#hit me in the feels and I’ll come back for more

[sugrclip]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍: you find yourself crying during sex as jaehyun pounds ( makes love to you ) before he leaves for the military. you just want him to come back already— even as he’s inside of you.

content ── wc、1.2k. pwp. fem! reader. lowercased. boyfriend!jaehyun. establish relationship. black intended. sweet, emotional sex. unprotected sex. daddy kink ( reader calls jae dada ). pet names.

kiana’s notez . . . ☘︎ ݁˖ in honory of jaehyun’s enlistment.. this was meant to be brainrot oh my godddd! i did a lil too much, i might make a rougher version in brainrot form. we miss you jae, come back home daddy :(

you were in your apartment in la, and your boyfriend jaehyun had been visiting back and forth for the last few days, making the most of his time in the states for his video shoot. long distance was never an issue for you two— jaehyun's busy schedule kept him occupied. always making time to text or call you every day, while you were a homebody who owned a boutique for a living. with the freedom to fly out at almost any time to see him whenever he had the time to make the most of yours.

right now you were in your feelings, laying under him completely naked. although he was here now, you already craved him so much knowing that he would be gone doing his military service. somehow it felt farther in distance than when he was performing on stage across the globe. plus you haven’t been fucked in a while, and he was finna double it once he flew back to korea. that shit was lowkey cruel now that you thought about it. they really about to take your man.

“you really finna leave me like this dada?” you asked jaehyun with a pout, your voice laced with desperation, need, and disappointment. your stomach fluttered as he rubbed his soft pink tip against your tiny, hooded clit. the base of his shaft between your wet, puffy folds. it made you upset cause you craved more, he was taking his time, and he was leaving.

“i know baby, i know,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. those soft eyes he gave you when he fucked you or was about to fuck you were all so familiar, now holding a hint of regret in them. he didn’t want to leave you either but he knew that the quicker he enlisted, the quicker he’ll be back to you. getting the obstacles out of the way so that he could spend as much time as the world gave him when he came back.

“the sooner i go, the sooner i’ll be out,” he leaned in closer burying his face in your neck, laying hot kisses against your skin. his hand rubbed up and down your thigh, which was spread wide open for him. “and when i return, i promise to make up every moment we missed.”

as you were lost in thought, savoring the way his kisses felt on your neck, he entered you slowly. causing you to instinctively grip his bicep and look between your bodies where you were joined, feeling your breath get caught in your throat.

your perfectly manicured acrylic french tips wrapped around the firm muscle trying to ground yourself. “mmh fuck wait,” you moaned out softly, your voice mixed with pleasure and surprise. as you scooted yourself up the mattress just an inch.

but damn, it hit you hard that it had been so long since the last time you were fucked just by how you barely managed to take a few inches. you almost swore you were a virgin again just now.

you could practically see the way his thick dick forced its way past your entrance as if your pussy was trying to resist him— his tip popping its way in. the sight instantly turned you on, him too, hearing the way he groaned at the site. his hand going down to rest on top of your pelvis, his thumb going to part one side of your folds as he inched his way inside.

“you good mama?” jaehyun asked softly looking up at you, his voice written in split worry but it was clear he was restraining himself. his gaze followed yours again, watching intently as he slowly eased himself out a few inches, the both of you holding a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

the brief spare you thought he had given you to catch your breath was short-lived when just as you were about to reply he fully thrusted back in filling you completely, forcing a moan from your chest.

"fuckkk," you cried out. "jae, you're too big." the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. you could feel the intense pressure building in your lower belly, a delicious ache that spread through your core.

clearly, it wasn’t a question but a gentle warning for preparation for what was about to come. “i’ve missed you so much, baby. let me show you just how much.” he mumbled with a shaky breath, dripping with arousal. his words sent shivers down your spine, you really did miss him— just as much if not more.

every movement of his thick shaft dragged across your sensitive, velvey walls, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

desperate for something to anchor you, your other hand shot out to grab the sheet beneath you. your fingers curled tightly into the fabric, knuckles turning white as you held on, bracing yourself as he sped up his sharp thrusts.

“you missed me too hm? missed the way i make love to you?” he asked, his voice husky with pure desire. the rhythmic sound of skin on skin filling its way into your bedroom. the soft, wet plapping noises of his thick balls slapping against your pussy made it oh so erotic, fucking waves of arousal out of you.

“such a good girl for not giving my pussy up, can feel how tight you are,” he let out throaty groans driving his hips into yours. wrapping his hand behind your neck as he rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to keep eye contact. he fucking loved you.

the way your breasts bounced rhythmically with each powerful thrust, his unoccupied, large hand going down to hold your waist. the steady, consistent sound of the bed frame colliding with the wall echoed throughout the dim lit room. the candle that you had lit, the way his dick touched your soul, and the way your breath mixed with his throughout pants and moans were too much for you.

as the sensations overwhelmed you a wave of emotion in its purest form slipped over you, cause you to sniffle softly. a single tear trailed its way down your cheek, it was almost bittersweet in a way. “what’s wrong baby?”

your voice thick with emotion, barely above a whisper, almost pleading, “don’t leave me dada, ‘m gon miss you.”

his hand slid up your body, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek, gently wiping the tear away. his eyes filled with love and compassion, as he murmured reassuringly, “you don’t gotta cry baby, i gotchu,” he kissed your cheek, trailing pecks across your face until he reached your lips. kissing you lovingly deep, his lips moving in slow harmony against yours. “when i come home it’s all on me baby, whatever you wanna do, whatever you want, i promise.”

he never ever broke his promises.

you could feel the way his thrusts slowed once he found that squishy cave in your pussy, focusing on it with deliberate precision. rolling his hips with intention, making sure the head of his dick caressed that sensitive spot within each movement. making your thighs shake and tremble with uncontrollable pleasure.

forcing you. . . pushing you to moan so sweetly for him as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. shamelessly babbling out “i love you’s” and “i miss you’s”.

“i love you jae,” you said at that same exact moment you felt yourself coming, creaming around his dick. your voice all shaky, filled with love, staring into his eyes.

leaving wet, audible pecks against your glossy lips before his response came without hesitation. voice low and tender, filled with an equal measure of love.

"i love you too, baby, so much. more than you could ever know.”

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. © sugrclip 、all rights reserved . . . do not modify, copy, or plagiarize my posts on any platform. you do not have permission. tumblr is the only platform that i have.

[httpsdrewstarkey]

birthday boy

authors note: tumblr, pls for the love of god don’t delete this and make it show up in the tags 🤚🏼

warnings: birthday sex 18+!!!

Y/N stood in the bathroom, looking at her reflection as she took in the black lace lingerie hugging her body, the intricate patterns tracing over her skin, the soft robe slipping just past her shoulder. She had a small smile on her face—the nerves and excitement fluttering in her stomach.

Tonight was his birthday, and the evening had been full of laughter and celebration as close family and friends gathered to celebrate him. But now, with the house quiet, their house dimly lit as she walked through it. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe overlooking the living room, one leg crossing the other, her hand grazing the side of her thigh as she watched him. He was relaxed on the couch, his long legs sprawled out, almost taking up the entire couch as his fingers grazed and tugged at his lips, eyes slowly making their way down her body, his smile growing wider.

“Happy birthday to you…” she sang softly, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to hold back a playful grin as she moved towards him, trying not to laugh.

His eyes followed her, as she took her time making her way over to him. She wanted to appreciate the way his eyes never left sight of her, making him look like a starved man, as she came to a stop in between his legs. He straightened up slightly, his hands reaching out to her, fingertips tracing gentle circles along the lace at her hips, and up and down her thighs. She made herself comfortable in his lap, her knees sinking slightly into the couch, as she grabbed the base of his neck. They made eye contact as he gripped her waist to pull her closer, leaning forward slightly, their lips barely touching.

“You know, I’ve got a few birthday wishes of my own that haven’t come true yet,” he said his voice low, as his hand came up to pull the strap of her outfit down, giving her a small kiss. She looked at him, smiling, as she leaned in to kiss him.

“Ah, ah, patience,” He said, a smirk falling on his face, “Think I’ll take my time unwrapping my gift tonight.”

She knew he wanted to take charge like he always did, but tonight, she wanted to praise and celebrate him in her own way. Summoning her courage, she stood up from his lap and tossed the robe aside, letting it fall to the floor.

She leaned down to him, tracing her finger along his jawline. “I think I’ll take my time tonight, birthday boy,” she said, her voice trashing him as she watched his reaction, fully aware of the effect her boldness had on him.

“Let’s see how patient you can be.” She dropped to her knees, keeping her eyes on him, her hands palming him through his sweatpants, she eagerly tugged at his pants signaling to him what to do. He lifted his hips as she pulled them down, his cock springing free. She immediately wrapped her lips around the tip, moaning as she tasted the pre-cum leaking out, her eyes rolling back.

“God, yes,” He moaned out, grabbing her hair, and pushing her mouth further down to take more of him. “C’mon, baby, need to fuck this greedy mouth” Her hand began to move up and down his cock, twirling her tongue around the tip, watching his face scrunch up with pleasure as she spit on his cock. Her hand began to move faster, cupping his balls in her other hand, as the tip repeatedly hit the back of her throat. His hips jolted, forcing her to take him again as he tightened the grip on her hair looking down at her.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum. Such a good girl,” She was a mess, her hair was starting to become messy, her spit all down his cock, as her eyes began to tear up. He moaned loudly as she continued to take him like a champ, determined to make him finish in her mouth. His hips jolted again, he could feel himself getting close, both of his hands grabbed the sides of her head, forcing her to keep him in her mouth as his cum made its way down her throat. She looked up at him, wanting to watch him fall apart for her as he threw his head back on the couch, the warm liquid starting to spill from her lips. She pulled back a little bit, swallowing the rest of it, and wiping the sides of her mouth.

She stood up quickly, the hardwood floor making her knees hurt, itching to get out of her outfit, wanting to feel him stretch her out. She threw the outfit down, crawling back onto his lap reaching to take his shirt off. His hands found their way back to her waist pulling her into a kiss as he lined himself up to her entrance, breaking the kiss.

“Think I deserve to fuck you however I want tonight.” He said pushing his cock into her, not giving her enough to adjust. She moaned out, her head falling back as she put her hands on his shoulders to balance herself. His hips were moving at a brutal pace as he nipped at her neck, his hand finding her clit.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned into his neck, “Need to come, please”

“You will,” he said, toying with her clit, speeding up faster so he could feel her come undone around him. She could feel it inching closer, her stomach starting to cramp as he continued to fuck her through it. She squeezed the base of his neck, feeling the orgasm wash over her, as she began to match his pace for more friction, moaning loudly.

“That’s it, so needy to get off on daddy’s cock,“ he could feel her orgasm clench around him as he gave her ass a small slap feeling his own orgasm approaching. He shoved her hips down, coming undone inside of her, moaning her name loudly.

