#i think i have a crush on miles teller now

[alexiroflife]

"fortunes"

crack, fluff, ft: first years

satoru gojo x reader

Synopsis: satoru walks in on you showing his students a paper fortune teller

to sum it up: no productivity occurs when you, satoru, and the students are together

WC: 1,489

Warning(s): none

“Where the hell are my students?” Satoru mumbles to himself when he makes his way to the training field and finds it completely empty. He raises a hand to his hip in thought. He thinks he told them to meet here, but not even Yuji is anywhere to be found. 

Strange.

He imagines he’s going to hear a mouthful and then some if Yaga somehow finds out about this, so the sorcerer searches everywhere for his kids; the gym, the dorms, classrooms, but still nothing. 

With his mind now completely riddled with confusion, he texts Megumi on his way to his office and, not shockingly, receives no reply. Gojo isn’t terribly shocked or worried, but a heads up if they decided to skip today would have been nice.

He throws open his office door with his face stuck in his phone when he looks up and finally locates all three of his missing students within his space. Satoru is surprised when he sees the kids crowding around your figure, which sits in his desk chair hunched over with a folded paper fortune teller in your hands. 

Itadori and Nobara lean in closer, engaged with the activity as Nobara demands to know if the fortune says anything about her becoming a model in the near future, while Itadori talks over her to beg you to do his fortune for the twentieth time. Megumi sits nearby and watches calmly.

When Satoru’s presence is made known, the four of you turn and look up at him, momentarily falling silent. You smile brightly when you see him. “Hi, Satoru! Sorry, I forgot to tell you I was visiting today.”

The white haired professor tucks his phone back into his pocket with a grin. “Baby!” he exclaims, sauntering over to you to lean down and kiss your cheek lovingly. “Stealing my students from me, I see,” he says smugly, rubbing your cheek softly with his thumb.

“She wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t twenty minutes late,” Fushiguro chimes in tiredly, and Satoru shrugs bashfully when you toss him a knowing look. 

“What can I say? I’m a busy man.”

“Gojo!” Itadori exclaims, rushing to stand from his previous “criss-cross” position on the floor at your feet. “Your wife was just showing us this cool game she said you used to play! Look, the paper shows you your future,” the pink haired teen points to the dome-shaped object clutched over your fingers and you beam, opening it back and forth proudly. 

“Ohhhh, I remember those!” Satoru exclaims quietly yet excitedly as he rests his hand on the back of his chair behind you, leaning over you to take a closer look. 

“I thought it’d be fun to show them while they waited since they’ve never made one before,” you say, handing the fortune teller to Satoru.

“And Yuji’s been hogging it this whole time,” Nobara crosses her arms and glares at the said boy angrily. “You had your fortune read at least fourteen times already.”

“Because I have to make sure I get the most accurate results!” he fumes, and the two start bickering once more.

“Man, we used to make these things all the time,” Satoru marvels. “It’s actually thanks to these fortune tellers that (Y/n) and I are even together now.”

The kids freeze, looking over at Satoru inquisitively. “Huh?” Nobara and Yuji unify, while you roll your eyes and Megumi tries to shrink away from the conversation completely, sensing incoming bullshit from a mile away. 

“Satoru, stop telling that lie,” you exhale and he looks down at you with a smirk.

“What? It’s true!” he swears.

“So it really works?” Itadori gasps, turning to his sensei with glittering eyes. Satoru only nods with a wide smile, holding up the paper in his grasp.

“Mhm. We were here at Jujutsu High, just about your age, and I had the fattest crush on the prettiest girl in school,” the blindfolded man reminisces and you groan to yourself, flushing and turning away. “We were all in a big friend group, so one day we all decided that we’d make some fortune tellers like we did when we were kids- you know, just for the fun of it. I filled one with a message saying ‘you will marry (Y/n) (L/n)’ and the rest was history.”

Nobara stares at him as if he is ridiculous, squinting her eyes and curling her lips while Yuji absorbs the entire story believingly.. “Wait… aren’t the fortunes random though? Wouldn’t that just mean that a bunch of other people got the same message that you wrote at one point?”

“And you wrote the fortune yourself,” Megumi adds. “I don’t think fortunes are supposed to work like that.”

“Well, sure, if you wanna get all technical, but it worked, didn’t it?” he beams, tossing the paper to Yuji and craning over to gather your cheeks in his hands adoringly, bringing your face to squish against his. “Now (Y/n) and I are happily married,” he coos, Nobara and Megumi practically gagging while Itadori blushes happily at the sentiment.

You grip Satoru’s wrists as he squeezes your cheeks, pouting when he presses another loud kiss to your temple. “Satoru, please, you’re gonna scare off the kids.”

“Mrs. Gojo! Make me one that says I’ll meet Megan Thee Stallion one day,” Yuji exclaims passionately, heart set on the notion that these fortunes are meant to breathe truth into manifestation.

“You pervert! Megan would never have the time to even think about meeting you,” Nobara argues.

“Not if it’s put into a fortune! You know what, I’ll do it myself!” he rushes around the office to find a new sheet of paper and slams it onto the floor, laying on his stomach to pour his intense focus into crafting a new fortune teller the way you showed them.

“If you’re gonna just write whatever you want, then put a message in there that says I’ll get famous,” she crouches beside him, and Yuji immediately shields her from his work with his forearm.

“No, go make your own! I don’t need your juju rubbing off on me and ruining my fortune’s accuracy.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“I don’t care, just don’t touch mine!”

“Will you idiots shut up?” Megumi hisses, moving to stand over them as they bicker. “It’s a piece of damn paper for kids. Give it a rest already.”

The two on the floor turn to glare boredly at the Fushiguro, putting their feud on hold to ridicule him. “And that attitude right there, Megumi, is why your fortune will tell you that you’ll end up alone with forty cats in twenty years,” Itadori deadpans and Nobara nods enthusiastically.

Megumi grits his teeth and punches the top of Itadori’s head, the boy ducking and clutching his dome. “Like hell I will! I hate cats!”

“Then why don’t you be a little more positive, hm?” Nobara grins evilly, leading Megumi to tighten his fists.

“Give me that damn piece of paper,” he demands, reaching down for Yuji’s when the said boy yells and throws his body over his sheet to keep his friends away.

Gojo chuckles, watching the scene unfold as he pulls away slowly from you, rubbing your back gently. You shake your head with a small smile, gazing up at your husband. “You started this,” you accuse, to which he laughs.

“How could I possibly have when you’re the one who showed them the fortune teller?”

“Only because you were late to training,” you raise a brow.

He gives in. “Fair enough.”

“You think they’ll make it to training today?”

“Mmmm,” Satoru thinks for a moment, watching his students fight to write their own little desires on a paper that holds no further power outside of your own conviction. “Nah. I'll give them the day. They’ve been working hard.”

You smile. “Okay,” you nod. “Just don’t let Yaga know about this.”

“If you promise to keep it a secret, we won’t have anything to worry about,” the white haired man says suavely, ducking down to meet your eyes. Though his blindfold serves as a barrier, you can feel his gaze soaking you in. 

You click your teeth with a playful smile. “Fine,” you say, and his grin widens, lips meeting yours swiftly with his hand pressed to his desk and the other still gripping the back of your seat. He kisses you once more on the corner of your mouth then pushes himself up, turning his focus back to his students.

“Alright, guys, whoever makes the most fortune tellers in the next five minutes gets to pick the place to eat tomorrow after the mission!”

You watch as further chaos ensues, papers flying and arguments rising, Satoru standing blissfully in the midst of it all. You sigh once more and prop your chin in your hand, pondering over how Satoru gets away with this behavior as a teacher so often.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Good luck to Nicolas, people are already saying nasty things about his gf . If I were an actor, I would definitely not have any social media. It must be quite strange to suddenly see your boyfriend's Instagram flooded with comments from girls expressing their desire for him and TikTok posts exclaiming "I need him so badly."

I don’t see a problem with the ‘desire’ comments as long as it’s done in a respectful, normal way. I do it myself sometimes but I know where my limits are and I do it just for fun. People tend to have celebrity crushes and considering Nicolas is the boy of the moment right now I’m not surprised about some comments. The guy is good looking and has talent. I remember when woman were going crazy over Miles Teller when he shot Armageddon and he’s a married man. Same thing with Channing Tatum when Magic Mike came out and he was also married at that time. Nicolas his girlfriend commented on instagram that she lives on the edits being made of her boyfriend and that she shows them to him, so I think that she’s already used to the desirable comments. But I do agree with the fact that people are wrong for saying nasty things about her. There is actually some really messy things going on in Twitter and TikTok regarding Nicolas and his girlfriend. A girl showed a screenshot of Nicolas messaging her and flirting with her on Raya while he allegedly was already together with his girlfriend.

i totally agree. you can have a celebrity crush and make comments without being inappropriate and crossing lines 🥴

[l13bg0tt]

@ronald-speirs tag game

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Ooooh probably somewhere in the Kananaskis region, maybe Barrier Lake. That's where my mom and I like to go paddleboarding 🫶🏻

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

I think I'll have to say how much I got my act together school-wise this year. Last school year I really struggled mentally, I was very close to dropping out. I was dealing with throwing up from my anxiety almost every day.

My favourite professor actually just recommended me for grad school which I am very proud of! (i had his class this school year lol) It has made me change up my life plans for the next couple of years but I am honoured that he thinks highly of me, so I must do it... Nothing feels as good as academic validation 😭

Favorite books?

The Long Walk by Richard Bachman (Stephen King's pseudonym) and With The Old Breed by Eugene Sledge <3

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

this is hard lol the first thing that came to mind after daydreaming about being w my special girl was piglets

Favorite thing about your culture?

Yikes... hockey..? wait no, not rn... Terry Fox perhaps?

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

Joined the fandom this year! First show was Band of Brothers.

