almost becoming a newsletter but hey that works. So if you wanna be on it, just say so (preferably in a reply or reblog to this post, with nothing but that you want in, separate from any comments about the post itself. It helps!)

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lalachat · 7 months ago

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"And there you were..."

Author's note: Hey girl hey... I'm back! Im sorry for the prolonged time between these late chapters:( Fixations are weird and frangible things. You have one for a month and then get tired of it, but come back to the same one every now and then. That's basically what writing is for me... I know it may not be fair to you readers but I am trying my best because i truly love you guys... This is not the best thing that I have written for this story, but we are finally at the end! It has been a rollercoaster for us all. Thank you for those who have stuck with me since day one and thank you for those who randomly stumble upon this shit show of a story and send me sweet messages<3 I hope this is good enough xoxo

Summary: Crossing over the rainbow bridge is not what you expected it to be, especially when you're told you cannot stay long, but everything was worth it in the end.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and a happily ever after!

Word Count: ≈ 2,237

Chapter 11: You're my mate

“Who are you and where am I?” you blinked rapidly at the blinding light invading your gaze.

“Welcome my child, you know where you are and you know who I am-” the voice sent a warmth through your body at the raw power it held, yet it was still tenderhearted.

You blinked a couple more times to readjust your sight at the most ethereal woman you have ever seen standing before you. This cannot be real…

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” you asked.

“Not quite, I fear I have taken you too soon,” she gave you a soft smile as the realization hit you. Only one person could take your life too soon.

“Oh my gods, you’re the mother!” You bowed to her immediately, unsure of what the proper greeting was for a celestial being. She giggled.

“No need for such formalities, stand up my child. I have something I wish to discuss.” She offered you her hand which you gladly accepted. You felt a zing rush through you at the touch. The power she held was beyond anything you felt from Rhysand and the other high lords.

“Of course,” you smiled, “What exactly would that be? Have I sinned too much to remain here?!”

She laughed yet again, “You are quite the humorous one, and no, I am not here to discuss your sins. I want to discuss the mistake I made with your mate.”

You stood there in pure shock, “Azriel?”

“Yes, I wholeheartedly apologize for fating you two together. That shadowsinger never got over his self-loathing I’m afraid.” You looked at her puzzled. “You see, when I fated the two of you, I had hoped his self-destructiveness would disappear once he met you,” she smiled at you again as you listened, “that was until Elain Acheron had stepped in and took that place before you ever could.”

“Believe me mother, I am well aware…” you sighed. “I tried so hard,” tears began to form in your eyes.

“Oh my love, I know you did, and this is all my fault. I am sorry for causing you so much suffering. It is clear to me now that I should have fated you to someone else,” she gave you her hand again, “Come walk with me.”

She led you hand in hand over to a cauldron. She waved her hand over it to reveal your friends still circled around your body, only this time a certain auburn-haired male began to awake.

“LUCIEN!” You wept at the sight of his chest rising and falling again, “He’s alive!”

The mother nodded, “I brought him here and sent him back, just like I am about to do with you.”

“I don't understand, why bring us both here in the first place if we are only going to be sent back?” You watched as your friends noticed Lucien’s movements as you still lay there cold.

“Because my child, I have been watching you for quite some time and realized that your love without a bond for another male grew stronger than any completed bond I have ever seen.”

“That’s not possible- nothing is stronger than a completed bond,” you looked at her and shook your head in disbelief.

“I never thought something like this would happen but you two have proven me wrong. You both have just done the impossible,” she smiled at you, and she took hold of both of your hands, “That male loves you more than anything.” Her thumbs caressed the small marking along your wrists, your eyes followed the movement as you chuckled.

“So, what’s going to happen to now?” you looked up at the creator of everything you knew.

“I am going to send you back,” she kissed the top of your forehead and you felt something inside you shift, “I am sorry for taking you both too soon, but it had to be done. I have now made things the way they should be,” she smiled as she gestured to the cauldron.

“What?” you looked at her in disbelief.

“Step into the cauldron, it will take you back to your loved ones.”

You looked in to see Lucien now trying to wake you as the others watched in awe of his liveliness, “Lucien did the same thing?”