“Fuck, you’re a dream, baby,” he said pulling her into a kiss, neither of them wanting to move.

“Another round birthday boy?”

“Yeah, think I need some dessert.”

tagging some of my favorite girls: @nemesyaaa @starkeyslove @novagreen04 @archiveofvirtue

[schlattslambo]

schlatt with a reader who is cocky as fuck about the fact he chose them

(getting a lil meta🤓)

he chose me, he don’t want you | schlatt 18+

a/n: thank you for sending this request in! i’ll try and keep this as gender neutral as possible just in case!

c/w: face fucking, the use of daddy, hickeys, the derogatory use of whore (once)

———————-

you’ve known schlatt for a while now. it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. you both met through mutual friends on a stream, and when you cracked jokes back at schlatt, he couldn’t help but fall in love with you. the two of you have been dating for about a year, and he’s ready to finally go public.

his nervous fidgeting catches your eye as you peek into his office. his leg is bouncing a mile a minute and his hair is slightly greasy from how much he’s been running his hands through it.

“jay,” you say from the door. “you alright?”

his worried eyes meet yours and you can tell that no matter how much he tells you how fine he is, he’s not. you know this by now. he’ll hide those feelings because he wants to be strong for you. but knowing him, he can’t be strong for long.

you walk into his office and squeeze your way onto his lap. as your arms wrap around his neck, he physically slumps against you. his face is pressed against your neck as he hugs you tight.

“i’m sorry, honey,” he breathes against your skin. “i’m just so nervous. i want them to like you and not be mad that we’re dating.”

you smile. “babe, i don’t care what people think of me.” you explain. “they can talk bad about me all they want. you’re the one coming home to me at the end of every day. not them.”

schlatt looks up at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his. he’s never looked this vulnerable before. your big, strong guy is terrified. it breaks your heart to see him like that, and you would do anything to fix it.

“how can i make it better?” your hands run through his hair again.

your arm moves as schlatt shrugs a shoulder. “i dunno.” he mumbles.

you just smile and lean down, pressing your lips to the side of schlatt’s neck. he tenses up slightly but you continue to pepper soft kisses along his pulse point. his heart is racing.

you lick his warm skin and gently nip. schlatt’s breath catches in his throat and you feel him harden underneath you.

“baby,” he chokes out as you suck harshly on his skin. “i gotta stream in 15 minutes.”

“that’s more than enough time.” you whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth.

schlatt shivers underneath you. he knows that this will help, but god, 15 minutes isn’t long enough. his racing thoughts stop as you grind your hips down with a smile. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you look down at schlatt seductively.

“let me make you feel good, daddy.” you whisper.

schlatt’s cock twitches against your ass and he makes a low noise in his throat. your hips move more and you litter schlatt’s neck with tiny kisses and suck on his skin harshly ever so often.

after leaving a harsh hickey on his collarbone, your ass is suddenly cupped and you’re lifted off of schlatt’s lap. you look at him confused, but the question thats on your lips is answered as you’re roughly shoved to your knees.

“you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you don’t knock it off.” schlatt growls as he undoes his belt.

you hungrily help tug his khaki pants down, smiling as you see the outline of his hard cock pressing against his gray boxers. there’s a small wet dot at the tip. schlatt grips your jaw forcefully, leaning down.

“take my cock out and fucking suck it, am i understood?” he asks.

“yes,” you whine.

schlatt’s grip moves to your throat as he lifts a brow. your vision begins to grow hazy but he doesn’t really give a fuck. you are to address him properly when you speak to him.

“try that again.”

“yes daddy.”

“good. now get to work, and make it quick. we have 7 minutes.”

you take schlatt’s boxers down and watch as his cock springs out, hitting his stomach. his cock looks like its painfully hard and the tip is nearly red, a bead of precum already starting to form on the slit. you take schlatt’s cock and lick at his tip while keeping eye contact.

a low groan escapes schlatt’s mouth as his head falls back. you smile and do it again, watching as his cock throbs in your hand.

“mmm,” you hum. “you taste so good daddy.”

without a word, schlatt smacks your hand away. you can barely whine at him before he jams his cock down your throat.

“take daddy’s cock like a good slut.” he grits. “since you wanna be a fuckin’ tease.”

you gag a bit before relaxing your throat. he grips your hair for leverage and thrusts, groaning at the sensation. your hand snakes between your legs, touching yourself ever so slightly. you moan on schlatt’s cock and his hips stutter a bit as his thrusts get sloppier.

“g’na cum down your throat.” schlatt mumbles. “you better not waste a fucking drop and swallow it all.”

then, you feel the hot liquid shoot down your throat and you swallow. your throat milking everything from his cock. you gasp for breath as he removes his cock from your throat, a string of saliva and cum connecting the two of you.

“feel better?” you ask with a smile.

schlatt nods as he catches his breath. “so much better, thank you honey. go clean up and i’ll start the stream.”

you nod with a smile and dash off to the bathroom. you hear schlatt start the stream and get the notification on your phone. you laugh to yourself, wondering what everyone’s going to say about the mess you left on schlatt’s lap. you make your way back to his office and smile.

“fellas, fellas,” schlatt says with a laugh. “you’ll see them soon, don’t worry. oh! there they are. c’mere baby.”

you nearly skip over to the desk and situate yourself on schlatt’s lap again. the chat immediately goes crazy.

THEY’RE SO CUTE????

dad wtf

why did you hide them from us?

GUYS LOOK AT SCHLATT’S NECK

holy crap hes dating a vampire

you laugh at the responses. schlatt reads them and immediately goes to cover his neck with his hoodie as his face reddens.

“y/n,” he grumbles in your ear. “i swear to god, once this stream is over, you’re getting punished for this.”

you smile innocently. “oopsie.”

“anyway, this is my person.” schlatt says, turning back to the camera. “yes, i know they’re adorable, and no they’re not a fucking vampire.”

you throw an arm around schlatt and smile at the comments that are jealous. in all honesty, you absolutely love the fact that schlatt picked you. some of the comments coming through are a bit hateful, so you cater to them.

“aww,” you coo, jutting out your bottom lip mockingly. “you’re jealous, aren’t you (username)?”

to really drive home the point that you don’t care. you plant a kiss on schlatt’s cheek, just above his mutton chops. his face flushes and you smile.

the comments go crazy again, and someone calls you a whore.

“talking like that is exactly why he didn’t pick you, babe.” you say. “this guy’s all mine.”

you hug schlatt and place your head on his shoulder as he boots up a game of truck sim. he’s ignoring the mean comments until someone goes too far.

“hey, mods, can we fucking ban that guy please?” he asks. “nobody talks to (y/n) like that. they’re mine and talking bad about her in my chat won’t make me leave them or want to date you. so knock it the fuck off. anyone else who says anything bad is getting banned.”

you kiss schlatt’s cheek again and give the camera a smug smile. you know that most fans wouldn’t actually hate you (since you’d already planned on taking candid pictures of him for twitter later that day), and if they did, it didn’t matter.

because he chose you, and nobody else in that chat would ever know what it was like to feel his cock in their throat.

[blackknight-kai]

Just to make a small update:

Yes I’m working on asks 🫶 sorry it’s delayed work kinda…..hit hard. I don’t even get more than a minute to get up 1 time a day hardly anymore because it’s so much chaos and yada yada yada.

Asks are gonna be a bit slow (I’ll sprinkle through them here and there) but come January when things slow a bit for me I’ll be back to regular programming.

Thank you for being patient with me! You guys have given me so much inspiration and I wanna get it out but I’m so brain dead 😭💀

That said, have a small not fleshed out head canon about Pranks!

Wukong and DO are the kind of guy that gets TOO competitive and too into pranks and shit.

You towel whip him? You better HOPE he doesn’t catch you. Your ass is gonna HURT when he gets you back with it or something else.

I advise you not to get into a pranking war with him. No. Just…for your sanity and safety do NOT. Because you challenge him? He’s going to make it so so much worse for you.

In my house, whatever is done receives 10x the payback. That’s how I grew up and I can imagine Wukong/DO being WORSE.

While Wukong is obvious, DO you’d think “Nah he would be light on the pranks he’s reserved” and that’s where you go wrong. See, I feel like DO being quiet means he’s a thinker. And thinking people(monkeys) are dangerous. He has PLANS.

Him being in love with you won’t save you. It might buy you time or a smaller prank…but in the end he’s going to win the prank war.

While Wukong/DO won’t HURT you….will he put you in danger just for a bit/to watch you squirm? Yes. Sure he has the situation under control and you won’t get hurt in the end but…he’s committed to assert his dominance as a master trickster.

He LOVES the games and challenge.

But don’t get it twisted, he’s all for good fun not genuinely fucking you up mentally or hurting you. If you tell him he’s gone too far or tell him to keep it at a certain level - he would, just for you because he cares about YOU. Hes gonna annoy the hell out of you though because he always seems to have SOMETHING up his sleeve. You can get him good, surprise him, or one up him. But be ready for the consequences of that. He may be proud but he’s going to show you who is better. He’s like a predator playing with his prey when it comes to tricks and pranks.

If you don’t think you can handle his full prankster attention try team work with him instead. He will be the most amazing partner in crime.

Slight nsfw thought:

When you one up him he’s gonna reward you because it definitely turned him on that you got him gooooood. Gonna make sure you feel reaaal good about it too with how proud he is of you.

Honestly the tricks and pranks probably lead to playful/spicy play between you guys because it’s kinda like flirting 🤣 especially for him.

[brahmsthirdracket]

Hello! I recently came across your hughes brothers fics and binge read most of them last night :). Would you be open to writing anything about the time Luke said quinn ripped jack’s braces out of his mouth? (If you’re not taking requests feel free to ignore this!!!)

Luke never feels like eating much before cross-country. He likes it fine - he likes it more than fine actually, at least compared to Jack and Quinn, because it’s one of the few things he’s better at than them - but the thought of slogging it through the mud straight after breakfast makes his stomach roll.

He swirls his spoon around his bowl of cereal instead, trying to corral his Cheerios into a pleasing formation. He’s got a kind of Great Lakes thing going on but he’s eaten Lake Superior and it’s doesn’t really make sense for the milk to be the land and - 

“Time to go, kiddos!”

He swallows Lakes Erie, Michigan, Huron and Ontario, and the surrounding landmass with a grimace, and shuffles into the hall. Jack and Quinn are already sitting on the stairs wearing matching fleecy headbands and looking miserable. 

“It’s cold,” Jack whines. 

“Run faster then,” their mom says, rummaging through her purse. “You’ll soon warm up.” She looks real pretty today, Luke thinks. Like maybe she did her hair extra nice or something. He pulls his headband on and sits on the bottom step, cheek resting on Quinn’s knee, to wait. 

“Jim!” she bellows. “Hurry up! I’m already running late!” 

“For what?” Their dad’s head appears through the basement door, followed by his golf clubs and then the rest of him. “Where are you going?”