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

So far I have only read Sledge and the start of Leckie's!! My mom got me Webster's for my birthday and it only recently came in the mail, so I'll be starting that this weekend.

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

how dare you ask me this. i suppose luz... i love him in the background of every scene but the major scenes that come to mind are "got a penny" duh, "ooooklahoma" and the way he be looking in episode 8

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I make historical war content on tiktok (huge hiatus while I attempt to get my degree lol) @506thpir and might bring some of it over here

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

ugh it used to be Woody Harrelson until he pulled some conspiracy theorist BS so I suppose Miles Teller in Whiplash (or the Spectacular Now lol)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

Unfortunately I'm not like that... I don't have one. I can actually only remember "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." - Wayne Gretzky 🤣 (no NOT Michael Scott)

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

Ich habe in der High Schule Deutsch gelernt und spreche immer noch ein bisschen. Ich versuche Spanisch für meinen Liebling zu lernen 🙈

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

omg we are nowhere near ready but if that day comes i will let you know

Three things that make you smile?

animals

my silly lil crush

people wearing cool outfits

Any nicknames you like?

cammy

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@liptonwashere @executethyself35 @mutantmanifesto @footprintsinthesxnd @ronald-speirs @malarkgirlypop @land-sh @cody-helix02 and soooo many more I forgot to edit this part before publishing the draft 😭

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Everything I could to keep my loved ones safe lol sorry boring

Favorite movie?

I'll just go with She's the Man for the sake of brevity

Do you like horror movies?

yuh but i really prefer it when they're actually decent

[blue-aconite]

I posted 5,249 times in 2022

That's 3,120 more posts than 2021!

271 posts created (5%)

4,978 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@yanna-banana

@anniesocsandgeneralstore

@jakeseresins

@skloomdumpster

@babyrooster

I tagged 2,007 of my posts in 2022

#crush - 495 posts

#glen powell - 426 posts

#robert pattinson - 293 posts

#the batman - 199 posts

#bruce wayne - 127 posts

#top gun maverick - 113 posts

#i hate him so much he’s ridiculous and i want to marry him - 109 posts

#semi feral pet bat - 105 posts

#jake hangman seresin - 93 posts

#miles teller - 91 posts

Longest Tag: 117 characters

#haven’t properly cried since 2013 but sometimes i just stare into the void when i don’t want to deal with my feelings

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

between the wolves || prologue

Summary: She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin x OC 

Authors Note: It’s finally here. Thank you to my werewolf love @anniesocsandgeneralstore for beta reading. Thank you for cheering me on, listening to me rant and being my best friend. This fic would not exist without you.

New Message

To: Sam H

“I’m sorry. I need some space. I need to breathe, to be alone. Take care. I’ll miss you.”

The last part was a lie, she thought as she stared at the screen before locking it and putting her phone away. She wouldn’t miss him. She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want. 

Cassandra leaned back against the uncomfortable seat and closed her eyes. Check-in had gone smoothly and she wasn’t set to board her flight for another thirty minutes. She double checked her boarding pass and passport when her phone went off again.

There were four messages from Sam and two from her mother, including three voicemails. She had opened neither. At the top was a new message from her father.

1 New Message

From: Dad

“Be safe. Text me when you land. I’ll deal with your mother. And Sam.”

She smiled before setting the phone on flight mode and pocketed the device. Looking up, she saw people were beginning to move, anxious to board the plane but Cassandra stayed put. There was no point in rushing. 

She might have been in the middle of one of the busiest airports in New York but she had never felt calmer. Leaving had been the right decision. 

‘Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 75B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those passengers in first class, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.’

Cassandra gathered her things and joined the queue, letting an older couple through first.

“Thank you dear. Travelling alone?” the woman smiled kindly. She reminded Cassie of her own grandmother.

“Yes ma’am. A break from everything.” she smiled. The woman patted her arm before joining her husband again. 

While settling into her seat Cassie couldn’t help but to think about what she had told the woman. A much needed break. She was aware that she was running but she didn’t know what else to do. So much of her life had been planned for her but wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore. 

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72 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#4

FE YOURE KILLING ME WITH THE GLEN CONTENT

I’m just doing my duty ma’am

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73 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

#3

not a bad thing || j.h.s

Summary: She always thought their love was special, something solid and grounding. So when he first started to withdraw, she hadn’t questioned it. She believed his excuses, never arguing or second guessing him. Because he would never hurt her. He had sworn that he never would.

Warnings: Emotional cheating/affair, angst, swear words

Word Count: 2k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Authors Note: This is for @jostystyles and her “top tracks writing challenge” 2.6k followers! Congratulations on the milestone darling! I’m sorry this is late. Thank you to my lovely betas @writercole @therebeccaw @princessmisery666 @imjess-themess @anniesocsandgeneralstore, you all made this fic so much better! 

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216 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#2

it’s to you i will always return || b.b & j.s

Summary: Missing her boys while they’re on deployment.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

Authors Note: This is for @callsign-phoenix​ 500 followers celebration! It’s a little late but it’s here now! Congratulations Soph on 500 followers! And thank you to @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ and @anniesocsandgeneralstore​ for beta’ing!

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842 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

you said you’d grow old with me || b.b

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw had been in her life since she was 16 years old. Her rock, anchor in a bad storm, shoulder to cry on. Her best friend. It felt like they had known each other forever, two pieces of a puzzle. She could talk to him about everything.

Warnings: Terminal illness, angst, no happy ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

Authors Note: This is all thanks to @imjess-themess. Blame her. Thank you @imjess-themess @writercole for reading it over for me. I wrote this in less than three hours and I spent most of them crying.

Song; you said you’d grow old with me

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1,248 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hederasgarden]

I posted 1,690 times in 2022

That's 1,690 more posts than 2021!

765 posts created (45%)

925 posts reblogged (55%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hederasgarden

@wildbornsiren

@a-reader-and-a-writer

@yespolkadotkitty

@iguana-braces

I tagged 1,317 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#is - 571 posts

#📦 - 372 posts

#my fic recs - 118 posts

#💌 - 106 posts

#⁉ - 93 posts

#rhett abbott - 71 posts

#outer range - 65 posts

#rhett abbott x you - 64 posts

#hangman x reader - 54 posts

#the gray man - 49 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#miles teller is really testing the limits of what i find attractive with the mustache in top gun and a mullet in this movie

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Bloodlust

Summary: After battle, Aemond visits your tent. 

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Rough sex, fingering, biting, knife play and PIV sex. Basically smut with feels.

A/N: Thank you @whatblogisthis216, @shootingthroughthemoon, @handoverthekawaii and @shadycloudphilosopher for their help with this!

Likes are lovely but comments and reblogs make my day!

Masterlist

The ground shakes and the distant, angry roar of a dragon deafens the camp. Even from within your tent, you recognize Vhagar’s cry.

Your husband has returned.

There is no telling his mood, it varies wildly these days as the fighting intensifies. Some days he has little time for you, pouring over maps and plans with the men he commands until the early morning hours only to leave again soon after. Other days he wants nothing more than to lose himself in the comfort of your body, working hard to make your belly swell with a child again. What he wants from you today remains to be seen but it’s best to be prepared.

You stand, drawing the attention of the small gathering of women and servants in your tent.

“Thank you all for joining me this afternoon. I think it’s time for me to retire for the day,” you announce.

They bid you goodbye quickly and you watch them slowly file outside. It’s best for everyone if they’re not present when Aemond arrives. Your husband cared little for propriety when his blood lust was high from battle. His reputation and missing eye frightened many of the ladies; you couldn’t imagine their scandalized expressions if they saw him how you did in those unrestrained moments. He had scared you once too but that was when you were young and naive. Your head was filled with rumors about his awful deeds and garish appearance.

Now you know better. There was no doubt he could be cruel and violent. You’d seen first hand how easily he crushed his enemies and those that would harm the ones he loved, though he was never unkind to you. Even in the beginning when you were nothing to one another he protected you fiercely simply because you were his. He was gentle then too, his eye always seeking yours to determine your reaction to each touch and kiss he placed on your body and for that alone you would have cherished him but over the years you'd grown to love him too.

“Princess….” You turn, surprised to find one of the newer servants watching you with an unexpectedly concerned expression. “Would you like me to remain?”

“I can handle the Prince,” you assure her with a smile. “Go. Please…”

“As you wish,” she says, dipping her head and disappearing through the flaps of the tent.

When your betrothal to Prince Aemond was announced, this was hardly how you imagined passing your days. You expected something more sedate and safe within the Red Keep but your husband liked you close. It kept him calm and focused, reminding him of what he fought for. You learned to love the freedom it gave you outside his mother’s watchful eye and the King’s lecherous one.

Your only warning before Aemond stalks through the tent flaps is a hushed greeting of, Your Highness, from the guards stationed at the entrance of your tent. He ignores them, his eye focused solely on you as he sheds pieces of his outer armor with each step. As he continues his steady approach, his sword and outer doublet fall to the floor. The last thing to be removed is his eye patch and your gaze is automatically drawn to the brilliant sapphire jewel nestled there. It frightened many but you found him handsome like this.

“My Prince,” you greet. “How was the battle? Did you-” whatever words you would say to him are cut off by his mouth on yours.

He kisses you roughly, grabbing your hip and neck possessively. Together you stumble towards the bed in the corner of the room, his hands groping your body. When your legs tangle in your skirts Aemond grasps the back of your thighs, practically throwing you on the bed in a fit of impatience.You hardly have time to recover before he’s on top of you, slender fingers ripping at the collar of your dress to bare your shoulders to him. His teeth find your neck and you groan, hips rising to press against his. He sucks at the impression he’s left in your skin as he fumbles with your dress, seeking the warmest part of your body.