“Yes,” she nodded as you began to slowly step your way into the cauldron. You were waist in before you stopped abruptly as anxiety ate at you to ask a certain question.

“I won’t have any special powers like Feyre, Nesta, and Elain right?”

“No, this is different than their rebirth. You will have no power; you will remain as you were before.”

“Good, that’s good. Powers would have been cool though,” you smiled as you submerged the rest of yourself into the sacred artifact. Just before your ears went under you could hear the mother say something to you before you left.

“Everything is alright now, I love you my child. You have made me proud.”

You smiled as the liquid surrounded you and sparkled against your skin. It almost looked like Starfall which made you smile reminding you of home. You were heading back home! You felt your body tense like it was being winnowed back to your reality. It was a weird sensation, but you could slowly feel the memory of the mother and everything she had done for you fade as you passed through a barrier.

“Y/n!” you could hear someone crying out your name. You were trying to regain your senses as firm hands caressed the hair out of your face. One of their tears fell onto your cheek. It almost felt hot. Your eyes squinted at the feeling.

“Lucien look!” Someone cried out, as Lucien’s eyes scanned over your face slightly scrunching up at the foreign feeling of a tear that was not your own on your face. He let out a small, relieved gasp.

“Y/n?” He wiped off his tear that had fallen as he saw your chest take a deep inhale, “Oh my gods!” He wept, “You’re alive… you’re alive!”

His hands caressed your own, trying to give your cold skin more warmth. Azriel letting some of his own tears fall at the sight of you breathing again, Elain was rubbing small circles on his back in comfort. Mor and Feyre’s hands covered their mouths in shock at the events unfolding before them as tears of joy left their eyes. Nesta had let out a much-needed breath she didn’t know she was holding as she smiled at the two of you breathing again. Cassian thanked the mother repeatedly as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s hand with tear filled eyes.

You began to wiggle your toes and fingers, getting used to the feeling of yourself again as you opened your eyes to see Lucien with the biggest smile you have ever seen from him.

“Lucien?” you questioned. Your mind was foggy, unable to really remember anything except the fact the last time you saw him he was dead.

He pressed your hands to his lips, “I’m here…”

You began to cry, “You’re alive!”

He nodded his head as he pulled you into his chest, “And so are you!”

You wrapped your arms around him in an instant, “Don’t ever leave me like that again!”

“Like hell I would live in a world without you,” he smiled as he cupped your face and kissed you tenderly. It’s right then you felt something trying to ignite inside your chest, no restraints or walls were holding it back as it set your soul aflame. You pulled away from Lucien and looked at him in amazement as you sent that flame to where it was trying to pull itself to. Lucien’s eyes widened as he slowly felt his empty chest cavity burst into life filled with everything you were sending his way. Love. Passion. Trust. Protectiveness. He couldn’t but help but smile as he got to say these words again knowing he would be complete, “You’re my mate!”

You let out a laugh of relief at the words, “Mates,” as you kissed him so hard you both fell back into the earth beneath you.

“That’s impossible,” Azriel said in disbelief. Elain’s face was ghost white.

“Well brother, the mother can work in mysterious ways,” Rhysand smiled at you finally getting your happy ending.

Lucien pulled away from you breathless, “I love you.”

You gave him a toothy grin and kissed him once more, “I love you!”

The wind kissed your skin as you both got up off the ground hand in Lucien’s. The presence of the wind almost felt familiar to you. You looked up at your mate and saw he had the same expression. Both of you looked at each other before you both whispered a soft thank you into the wind to let it be carried away to wherever it was headed as your friends began to crowd you both. Feyre ran into Lucien’s outstretched arms as Mor crashed into yours.

“Oh gods I am so happy you’re alive!” Mor cried.

“I think that was enough bonding for a lifetime,” you laughed as you cried with your best friend.

“I am just glad you are okay!” she smiled as she let Feyre hug you next. She looked over to Lucien and gave you a warm smile, “I am so happy for you both, take good care of him.”

Rhysand and Cassian pulled you into a big group hug.

“What even happened? I saw you both die!” Cassian kissed your cheek fondly.

“I don't even know… I wish I could tell you both, but I'm just happy I get to keep my favorite bat boys around,” you laughed as Rhysand kissed your other cheek.