“Where are you going?”

“The PTA fall fundraiser,” says his mom, at the same time his dad says, “Golf.” 

“It’s on the calendar,” they both say at the same time. 

“Well, you’ll have to reschedule,” says his mom in that voice that means no arguing. “Boys have a meet in Sunnybrook.” 

“But -” splutters his dad. “I can’t reschedule. I put it on the calendar, like you told me to.” He lowers his voice, pleading. “El, it’s with the guys.”

“It’s okay mom,” says Quinn, standing up to lean over the bannister and pat her shoulder consolingly. “We’ll miss cross-country this one time.” 

“Let me see this,” she growls, and they all trot into the kitchen after her to peer at her Wildflowers of Texas calendar. 

Fall Fundraiser shift 9-12 is written in today’s box in his mom’s neat handwriting, and below that: 

Q, J & L Prep 2 XC 9am (don’t forget headbands!!)

Someone’s drawn a skull next to cross-country, almost- but-not-quite obscuring a tiny and unmistakable golf printed right at the bottom. 

“See?” says his dad, jabbing a finger at it. 

“Well, just go after the race and take the boys with you,” she says, already fishing out her car keys. 

“But - tee time is at nine! Ellen!” 

“It’d better be a quick race then, hadn’t it?”

She kisses each of them, pinching Jack’s scowling face and adjusting Quinn’s headband. Luke turns his face into her fleeting pat on the cheek before she’s out the door in a waft of perfume.

“Run fast and don’t fall in the lake!” she calls ominously over her shoulder, just before the door swings shut behind her. 

Their dad waits for her SUV to pull out of the drive and down the road before he flicks the curtain back into place and motions for them all to huddle in. 

“Come here, rink rats.” He tugs them in close, lowers his voice like he’s about to reveal some top-secret play. “And listen up. This is the plan.”

***

The plan turns out to be the ODR, a bag of pucks and a cheery, “I’ll pick you up in a coupla hours!” before Luke’s even out of the car. 

Jack whoops with happiness the minute he hits the ice, spinning and sending the pucks scattering in every direction. Quinn’s right behind him, thwacking puck after puck into the net. 

“Fuck.” Thwack “Cross.” Thwack “Countryyyyy.” Thwack

“Forever,” Jack sing-songs, sweeping one up onto his stick and slinging it through the air. It bounces off the metal with a twang.

“C’mon Lukey,” he calls, scuffling playfully against Quinn. “Don’t pretend you actually like that shit.”

Luke tries to sulk for a bit, taking his time with his laces. His brothers hadn't even laced them up for him, which, rude. But it’s a perfect November morning, as crisp and perfect as a snowglobe before you turn it upside down. They’ve got the whole rink to themselves. It’s been way too long since they did this: no adults, no cones or drills or gear, just the three of them together, playing hockey. 

“Yeah, well some of us can actually outrun old ladies pushing little dogs in strollers,” he chirps, darting out into the middle. 

Quinn and Jack exchange a look. “Get ‘im,” growls Quinn, with a wolfish grin, lurching towards Luke and trying to hook him in with his stick. Luke squeals, twisting away and rocketing as fast as he can up to the other end of the rink, Jack in hot pursuit. They chase him all over, dodging pucks and their abandoned sticks and gloves, until they’re all wheezing with giggles. Quinn eventually manages to get an arm around his neck from behind and pull them both down and Jack belly-flops on top. 

“One day,” Luke pants from the bottom of the dogpile, trying to knee Quinn in the balls so he’ll let him up and getting a facewash for his troubles, “I’m gonna be bigger and faster than both of you.” 

“But until that day,” Quinn replies, finally rolling off and tugging Luke to his feet, “You can get in goal.” 

They play shinny until they’re hot under their sweatshirts and jerseys, hair sticking to their foreheads and breath coming in short pants, and Luke thinks he’s never had so much fun playing hockey, playing anything. It’s hard though, just as gut-churning as a whole weekend tournament or relentless drills in the basement with his dad. Jack and Quinn never give an inch, never care that he’s smaller and younger when it comes to this, and he loves them for it, because when victory comes, he knows he’s earned it. They push each other just as hard, sometimes too hard Luke thinks, watching Jack cuss and elbow Quinn in the gut as they're scrabbling against the boards. Quinn shoves his face back, and the next minute they’re rolling around on the ice in one of their completely shitty fistfights. 

Luke hovers next to them, glancing around and praying no one he knows from school is about to walk past. 

“Stop. Trying. To. Bite.” pants out Quinn. He’s managed to roll over and pin Jack with his weight, and is trying to push his face away. Jack’s a slippery eel though - especially when he’s an eel on ice - and he seems to be trying to lick Quinn to get him off. Which is not a tactic Luke would use himself, honestly, but whatever works he guesses. It must work, because he manages to sink his teeth into Quinn’s forearm and they’re rolling all over the place, gloves and sticks forgotten - thank God. What happens next is a blur of flying arms and legs (and in Jack’s case teeth, the weirdo), but suddenly Jack lets out a shriek of pain - a real one - and Quinn lets go of him like he’s been burned. 

Jack curls up, one hand over his mouth, and whimpers into his knees. 

“Jack? What’s wrong?” Quinn tries to make him look up, pull his hand down. Jack’s eyes are huge with unshed tears. “Jackie?” Quinn asks again, really worried now.

“Um,” says Luke. He squats down next to Jack and picks up the little piece of metal off the ice. Cradling it in his glove, he holds it out to Jack, who gazes at it for a moment and then promptly socks Quinn square in the jaw. 

***

“Someone’s arm better be hanging off,” growls their father when he pulls up to the curb they’re huddled next to and flings the car door open. Luke wordlessly holds out the braces to him. “The fuck is that?” 

“Jack’s braces,” mumbles Quinn, with a guilty glance at the unhappy figure hunched on the other side of the lot. 

“Jack has braces?” Sometimes Luke thinks he could grow a tail and his dad wouldn’t notice unless it affected his play. Last week he had to check Quinn’s date of birth so he could fill out some paperwork.

“He doesn’t anymore, Dad,” Luke pipes up. 

“Jack! Get over here!” he bellows. He takes the braces from Luke’s hand, holding them up for a better view. “These things just click back into place or what?” Jack stomps over, scowling and sniffing. He won’t even look at Quinn, and when Quinn tries to reach out his hand Jack smacks it away viciously. 

“Fuck off.”

Their dad gets a handful of Jack’s jersey and tries to prise his mouth open like he’s a dog that’s eaten something bad. “Oww", whines Jack, trying to twist out of his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

“Open. Up.” Their dad grunts, trying to push the braces back across Jack’s front teeth with one hand, and hold him still with the other. 

“Dad, no! Stop!” Quinn pushes himself between them, trying to protect Jack from being force-fed a mouthful of metal. “You can’t do that! We have to go to the orthodontist.”

“The what?” he pants, temporarily letting go of Jack to turn the metal round, as if the reason he couldn’t fit them back on like Lego was that they were upside down. Jack immediately darts behind Quinn and Luke reaches up to swipe them out of their Dad’s hand. 

“Dad,” he says, more bravely than he feels. “I think you need to call Mom.”

The three of them huddle together on the backseat, trying to stay as quiet and inconspicuous as possible as their dad calls their mom for instruction. Luke finds a packet of half-eaten Reese’s pumpkins, no worse for being frozen and unfrozen a few times and settles in for the long-haul. Jack slumps sideways with his head in Quinn’s lap, playing with the strings of his sweatshirt and allowing Quinn to scratch behind his ear in apology.

She’s ominously silent all the way through the slightly edited version of what happened, not even interrupting to yell at Quinn. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says, after a pause. “You didn’t take your sons to their scheduled sports-activity but instead took yourself to golf and allowed said sons out unsupervised to publicly brawl, causing hundreds of dollars of dental bills?” 

“It was on the calendar! It was on the calendar Ellen!” 

“Well Jim Hughes, all I will say is thank God for Canadian healthcare.”

“They cover braces?” says his dad, perking up. He twists round to waggle his eyebrows at them, all looks like we got away with it.

“Oh no,” she says airily. “I meant for you four, when I’ve finished with you!”

[abbyslvrrr]

Fade into you pt.2

Boxer!sevika x topside!reader

Finally done part 2! (it literally took me a whole month) I kept losing motivation to write BUT I FINALLY FINISHED TODAY!! Hope y’all like it! (I don’t think I’ll continue this tbh) I feel like this kinda sucks ass can’t lie.

WC: 1167

The following day, you couldn't stop thinking about Sevika and the interaction you had with her. The way she got so close to you, the way she looked as she was sitting there and smoking her cigarette. Ugh, you needed to stop thinking of her seriously! Are you actually considering going back? She told you she had a fight next week and you were off next week. 

"Just stop it!” You knew your parents would freak out if they ever found out you went to the undercity, let alone thinking about going back there, but why was the thought of not seeing Sevika making you feel so down? As the next week started approaching, you finally made your decision to go and see Sevika again; you couldn't shake her out of your head. The problem was, you didn't want to tell Sam about it, but you also didn't know your way around the undercity. God, this was going to be a mission. 

You decide to wear something cute this time around—a long-sleeve low-cut shirt and a cute black skirt. For shoes, you went with black combat boots. You do your hair and makeup, grabbing your phone and bag ready to head out, when all of a sudden your mother walks in. 

“Where do you think you're going, young lady?” She questioned you. Shit, what would you say?

"Um, im going to Sams, yeah. She's having a little girls night!” praying that she believed you, sometimes it blew your mind that as an adult your mother was still so stuck with you. You actually hated it, but you didn't say anything about it. Your mother nodded her head.

"Okay, be safe honey. Text me when you get home, okay?” she said as she hugged you and left you be. You sighed and went out. You kind of felt bad for lying to your mother, but it was whatever at this point. Stepping out of your house, you try your best to remember the way Sam took you, and you find yourself where she took you last time. 

As you walk your way over to the fighting ring, you can't help but feel eyes all on you. ‘Of course they'd stare; you literally look like you're from the topside.’ you say to yourself. You get there and see Sevika already in the ring fighting her opponent. You manage to get yours close enough to see her. 

The guy she is fighting is like 2x bigger than her, and yet she's so unfazed by it. He lands a hit on Sevika and knocks her back, but only for a second because she's right back and hits him back so hard he goes flying back. There's a small break that was called; Sevika looks into the crowd and manages to spot you. She thought you were so easily spottable; you see her and smile at her. You see the blood on her face, probably a bloody nose. She sends a wink your way, and you swear you passed out there. After the break, Sevika and the guy were at it again. He goes to hit him, but Sevika has him figured out this time and blocks his punch, and she knocks him to the ground; he stays there, probably passed out. 

Sevika is declared winner once again, and everyone goes crazy like last week. Sevika motions to the back, where the little room is. You make your way through the busy crowd and step into the room.