It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient with your clothing and pull back. A grunt is your only warning before a dagger appears. Another woman might cower in fear at the sight but you only felt a peculiar rush of desire you had long since stopped trying to understand. Aemond was skilled with all manner of weapons and you learned about his penchant for small blades after the wedding. It was a favored bedmate for the both of you by now. You loved to watch him wield it. There was something beautiful about the way he handled it, the dagger moving between his fingers like water over stone.

In a flash your dress is split down the middle. Aemond wrenches it open with two hands, baring your upper body to his hungry gaze. The cold air washes over your heated skin and you shiver. He smirks and drags the flat of the blade over one breast and then the other until your nipples harden into peaks. He follows the cool blade with his warm tongue and you moan, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I should keep you naked all the time,” he whispers.“I could command it and you would listen, my obedient little wife.”

He doesn’t wait for your response before shifting down your body, flipping the knife easily in his hand to make quick work of the lower half of your dress. When he is done it hangs in tatters off your body along with your small clothes. He looms over you, something in his gaze both thrilling and terrifying. In moments like this, it’s not hard to believe the tales about the madness that lives within each Targaryen. Aemond looks like he could devour you whole.

“I’ve been dreaming of this warmth,” he admits, long fingers stroking the thick patch of curls at the apex of your thighs. He continues speaking, his voice smooth and hypnotic. “Of how tight and hot you’d feel around me.”

You’re wet enough that when he seeks out your bundle of nerves his fingers slip easily over the sensitive flesh, teasing your entrance only to pull away a second later. You stare up at him, breath ragged as you wait to see what he will do. He smirks, withdrawing his hand and laying his body over yours. The weight of him presses you into the bed, spiking the molten heat that builds in your stomach

“I’d kill for you, for this,” he whispers, lips sliding over yours to cut off the gasp you make when he forces a hand between your bodies and curls two fingers possessively inside you.

You tear your lips away from his. “Aemond, please.”

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1,356 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#4

Safe With Me

Summary: Six is a hard man to read up until the moment he isn’t.

Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, violence, blood, angst, whumpage, death and some sexual content.

A/N: If this gets a good response I will write a sequel that takes place during the movie. Please note the reader has been Claire’s caretaker since her first surgery and is in her early 30s. The story is based on this ask. Thank you N and a @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta'ing and @skvatnavle for the title.

When Six comes into your lives, you’re not sure what to make of him. He’s clearly CIA-adjacent like Fitz – or some other alphabet agency– though he has none of the easy warmth of Claire's uncle. Just his quick sense of humor, but even that comes out sparingly, often startling a laugh from you. Claire takes to him quickly, poking and prodding at his cool exterior until you begin to see little cracks in it. Small glimpses of the man beneath the protector.

Once you notice the little tells, it becomes easier to catch them. Like the soft way he looks at Claire when she’s singing along to a record or the way his lips twitch up into a brief smile every time you remember his favorite pastry from the bakery. It’s apparent in the way his hand always rests at the small of your back when you’re out in public together, guiding you along as Claire tugs excitedly at your arm. You see it in the way he keeps himself as a buffer between the two of you and other people.

It’s how you know his nightly check-in at bedtime isn't just about following security protocol. Seeing you both safely tucked into bed for the night seems to ease some of the tension he carries. Most times the two of you don’t speak, he just pokes his head in and nods, giving you that awkward little grimace he probably thinks is a smile. Claire is another story, you can normally hear her excited little voice asking Six a hundred different questions that he patiently answers.

Tonight you’re in bed early, a warm cup of tea and a book in your hand. You thumb through the pages while you wait for him to come say good night, unable to rest until this part of your routine is complete. The clock on your bedside ticks steadily forward until it’s 9:05. Six is always prompt and when he doesn't show you grow concerned, venturing out to find him. You don’t make it far before a gloved hand covers your mouth and an arm snakes around your stomach. You’re pulled back against a solid wall of muscle.

“Tell us where the girl is,” comes the gravelly demand.

In your panicked state you thrash around, jerking your head back. Pain explodes along your skull and the man groans, releasing you. When you look back, you see blood pouring from his broken nose. You scramble away from him and scream for Six but the man catches you quickly. He forces you on your back and your head snaps to the side with the force of the first blow. You lay there stunned, with the taste of pennies in your mouth. You've never been hit before or purposely hurt like this and the ugly surprise of it is almost worse than the pain.

Tears well up and you breathe in wetly, blood escaping from your split lip down your chin. The man stares at you and even though the mask hides most of his face the anger in his gaze is unmistakable. Before you can recover he hauls you to your feet and throws you roughly against the wall, demanding you take him to Claire.

"No," you croak. He strikes you a second time and you flinch. God you hope Claire made it to the panic room. The thought of this man touching her makes your stomach roll. You close your eyes when he asks you again, waiting for another blow to come but nothing happens. When you hear the audible click of a gun’s safety your eyes shoot open. The man in front of you freezes.

He’s quick to recover, turning around and bringing you in front of him as a shield. You blink rapidly to clear your tears, relief surging through your body at the sight of Six. He looks a little worse for wear, a wound on his arm bleeding sluggishly and a gash on his side. To your surprise, he doesn’t address the man but looks right at you.

“You alright?” He asks.

You're not, but you nod anyway.

“Where’s the girl? Take me to her or I’ll kill this one,” the man demands, pressing a knife to your throat.

You whimper and Six’s lips thin, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Still, he doesn’t look at the man, speaking to you again. “Did he do that to you?” Six asks, motioning to your face.

“Yes.”

“Take me to the girl,” the man growls.

You jerk in his arms when you feel the blade split the skin of your throat. Six takes a step forward but stills, watching you for a long moment before he shifts his attention to the man behind you.

“I want you to know. I was going to leave one of you alive. The CIA loves to interrogate you assholes… but you touched her. That was a mistake,” he says, his voice cold and even. When he speaks again he’s still watching the man though you know he’s addressing you. “Close your eyes.”

You squeeze them shut, holding your breath. There’s no hiding what Six means to do and even though you know it’s coming you still flinch at the sound of the gun and the hollow thump of the man’s body hitting the floor behind you. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel Six’s touch on the side of your neck.

At his coaxing, your eyes flutter open, and you stare at his bloodied face. You can’t stop your hands from shaking and when your lips part no sound comes out. Some part of you knows you’re in shock, but you can’t make your body cooperate. It’s a struggle to breathe.

“It’s alright, take a breath,” Six instructs, cradling the uninjured side of your face in his hand. You inhale through your nose as he continues to watch you, nodding encouragingly until you're breathing normally.

"Six," you whisper, grasping his shirt.

“How are you doing, hen?” He questions, the use of his terrible nickname for you startling a laugh from you. Mother hen. For the way you tended to follow Claire around the house, fussing over her even when she tried to wave you off. “Should we go check on our little chick?” He asks.

“Where is she? Did they-” you start.

Six is quick to reassure you. “She went straight to the safe room just like I taught her. She’s okay,” he promises.

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1,490 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

#3

Flirting For Dummies - Part 1

Summary: Turns out the crush you have on one of the pilots that frequents the Hard Deck isn’t quite so unrequited. You’re just bad at recognizing when someone’s flirting with you. Good thing Jake’s happy to help you understand how interested he really is. 

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Rating: General. The second part will include explicit sexual content and be 18+ only. This part features Hangman being a cocky little shit, a shy reader (inspired by @thewhiskersonkittens​​​ post asking for Jake with a shy reader), a misunderstanding and some kissing. 

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: This is my first of hopefully many Top Gun fics. Please let me know if you enjoy this. Reblogs and comments feed the muse. 

The pencil is clutched firmly between your teeth as you highlight another important passage in your book. It’s still early enough that the background sound from the bar is at a steady hum instead of the loud, chaotic energy you know it’ll morph into soon. The golden hours between lunch and the evening rush are the best time to study at the Hard Deck, it’s less stuffy than the library or the studio apartment you rent, plus you get free fries here. That’s hard to beat.

“Almost done?” One of the other bartenders, Becky, asks as she passes by you on her way to the kitchen. 

“Almost,” you respond. Technically there are two more chapters you need to read but with only 15 minutes until your shift starts there’s no chance you can make that happen. You don’t really care anyway, you’re tired of studying. What you need is a break, something more than sitting alone on your couch watching true crime documentaries with a pint of ice cream. 

With a defeated sigh you close your book and lean back to stretch, letting out a startled little gasp when you realize the seat beside you is no longer empty, but taken up by the handsome pilot who you’ve spent entirely too much time thinking about. He’s become a regular at the bar over the last few months, coming in like clockwork on Thursdays and Fridays. Sometimes he’s alone, just ordering dinner and a drink though mostly he comes in with a group of other people wearing the same service khakis to play pool.

You don't know his actual name, just his call sign - Hangman. He's friendly, tipping generously and has a habit of winking at you when you dropped off his drinks. That made you incredibly nervous even if you did like it. You know it doesn’t mean anything… He’s charming to all the bartenders, even succeeding in making the unflappable Becky blush once.

Penny warned you the pilots were the worst of the bunch but the others didn’t make you nearly as nervous as Hangman did. You liked watching him from afar, aware of how his type operated. They didn’t go for girls like you. You weren’t pretty like Becky or funny like Janet, the other bartender you often worked with. 

Having his full attention focused on you throws you for a loop. “What?” You stammer, completely missing whatever he just said. 

“I asked what you are reading about?” Hangman repeats, leaning into your space to see the title of your textbook. 

He’s so close that you can smell his cologne, a potent mix of sandalwood and a sweet citrusy undercurrent. When your mouth opens to respond all that escapes is a uhhhh sound. He smirks, pressing into your space and laying his arm along the back of the bar stool. You meet his beautiful green eyes for just a second before you clear your throat and look away. 

“Coastal Ecology,” you finally manage to force out. 

“You’ll have to speak up sweetheart,” Hangman says, tapping on the wooden bar. “It’s loud in here.” 