“Like I said to Az, the mother works in wonderous ways.” As they pulled you back into another huge hug.

“Stop you’re going to pop me!” you laughed as a pair of footsteps approached you. You looked up to see Azriel. He looked at you guiltily and you felt nothing towards the male. No hate, no resentment, no longing, no nothing. You took a deep breath as you said, “Bring it in Azriel, it’s alright…”

Azriel carefully joined the group hug, “I am so sorry…” you and the others just hugged each other tighter as a response. You heard a cough from outside the circle as Elain stood before you. Rhysand and Cassian gave you one last hug before they walked over to Lucien and the others. Leaving you with Azriel and Elain.

“Y/n if I had only known…” Elain’s voice trailed off. Their presence was a little much for you after knowing what they both caused, but without them you wouldn’t have your mate.

“Look, everything that happened between us is a lot to digest and it's overwhelming me right now, but I am willing to look forward and have a fresh start, just give me time.” You gave them both an awkward smile as you walked off to the others who were all showering Lucien in hugs like they had done with you earlier. The sight of it made you smile.

“Be careful with him! I just got him back,” you teased as everyone looked towards you.

“We just got you both back,” Feyre said with a soft smile, “Tonight we celebrate you both and your new bond!”

“Just don't feed him anything until we're gone,” Cassian quipped as he clapped Lucien on the shoulder. Lucien rolled his eyes at the comment as Mor whispered into your ear, “and when you do, you still owe us girls a story after all.” She winked as your face grew hot at the talk of the act of completing the bond together.

“Calm yourself darling, we have plenty of time for that later,” Lucien pulled you into his side, “Let’s celebrate with our friends yeah?”

“Fine, I guess we can let loose a little to celebrate beating death and finding our bond.” You smiled.

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go party! I’m ready to let loose after everything that just transpired,” Mor said as everyone left to go back inside. Lucien pulled you aside before you both walked in and pushed you against a wall as he kissed you with fiery passion.

“As soon as that little party is over, I am going to fuck you into the bed, wall, desk,” he began to kiss your neck as the fresh bond between you hummed in your chest, “Any surface that I can take you on till we’re both burning this court into ashes with our love.”

You moaned at his words, “You promise?”

“If that is what my mate wants,” as he stared into your eyes as you traced your fingers down his back.

“Only if mine is willing to live up to his words,” you smirked up at him.

“Oh y/n, you are going to regret doubting me,” he said before he gave you one last kiss on the lips before offering you his hand to lead you into the house where all your friends awaited to celebrate your miracle.

You giggled as you grabbed his hand and said, “I love you so much Lu.”

“I will never get sick of those words. I love you too,” he smiled down as your intertwined hands, “You really should get those tattooed.”

“Give me a few more like them and I will,” you teased pulling Lucien inside as he let out a small groan at the thought. Both of you eager to celebrate with your friends, and to finally be able to love each other fiercely for the rest of your lives.

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emsgwenstan · 9 months ago

Text

Personal or professional?

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Chap 5| chap 6| chap 7

Words: 3k

Warnings: insecurity’s, swearing.

Note: another fill in chapter… this gif☝️is the look she gives Violet about the door lol.

Well it’s official, It’s the 12th of December and my dreaded birthday, another year of being alive, I guess I should be grateful but only 2 hours until I can go home and sleep! Jesus I really am getting old. I do wish I could see Larissa today but I don’t want to disturb her, we have been texting since that day which was three days ago now, I drove her home that night and the next morning she sent me a message saying good morning and I thought that was really sweet, but this morning she hadn’t said anything, I don’t need to read into it though, I just hope I haven’t done anything wrong. My phone started to ring in my pocket and just when I thought it was her I was wrong.

*Louise*

“Happy birthday vi!” She yelled.

“Thanks Lou.” I said chuckling.

“Happy birthday vi.” I heard jades sultry voice say on the other line.

“Oh yeah jays here too.” Louise said.

“Wanna wish auntie vi happy birthday?” She added.

“Happy birthday auntie violet!” Lou’s daughter lily shouted.

“Aww thanks guys, how is everyone?” I asked.

“Yeah we’re all pretty good, how are you though? You’ve been pretty quiet… perhaps finally found someone?” Louise said teasingly.