“You came, doll.” Her voice boomed; god, her voice was like fucking music to your ears. Why is she making you feel this way? You could listen to her voice all day.

"Yeah, I did come back; I don’t really know why.” Suddenly, your shoes became the most interesting thing in the world. A part of you wanted to get to know Sevika, possibly befriend her, maybe something more. But knowing that Sevika was from the undercity and a boxer, you knew it could never happen. Feeling a warm hand grab your chin gently and lift it up broke you out of your little trance. You are met with Sevika's eyes; god, you could get lost in those eyes of hers. She leans in a bit closer.

"Oh, you know why, doll, don't play stupid with me. You wanted to come see me; that's why you're here.” You hated how right she was. She pulled away from you and backed away. 

“Lets celebrate my win doll." She opened the door for you, and you walked out. The bar was crowded, and so was the dance floor; you felt a bit nervous about this not really being your scene. She grabbed your hand and dragged you to a table where a couple other guys were seated. She pulled you to that table sitting down; you sat beside her. 

Everyone looked a bit intimidating to you. Someone approaches the table and hands Sevika a drink; of course they would know what she liked. She fights here and celebrates here. Sevika chugs down her drink before looking at you. 

“So what do you usually drink? Something fancy?” The truth was you never really drank; when you did drink, it was just a small bit of wine or a little champagne. You didn't even know if you should drink anything tonight; I mean, how would you even go home? 

"Oh, I usually have a bit of wine, but I don't think I'll drink tonight.” You explain to her; she lets out a small chuckle. God,  she was perfect. No! You can't be thinking of her like that. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I figured as much; I don't think you'd find the best kind around here.” Sevika says as she starts on her second drink of the night. Hours go by and you have amazing conversations with Sevika; she tells you all about the undercity, and you tell her about Piltover. You knew that conditions down in the undercity were not great at all, and she was so passionate talking about her place here. You admired that about her. Hours pass, and before you know it, the time is 2330 and you have to leave. Sevika offers to take you at least halfway. 

Staying close to Sevika, you two begin the journey back. As you get closer and closer to where you need to go, Sevika asks you a question. “Would you want to come down again next week? "Uh, don’t have a fight, so we can maybe just spend the day together.” 

You put a hand on her bicep, smiling up at her, “Of course, Sevika. I’ll see you here again next week.” She pulls her phone out and gives it to you, typing in your number and saving it into her phone. You reach up and give Sevika a kiss on her cheek. “See you sev!" With that, you run off.

Sevika makes it her goal to get with you no matter what.

 

[bitethedevil]

If you’re taking writing prompts consider-

Raphael reacting to Tav/Durge confessing they’re in love with him

I made it a Durge because I haven't written a lot of Durge stuff (fun fact: the first longer fic I ever wrote was with a Durge warlock that had Raph as a patron, but I never released it). Raph is being a bit of a manipulative dick in this one, but what's new. Also, I'm slow as fuck at replying to my asks (especially prompts)

Love

Clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack…clack clack clack clack.

His office was deadly quiet except for the sound of his claws tapping on the hard mahogany of his desk, a dangerous rhythm that she knew immediately what meant the second she heard it. The rhythm echoed her heartbeat as she waited for her patron to say something. She was in trouble.

He was leaning against his desk, looking at her and keeping her in suspense. A cruel smile stretched over his face, as he saw how she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She had defeated monsters, mindflayers, gods…even the biggest monster of them all, her father. Still, nothing made her stomach churn more than the thought of Raphael’s wrath.

The feeling humiliated her as much as it thrilled her and drew her closer to him. She had been a god in her own right with all the lives she took under Bhaal and the cult she had led in his name, but this mere cambion brought her to her knees.

She was like a moth to his fiery flames. Everything about him excited her: his cruelness, his gracious mercy at times, his power plays. He felt like home. There was something safe and known in that cruelty that drew her closer. It was something she understood the rules of.

Click clack…

“I have always questioned your loyalty,” he finally said and moved his claws up to his face to look at them as he spoke. “It is no secret that I am prone to play favorites, but perhaps I made a mistake when I took you in…”

His yellow eyes looked up at her. His comment hit her like a punch to the gut and she knew as well as him that that was the intended effect. She hated the feeling of disappointing him. She hated that she felt that way about it even more. She cleared her throat.

“What is this about?” she asked quietly.

That was the wrong question. She could see it from the way his tail flicked in irritation. She had taught herself every one of his physical cues. They were subtle sometimes, but easier to read in this form. The man had total control over his body, but the devil was just a tad less composed.

“What is this about?” he repeated his question in a smooth, even tone. “Many things, my dear.”

That was another thing she had learned: it was never just one thing. Raphael held grudges. He archived every little mistake in his head in neat files, so he could throw them in your face when you stepped out of line.

“You came crawling to me after your father spat you out, after defying me at every turn and without a crown for me. You begged me to take you in, and yet I question your devotion to my cause. You owe me a grand debt when it comes to loyalty. A debt you have not yet paid back with your services, and one that I now question if you will ever pay back if you keep associating yourself with the wrong people.”

She had wanted to give him the Crown of Karsus. She had liked him even back then. Her companions had fought her every step of the way, and with her dealing with Bhaal, she had too much on her plate to fight them on it.

“It wasn’t my choice, Raphael,” she pleaded. “You know—”

“Yes, yes,” he cut her off impatiently with a wave of his clawed hand. “I have heard all your endless excuses…and I graciously forgave you, didn’t I? You would have been a bloody stain on my carpet long ago if I had not. What I cannot forgive is disloyalty.”

“Raphael, please,” she pleaded quietly. “Just tell me what I have done. I’ll make it right.”

Another flick of his tail. His nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, but he quickly schooled his features back into one of indifference.

“What were you doing in Waterdeep?” he asked slowly, each word as heavy as a brick.

That was what all of this was about. She had visited Gale. Gale who had been the very reason that the Crown of Karsus did not go to Raphael. Gale and her had started out as friends, but it evolved to something more along the way. It did not work out. Gale was too perfect, too functional for her. She broke his heart, and she would be lying if she said that this fact wasn’t taken into consideration when she gave up on trying to give to the Crown of Karsus to Raphael.

“I was just visiting,” she admitted. “Nothing more.”

“Just visiting,” he repeated with a hint of venom in his voice. “Just visiting an old flame that snubbed your patron of what was rightfully his, is that right? Is he well, our dear Gale? Does his new unburdened life suit him?”

“We are friends—”

“Friends,” Raphael said with a cruel laugh. “How awfully sentimental of you, dear. How soft you have become. I remember a ruthless woman who murdered her way through Baldur’s Gate. That woman, I could have used. It seems that your father has stripped you of everything that once made you interesting.”

That comment made her furious. It made her blood boil, but then why was she on the verge of crying instead? Why did she find herself pleading instead of yelling?

“Gale and I have been through hell and back,” she said. “It doesn’t change my loyalties for you. Please, Raphael.”

“I will NOT be made to look a fool!!” he roared with a sudden fire in his eyes.

The sound boomed through his office. She flinched. His tail flicked from side to side now. He looked her up and down. It seemed to please him how she was turning pale at his words and tearing up. He returned to his calm and collected demeanor as quickly as he got angry.

“Why are you crying?” he asked without a shred of sympathy in the question.

She tried to stop, but she couldn’t. She just wanted him to understand that she was devoted to him, and that this was all a mistake. She had not meant to cross him or make him angry, but merely to visit an old friend. His nails started tapping on the table again as he waited for her to speak.

“Can’t you— can’t you see that I’m only loyal to you?” she sobbed. Clack, clack… “I made a contract with you because I wanted to work for you. I’m yours, and only yours.” Clack, clack, clack. “Can’t you see how I only want to please you? How much I love you?”

Clack.

He froze for a moment at the oddly heartfelt confession that escaped her lips. She had not meant for that to come out, but he was great at pressuring her into saying things she didn’t want to admit. It was a humiliating confession. She hated being so vulnerable and weak. She wished that she could stuff the words right back down her throat. He wasn’t supposed to know.

A smile spread over his otherwise frozen face. He looked her up and down and let out a small huff of laughter. He looked like a man who had just been handed the perfect weapon. His hand left the table and beckoned her closer with a finger.

She walked over to him, unable to look him in the eye. He tilted her head up with a claw under her chin. He towered over her in that form.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She looked into his yellow eyes. He was smiling at her.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she repeated.

The humiliation in the confession was more apparent this time, and he was eating it up like it was the best meal he had had in centuries. He laughed her straight in the face.

“Oh, dear,” he said with a chuckle. “A creature of habit, aren’t you? You poor girl…”

She swallowed hard. She should have just shut up. His thumb ran over her jaw and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch set her aflame, despite the excruciating embarrassment she was feeling.

“Do I remind you of your dear old papa?” he asked, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Is that what this is about? It is always the fathers, isn’t it? Still searching for the approval of a cruel master, even now. Perhaps you haven’t changed at all, my dear…”

She kept quiet. He leaned closer as if sharing a secret. She could smell wine and tobacco on his breath. His thumb rubbed circles on her jaw.

“Tell me,” he whispered to her. “Where did your dear Gale fit into this picture? I’m awfully curious.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips for only a second, but he didn’t miss it by the way his smile widened.

There was only one acceptable answer and she prayed that she would choose the right one. She shrugged.

“He didn’t,” she said quietly.

That was the right answer from the way his smile widened.

“No, I would imagine not,” he said. “Too…boring…wasn’t he? He was not enough of a challenge for you, so you discarded him.”

There was a hint of guilt in her eyes at his words. He tutted gently and caressed her cheek.

“Who could blame you?” he cooed. “People like us won’t concern ourselves with boredom. You were right in choosing to focus on greater things. Gale was easy. Pleasing him was easy. He would not make you fight for it like I will.”

That promise made a shiver go through her. Raphael grabbed her arm and tugged her even closer, until she was standing between his legs with her chest pressed against his. His hand came to rest on her hip. He pressed his forehead against her, his nose touching hers. He was tantalizingly close.

“You are mine then, aren’t you?” he asked. “Only mine.”

She nodded. He gave a dangerous smile.

“You want to please me,” he said. “To make me happy…”

Another nod.

“You love and adore me.”

Another nod. His lips were so close she could almost taste them. His thumb was rubbing circles into her hip. His tail was flicking side to side, but not in rage. It was more like a cat that is ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey that it had been sneaking up on for a while.

“You will write a letter to Gale Dekarios and say that you are unavailable for any future visits,” he whispered against her lips. “That you have already done plenty for him and that you never want to see him again.”

His lips brushed lightly against hers before he pulled away, stealing her breath. She chased his lips, but he only smiled and pulled away further. She knew she had to earn it.

“Go. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” he said with a smile and let go of her.

[ender-cloud]

SCREAMING OH MY GOD HYDE!!!

(Spoilers ahead)

This page is the transition to the depression stage of grief, I knew it was going to be Depression and then bargaining.