It’s actually not but he still leans in and warmth sweeps up your chest into your throat. You hate the way the stupid pet name makes your stomach swoop. Normally you despise all the honey, baby, or darlins you get from the men at the bar, but there is something in the way he says it that’s different. You want him to call you that and mean it, even though you know he never would. 

“I’m studying coastal ecology,” you repeat, turning to look at him fully, buoyed by a brief swell of confidence.

“Smart girl, huh?” He asks, grinning. You sit up straighter at his praise. “Why are you doing it at a bar? Hoping for some attention?” 

His words curdle that pleasantly warm feeling in your chest. ​​

“I work here,” you defend, sliding off the bar stool to put distance between the two of you. “I’m in grad school and the owner lets me study before my shift.” 

The urge to continue and over-explain is hard to resist. You owe him nothing so cut yourself off and focus on putting your things away, but when you reach for your book he rests his hand on it to stop you from taking it. You stare at the large ring he wears on one finger, not wanting to meet his gaze. After a moment he sighs and draws his hand back. You spot an annoyed, almost confused look on his face, which quickly dissipates replaced by a bland smile. 

“Ok then. Guess we’ll take a round of beers. Over at the pool tables,” he says, stepping back.

It’s not your shift for another 10 minutes so you pass on the order to Becky and go hide in the back office until you need to clock in. Despite your best efforts you somehow find yourself looking over to the pool table and meeting the blonde man’s eyes. He doesn’t smirk like you expect. There’s a little furrow between his brows instead. 

"He's hot," Becky says, coming to lean against the bar next to you while you slice up a lime. “Probably a jackass but he’d show you a good time.”

"What?" You ask, embarrassed to be caught looking.

"Mr. Tall Blonde and Built," she indicates, pointing to Hangman. "All pilots are cocky, especially that bunch.”

"Bob is sweet," you defend, thinking of the timid but endearing pilot who always stammers his way through talking to Janet and you. 

"Bob is an outlier and if he wasn't so into Janet I'd love to take him home and sit on that pretty face. He looks like he’d be so eager. Like one of those golden retriever types.” She sighs wistfully. 

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1,653 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

#2

Night Drive

Summary: Your reunion with Rooster gets interrupted by Hangman. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Word Count: 867

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Semi public oral sex (m receiving), discussions of threesome, cum swapping and dirty talk.

A/N: Thank you @whatblogisthis216 @therebeccaw and @wildbornsiren for looking this over. I have been away for a while and had anxious moment about my writing skills. Thanks guys!

Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed! Your support keeps me writing.

Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist

It’s dark on the beach, the stars above bright and beautiful with the ocean waves crashing against the shore, but you don’t see or hear any of that. Your face is pressed firmly against Rooster’s hard, tanned stomach and his soft grunts fill your ears.

“Fuck,” he sighs, hands on the back of your head keeping you in place.

You moan in response, trying to breathe around his thick length as you suck on his cock. Giving him a blow job in the front seat of his bronco isn’t the brightest idea, but you’re parked in a quiet and secluded spot. Here Rooster can be as loud as he wants and there’s no danger of someone overhearing the wet, sloppy sounds you’re making.

God, you’ve missed him. He’s been gone on a mission for weeks and the familiar taste of his skin and cum are enough to have you wet and achy.

“Couldn’t wait to get home, huh?” A voice asks, startling you both.

It’s Hangman, his southern drawl unmistakable. If you weren’t so preoccupied with swallowing all of Rooster, you might have told him to fuck off. You ignore him, bobbing your head.

“Like you’d deny her,” Rooster retorts, panting, squeezing and rubbing the back of your neck.

You can see Hangman’s feet shuffle closer and he whistles, bending down until his face is level with yours. He drags his fingertips along the curve of your jaw.

“Can’t blame you, Rooster. She looks real pretty like this with those tears and that eager little tongue.”

You can tell your boyfriend is getting ready for a quippy retort so you hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue. He swears, groaning deeply. Hangman’s eyes are still on you and it emboldens you. The hand on your head twitches and you continue to work Rooster over, more enthusiastically than before. Just when you feel his heavy balls draw up against your lips you pull off him.

Sitting up with a smile, you ignore the wrecked sound Rooster makes in response. His thigh trembles below the hand you rest there, letting you know just how needy he is. “Sweetheart,” he whines, trying to guide you back to his cock.

“This isn’t a free show. It’s going to cost you,” you tell Hangman, ignoring your boyfriend.

“Oh darlin, you know I’m good for it,” he boasts, using his thumb to wipe the spit on your mouth. He maintains eye contact as he slowly licks his finger clean. The skin around his eyes crinkle and he gives you a smug look.

“What did you have in mind?” You ask him, dropping your hand to Rooster’s lap to lazily stroke him. His desperate little grunt has you slowing your motion, teasing him further. Hangman’s gaze follows the movement, seemingly entranced.

“Paris is nice this time of year,” he says finally, grinning when Rooster bucks into your hand.

“Here?” you ask, doubtfully.

“No, at home,” Hangman tells you. “Unlike Rooster, I don’t like people looking at what’s mine.”

You roll your eyes, but shake his offered hand. Like you were going to say no to a night between your favorite men.

“Great. We have a deal. Now shut the fuck up,” Rooster dismisses, grasping the back of your neck to draw you back down to his aching cock. “Can’t you see the lady’s busy?”

You start again by teasing the head of his cock, tonguing at his slit while you twist his length in your hand. He’s achingly close and normally you’d let him come down your throat but tonight you have something else in mind. You keep just the tip between your lips, sucking and teasing him until he lifts his hips and fills your mouth with his hot, salty spend. You swallow some, savoring the taste and moaning deeply. Then you rise up on your knees and beckon Hangman closer.

He seems aware of your plan, licking his lips before kissing you deeply. You open your mouth to share Rooster’s taste with him, loving how your tongues tangle together, and Hangman swallows without hesitation. He rubs your arms and continues to kiss you until air becomes necessary and you pull away.

“Well shit, honey,” he begins, reaching down to adjust himself. “That was fucking something. I think you sucked Rooster’s brains out.”

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1,744 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Lesson in Patience

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to try something new.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Ratings: Explicit, 18+ only. Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, teasing/edging, and cockwarming. 

A/N: This is smutty with a little fluff sprinkled in. Written in response to this ask. Reblogs and comments fuel the muse. 

The Navy’s intense demands on Rooster meant your time with him could be limited. Often sex was quick and dirty, each of you desperate for the other. Half the time you didn't even make it to the bed. He'd ruck up your skirt and take you over the couch. Other times you fucked on the floor, but that usually came with a wisecrack about his bad knee after. 

Tonight is different. You’re enjoying an uninterrupted weekend together. Saturday morning you stroll through the farmers market and pick out food to make dinner at home. In the middle of cooking Rooster pulls you into his arms when an old Elvis song crackles across the speaker. He sways your bodies back and forth as he sings along barefoot with you in the kitchen. You get so distracted, laughing and belting out the lyrics that dinner nearly burns. Everything feels hazy and soft, a rare moment of true domesticity. You love every second of it. 

Now you're curled up on the couch together to watch a movie. After the opening credits Rooster's hand begins to creep up your thigh. You glance over at him, expecting to find him watching you, but instead he's staring straight ahead, seemingly engrossed in the movie. Slowly his fingers inch higher and higher until they're urging you to spread your legs wide enough for him to caress your clothed core. His touch is teasing and light, escalating only to recede a moment later. He continues his lazy campaign and it grows increasingly more difficult to concentrate on the movie. He's still pretending to watch it, exploring you unhurriedly though you see the way his lips are parted to take shallow breaths.

When he finally pushes aside your underwear to touch your bare skin, you drop your head back with a soft exhale. Your eyes close and you tune out the movie, concentrating on how his fingers gather the wetness there and spread it around. One teases your entrance as another rubs that little bundle of nerves.

By the halfway mark of the movie, he’s moved to the floor, curling two fingers inside you and sucking your clit. Rooster loves to make you come like this, eating you out in such a loud, messy way that would embarrass you if you weren’t so into it. When he finally helps push you over the edge you fall into an orgasm so intense you’re almost crushing his head between your thighs. He works you through it, each pass of his tongue across your bud sending a sharp aftershock through your nerves. Finally, it becomes too much and you push at his head, begging him to stop.

Rooster grins up at you, smoothing his mustache back into place with his thumb and forefinger.  "Love that you beg me before and after," he says. "Does things for my ego.”

“You’re a pilot. I don’t think your ego can stand to get any bigger,” you tease. 

“Something’s got a little bigger,” he whispers, rolling back on his heels and standing in one smooth motion. 

You bite your lip and stare at the obvious tent in his gray sweatpants. 

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” you suggest, standing. 

“I wanna try something new,” he tells you. 

Curious, you watch him undress and take a seat back on the couch. He beckons you forward with a wave. 

“This isn’t something new."

“Give me a minute,” he replies, hands framing your waist as you straddle him.

Reaching below to grasp his cock, you give him a firm stroke that has him bucking into your hand with a groan. You grin and you sink down slowly. You’ll never get tired of this, the way he stretches and fills you perfectly. A roll of your hips is all it takes for him to make that low sound you love. Before you can do it again he stills your body with a firm grip. His fingers flex against your skin and he shakes his head.

“Don’t move.”

“What are you-”

“Shh,” he says, pressing a finger to your lips. “I just want to be inside you. Feels nice, doesn’t it?” 

Even though it does feel good there’s an itch at the base of your spine –an overwhelming need to move. You try to lift up, but Rooster keeps you still by sliding his arms around your back to hold you to him. Sometimes you forget how strong he is, that all his training isn’t just to fly planes. 

“You’re not going anywhere until I let you,” he warns with a smile.

You’re completely at his mercy and that makes your whole body throb with need. 

“Relax,” Rooster encourages, trailing his fingertips down your spine lightly. 