My face burned, how am I supposed to say yes I’ve met and fallen in love with someone, we’ve had sex and yet we’re still in a what do they call it now? situationship? Friends with benefits? Let alone it being with a woman- not that they’d be very surprised.

“I have been getting out more and no I’m not with anyone.” I said.

“Let’s hope you find someone vi we don’t want you to be alone forever.” Jade said in a sing song voice.

“Shut the fuck up, says you your a hoe, a serial seducer.” I laughed.

“Ok lily go to your room for a minute.” Lou said.

“Oh my god sorry!” I said.

“Aunt of the year award goes to Violet.” Jade said mockingly.

“Agh, anyway guess what?” I asked.

“What?.” “Mhm?” From the both of them.

“I’ll see you guys at dads this year.” I said.

“What! You’re actually gonna show up!?” Louise said.

“Yeah but I’m not gonna be alone, I’m bringing my… friend Larissa.” I said awkwardly.

“Ooooo Larissa.” They said in unison. I could just imagine them looking at each other knowingly.

“Please… anyway I’ll be there for a week then I’m going to see my mum.” I stated.

“We haven’t seen you for ages, oh and by the way dad has been such a dick lately, all he talks about is fucking golf.” Jade said.

“When isn’t he a dick, and that doesn’t surprise me, I’m not going for him though I’m coming to see you guys.” I spoke.

“Yeah well we will be there for like 9 days I think, we really need to go out all together again, I know I need to get hammered.” Louise said laughing.

“Agreed I know just the place.” I said.

“We know.” They both said giggling.

“Ok well I’m at work so I need to go but I’ll see you guys then ok?” I said.

“Alright we love you sis.” Lou said.

“Love you guys, tell lily and Lottie i love them to.” I said.

“Will do, bye.” She said.

“Bye.”

I went back to stacking lengths of timber in their designated racks and began to wrap up the rest of my stuff getting ready to come home.

Finally in the threshold of my house, I kicked off my boots and tore off my work clothes, it was so fucking hot I felt like I was suffocating. The heat was up so high last night because it was freezing and I forgot to turn it off this morning as well as having the fire going. Turning it off and keeping the fire going I went and jumped in the shower quickly to rinse off the sawdust and settle in for the night.

Hopping into bed I let my hair out of the tight ponytail it’s been in all day letting it fall over my pillow and just like that I passed out. It was only 6pm but I didn’t care it was much needed, although it wasn’t until a while later when I could feel my body slightly shaking that I awoke again. “Wake up darling.” A hushed voice spoke, I know that accent anywhere, why is she here? how is she here? I rolled over slightly with my eyes cracked open, Larissa was standing beside me with a hand delicately wrapped around my bicep.

“Good morning.” She teased. “What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” I asked sleepily. Larissa brought her hand to my face stroking my cheek lightly. “I did knock, but no answer. The door was unlocked, I should have rung you I’m sorry.” She said in haste. “No, no it’s fine you’re welcome you don’t even need to knock.” I said rubbing my eyes. Larissa smiled warmly. “Sit up for a moment I’ll be right back.” She said leaving the room. I’m still a little bit delirious wondering if this is even real or not, but the fact that I could feel her gave me every indication that it was. Slowly I sat up and realised I’m only wearing underwear, I clutched my duvet to my chest and sat cross legged against my head board.

Larissa waltzed back in with a large box in her hands, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor boards getting closer gave me more anticipation wondering what was going on. She perched herself on the edge of my bed and placed the huge box in my lap, it was a deep red with a crimson, satin bow on top. I looked at her with curiosity and a small smile. “Open it.” She said gesturing me to do so. Slowly I undid the ribbon and opened the box, I could smell it first, the large bouquet of red and dark red- almost black roses that lay on top. “Oh Larissa, these are beautiful.” I said plucking them out and smelling how heavenly they are. “How did you know these were my favourite… not just the flowers but the colours.” I asked jokingly. “I have my ways.” She said. I giggled at her and lay the roses next to me and continued to open the layers of tissue paper.