Depression:

The start of an eventual break down, Hyde is on the ground, blood on his hands, as the reality of what he just did hits him, the reality of Jekyll not coming back, its all hitting him, and he can’t handle it

He broke what he thinks is his only possible way to communicate with Jekyll and he’s officially lost. He needs Jekyll badly, Jekyll is the one who keeps him sane, weather he likes to admit it or not he cant handle this body on his own.

Hyde can’t sleep, he can’t eat, if he doesn’t have Jekyll he will literally die because he isn’t able to function as a human being and won’t be able to take care of their body. I feel like subconsciously Hyde must know this.

Even if it’s not his main concern right now it’s probably still lurking in the back of his mind that without Jekyll; he will not be able to survive

“You ruined HIM”

Not it, not yourself, HIM

This could be referring too two different things; the mirror Jekyll, or Jekyll as a person.

If its the mirror; He broke the mirror, therefore ruining it, not really that deep so that’s why I think he’s talking about ruining Jekyll

He pushed Jekyll to the edge, he ruined Jekyll’s sanity and patience to a point where Jekyll will do anything to ruin Hyde. Hyde knows that he caused this and he feels horrible about it.

Not only is the “Broken, Shattered, Smashed” talking about the mirror but It’s also talking about how everything is broken now, the system that once was no longer exists, Jekyll broke Hydes control, everything in Hydes life is Shattered to bits now

He’s kicking himself over it again and again like his mind is against him, but he agrees even if it’s not said outright it’s obvious with Hyde apologizing to the broken mirror that at least a bit of him thinks it’s true.

Seeing Hydes reflection, broken in Two, is like Jekyll and Hyde being broken apart now, his two sides even more separated more than before; even though its just 1 person again its different. Jekyll had both sides before the separation but now Hyde only has his side, he has no part of Jekyll except for the Parts Jekyll didn’t want. He Is Alone, he is a half of a whole

Hyde’s eyes look so bright and big, he looks so young here, so confused, and so desperate

“I’ll put you back together. Just don’t-“ theres a few things Hyde could’ve been saying here, but my first thought was that he’s saying “Just don’t leave” but stopping himself because Jekyll already has left him, and asking someone who isn’t there not go leave might just make him realize it more.

“I’ll fix it i swear” He’s so desperate, so desperate to show Jekyll he’s sorry and so desperate to get him back.

“Don’t leave me alone”

Hyde’s always had company, Unlike Jekyll theres never been a moment where he was alone because Jekyll was always there, even if he wasn’t talking while Hyde had taken over he was still there and Hyde knew that

But now that Jekyll is being silent, now that Jekyll has left him, he feels like he can’t do anything now. He’s officially lost, desperate for guidance, wanting to hold on to anything but all he can do is beg Jekyll to stay with him.

Hyde has no control, Jekyll has left him with nothing

Hyde has lost

[wikitpowers]

analysing the (heartbreaking) kitty letter bc i will never get over it <\3

Ty, Ty, Ty.

kit repeating his name so many times bc he is physically incapable of stopping oh i want to cry

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

he spends so much time thinking about everything related to ty, even his name and how it’a pronounced. it's like he has a little box in the back of his mind reserved for all things ty and he only allows himself to open it sometimes, when he can't help himself any longer. and he does it, despite the pain it causes him.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth.

late at night, all kit can think about is ty and everything he lost. in the darkness, he can allow himself to feel and remember.

Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost.

this is one of the only happy parts in the whole letter. i love how it shows how much jem and tessa care about kit, how much they have made him a part of their home, their family. they truly want only the best for him and love him so much, they want him to have all of the things he never had with johnny (+ we have further confirmation that kit can definitely see oscar wilde which is simply adorable).

I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.

it's giving "of course animals also love you, it's hard not to love you" and the way he says it with such ease… like loving ty is natural and not surprising at all bc it's just the way things are. but then he goes back to his toxic mindset that it's too late now, it's too late for that love to grow because they're not together anymore, it's too late to take back everything that happened between them.

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

he doesn't like being angry, he wants to move on, but he can't because it's ty. maybe if it was anyone other than ty. but it's not. no matter how hard he tries, he can't forget everything that happened at the lake. even when he's doing normal ordinary things, it will hit him that he's not okay, even after all this time. kit is struggling to forgive but he's really trying.

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

the reason why it's so hard to forgive is because of all the memories which are still so fresh in his mind. he can remember every detail, he can remember the pain it caused him to open himself up like that and then be broken apart. he was truly honest with someone for once and took a chance only for it all to come crashing down, for it to be clear that ty never wanted any of that and he certainly never wanted him (what a bunch of bs, kit, c'mon bffr) :(

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that.

the way he says he understands it has my throat tying up bc kit genuinely believes it - that ty could never love him. and more so, that he has good reason for it. nobody has ever loved him so why should ty be any different? kit isn't angry about not being loved (he's never been loved), it's that ty changed himself. ty became someone kit never thought he could be, someone he can’t recognise. all of kit's anger is directed towards ty and what he did to himself, it was never about kit's hurt feelings. kit knows hurt, he's dealt with it his whole life. his concern is ty.

And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

i think kit’s greatest fear is turning into johnny. turning into someone who has so little love to give, someone who lies and cheats their way through life, makes kit terrified that he could end up like johnny. (but i also really love the fact that johnny was brought up at all bc it shows kit still thinks about him and that his death did impact him. i can't wait to see more of what kit thinks about him in twp).

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

and still, despite his anger; despite him not being able to forgive; despite feeling betrayed; he still loves ty. he still wants ty by his side. he wants to tell him everything that he wrote on paper, he wants ty to hear his words and be angry at him. he just wants ty.

and the yelling bit… like michi said, i hope the mutual yelling at each other will end in an angry kiss ehem

Kit

oh how painful it is to sign a letter he will never send

[swiftieblyth]

Mrs. Cameron: Chapter 1: Engagement

warnings- obx

“Hey, baby,” Rafe smiled, walking up to you at the country club.

“Hi, honey,” you smiled, sweetly smiling up at him, as he wrapped his arms around you, catching your lips in a quick kiss.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I missed you.”

“Baby, I just saw you,” he smiled.

“It was like two hours ago,” you pouted, jutting your lip out, and looking up at him, making him chuckle, as he sat in the chair next to you.

“I was just out with boys, baby. I wasn’t far at all.”

“I know.” You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re sweaty.”

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. It was really hot out there today. How about we go back to Tannyhill and I take a shower before our date?”

“That sounds great, Rafey.” You smiled.

🌊💰🌊

You got back to Tannyhill and walked hand and hand, into the house. “Hey, Y/N,” Rose smiled, as she saw you walk in with Rafe.

“Hi, Rose.” You smiled.

“Oh, incoming,” Rafe, mumbled, as he heard his youngest sister running in.

“Y/N!” Wheezie smiled, running up to you.

“Hey, Wheez,” you smiled, letting go of Rafe, and wrapping her up in a big hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Wheezie, don’t you have homework?” Rafe asked, trying to get you back all to himself.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she shrugged.

“How ‘bout I help you?” You asked.

“But, what about our date?” Rafe asked, a slight pout on his lips.

“It’s fine, Rafe. I’ll help her while you shower, then we can go on our date, okay?”

“Fine.” Rafe sighed.

“I love you,” you smiled, getting on your tiptoes and giving him a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

“Okay, so what’s this homework, Wheez?”

🌊💰🌊

“Okay, so that means that the answer is b?” Wheezie asked.

“Yep, that’s right,” you smiled, just then you felt arms wrapping around your chest. You looked up and saw your boyfriend standing behind you, though he was looking at you, you could see the distant look in his eyes.

“Hi, Rafey.”

“Hi, baby. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

🌊💰🌊

“You okay?” You asked, sitting in his truck as he was pulling into the parking lot.

“What?” He asked, knocking out of the daze he was trapped in.

“Was it your dad again?” You asked, resting a hand on his thigh as he softly nodded. “What now?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, putting the car in park. “Let’s just go enjoy our night.”

“Rafey,” you pressed, seeing the tears in his eyes.

“Please?” He begged, his voice shaking as a tear fell.

“Oh, my poor baby,” you let out, feeling your heartbreak as you pulled to your chest, holding him in his arms. “Did he hit you again?”

“Not this time,” he choked, crying into your chest.

“Then what happened, baby?” You asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, pulling away and trying to look presentable. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Hey, look at me,” you let out, cupping his face in your hands. “Look at me baby. We have all the time. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just the same stuff.” He let out. “I just want to make him proud, Y/N. I just want him to love me.” “I know. I know baby. I’m sure he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“No, he doesn’t. And he’s not proud of me.”

“Well that’s his mistake, baby. I love you so much, and I am so proud of you. You’re my favorite person on earth. You know that right?”

“I love you, baby.” He let out, falling back into your chest.

🌊💰🌊

“Thank you,” Rafe let out as the two of you were walking on the beach, watching the sunset.

“For what, baby?”

“For always being there for me. For loving me. I don’t deserve it. I’m sure I’m hard to love. Yet you’re still here, and you still love me.”

“Rafey, are you kidding?” You asked, looking up at him. “You are not hard to love. You make it so easy. I love you so much baby, and you do deserve it. You deserve every good thing that comes your way. And I love you more than you could ever know.”

“Marry me?” he asked, looking down at you.

“One day, Rafey,” you laughed. “Besides, our wedding’s been planned to happen since we were kids.”

“I mean marry me now?” He asked, getting down on one knee.

“Rafe?” You gasped, tears coming to your eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not honey. Darling, I want to marry you right now. I love you so much.”

“But aren’t we too young?”

“Who cares? Screw that. I don’t care if we’re young or not because I love you, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, it’s not like it really matters because our parents are going to have us get married anyway. So what do you say baby. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You yelled, getting down and jumping on him, knocking him to the sand, kissing his lips. He let out a small groan as he landed on the sand, but continued to kiss you.

“You gotta let me put the ring on, baby,” he laughed, pulling away.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed as you watched Rafe put the ring on your finger. “You know this is really gonna piss them off.”

“Then that's just another good reason to do it.” He smiled, get them back at their own game.

“Gosh, I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

🌊💰🌊

“You’re getting married?” Sarah and Wheezie said in unison as you and Rafe broke the news to your families. 

“We’re getting married!” You smiled, sitting on the couch holding Rafes arm tightly waiting for your parents' reactions.

“This is the best day of my life!” Wheezie yelled, jumping into your arms, making you laugh. “You’re like officially gonna be my sister! I mean you’ve always been like my sister, but now it’s official! When’s the wedding? Where are you two going to live, will I be able to come visit?” “Wheeze, Sarah,” Ward cut in, making you tense as Wheezie pulled out of your arms. “Why don’t you guys give the adults a moment to talk?”

“But Dad,” Wheezie started.

“Come on, Wheeze,” Sarah let out, grabbing Wheezie’s hand. “Rafe and Y/N need to talk to the parents.”