He kisses the skin of your chest and turns to rest his head there, nuzzling your breast. When the tension bleeds out of his body you realize he’s not going to move so you might as well get comfortable. You curl an arm around his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair with the other. Eventually you lay your cheek against the top of his head and breathe out. 

Minutes tick past with neither of you speaking, just soaking up the feel of the other. His hold loosens by a fraction. Sensing a moment of weakness you cautiously try to rise up on your knees again but don’t get far. Rooster is quick to deliver a harsh slap to your ass in warning.

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1,907 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[bradleysbradshaws]

I am very (Y/N) about Rooster now. I really do see him exactly as the Reader x Rooster Miles Teller TikTok fangirl people do (gorgeous, strong, and golden in the sun), but, like...I want him with a pussy...and I want to be his daddy. And that is a very unique, niche energy that I can bring to Roosmav .

Obviously, the fandom stuff is still very difficult for me to navigate, but loving Rooster has made some everyday things like driving more enjoyable for me to do. I do put on Sam Hunt, Brantley Gilbert, Keith Urban (lol), country music in general - he has revived my love and appreciation for the American experience - and just wistfully daydream about my beautiful boy. I don't really feel bad about this because there are plenty (most) of the people in the Roosmav fandom who live out their crushes on Maverick/Tom Cruise through Rooster - and I love that for them, sincerely! - but I have a crush on Rooster, and I want to live out my gross dreams about him through Maverick.

And I do imagine this guy. The guy who I fell in love with from Top Gun: Maverick. I respect all other versions of Miles Teller, but I honestly don't feel too bad for specifically loving the man who captured my heart from the movie I've loved since last summer. It's like, if you love Legolas from The Lord of the Rings, I don't think you need to love Orlando Bloom's Three Musketeers character, but it doesn't mean you love Legolas any less.

This Miles. With vag. Please. My erection. MY DREAM.

[theloveoftoms]

An Evening Out - Rooster Bradshaw x Reader (top gun: maverick)

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, aka your boyfriend, has a surprise date for you!

A/N: yep, ive fallen for miles teller. I can add him to the list of men who are substantially older than me that I would l o v e to be with. and oh my gosh, he was so gorgeous as rooster in top gun: maverick. So, I present to you, this quick and easy rooster x reader fic. I'm going to go watch tg:m again this week, so I'll get a better idea of their personality and characteristics for future stories! Also, I hope this isn't too romantic in a shallow type of way, all ive been reading lately is tough stories about loss and unsuitable romance partners, so I wanted to write something sweet to fill my mind :) also, I didn't proof read this as much as I normally would, so enjoy my chaotic world of words that I've concocted. Thanks for reading my stories! I LOVE YOU - Mac xx

"Hey," Rooster says with notes of apology caressing through his voice, closing the car door and running around to your side of the street, "I'm sorry I was late."

You date was set to begin well over 10 minutes ago when your boyfriend rooster was supposed to pick you up. You had called, texted, and received nothing in reply, so you had decided to sit on your porch and wait a little while longer, until the sun was set beyond the horizon, or you heard from rooster, whichever came first.

You walked down the stairs slowly, without saying anything, until you were standing directly across from your boyfriend. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, a smile written across your face.

Rooster put his hand on your shoulder, you could feel the warmth of it radiating through the sleeve of your blouse. His brandy eyes were gazing deeply into yours, god how involve the two of you were. "There was a big accident blocking the freeway, and you know that people don't know how to merge here."

A chuckle escaped your lips and you stretched up on your tip-toes and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. You felt rooster's arms wrap around your waist as he leant down to properly kiss you. The kiss was long and subtle and it made you feel untroubled and content with the world.

After the kiss had finished, you stood, still grinning, "Its alright. These things happen sometimes."

"I'm just glad you're here," you said.

"Since we've missed the reservation, what do you say we go to the beach instead?" Rooster asked you, sliding his arm around your waist.

"That sounds perfect!"

You hopped in Rooster's car, which was a vintage convertible that had belonged to his parents. The car was a gorgeous shade of deep merlot. It had contemporary beige seats that extended all the way through the car, and a radio that only played 60's music. It needed some work, but its flaws is what made it admirable, and its memories is what made rooster cherish it even more.

So, the two of you drove, in the shades of the late night sun along the coast, the wind in your hair, not a care in the world, blasting frankie Valli. The beaches were all busy, and there wasn't a parking spot to be found, so rooster took a drive onto the base, which wasn't too much further, through the gates, until the two of you were at generals beach.

There was the occasional person or couple walking on the sand, but everyone seemed to be further along the coast, meaning that the beach would be practically empty just for you and your boyfriend to relax upon.

As you climbed out of the car, rooster was busy collecting something he had put in the trunk. When he came around the front, you found that he was carrying one of his navy hoodies with the top gun logo on it, and a paper bag from the farmers market.

"What is all of this?" you asked happily.

"Surprise," he said, "now lets go find a spot before the sun sets."

You laughed, slipping your arm around his waist, "I don't think we'll have much trouble with that."

The two of you walked up close to the water, and set down your things in a spot just far enough away that it wouldn't be damaged by the waves.

You took a seat beside rooster, who was busy laying down a towel, unpacking the contents of the brown paper bag.

He pulled out a container of finger sandwiches, a small carton of juicy red strawberries, and a small clear container of popcorn.

"Rooster!" you exclaimed, "Did you plan all of this?"

He pulled out a bottle of expensive looking champagne, and two flute glasses, and smirked "Do you think I ride around with this stuff in my car all the time?"

You laughed, "This was such a great surprise!"

The two of you ate your sandwiches, you enjoyed your cucumber ones, and rooster who couldn't stand them, enjoyed his ham and cheese ones. You fed each other strawberries, and then laughed over how cliche it was, all while watching the sun setting.

The rays of tangerine were cast upon the two of you, who were sitting peacefully in the sun, pleased with the world.

"God," you sighed to your boyfriend, "You always make everything so good for me. Too good!"

Rooster looked over to you with something more than love written across his eyes, "I like to try to y/n. You've been there for me through it all."

You flopped back, laying down in the sand, "You're so perfect it physically hurts."

[7seas-of-ryy]

Sunshine

Author’s Note: This man has a choke hold on my life right now, younger me is screaming that my Miles Teller crush is back :)

Summary: You’re shy but luckily Rooster’s not! Combine that with one scheming Penny and something is bound to happen!

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

Warnings: None :)

You wiped down the bar and cleaned some glasses next to Penny. Closing the bar was the calmest part of the night and you enjoyed the peace. Penny was best friends with your mom and she was just like an aunt to you. You loved her and how outgoing she was. In fact, you wished you could be just like her. You were painfully shy and nothing made it easier for you to talk...except maybe a little alcohol. Your shyness is actually what put you in this situation right now.

Your mom didn’t know how to get you out of your shell. Penny came up with the great idea of having you move in with her and work at The Hard Deck along side her. You were terrified to say the least. Moving to another state AND working at a bar?! But you agreed to please your mom and that is how you ended up here, cleaning glasses. 

“You know, there’s a lot of handsome men that come in and out of this bar. And a lot of those men would love to take you home one night, if you let them.” Penny smirked at you, knowing the idea of a one night stand would make you flustered. You stared at her, wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

“In fact, I think you caught the eye of a certain Lieutenant that has a pretty impressive mustache.”

If you thought your cheeks were red before, you were a full tomato now. 

“I don’t know what you mean, he’s only ever said a few words to me before.” You had a huge crush on the tall airman they called Rooster. You were also 99.9% sure he had no idea you existed. 

“Honey, that man stares at you like you’re the only one in this room. I think he was undressing you with his eyes for over half the night tonight.” She laughed.

You shook your head and even though you tried not to, smiled slightly. The idea of that man finding you attractive was not even a possibility in your mind. You figured Penny was just saying this to get you to talk to him and leave your comfort zone. You heard her sigh.

“y/n, I know you don’t think that you’re beautiful, and funny, and amazing, and smart but you are. I watch you serve people drinks and even through your shyness, your smile is bright. You light up the room and you need to believe all of this because its true.” She rubbed your cheek like a mother would.

“Thank you Pen” You softly spoke to her and she responded with a bright smile.

You both grabbed your stuff and headed home. Penny’s words stuck with you and you decided that tomorrow you would wear something different. Something out of your comfort zone. You normally wore jeans and a crewneck or sweater and put your hair into a bun. You went to sleep knowing that tomorrow you would pick out something that showed some more skin.

You woke up and decided on wearing some black denim shorts, your white converse, and a baby blue top that did little to cover your chest. You were showing a nice amount of cleavage and a lot of legs. You let your hair down and put on a small amount of makeup. You walked down to meet Penny and Amelia for breakfast before heading to work.

Penny and Amelia stopped what they were doing and their jaws dropped.

“You look HOT!” Amelia basically yelled while Penny shook her head in agreement. You laughed and ate your breakfast. You and Penny headed down to the bar eventually and started getting it ready for customers.

The bar hadn’t opened yet when Maverick walked in. He was always so kind to you and you enjoyed his company. I know Penny did too ;) He walked over to you two and did a double take.

“y/n?! Is that you???” He joked and Penny laughed. You started to blush not realizing the amount of attention you would get just from changing your clothes and letting your hair down.

“You look beautiful! You actually look more like yourself I think. This look suits you.” Pete complimented you. You felt like all you were saying today was thank you.  He switched his attention to Penny and they started flirting. You smiled at them and kept on getting the bar ready. Eventually it was time to open and the aviators would start pouring in. 

You were serving shots to a group of customers when the door opened and in walked Bradley. He scanned the room and eventually landed on you. He watched you for a minute and you could feel his eyes on you the entire time.

“Hey y/n can I get a beer?” Rooster asked you. You grabbed him his beer and your hands touched as he took the beer from you. The bar top suddenly became interesting because you could not look at Rooster right now. He looked way too good and you were way too shy, despite the nice outfit you put on as a confidence boost.