The next thing was clothing of some sort, pulling it up I gasped. “It’s beautiful.” I said astonished, the black dress was gorgeous, intricate black beads lined the off the shoulder cut out and strapped top, the thigh slit down the side and the cuffs of the sleeves. “Why did you get me this?” I asked incredulously. “Because you deserve it.” She said blatantly. “I’m afraid I don’t think it will fit.” I said solemnly. “It will, I promise.” She ensured moving the tissue further out of the way to indicate there’s more. Carefully I laid aside the dress as well and took out the next thing. A large black coat with fur around the hood, sleeves and bottom. My eyes lit up and I became speechless. Trying to catch a sneaky look at the tag, I didn’t find a price or size instead the words ‘Vivienne Westwood’ in scribed on it. “What the fuck.” I breathed, I looked at the dresses tag and the same thing was embedded.

“There’s more.” She said suggestively. I looked at her with wide eyes and put aside the coat. Underneath was a shoe box and another thing wrapped with tissue paper, I opened that first unraveling the fragile paper. My cheeks burned, when I came to relise it was lingerie, a set of scarlet red lace, a bra with matching panties. I admired them, running my fingertips along the intricacies of the material, I gave a shy and quiet thank you to Larissa and set them aside too. The last thing was the shoe box that made my breathing stop. ‘Cristian louboutin’ no fucking way.

Larissa could see my face at the sight of it, how much I was in shock and awe even without seeing what’s in it. I took off the lid and just about had a heart attack, slick black heels lay next to another adorning the familiar red bottoms. I turned to Larissa with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How- why…I. Larissa I’ve wanted these shoes since I was 17!” I screeched. She grinned and put her hand on my wrist. “Happy birthday darling.” She whispered sweetly. Again I melted. “Oh rissa, I don’t know if I can accept these.” I said softly. “Yes you can, I wanted to give you something to make you feel beautiful, and I know that black makes people feel slimmer- not that you need to of course! I just…-god, I thought I could help you feel better about yourself and show you how beautiful you are my sweet.” She said feeling horrible at how that sounded. “No I understand, it’s very thoughtful of you. Most of my clothes are black.” I said smiling.

“And I think red looks gorgeous on you too.” She said. I immediately remembered that I wore a red bra that day and that’s what she was pertaining to. Larissa was very close it was harder to not be under her piercing gaze, I put the box next to me and wrapped my arms around her neck, slowly I leaned in and hoped she wouldn’t pull away, I placed a chaste kiss to her lips grinning into it. “Thank you lovely.” I said into her ear still hugging her. “You’re very welcome.” She said pulling back. “Now I hope it’s ok with you but I made reservations for 8:00, so go get changed into these and we can go get dinner?” She said questionably. “You didn’t!” I said. She stood from the bed and reached for my hands to help me up, I stood and covered my stomach feeling a little self conscious again.

Larissa grasped my wrists, moved them away and looked in my eyes. “Don’t hide from me darling.” She said placing another kiss on my forehead. She turned on the spot and left me to get changed. In the bathroom I painted on some make up opting for dark eyeshadow and lipstick a few shades darker than Larissa’s, I curled my collarbone length blonde hair and put on my gold necklace with a ‘v’ initial and a few rings from the dish on the sink. I slipped on the red lingerie with a smirk and then the dress, for a moment my heart sank when the sip at the back wouldn’t go up, but turns out it was just caught on the material, it slid up my back with ease. I slipped on the shoes and couldn’t stop the excitement that spread through my body as I did so.

Looking in the mirror, I stared at myself, I hadn’t even realised I had a waist, the shoes are what I kept looking at and my calf muscles that sculpted due to the height. Larissa carefully opened my bedroom door and walked up behind me, I looked at her in the reflection giving a timid glance, she pressed herself to my back and gently put her head on my shoulder and moved her hands to meet around my front, her palms smoothed out the fabric and stopped at the swell of my stomach. “You look stunning.” She said kissing my temple. “Thank you.” I said. “Shall we go?” She asked. “Yeah.” I grabbed the coat and put it on.

Going past the kitchen and hallway I grab my keys from the dish. “What are you doing?” She asked. I dangled the keys giving her the hint I’m driving. “No, I’m driving.” She said plucking them out of my hand and putting them back down. Larissa walked out the door and I followed behind her, she stepped to the passenger side and opened the door for me, I giggled at her chivalry. She walked to the other side and sat in the drivers seat. “Ooo the woman knows how to drive stick.” I said as a joke. “Yes I do, something else we have in common.” She said turning on the car and reversing out of the drive way.