“You’re getting married?” Your mother asked, the second Sarah and Wheezie left the room.

“Yes,” you let out, trying not to show your nerves.

“This is insane!” Ward cut in. “Do you understand how big of a deal this is? You two are just kids!”

“We’re adults Dad!” Rafe let out.

“No,” Rose cut in. “19 is barely an adult.”

“But we can legally get married,” you explained, looking at your parents with pleading looks.

“What makes you think this is such a good idea?” You dad asked.

“Because we love each other, sir.” Rafe explained, gingerly lacing your finger together.

“Just because you love each other doesn’t mean you can just run off and get married just because it’s legal.” Ward cut in.

“Well it doesn’t really matter Dad!” Rafe yelled, standing up, getting close to his father. “It doesn’t matter because you arranged for our marriage when we were just kids, so whether we love each other or not it doesn’t matter because the four of you are going to make us get married anyways!”

“Rafe,” you breathed, not wanting this to escalate.

“You’re just pissed that Y/N and I actually love each other, because you don’t care if we love each other or not, you just want what's best for you and your reputation, so of course you’re pissed that we want to get married now, because it would look bad on you! But the great Ward Cameron can’t afford to have that! He can’t afford to have his son disappoint him again, to make him look like an embarrassment! But guess what Dad, that seems to be all I ever do!”

“Rafe,” you let out, grabbing his hand.

“You’re high right now, aren't you, Rafe?” Ward asked.

“No, Dad!” Rafe yelled, at this point you weren't going to stop Rafe, because you wanted to punch Ward too for what he just said. “And if you even cared you would have noticed then I’ve been clean for a year now all because of Y/N!”

“Okay, how about we all just calm down,” your mother let out. 

“I think that’s a really good idea,” Rose let out, as you and Rafe sat down. You could feel just how tense he was and held his arm, rubbing your hand up and down to try and calm him. 

“I understand where you kids are coming from about it not really mattering because you two are arranged,” your dad let out. “But have you really thought all of this through?”

“Yes sir,” Rafe explained. “I love Y/N so much, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I know that we’re young, but I just know this is right. Sir, your daughter has been the best part of my life, and she has helped me through so much, and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be sober. Sir, please, I promise to love and protect her for the rest of my life, and to do her right and treat her well, sir. May I please have your blessing to marry your daughter?”

“You two are going to do it no matter what we say, aren’t you?” Your father asked.

“Yes sir,” you cut in. “Besides, it's not like you can really say anything. You and Mom did the same thing when you were 18.”

“Well, she does have a point there,” your mom smiled, giving you a wink.

“Okay, so if you two really do this then where would you two even live?”

“I don’t know that yet sir, but I promise to find the perfect place for your daughter.”

“They can stay at Tannyhill.” Ward let out, making everyone look at him in shock.  

“What?” Rose asked, standing up, looking ready to revolt. “They’re going to be staying at Tannyhill?”

“Why not?” Ward explained. “Rafe already has his own wing of the house practically. Besides Y/N’s over all the time, so it won’t be like anything changes.”

“Are you sure about this Ward?” Your dad asked.

“I’m sure, Scott. If the two are going to get married anyways that might as well have our blessings and a place to stay.”

🌊💰🌊

Wedding day

“Wake up!” Wheezie yelled, running in your room and jumping on top of you.

“Off,” you groaned, fluttering your eyes open. “Wheeze, what time is it?”

“It’s like 9!” She let out, laying down next to you. “Come on! It’s your wedding day, it’s time to get up!”

“Oh my gosh it’s today!” You smiled, bolting up and checking your phone. You opened it and saw a text from Rafe.

Rafe-

Hey baby, I miss you already! I can’t believe we’re getting married today! I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle this evening! You’re already so beautiful and I’m sure that dress you picked is magnificent and I can’t wait to see it my love! I love you more than you ever know, and much more than I could ever say. I can’t wait to be husband and wife tonight! Counting down the seconds until I see you and make you my wife! I love you 

You couldn’t help but smile a school girl crush giddy smile as you read the text.

“Gross,” Wheezie groaned. “Did my brother text you?”

“He did.” You smiled, looking down at the girl laying next to you. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, honey. I’m about to move in with you,” you smiled.

“I know! I can’t wait! Just don’t do anything gross while I’m around.”

“And what would you count as gross?” You asked, rolling on your side to get a good look at your soon to be sister-in-law.

“I don’t know. Just like anything, all lovey dovey and stuff.” 

[maximwtf]

“Should have known better.”

Kinich x Reader

Words: 2500

Google Docs Pages: 4.1

Warnings: Kinich story quest spoilers, angst/hurt w comfort/good ending, saurian death?, platonic relationship

Opening: Kinich is not one for strong reactions, even when dealing with bigger issues. But does his composure falter when a pressure point from the past is pressed?

AN// G/N Reader. Tell me why I completely missed out on Kinich lore even after getting him the first day the banner came out :”D ANYWAY now that I’m in the loop, this just had to be done. Likely not going to write for him again, just felt like doing this one. Hehe, anyway I’ll now disappear to work on another Capitano fic ;; (Was excited about that so I'm sorry if the ending of this is ooc and/or rushed)

“Should have known better.”

Tagging along with Kinich while he was on the job wasn’t something you were used to doing often. But on the other hand, you knew he didn’t mind having you there. Company apart from Ajaw seemed to be something he craved every now and then, not that you blamed him for that. Plus, you never asked for any portion of the funds he was going to get for the commissions even after helping him complete it. Simply enjoying the time spent with him, which had been hard for him to understand in the beginning. Why would someone work on a commission for free, only taking his company as payment? But by now, he seemed to not mind whenever you tagged along. 

And it wasn’t like you were completely useless either. A rather seasoned warrior and a fighter as you were, allowed him to get through commissions faster which wasn’t something he’d turn down especially if it was for free. 

The area this time wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. Some high cliffs that surely would have frightened the less seasoned, but by this point standing on the edge of one didn’t stir those feelings within anymore. Not even while in the heat of battle, like now. 

Your eyes followed Kinich, hooked onto a saurian after having just gotten rid of one. The pack was rather large this time, having caused so much trouble for the people near the cliffs that they’d asked for help from Kinich. 

Your attention was brought back to the situation at hand soon after. Dodging the saurian’s hook, taking a little more speed into your steps before raising your weapon against it. Eyes keen to follow each step of the creature, making sure the hit would land. But while your attention was occupied, Kinich noticed another one  behind you. An easy target, really. It hadn’t even targeted you yet, so getting it to fall off of the cliff would have been easier than having to spend time on fighting it. Kinich loaded his shot, aiming with practised ease and watching to make sure it hit the creature. Though, as soon as it did the saurian managed to hook itself onto your ankle before the explosion ultimately made it lose its balance. Slipping off of the cliff and into the ravine. Affectively throwing you off of your feet with the heavy pull, quickly starting to drag your form along with it down the steep drop. 

There wasn’t any vegetation to take a hold of, grassy ground with dried bushes and a few flowers. Your hands grasped the ground, digging up dirt along the way. Attempting to kick the hook off of your ankle, but it held on tight. Especially when the saurian was basically dead weight in the ravine. Hanging off of you, making its hold ever stronger.

Your eyes quickly moved to Kinich, aware how little there was you could do anymore. A moment flashing by as pure desperate panic flooded your eyes, no words coming out in the moment. Focused solely on trying to get your body back up as it was actively being dragged into what seemed like the end. But your companion appeared frozen. 

Kinich had but a few moments to react, if even that. Having noticed the hook attached itself and soon after you were already hanging on the edge. Grasping at anything nearby to hold on. But even that feeble moment had been enough to make his mind run a course into a dark pit of memories. 

The young yet such a tough boy who’d been chased out by his father. And by a mere mistake, had watched his by then fragile father stumble. Taking a step back a little too close to the edge of the cliff, and with a heavy thud land on the bottom. 

How his body had frozen just as it had on this day. How his whole body had felt the tremble going through it, something he’d never felt before. A warm pressure at the back of his eyes as his body began to move towards the edge. How he’d seen what remained at the bottom of what seemed like an endless drop, having pulled himself back straight after. Chest tightening by the minute. The young yet such a tough man from then on clutching his small hands into fists. Fighting the tears back down, gritting his teeth as his mind raced. The situation was more of a mess than anything he’d seen before. Yet by some miracle he was able to numb his mind enough to push himself back onto his feet and find a grapple hook to bring his father to proper rest. 

But all that was then. Something he thought he wouldn’t have to ever think about again. Yet the lump in his throat as he approached the edge of the cliff proved him otherwise. But what was he so frightened of? And just then, he heard a thud. Something that echoed for but a mere moment. But a sound that felt like something in him had shattered. No rational thought of ‘I haven’t even seen what happened yet’ was able to ease his mind.  Yet his body felt almost as if it was moving on its own. It had been from the moment he’d watched your fingers slip off the edge. Hurrying there to see what could be salvaged. 

Even if his mind had seemingly decided the fate of the situation, his body hadn’t. He wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again. This was not a way to go, for anyone. Least of all you. 

You felt the ground under your hands slip, the last bit of the cliff giving in under the weight. Falling alongside you and the saurian. The speed of the fall was so frightening you could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a minute, before even the thought of doing your all to survive came to mind. 

The walls of the ravine in certain parts were tight enough for roots to connect from one side to another. Not all of them would support the weight of a human, but a few of the older ones were thick enough to be worthy enough to give it a try. To try and wedge yourself between a pair of them. 

And by a miracle, the Night Kingdom wasn’t going to have you on this day. Not now, at the very least. You’d managed to grip a pair of the roots. Gravel, dirt and smaller rocks trickling down the sides of the ravine at the sudden pull on the old roots. For a moment fearing they would give out like the edge of the cliff had. 

You held your breath, eyes widened. As if even the most subtle movement would restart the fall. Even the saurian had mostly stopped thrashing around, almost like even it understood the gravity of the situation. And if it did, that was a problem. The roots weren’t going to hold up the weight of you and the saurian. It had to go for a chance to get back up to even be possible. 

As soon as the air stilled, confirmed the roots were going to allow you a chance. To watch you fight for your life while hanging off of them by your arms. You started kicking the saurian, wiggling and moving the ankle it was attached to. The hook’s hold had slipped earlier when you’d lodged yourself between the roots, so it was no surprise that the already frightened saurian couldn’t hold on for longer. Its hold slipping, keeping you on the edge up until you heard the loud thud that echoed at the very bottom of the ravine. 

The air was so still, only the sound of your heavy breathing and soft trickle of the gravel that fell from the walls of the ravine. Following the fate of the saurian. Leaving you hanging before even thinking of trying to find a more stable spot between the roots. Kinich being still up on the cliff having slipped your mind completely. Focusing all your energy and instinct on finding the most suitable spot to get on before even attempting to come up with a plan to get back up. 