“I like your outfit, blue seems to be your color” he smirked and as you looked up at him, he winked at you.

“If you get a break tonight, you should come join our group over there. I would love to talk with you more.” Bradshaw stated. You started to respond.

“I don’t know if I’ll have any time but -”Penny cut you off “She actually is about to go on break in five minutes, she’ll be right over.”

You stared at her with wide eyes and glanced over at Bradley. He smiled at you and told you he’ll be waiting for you. He walked away to his friends and you smacked Penny’s arm.

“What was that?! I can’t just go and talk to him.” You were quietly yelling at her.

She poured you a shot and then another one and looked at you expectantly.

“Take these, loosen up, and go talk to that handsome man over there. Go home with him, enjoy life, he’s clearly interested.” You just looked at her like she’d lost her mind. You took the shots and as you did, she started fixing up your hair. She gently pushed you in the direction of Rooster and as you started walking, she smacked your butt - yeah she lost her mind. You looked back at her and she just gave you a thumbs up.

You slowly made your way over to him. He sat at one of the booths next to the pool table. The others in his group were all playing pool.

“y/n! Come sit here darlin’“ Rooster gestured next to himself. You sat next to him and started feeling the alcohol a little bit. Which was good because you needed it. 

A tall blonde man made his way over to us and grabbed your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing the back of your hand. 

“Rooster, why are you keeping this pretty little thing all to yourself,” he looked at you, “Hi, I’m Jake AKA Hangman”

You smiled and said hi back and Rooster put a protective arm around your waist. 

“Go back to your game Hangman. We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Rooster’s voice got really low and Hangman raised his hands in defeat and walked away.

“Sorry about him, he can get really annoying sometimes. So, Penny has told me a lot about you” 

You couldn’t believe her! She really loved to scheme. 

You laughed and said, “I’m sure she did, what exactly did she say?” you asked curiously.

“In her defense, I asked about you. Your smile lit up this room and I couldn’t get it out of my head so I just asked her if I had permission to talk to you. And she immediately said yes”, he laughed, “and told me how funny and smart and beautiful you are. But I didn’t need her to tell me you’re beautiful. I could see that on my own” He leaned in closer as he spoke “and darlin’ let me tell you that you are very beautiful.”

You thought you were gonna melt on the spot, this man was so smooth. Before you could respond he continued.

“She also told me that you’re shy and could use someone like me to show you how to have a good time.” He brushed some hair out of your face.

You were glad you took those shots because if you were sober right now, you would probably run away.

“How exactly would you show me how to have a good time?” You questioned.

His smile grew into a smirk and he leaned in to whisper, “I could take you around and show you the beaches, take you to some stores maybe, or I could take you back to my place”

You gulped and looked at him. It’s now or never you thought.

“I like that third option a lot” You spoke as confidently as you could.

“Thats actually my favorite option” He joked with you. You both laughed and you suddenly felt at ease. Talking with him had gotten so easy all of the sudden. 

“You know, it’s actually getting pretty hot in here, do you wanna go walk the beach and then maybe head back to my place for a drink?” He spoke

“I would love that�� You both got up and headed out to the beach. 

You talked for a bit on the beach, mostly him flirting and you trying not to combust on the spot. He turned to you and put his hand on your cheek.

“I was being serious earlier, you are so gorgeous darlin’ and that smile is like sunshine shining down on me” You looked down at his lips as you both inched closer to each other. Your lips gently met and he kept his hand on your cheek and put the other on your waist. You rested yours on his chest and melted into the kiss. You both pulled away and rested your foreheads against each other.

“I know you’re not an aviator but I have the perfect call sign for you” He said

“Oh yeah, what’s that” You smiled up at him.

“Sunshine”

“I love it” you whispered

You both kept smiling at each other like teenagers in love.

“Now c’mon Sunshine, I gotta take you home and show you how to have a good time” 

[fictionalmenownmyheart]

Heads Down, Thumbs Up • miles teller

Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well. I thought I would do a quick one shot before I started making my way through the requests I have waiting to be written. If you’ve made a request, I’m sorry for the wait but hopefully it won’t be too long. This specific one shot was purely for me really, it’s something I thought of so I hope you like it, please let me know either way if you’d like, if you don’t like it then that’s purely on me and I apologise 😂.

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

Warnings: a lot of repetition of words/phrases, not a lot of Miles in this until towards the end, quite fluffy?, all mistakes will be my own if I haven’t read through it properly

Miles Teller x fem!reader

Word count: 2,428

(Y/S/N)- Your Surname

“Okay everyone, quiet down please.” When that didn’t seem to do anything, (Y/N) continued. “Or we won’t be able to play a game before the bell rings for you to go home.”

At the mention of playing a game, the chattering of little voices dimmed down until thirty pairs of eyes stared back at her giving her their full attention.

Feeling accomplished at managing to control the noise and have everyone’s attention, she smiled at everyone in turn. “Thank you. We’re going to play a game called Heads Down, Thumbs Up. Has anyone heard of it?”

Some heads nod to indicate they had heard of it before, but the majority of the class looked at her with confusion at the unknown game but nonetheless excited to find out.

“So in a minute, after I’ve explained the aim of the game, I will ask five of you to come up here before asking everyone else to put their heads down on the desks and hold their hands out like this in front of them.” (Y/N) demonstrates with her own hands, giving everyone a thumbs up with both hands. “Then the five who is stood up here will gently pinch someone’s thumb before returning to the front. Now, if your thumb gets pinched you need to put it down like this.” (Y/N) shows her hands now like fists with no sign of her thumbs sticking up in the air. She looks at everyone to see if they’re understanding everything so far before continuing on again. “This will help so no one else will make the mistake of also pinching your thumb because it shows them that you’ve already had it pinched. Then once they’ve all done that, the pinchers will come up next to me and I’ll ask everyone to open their eyes and then if your thumb has been pinched I want you to take it in turns to guess who you think it was, I hope no one does any peaking please because that’ll be cheating. If you guess right, then you will swap places but if you get it wrong, then you won’t swap and will stay where you are. Does that make sense?”

As all of the children nodded in understanding, (Y/N) clasped her hands together. “Perfect. We’ll try to do as many rounds as we can before the bell rings. Who would like to come up here first?”

Hands shot up in the air straight away. (Y/N) picked Jimmy a shy boy who had his hand up but looked unsure and hesitant about it, Alicia who sat up in her chair looking very sophisticated for a seven year old, Mohammed who stretched his hand up as far as his little arm could reach pointed up to the ceiling excitedly, Stella with a big bright smile overtaking her entire face, and Isaiah who could hardly stay in his seat from a sudden burst of energy at the prospect of being chosen.

The quintet make their way up next to (Y/N)’s desk and in front of the interactive board.

“Now, everyone else Heads Down, Thumbs Up please.”

(Y/N) watches as everyone gets in position following her instructions perfectly.

(Y/N) turns her attention to the ones next to her and ushers them silently to make their choices of who to pick.

Jimmy cautiously makes his way to Jasmine, a sweet girl that (Y/N) was sure he had a little crush on, before taking his place back up front.

Alicia is quick to choose as she strides over to a particular seat, her best friend Elle.

Mohammed with all his excitement stomps soundly to his twin, Omar and tightly squeezes his thumb drawing a hiss from Omar’s lips at the unexpected touch.

Stella looks around the classroom, choosing carefully as she taps her finger against her lip in thought before settling on an unlikely candidate, Mateo.

Isaiah takes his time too, walking around all of the tables considering everyone as an option, his eyebrows pinched in a look of pure concentration, deciding in the end on his partner in crime, Finley.

“Alright, if you had your thumb pinched, please stand up.” (Y/N) got everyone to pay attention as the five students stood up from their chairs. “Elle, why don’t you go first?”

Elle guessed right, as did Omar and Finley. Mateo and Jasmine however guessed the wrong way around which meant that Jimmy and Stella stayed standing up for the next round.

It went on like this for a few more rounds until a knock at the door interrupts everyone as they look at the closed door not knowing who to expect on the other side.

“Come in.” (Y/N) calls out, waiting to see who will appear.

“Hello Miss (Y/S/N), I hope you don’t mind me dropping in, just thought I’d stop by and watch.” (Y/N)’s colleague, Mr Larkin, spoke as his head peered around the slightly opened door. She thought he was probably making his way around all of the classrooms to do an assessment on how they were teaching, she’d have to do that herself soon so wasn’t bothered by his sudden presence.

“Of course, that’s no problem at all. Please, take a seat.” (Y/N) gestures for him to sit down. He makes his way over to one of the unoccupied desks at the back of the classroom and props himself against it.

“Thank you. Someone will be joining me shortly but please carry on.” He pulls out a notepad and pen he had in his breast pocket, opening it to a new page.

Just as (Y/N) processes Mr Larkin’s words, another voice calls out softly from one of the tables. “Miss why don’t you join in?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before deciding why not, Mr Larkin was here to supervise so she didn’t have to worry about what everyone was doing while she had her head down.

(Y/N) looks at the clock on the wall and notices there is just enough time for one more game before the bell should sound.

“That’s a good idea Francesca, because this will be the last one for today I will join in. Okay everyone; heads down, thumbs up.”

She watches as they put their heads down on the desks and follows suit herself.

Her other senses heighten while her eyes are closed as she hears the door open slowly, the door handle rattling and the hinges groan softly before the click of the door being shut again. Mr Larkin’s words run through her head, this must be who was joining him.

She could hear giggles but didn’t know what was so funny. She didn’t want to open her eyes and ruin it for everyone else playing but the noise drew her attention and made her curious as to what was so funny and why Mr Larkin didn’t say anything about it.

Guessing it was nothing important she decided to let it slip as she felt her thumb be squeezed so gently, for a moment she wondered if she had imagined it until she felt a slight breeze walk beside her.