Once she went thought the gears, Larissa placed her hand on top of mine and curled her fingers into my palm, the butterflies in my stomach were alive and well at this point, not that they ever go away when I’m with her. When she down geard and sadly removed her hand from mine it must have meant we’re close, but when I saw the place my eyes just about bulged out of my head. Larissa killed the engine and stepped out, just as I open the door she glared at me through the windscreen, I laughed throwing my head back and closed the door again. She made it to the other side and reopened the door extending a hand to me.

I stepped out onto a gravel driveway and kept a hold of her hand. She closed the door and started to lead me in the direction of the restaurant. “Wait.” I said stopping. Holding her hand I took off my shoes and started walking again until we made it to cement and put them back on. I looked at her confused face. “I want to savour and look after these shoes.” I said. “Oh.” She chuckled, we made our way up the grand steps to the front door. This place was about ten minutes out of town and secluded by trees, the building was a tan colour and had pillars surrounding it, pot plans and ivy covered the exterior, a red carpet rolled down the stairs and the large double doors open wide with a ‘please wait to be seated’ sign on the wall outside of them.

Larissa glanced at me as a young woman greeted us. “Hello ladies, booking name?” She asked. “Weems.” Larissa said. “Yes, right this way.” She lead us into a massive dining hall, intimate tables with candles and silver alike, chandeliers vaulted from the ceiling, paintings, even live music with people playing violins and other sweet sounding instruments, a dance floor- for those who actually dance, it was beautiful and it felt right to be here experiencing this with Larissa, if I came here without her, she would be the one I’d tell this place about. “Here you go.” She sat us in a green velvet booth and placed two menus on the table then left.

“I didn’t even know this place existed.” I said. “Do you like it?” She asked shrugging off her cream coat, Larissa was wearing a plum coloured silk blouse and a matching cream pencil skirt, my breath hitched at the sight of her, somehow she seemed nervous, the woman who exudes power, authority and confidence is nervous, but then again I know its not the first time around me, but as if I do that to her, its probably just because she wants me to have a good night. “Absolutely, I really don’t deserve this-.” “Yes you do.” She said cutting me off. I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Any idea what you feel like?” I asked. We both went through the menu together, decided on our choices and ordered.

Larissa and I were having a conversation about what we both did today when we were interrupted by a man who seemed to know her. “Larissa, I thought that was you.” He said. She looked up and let out a sharp exhale through her nose forcing a tight lipped smile. “Mr jones, lovely to see you.” She said speaking though here teeth. “Likewise, I don’t see you out of that school often.” He said. Larissa bit the insides of her cheeks quite literally refraining herself from spitting a very unkind insult his way. “Yes well Marcus, I do have a life.” She said bitterly, if looks could kill. His line of sight went to me. “And who is this?” He asked. If it were anyone else, She would have felt compelled to say ‘oh forgive me how rude I didn’t introduce you sooner’ instead she kept her back handed behaviour. “This is violet Hastings, my very good friend… now if you don’t mind we would like to enjoy our dinner.” Her voice sounding like venom. “Nice to meet you, I suppose I should get back to my wife.” He said awkwardly leaving.

The silence was killing me. “Ok what was that?” I asked chucking. Larissa let out a huff and turned to face me. “That was Marcus jones, a sleazy twit… also a board member.” She explained whilst simultaneously taking a sip of the wine the waitress brought over. “He did seem a bit smug.” I said sidding with her. “He’s an imbecile, all he does is make my job harder and tries to deny my advances for the schools funding and changes.” She said twisting the stem of the glass on the table. “Not to mention, every Thursday night he goes and screws his assistant, how cliche.” She rasped, throwing back the remaining wine in her glass. I raise my eyebrows in response. “I was a bit harsh wasn’t I?” She asked grasping my thigh under the table. “No, because if it were me id have been worse, you did a great job.” I said. Larissa laughed. A real laugh. It was loud and turned a few heads, but I didn’t care id love to hear it again and again and again. She covered her mouth with her fingers trying not to do it again. She never fails to make me weak.