Kinich so desperately wanted to hesitate, not look down the ravine. Not after the thud that had echoed from the bottom of it. The sound that had stirred those memories to resurface, powerful enough to make him wonder if he even wanted to check and confirm the source of the sound. 

But then again, Kinich couldn't just leave and assume what had happened. Peeking over the edge, keen eyes scanning the bottom of the ravine. Only being able to spot the saurian, unmoving at the bottom. His brows furrowed, eyes moving across the walls of the ravine in confusion. A silent breath escaping him after spotting your form lodged between the roots, having heard the rustle of the dirt falling down from around the roots. Not even giving himself time to be relieved before his mind started ticking. Trying to figure out a way to fish you back up. 

“Hold on, I’ll reel you back up.” He called out, voice stoic as ever. And if you hadn’t been in such an attention requiring situation, you could have heard the slight waver in his voice. 

You peered up, merely seeing the man’s shadow before he disappeared off of the cliff edge. Way to leave someone hanging, you thought. A slight snarl appearing on your face before at last making it close enough to the wall of the ravine to calm down for a moment.

Soon a few rocks fell from the top, catching your attention. A grappling hook slowly lowered itself to your level before Kinich appeared at the top. “Wrap it around yourself.” He instructed, the same tone of voice still there. Doing his all to hold it together. Panicking now would only lead to worse losses, and that wasn’t a price he was willing to pay. 

Though, he would have been a fool to not admit the way he was feeling. Having noticed how his hands had shook while fetching the hook. How his breath had hitched at the thud, how tense he felt even now. 

The tug at the end of the rope caught his attention, peering back down to make sure you were securely attached to the grappling hook. 

Trying your best to help him, you used the wall closest to you. Placing the tip of your boot to each crevice you could spot, making the weight a little lighter for him. 

Soon a heavy breath escaped your lips when the familiar grass appeared back into view, crawling back on the top of the cliff. Kinich taking a hold of you, easily lifting your form back up. Dragging you rather far from the edge without even noticing before he let go. 

You allowed yourself to lay on your back, breathing heavily as the seriousness of the situation slowly started to sink in. Staring at the sky, following the few clouds that travelled across in that time. Turning to look at Kinich, watching as he hadn’t allowed himself to sit down. Leaned against his knees, hair hiding most of his face as he stared at the grass. Breaths heavy. A relieved yet tense silence between the two of you. 

Observing him a little longer, it wasn’t hard to tell that he’d clearly been shaken up by the events. And maybe it hadn’t hit you just as hard yet, but you felt almost worse for him than yourself. It wasn’t often that you nor anyone else saw him like this. 

With a silent groan you sat back up, thinking for a moment before deciding to speak up. “You couldn’t have known it would attach itself to me…It’s okay.” Knowing he wasn’t going to let this slip with you merely telling him that it wasn’t his fault, yet still trying. He wasn't the kind of person to not blame himself when he’d been involved in something like this. “No, I should have known. Waited for you to get out of its range. I knew better than that.” Kinich replied, voice surprisingly calm as he stood back up. Completely dismissing your earlier forgiveness. 

You couldn’t get a word in after, not that there was much you could say. He wouldn’t believe you if you kept telling him that he was not at fault here. Merely watching as he kneeled in front of you, eyes scanning your form before doing a more thorough check up for injuries. Lifting each of your limbs, moving them to make sure that nothing was out of place. Mumbling something about the adrenaline wearing off soon and having to check up on you after that again. Gaining him a slight eye roll from you. 

The chuckle you let out couldn’t hide the nervousness still deep in your system, still feeling the need to make him understand. To make him listen, it wasn’t his fault. That there was no reason to think of how it had happened, but to move on and be glad you’d both made it out in one piece. 

You took a hold of his hand, stopping it from wandering around your form. Obsessively checking that everything was okay. Giving him a look before pulling the man down to sit and calm down. Feeling his hand still tremble, clear that he was still on edge about this.

You may have not known everything of his past, and you didn’t have to. No matter what he may have encountered before you’d even met him didn’t matter now. He was allowed to be shocked and panicked, but what you firmly believed he shouldn’t do was to force himself to be so uptight. To make himself move on so quickly. Especially when that didn’t seem to be an unconscious choice, it was one he forced himself to make. 

“Hey, we’re both alive and well…mostly in one piece. Calm down, eh?” You tried to smile at him. Watching as his eyes stared into yours, careful as he eased out and more willingly sat down. A breath escaping him, giving in. If just a little. 

You placed his hand against your chest, breathing calmly. In a way an attempt to calm yourself at the same time, maybe tricking your brain by doing this for him. Watching as wind so high up in the cliffs blew against the both of you, sitting there in silence. Waiting until the initial shock wore off. 

And likely would have waited for longer. If it hadn’t been for the subtle grunt that escaped you when letting go of his hand. Likely having sprained something in your shoulder due to the fall. But it was enough to bring Kinich back on track, quick in his actions as he tugged you back onto your feet. Mumbling something about not wasting any more time and having to go find a medic. Gaining him another eye roll.

[sanccharine]

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer. 

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled. 

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest. 

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?” 

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.” 

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her. 

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her. 

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!” 

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished. 

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ” 

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N. 

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again. 

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.” 

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her. 

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?” 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo. 

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her. 

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?” 

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.  

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.” 

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small. 

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh. 

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.” 

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did. 

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons. 

It was a seemingly unharmful statement. 

Well, no. 

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it. 

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion. 

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you. 

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened. 

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching. 

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas… 

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled. 

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first. 

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you. 

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace. 

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly. 

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time. 

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…” 

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks. 

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.” 

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.” 

You spoke slower so the words sunk in. 

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.” 

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it. 

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you. 

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time. 

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good. 

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again. 

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“ 

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it. 

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.” 

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move. 

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.” 

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.” 

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.” 

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that. 

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.  

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight. 

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

[teal-fiend]

another story about a pred complaining:

You’re pacing back and forth, feeling your stomach growl with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm. It’s been hours since you last ate, and frankly, the ache of an empty belly is infuriating. Your hunger is starting to cloud every thought, each pang only adding to the throbbing irritation boiling in your brain.

A buzz on your phone. Your dealer is outside. You go out, hand them the zip-lock bag full of cash, and then go back and wait patiently inside for your dinner to arrive. 

There’s a quiet knock at the door. Finally. You are so ready for this; A nice, big, juicy prey. You open the door. 

You glance down at the scrawny thing standing in front of you. They look up at you with wide eyes, a faint tremor in their stance, and, admittedly, they don’t look like much. But right now, you’ve got no other options. Or wait, you do have another option: complain.

“Ugh,” you mutter, arms crossed. “Really? You’re what I have to eat?” You prod them with a finger, unimpressed. “A toothpick with hair would be a more substantial meal than this.”

The prey stammers, obviously scared (and somewhat offended) but you’re in no mood for empathy. 

You grumble a bit more, about not getting your money’s worth, maybe a touch louder than necessary, making sure they’re very aware of just how displeased you are about this situation. Not that it was really the prey’s fault - it was your dealer. Did you just get fleeced? Hunger gnaws at you, however, and with one last irritated sigh, you lean in, swallowing them whole.

As they slide down, they’re far bony-er than you’d like. You wince at every awkwardly poking elbow and angular knee. How you managed to gulp them down at all is a mystery. They settle heavily in your stomach, and you can feel them nestled there, uncomfortable and prickly. You grimace, picking at your teeth as your stomach groans around them.

“You better not give me indigestion,” you grumble, poking at the lump they make in your belly.

But as you sit there, arms crossed, the fullness starts to spread. The initially irritating weight begins to ease up, warmth spreading over your belly as your hunger disappears, replaced by an undeniable sense of satisfaction. It’s... actually kind of nice. You shift a bit, suppressing a yawn as the fullness wraps around you like a cozy blanket.

“Urrp!” A hearty burp escapes before you can stop it, echoing through the apartment. You blink, a little taken aback. You hear a chuckle from the other room, your flatmate.

“Sounded like that one hit the spot.” They yell back.

You glare in their direction, too full to come up with a proper retort. “It was... fine,” you grumble. But the words come out softer, your eyes already drooping.

You flop down on the couch settled in, trying to figure out whether you feel satisfied enough. You do feel a growing awareness of your fullness creeping in with every lazy thrum from your stomach. You don’t notice your roommate entering until they speak. 

“All tuckered out after one little snack?” they tease, folding their arms as they glance pointedly at your stomach, which lets out a loud glorp.

You flushed. Even if the prey wasn’t as substantial as you would have preferred, it’s still a whole person. That’s a lot of food, of course you might get a little tired. 

“I’m just resting.”

“Need anything before you pass out?” your roommate asks, grinning. “A blanket, or some antacids? Maybe a nice belly rub?”

You scowl at the suggestion, “I need you to leave me alone so I can digest in peace.”

They laugh, holding up their hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap~” they say before exiting the room.

You yawn and poke at your belly, suddenly bored. You think about asking your roommate if you can play games on their phone, but you just asked them to leave a moment ago. So you lie there, listening to your stomach have a go at your dinner, while your dinner weakly fights back. You watch your skin move, with the squirming going on underneath. You tap your feet together. Not much to do after you’ve eaten. 

[plaidpajamallama]

(You scared me) RHEA RIPLEY X JEY USO

Chapter 12

________________________________________________

She heard the car honk, I’m coming! She yelled, grabbing her bags.

She walked out of her house, locking the door.

Damian popped the truck so she could put her stuff in it.

She hoped in the passenger seat. Hey, how you doing, she said, buckling her seat belt.

I’m good, you ready.

Yeah, let’s go.

He pulled out of her driveway, setting sail.

Anything new with you? He looked over at her.

I got something to tell you.

What should I be worried about? Do I have to fight someone?

No, you know how me and Jey have been hanging out more and we have been talking and stuff.

Yeah

Well, we’re together and I wanted to tell you

Oh, really, I’m so surprised, he said in a sarcastic voice.

She hit him in the arm. I hate you.

In all seriousness, I’m happy for you. I know he makes you happy.

He does; doesn’t she smiled

So how long did you wait till you decided to tell me?

Just umm, she thought about how long it’s been.

Since last Monday, oh no, the Monday before that, when I was with Tiffy, she rolled her eyes.

It’s been like a week. Your now just telling me

You have been in New York. What did you want me to do? Tell you on the phone.

Your right, hang on; we're going to make one more stop.

Alright, she gave him a look.

He pulled in a driveway; she didn’t recognize it.

What are we doing?

Just wait your see as he said that he opened the trunk.

She looked behind her, seeing Kayden!

Oh, hey Kayden, you riding with us.

Hell yeah, she tossed her bags in the truck, slamming it close before jumping in the backseat.

So how are you doing? Rhea Haven’t seen you in a minute.

I’m good just working hard

You gonna tell her He looked at her with a grin.

She rolled her eyes.