“Is everyone ready to guess?” (Y/N) asks wanting to lift her head and understand what was going on just moments before.

Voices sound, letting her know that she can open her eyes. She looks around and sees that Mr Larkin is still at the back of the classroom, in the same position he was in before she had shut her eyes, but no sign of whoever had come into the room afterwards.

“If you had your thumb pinched, please stand up.” (Y/N) watches as five students stand at their desks. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, she was sure her thumb had been pinched but maybe she had just imagined it.

As the children take turns guessing who they think it was, (Y/N) sighs. Something must be wrong with her, maybe it was the lack of sleep or maybe she was coming down with something, but she never usually concocted imagined thoughts like this when she felt like she was coming down with something.

She even thought for a split second that it could possibly be because she was missing her boyfriend, she hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever but what was probably only a couple of months for his work. She was used to the constant silent house that greeted her when she hit home from work every day, the lonely nights with no one beside her to hold her got harder with every passing day of not seeing him.

Coming into work was the only thing keeping her somewhat sane, the children always managed to brighten her day when she felt down or suddenly thought about her boyfriend, a funny telling of a story from the weekend or a hand drawn picture made for her in squiggly shapes helped her get through it.

Coming out of her thoughts, she noticed everyone had their eyes focused on her. Not realising she was in her thoughts for so long, she cleared her throat and wondered what she had missed.

“Aren’t you going to guess, Miss (Y/S/N)?” Mohammed asks, having managed to calm down from his earlier excitement but a cheeky grin on his face was still intact.

Did they know she had also had her thumb pinched?

“I think everyone has been picked, Mohammed.” (Y/N) smiles at the boy.

“What about me?” A deep, masculine voice speaks from behind her. She turns her head and standing at the now partially ajar door is Miles, her boyfriend.

She stares, her mouth agape in surprise at him actually standing in front of her in her classroom.

She stands up on shaky legs and walks into his awaiting arms. Her arms wrap around his neck and she burrows her head into his broad chest, breathing in the scent that is all his and the fragrance she has missed having nearby.

She pulls back from clinging to him and leans into his touch as he caresses his thumbs against her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” She asks in wonder.

“I thought I’d come and surprise you.” Miles replies, a grin lighting up his face.

“Well I am definitely surprised.” She laughs, leaning her head up to touch her lips to his but a throat clearing stops her.

She turns around and realises that Mr Larkin was the one to make the noise. Thirty pairs of eyes glance up at her with a mixture of emotions; some look confused, others look grossed out by the almost kiss (mainly the boys), while a couple of the girls look on with childlike wonder at the whole situation comparing them to a real life fairytale, Miles being the prince to (Y/N)’s princess.

(Y/N) composes herself just as the bell rings. “Alright everyone let’s get our bags ready. Don’t forget your coat, water bottle or packed lunch if you have brought any of that in today. After that I want you to line up and wait for me to dismiss you one by one at the door to your parents.”

Scraping of chairs was heard as they went over to the cloakroom and retrieved their school bags along with anything else they may need to take home.

They followed (Y/N)’s instructions and queued up behind each other against the wall waiting to be allowed to go to their waiting parents outside.

(Y/N) opens the door and can already see most parents waiting for their children.

Looking around at who she recognises she calls out, “Mohammed, Omar, I see your mum.”

The boys race out of the door and over to their mum right away and begin talking her ear of as they start walking off.

She definitely has her hands full, (Y/N) thinks as she watches them disappear. Coming back to her senses she turns to everyone else who is waiting patiently.

“Stella, I see your dad.”

“Thank you Miss (Y/S/N).” Stella says before making her way to her dad and taking ahold of his hand with her older brothers on his other side.

“Mateo, I see your abuela. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Miss.” Mateo calls out as he skips away.

It went on like this until all of the children were mostly gone. The only ones left in the classroom were herself, Miles, Mr Larkin, Jimmy and Jasmine.

“I’ll take these two with me to the taxi that’ll be waiting for them and any from the other years.” Mr Larkin points out, indicating to Jimmy and Jasmine who are the only ones left. Jimmy’s little face blushes at the attention while Jasmine is oblivious to the nervous boy beside her.

Mr Larkin makes his move to leave the room but is stopped by Miles’ hand held out, Larkin shakes his hand with a nod and leaves the room soon after

Mr Larkin smiles at the couple before making his way out, leaving (Y/N) with Miles in her suddenly silent classroom.

(Y/N) sighs, the quiet was not unwelcoming as she stood with Miles, coming to terms with the fact that. He’s. Actually. Here!

“Alone at last.” Miles teases as he comes over and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her body close to his and placing a gentle kiss against her lips.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” (Y/N) asks, hitting him on his arm.

Miles chuckles, “I wanted to surprise you and if wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” Miles looks at her pointedly.

(Y/N) groans petulantly feeling like one of her seven-year-olds at her reaction and grumbles, “You know I don’t like surprises.”

“I know baby, that’s why I did it,” he winks at the unamused look on her face, “I managed to get some time off to be with you before I have to go back to filming.”

The next day, (Y/N) is bombarded by questions about who the mysterious man was that came in yesterday. She answers the questions readily, loving their enthusiasm.

During his time back, Miles makes sure to spend as much time as possible with (Y/N) while she isn’t working.

And when it comes to the end of his time off, they’re already anticipating his return home for good when filming will finally be over in another months time.

[abluescarfonwaston]

I saw Thor so how about a despicable me au. Miles loan request is denied in his steal the moon project because Franziska stole the shrink ray he stole and Manfred declares the project too risky without the key piece secured. He's been ejected from her lair 456 times already.

And then he sees her welcome in the girl scout cookie kids and has a lightbulb.

He takes home three little kids. All holding hands- assumed they were related - is Kay, Sebastian and little Trucy. He manages to steal the ray with their help and then on the way back they demand to go to the amusement park on the boardwalk.

He plans to tuck them into the rollercoaster and leave. They'll get over it- just like he didn't. But adults must ride with kids. He passes out from sheer terror. Comes around to trucy and Kay attempting to swindle a swindler into giving Sebastian the rainbow unicorn stuffed animal of his dreams. Miles reaches up and grabs it.

"Hey no can do Mister you gotta knock them all over to win!" "She did." "Nuh uh see that one? Still standing." "... I see. Let's play again."

The shack does not have a back when they leave. Sebastian buries his entire torso in his prize. "ITS SO FLUFFY I COULD DIE!"

By the time he gets home they're all covered in face paint and either giggling or sugar comaed right to sleep.

Manfreds face twitches as Miles re presents the plan now that the key asset is in place. The trio keeps interrupting. "... Pathetic. Boy you can't even read a room. I was attempting to be gentle. Your simply no longer worth the risk. Loan denied."

Miles and kids end up at a bank glaring down on burned out bank teller Phoenix Wright for a loan to- "uh..." *Kay whispers into Miles ear* "No we are not buying you a paraglider." *Trucy whispers* "I will not have tigers in the house young lady magic or no." *Sebastian whispers* "... Yes thank you Sebastian remodel the house so they can have their own rooms."

They end up on a date. It's definitely not cause Phoenix is a member of the Evil reformation team secretly trying to suss out if Miles is a viable candidate or because Miles is extremely gay. No he just wants to copy wright's office key and approve his loan. Sure. Suuuuure Miles.

"What you gonna offer to steal the moon from the sky for me?"

"It would have made a better gift than the flowers."

"the ones you were allergic to?"

"precisely. What would have been a good date then Wright."

*Flashbacking to being strapped to a table James Bond style and having a Lazer grow ever closer.* "Not being kidnapped is nice."

"what?"

"i said if i don't end up taking a nap partway through it's nice."

At the climax Franziska has kidnapped the kids from their ballet recital (Sebastian was the only one Really into it but the fact Miles didn't show up broke their hearts all the same) and is holding them hostage while she has stolen even the moon from him and Papa loves her more and-

"STOP IGNORING ME AND UNTYING THEM ITS VERY RUDE!"

Miles spends the majority of their climatic fight trying to get the kids to safety and keep them calm. She points the electroshocker directly at him. Sebastian grabs the back of his leg, crying. Miles doesn't look away as he gently tries to push him free. "Go to Gumshoe Sebastian. Go." Manfred screams in her earpiece just to Do it already.

The moon jolts. Increasing in size. "Oh shi-" "Takee mushrooms." Miles finishes for her. Working together to return it to the sky before it crushes them all.

She slips out as the dust settles. Confused. Stands as Manfred - Papa - scolds her to hell and back. On her watch she watches Miles tuck the trio into bed. Kiss them on the head. Something he never did. For either of them.

"Are you listening to me Girl?"

"No." Tranquil as his face went red. Fury building oh so familiarly. Hand on the electroshocker whip. "I'm done listening to you I think."

Phoenix shows up the next day with a smile and "Great news! Your loan was approved!" Miles stares at him with the velvet mansion behind him. "Course you know that already since you approved it yourself!"

"..."

"So let's talk about your repayment plan!" Hands him a pamphlet on the Villain redemption initiative.

"I'm not doing this."

Course if Geff Beesos woke up in nothing but his boxers, assets raided like the Grinch had been through and millions more woke up to find their medical debt was gone - well. That could still be considered Villainous couldn't it?

[y3ager]

THE DATING EXPERIENCE.

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: high school (seniors), modern au. fluff, brief mentions of colorism, “preferences”, underage drinking and implied marijuana use. lowercase intended.

“THE BASKETBALL GAME the other night was so good, wasn’t it?” just the mention of the high energy that night has historia beaming, azure eyes gleaming in the white light of her expansive bedroom. she lounges in her hanging chair with textbooks and binders splayed out all around herself, you perch yourself on her bed, socked feet tucked underneath yourself as you flick through your own history textbook, just a couple pages left in your triweekly outline. “i thought the bleachers were gonna collapse with all our shouting and stomping!”