The dim lighting made her look even more delectable then she already is and I found myself staring at her. “What?” She asked noticing. “Your just…ethereal? I don’t even know how you real.” I said lowly. “Stop it.” She giggled looking down. “I don’t think you know how pretty you are Larissa.” I spoke. “I could say the same about you vi.” She said tightening her grip on my thigh. The waitress brought over our food and left us to eat alone again. Once we were finished a flurry of people went to the dance floor with each of their partners. “Would you like to dance violet?” She leaned in to whisper. “Oh I don’t dance.” I said. “Please?” She pushed. Looking in her eyes I tilted my head, I can’t say no to her. “Sure.” I said reluctantly. Larissa took my hand and guided me to the floor.

On perfect queue the music started, the tune was familiar, experience I think it was. Everyone began to slowly sway to the music as if their bodies were one, Larissa held onto my waist and brought my hand to her shoulder, I placed my free hand in hers and began to dance. She was wonderful, so free and loose, Larissa let herself succumb to the music and I did the same, the stronger the tune the more contrived the movements, Larissa spun me about like they do in those ridiculous romcoms but Christ it felt like I was in one, her gaze never faulted, eyes piercing into my own as if the whole world disappeared. When the music went softer Larissa braced her arms around my torso and I joined my other hand to her vacant shoulder and let my head rest in the crook of her neck.

"May I cut in?" A voice said behind my shoulder, as I turned there standing was that same halfwit Marcus, asking me to dance. I looked to Larissa for help, she said nothing only looking down at her feet. "Um...I-." I began about to reject his offer. "Great!" He took my hand and I was dragged of with him, as a new song started I couldn't stop staring at Larissa, she stepped away sitting back at the table hardly watching what was going on, like the big ball of anger I am sometimes, I felt obliged to peruse my next move, as he was twisting me around like a monkey on steroids, I leaned back and stopped on his foot with my heel and elbowed him in the face. "Oh! my apologies I'm a horrible dancer.” I said with faux forgiveness. Immediately I ran back to Larissa.

"Why didn't you save me." I said sternly and out of breath. "You looked happy with him." She said fiddling with her fingers. "I beg your pardon? I’m sorry but if that's what I look like when I'm happy with someone then I must look insane when I'm with you." I expressed sitting down again. "Did you not just see what happened." I asked. "Yes, I must say it was a little entertaining." She said giving me a meek smile. "good. But why didn’t you do anything?” I asked. “I don’t know… I’m sorry I just thought-.” “It’s fine, I mean he had that coming.” I said. We sat together for a while and before I excused myself and went off to find the lavatory leaving Larissa at the table alone again.

*Larissa’s pov*

I’m so glad violet likes the gifts I gave her, she looks breathtaking, I feel deeply saddened that she doesn’t see herself through my eyes, but I do suppose no one sees their own beauty like others. I hope I didn’t take it to far when i gave her the lingerie, i just couldn’t help myself. Violet is an incredible woman, shes smart and witty, she’s kind and full of skills i could only dream to obtain, she makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room as if i were so interesting, a 48 year old who lives and breathes to work and is unbelievably stubborn, something else we have in common i think. I adore all the things about her she views as flaws but somethings telling me that there’s still more to her, but in time i hope to learn them all.

I feel so guilty I did nothing to stop that asshole from taking Violet away from me, I thought we had a special moment, I guess my own insecurities came to play, the last time I danced with somebody I was with mortica and that didn’t end well, why would it with her?

I observed her as she came back to the table, her legs are stunning and she can definitely walk in heels, i do find that people our height can do a good job in them if i do say so myself, I’m pleased that she insists on taking care of them, even if she didn’t id just buy her a new pair. Before she sat i offered to take her home, we had been here well over two hours and thought she would appreciate actually going home. “Sure.” She said. I stood and draped my own coat over my shoulders and placed my hand in the small of violets back to go and pay. As already anticipated she tried to debate on who was paying but in the midst of it i handed the poor waitress my card, the glare i received when violet heard the beep on the machine was endearing, she did look as though she could physically hurt me but i kept my laughter at bay.