Tell me what? What happened

You know how me and Jey have been hanging out.

Yeah

Well, we’re together now.

Oh shit, really good for you. He’s a nice guy.

I know right, he’s great.

How long have you guys been going out?

Like a couple Mondays ago when I tagged with Tiffy.

Oh, so it’s like a new

Yeah, but I know him for a while.

That’s true, so tell me everything.

Ok, so Damian cut her off before she could even start.

Ay, I don’t want to hear all that you can tell her later when I’m not here.

Fine, she turned back around. I’ll tell you later.

After a couple hours on the road, they pulled in to a gas station. Her and Kayden went inside to use the bathroom and get some snacks while Damian got the gas.

When they walked back out, Damian was done pumping the gas.

You still good to go or you need a break, she asked.

I’m a little tired, but I can still drive.

Me or Rhea can drive for a bit if you want.

Ha, you can drive, Rhea, not allowed to.

She sucked her teeth. Get in the back, old man. Let’s go.

Your just rushing so you can see Jey.

And so what if I am? She said, getting back in her seat.

Damian hoped in the back while Kayden got in the driver seat.

And they got back on the road. After a few minutes, Rhea looked in the back to check on Damian, and he was asleep.

She hit Kayden on the arm, getting her attention.

Hey Damian, asleep.

Okay, you want to tell me about you and Jey now and how all that happened.

I mean, he’s been chasing me for a while now, like back when I was still with Dom.

Saying his name left a bad taste in her mouth.

Did you like him then?

No, but after everything with Dom, he was there for me; you know, he made me feel better.

Especially after Bad Blood, I was a mess.

I mean, I called him in the middle of the night crying, and he came over to make me feel better.

For him to do that, he must really care about you.

Yeah, she smiled; she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Jey just put a smile on her face.

How does Damian feel about all this?

They had bumps in the road, but now they’re cool. Damian said he liked him.

You know Jey helped us out a little with the judgment day, so I think he got some points with him there, plus he can see how much Jey cares for me.

I don’t think I ever saw you so smitten.

You think I’m smitten

Girl, you are the definition of smitten. I have seen you check your phone every minute to see if he texted you.

She scoffed I haven’t seen him since before he left for Europe. I miss him.

I bet he misses you too

Oh yeah, he was acting crazy the other night.

She chuckled What he does

He said if I show him mine, he’ll show me his.

Oh, that’s why you're checking your phone so much; he missed you bad, huh?

She laughed. Here you go.

No wonder you can’t wait to see him trying to catch a Yeetdown! she laughed

Oh my god, shhh, your going to wake up Damian.

I hope you have fun. I’ll be sitting in my bed all alone watching TV and eating food I shouldn't.

I wish I could eat food I shouldn't.

Well, you're doing something much better. She said, giving her a look.

She walked in to their hotel room.

Jey was sitting on the bed watching TV.

Hey, babe, How have you been?

He looked her up and down before turning the TV off. I’m good; better your here now.

She dropped her bag on the floor, walking over to him, standing in front of him. I missed you.

I missed you too he grabbed her hips, pulling her closer.

Mmh, she sat down, straddling him. How much did you miss me?

Oh, a whole lot, he flipped her over so he was on top.

She grabbed at his shirt showed me how much

He grinned, taking off his shirt.

She took off hers too, revealing a royal blue bra.

It didn’t take long for them to get their pants off, revealing she was wearing a royal blue set.

He took a moment just looking at her in all her beauty, her long legs covered in tattoos.

Her waist, her hair sitting perfectly on her shoulder, and god did she look stunning in blue.

He kissed her, unhooking her bra as he did so.

Tossing it to the side

His hands moved down to her hips.

She lifted her hips so he could take off her underwear. He looked at her, taking in all of her

Fuck baby, he said as he kissed his way down her body.

________________________________________________

It’s been a couple hours since the sun has set.

Rhea was lying down on Jey’s chest.

Both are still in bliss over what just happened.

It had been awhile since she had sex, and that was god; she couldn’t put it into words.

Jey was petting her head.

I told Damian about us today.

How did he take it?

He’s happy for us. He did say he knew before I told him.

he chuckled I bet he did.

I also told Kayden she rode with us; is that okay?

He gave her a look. Yeah girl, tell all your friends about me shit; I don’t care.

Ok, I was just asking; she laughed. Are you excited for Raw tomorrow?

Mmm, I got a segment scheduled with Jimmy, so

Oh, you do? You are going to try to make things better.

I don’t know. I’ll see what he says. I’m not ready to forgive him one hundred percent yet, but I’m willing to try.

Well, I hope all goes well tomorrow for you. All I got is a little vignette, so it will be a light day.

I’m going to NXT though to see all the new women.

I hope you have fun over there. NXT is crazy

I know that’s why it’s awesome.

I should have known your crazy ass was going that

Yes, you should have, especially now that Zaria is on there. Oh, all the women better watch their backs.

Already, I think your crazy ass needs some sleep because it’s late and I've been up since like six in the morning, so

Yeah, I’m tired too. I think that’s your fault, though she smiled.

Ay, it’s going to be the best sleep of your life. I promise you that.

Oh, it's better. She chuckled. Good night.

Good night, baby, he said, kissing the top of her head.

_________________________________________________

Happy Monjey Night Mami! Crown Jewel was….yeah

I’m need Roman to stop hating cuz the way he was looking at Jey 🖤

[hausofanya]

“i think we’ve found our first guest…”

cléo beckons the camera to follow her as she makes her way towards the first artist that catches her eye, tapping on her shoulder with a soft smile. “i thought i recognized you… say hi to the camera!”

the idol turns towards the camera with a smile of her own as she waves briefly. cléo adds on cheekily before pointing the mic towards her, “and who do i have the pleasure of speaking to tonight?”

“hi! i’m honey.b, but most people know me as honey of blackpink!” honey offers yet another charming smile, easily capturing the hearts of all the viewers watching.

“every blink and honeyboo at home must be going ballistic right now… you’re the first person i get to interview.” the two share an amused look before she continues. “and speaking of going ballistic.. i have to know what you’re wearing. you look good.”

“you know i had to go all out, cléo! my dress is from valentino who gracefully sent me this beautiful rose dress!” the camera moves from cléo to fully show off honey’s gorgeous dress as the idol continues to speak. “perks of being their brand ambassador, i guess!”

“you ‘guess’?” honey merely offers a sly shrug as cléo squints at her teasingly. “hm… i’ll let that slide this time.”

the camera shifting back to put both of them in frame, cléo continues on. “this might be just because i’m nosy, but what are three things you absolutely cannot live without?”

“hmmm… this one is hard, there are so many things i love.” cléo nods in agreement. “i would probably say my fans since i can’t exist without being the center of attention, snacks cause it’s the only way i’m gonna get through tonight, and—leaving the best to last, money. you know they do say money can't buy happiness, but my heart has to disagree.”

“diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but money is also definitely a big contender. solid answers, mhm. next, let’s hear about the most insane thing to happen to you this year. it’s been a hectic one, hasn’t it?” honey laughs as cléo beckons the camera closer as if being let in on a secret. “i’m serious! inquiring minds are wondering!”

“well, i did have dispatch come for me earlier this year claiming i was dating a man during women's history month.” cléo’s lips part in dismay as the shorter shakes her head. “of all the months they could have posted it, they really chose to do me dirty. it was quite embarrassing but i did gain some more eyes on me because of it, so i cannot completely complain.”

honey then lets out a sigh, “it’s just the paparazzi that follow me everywhere like a hawk. but it’s not something i am not used to being in blackpink.”

cléo mumbles something about degenerate people something something and honey lets out another laugh, a hand flying up to her mouth. the noirette merely sends the camera a serene smile and trudges on as if she hadn’t said a thing.

“kudos to you, truly. you deserve a vacation. but before i let you go, i’ve got just a few more questions—just like this one: how do you feel about any of the nominees? the public is dying to know.”

“i don’t wanna yuck anyones yum but there were some artists i definitely was sad to not see. i definitely think they deserved some loving, too.. 2024 has been a hard year for us all.”

cléo’s expression turns sympathetic, turning to address the camera. “a sweetheart, truly. what about the weirdest thing a fan has ever done to or for you to get your attention? fans can be so cute… until they’re not.”

honey’s expression brightens, which immediately has cléo intrigued. “what a story do i have for you, cléo! for like a few months after my hit song espresso came out, i would wake up everyday—and there would my go-to-order that i have never shared publicly on my doorstep.”

cléo balks, her brows raised in disbelief. “they found your address?”

“—and me being silly, i thought it was something cute my boyfriend was doing. but in the end it turns out i was drinking potentially poisoned coffee for a while.” honey turns to the camera as cléo just stares. “just a little friendly reminder to plug in our braincells unlike i did!”

the recanted experience seems to really stop cléo in her tracks, blinking slowly before she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind—“twins!” she then lets out a mortified laugh as honey’s own laugh comes out choked, fighting off one of her own as the host squares her shoulders.

“i guess i’m paying for our therapy bills. moving on! what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever googled? even on incognito.”

“maybe not so weird but kind of funny.. after my album, love honey, came out, i was looking it up on google to see what critics were thinking! but i guess my team didn’t do their research when naming the album cause the first thing that popped up was a very adult business if you get what i mean.”

cléo has to fully walk out of view to process the news as honey laughs again, helplessly shrugging at the camera as cléo slowly appears back into view. “maybe… i shouldn’t have asked that. oh my god… okay, next question! what’s your dream role? any role!”

“i am gonna say it. i think it is about time we bring back the early 2000s rom-coms.” a staff member can be heard adamantly agreeing before quickly covering their mouth, making the girls laugh.

“i basically lived off how to lose a guy in 10 days when i was a kid! so my dream role would definitely be like an it-girl character that everyone falls for in a rom-com, not very different my actual life though.”

“and we would all tune in, i can tell you that.” cléo points at the camera as if to say you too. “last question. anyone.. special in your life?”

“well like, legally—” cléo raises a brow already, “—my company won’t let me comment on my love life, but there were these dating rumours that i was dating a seventeen member. i think that company confirmed it, but still my lips are locked.”

“well, as long as it’s not, like. kim mingyu, i think you’ll be fine.” cléo’s grin at the camera is as menacing as it can get as laughter sounds behind her. “i’m serious! i’ve seen many a deranged tweet. i’d be scared for my life. but thank you for indulging me! you’re a saint.”

cléo smiles sweetly as honey steps away from the camera with yet another wave, waving goodbye herself as she wishes her a good rest of her night. then to the camera, she tacks on a—

“on to the next!”

you can find honey at @pinkshaus ! thanks so much for joining the event !

[bradshawburner]

You get out of here with this! Omg, you’ve hit me right in the feels and I don’t think I’ll ever recover!

An AU with Goose and Carole still alive??! The amnesia trope!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS?! Oh it has it all! And it’s so good!

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.

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