Exiting the restaurant, violet stopped and moved her head to gaze at the stars above, it was very beautiful, no light pollution, no noise, just the stars, moon, violet and I, although i found my view much better than hers. The reflection in her eyes and the soft glow of the out side lights from the restaurant made her impossibly more beautiful, that doesn’t even sound like the right word, but it will do.

*violets pov*

The sky was extraordinary I haven’t seen it like this for a while, but my gaze was cut short when Larissa ushered me to the car and opened my door again. On the ride home I placed my hand in her lap playing with the material of her skirt, I was so relaxed that I eventually fell asleep, the soft hum of the radio and the smell of her perfume lulled me to dose off. Larissa opened my door and gently coaxed me awake and let me rest against her side as she walked us inside.

By the time we made it to my room I had woken up a bit more and turned to Larissa. “Are you ok?” I asked. “I’m fine.” She said. I took off my heels and placed them inside my robe out of the way, I saw her looking down at the floor as she sat on the edge of my bed. Trying to find a way to lighten the mood I reached for my small speaker and turned it on, flicking through my phone I found a song to play, set down my phone and pulled her to stand. Larissa looked at me confused wondering what’s going on, I placed her hands around my neck and I locked mine around her waist and pressed my body to hers.

I hummed along to the tune and swayed to the slow rhythm, Larissa rested her temple on my forehead and sighed. “I don’t dance for just anyone you know.” I whispered in her ear, I could see the small smile across her face. “Violet?… why are you doing this?” She asked still wrapped around me. “Because you deserve to know that you’re cared for to, because you’re special and you would do the same for me.” I said. Larissa was quiet after that, but she did grip me a little tighter and breathe a little deeper.

After the song stopped I paused it and started to get changed. Larissa offered to drag down my zip, I stepped out of my dress and picked it up hanging it neatly inside the wardrobe. Just as I was about to enter the ensuite to change Larissa’s voice rang through the air. “Wait!” She said. I turned on the spot and looked at her flickering eyes and ridged stance, I was silent waiting for her to continue. “I-I… was wondering if you could just… stay- in what you have on.” She mumbled. My eyes widened at her ask, my stomach riddled with butterflies.

Larissa’s gaze met mine and slowly she stepped out of her heels, removed her coat and pulled off her blouse and skirt, only left standing in her underwear. My gaze never left her, not once, I don’t recall I actually blinked to be frank. “Is it ok if I stay?” She asked. I paced back towards her and discarded the clothes I’m not going to be changing into on the floor, I took ahold of Larissa’s hand and threw back the covers of my bed and crawled in before her. I found a comfortable position on my side and laid out my right arm for her to rest her head on, to which she did.

There were no sounds, no interruptions, no one else but us- half naked and left in only undergarments, Larissa’s long limbs were intertwined with my own and the way she studied my face made blood rush to my cheeks, I did the same though- studied her that is, stroking her hair and tracing unknown shapes along her jaw and lips, especially over her scar. “What are you thinking?” I whispered, Larissa’s eyes fluttered to mine. “It’s silly.” She hummed softly. “Tell me? I’m sure it’s not.” I said back. “I’ve not been this… close to a normie before.” She expressed. I adjusted my head a little. “And what does that mean to you, is that a good thing or a bad thing?… are you saying that your view on me would change if I were?” I said sitting up a little. “No of course not i just mean, I haven’t been exposed to any normie that has been… well, like you.” She said sheepishly.

I sat mulling over the conversation, on one hand it’s disheartening to hear that she hasn’t been accepted due to the fact of being an outcast, and on the other I suppose she still hasn’t… “I know that was rather odd of me to bring up but it was just something that I had been thinking about, it’s nice to see that normies and outcasts can be civil.” She murmured. I felt a tinge of guilt gnaw in my stomach, just wait for the right time Violet. “No I get it, really, especially since you dedicate your life to ensuring your students feel accepted for who they are.” I said laying back down.

For a while it was quiet and peaceful, Larissa was the one who fell asleep first, but as I rolled over she slightly roused earning an almost incomprehensible statement. “Happy birthday Violet, my sweet sweet girl.” She left her head against the back of my shoulder and pulled me by the waist to rest against her front. “I love you Larissa.” I breathed but with no response I knew she had fallen asleep.

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#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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