“yeah, it was crazy.” your eyes squint against the blue-white light radiating off the screen as your fingers blur across the keyboard of your laptop, determined to check this assignment off your to-do list.

“mhmm...” a sneaky grin crosses historia’s face immediately as she leans forward, the chair rocking a bit on its thick chain. “tell me your favorite part. and it has to be something other than what eren did.”

heat instantly crosses your face and your fingers slip up from their effortless dance, your body all out of focus at the mention of him. “oh, my god, historia!” you whine out, heat now passing down to your neck and the tips of your ears. “you make it sound like i’m obsessed with the damn boy.....”

“you might as well be! it’s all you talk about! eren this, eren that, eren, eren, eren. i’m surprised his ears haven’t caught on fire with how much you rave about him. but it’s so cute, young love!” a frown then mars her face, and she points an almond shaped nail at you in an honestly pretty funny attempt at being threatening. “i’m not gonna tell you again to ask him out. just say you wanna go to pizza rev or something. or do i have to ask him for you?”

“anything but that. what is this, elementary school? i should bust out the fortune teller while i’m at it.” the embarrassment from just a few moments ago begins to fade away as you pick back up where you left off on your assignment, the just editing 2 minutes ago in the upper left corner rapidly changing to saving.... as you resume your typing. “it’s just some dumb little crush, i’ll get over it.”

“a crush you’ve had since junior year, chemistry 1st hour.” those few words instantly bring you back to that day. you hadn’t been in the best of moods that morning; you’d fought with your hair longer than you would have liked to, your mom decided to pick a small fight with you, and last night’s sleep had been anything but restful, thanks to your hurried cramming. traffic had been backed up for miles on the highway, and you had to sprint across campus to avoid another tardy. when you sat down breathlessly at the table, seconds before the tardy bell, eren had looked up from his bell work, smiled a little bit, murmured “hey, you look nice today”, and the rest had been history.

your mildly annoyed glance complete with lips drawn into a flat line and bored eyes does nothing to deter historia’s mood, your RBF has long lost its effect for her. ignoring your dramatic eye roll, she continues. “i just don’t get it, ____. you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re super funny, i just don’t get why you’re so scared. i hope you don’t think you’d be weird for asking him out. i bet he’s into straightforward girls like that.”

yeah, you really don’t get it. you want to say, but you bite your tongue. in all honesty, you don’t expect historia, blonde haired, petite, blue eyed, epitome of the fucking beauty standard: historia, to get it. your experience in crushes, let alone dating, is something entirely unique.

does he even like black girls? it’s something you automatically consider every time you call yourself having a little crush on someone, and it’s something you’ve consider since the ripe age of 12, back in 5th grade. you’ve heard the jokes, the jabs at the lunch table. ‘she’d be prettier as a lightskin’, ‘she’s cute for a darkskin, though!’ ‘i don’t know, man, i just don’t really like black girls like that.’ it hurts more when it comes from people who look just like you.

you remember unconsciously going through your new crushes’ dating history, going as far back as you possibly could. it was easy in middle school, with how tight knit the class was, and in high school you knew your way around enough social circles to get a good idea of any interest’s “preference”.

bless historia’s heart, she’s always understanding, open, willing to lend an ear, but this is just one of the many things about you that she cannot possibly begin to understand. the traits she lists off don’t matter, and you’d rather finish the school year off with an unrequited crush you’re sure to get over eventually than grin through any “you’re not my.... type” ass rejection.

the blondie in question has been rambling on for a while now before you wave your hand, trying to chase the topic and the growing frustration away. you don’t want to get upset right now, and it’s not her fault. “do you have anything planned for your date with ymir? i can bake you guys one of those lunchbox cakes if you want.” you don’t want this to turn into some woe-is-me pity party. you don’t want historia’s sympathy, her “oh i’m sure he’s not like that!”, or her pat on the back. it’s reality, and you’ve come to terms with it. it’s another facet of being you.

you don’t miss the way historia’s face falls slightly at your blunt attempt at changing the conversation, but you push that away with everything else. she confirms that she does have a couple things in mind, a picnic being one of them, but the energy in the room has shifted. a cloud has begun to block the sunlight shining through the crystal clear bay windows.

——————

by the time you and historia arrived at house party, the celebrations were spilling out onto an expertly manicured lawn. the bass of the music thrummed deep in your chest as you two walked inside. red solo cups in hand, you flitted from clusters of friends, grinning as you greeted them with a hug or a wave. it felt good to forget about any upcoming essays or quizzes and be surrounded by people having a good time.

eventually you feel the need to take a break from the music, dancing, and shouting, slipping away to the vacant patio at the back of the house. the back awning has a bunch of those edison lights dangling from its ceiling and the sun has begun to set, painting the sky in a myriad of oranges, reds, and purples.

with a sigh, you sit down in one of the plastic lawn chairs posed on the concrete, half empty cup dangling from your fingertips as you pull out your phone. your aimless scrolling through instagram, plenty of clips of the party unfolding inside have already made their way onto several people’s stories, is interrupted by someone forcing open the sliding door.

“ah, hey.” with a charmingly crooked smile, eren greets you with a raise of his aluminum can. “you taking a break too? i can totally go somewhere else..” tendrils of dark brown hair frame his tanned face, and he’s the epitome of comfort in a plain black tee and jeans, dressed up with a simple silver chain.

“oh, no, no!” you wince internally at how loud and abrupt your response. “no,” you repeat, smiling sheepishly. “help yourself, not like i own it.” your hands begin to tremble a little bit, and the airish back porch feels like it’s heating up. eren sits down with an appreciative sigh.

“____? i haven’t really seen you since junior year.” he leans forward a bit on his spread out legs, forearms resting on his knees. the sun catches in his green eyes, and that paired with the fact that he still knows your name makes you want to swoon. “how you been?”

“yup, that’s me.” a small laugh passes by your glossed lips. “i’ve been okay, nothing to rave about.” you set your cup down next to your foot and rub the now empty hand against your thigh. “what about you?”

small talk quickly morphs into an actual conversation. for you two to run in different circles, chit chat comes easy, and soon you’re both facing each other, intently focusing on what the other is saying. a small smile is etched on your face as you listen to eren spin a tale complete with dramatic hand movements, drink forgotten and placed next to yours for safekeeping. “and that’s when jean said-“

“yoooo, yeager-meister! you gotta come back out here, man.” the sliding door peels open again and reveals a slightly flushed face sporting a low buzz cut. you recognize the intruder as connie, the class clown from your fifth hour english IV class. as childish as his antics with sasha can be, they do make you bite your lower lip in attempt to keep a straight face. “reiner’s about to down an entire...”upon seeing you, his eyes widen and he raises his hands up in mock surrender. “oh. ohh, a thousand apologies.” he’s grinning wide enough to put the cheshire cat to shame, walking backwards from the patio. “i’ll leave you two alone.” the glass door closes with a bang, and just like that, he’s gone, the lingering scent of weed the only implication he was ever there.

“so what was that about?” you can’t conceal the laugh you let out, but it’s cut off when you notice eren’s face. he’s uncharacteristically bashful, red starting to dust along his cheeks. he rubs at the back of his neck, and looks everywhere but at your eyes. “you okay, eren?” you inquire worriedly, leaning forward.

“ah, uh… um..” he gulps, and you can’t help but notice the way his adam’s apple jumps up and down from the option, but now is not the time for that. “connie, he’s just a- oh, fuck it.” he cracks a small smile in your direction, green irises boring straight into yours. “i.. i once told him about this crush i have on you.”

it’s like the world goes silent. blood rushes to your ears and face and just like that, the heat from when eren first came to the back patio has returned and in tenfold. what did he just say? this has to be some joke, or some elaborate dream because eren yeager, trost high’s heartthrob and basketball star just said he has a crush on you. “...huh?” the syllable comes out small and quiet. even though you heard him perfectly, you need to hear it again just to make sure.

“i’ve had it since junior year if we’re being honest, but i was pretty sure you didn’t even like me like that. i mean, we only had chem together, and we only talked about the work and stuff. you were in all these clubs and you’d ace every single test…” he laughs a little bit, and while he thinks it’s a corny little chuckle, you think it’s positively charming. “i figured you were into nerdy guys.”

it’s enough to make you want to burst into laughter. as you stressed over something as major as your skin tone being the deciding factor of any reciprocation, eren assumed that the only thing stopping him from bagging you was the fact that he didn’t walk around with his nose buried in a book. it just showed how different your two worlds could be.. “n-no, god, no.” you giggled a bit, quickly covering your hand in an attempt to stifle yourself. you’re not laughing at him, but at this situation. “i thought— ha-ha, i thought…” your laugh fades away, and you figure you shouldn’t voice your real assumption of him. “i thought blondes were your type.”

eren kind of shrugs a bit, a healthy bit of red still dusting the majority of his face. “i don’t really care about stuff like that, i don’t think i have a ‘type’... but i do hate that this all came out like this, it’s kinda corny, huh?”

you mimic his shrug, one of your palms momentarily facing the sky. “i don’t see anything wrong with corny.” as calm as you sound, your heart’s going a mile a minute, and you feel a little breathless.

“so i can assume you wouldn’t see anything wrong with me asking you to go see a movie next weekend?” his smile is crooked, his boyish charm on a thousand as he leans forward in the molded plastic chair. “and out to eat afterwards?”

you mirror his actions, a couple braids falling in front of your face and glossy lips glinting in the slowly lowering sun. you don’t miss how his eyes momentarily flit to your twinkling mouth. “no, i wouldn’t see a thing wrong with that.”

a/n: u made it to the bottom, thank u!!!!! this is officially the longest thing ive ever written while being here and i both love and hate it sometimes lmaooo idk why. my main inspiration for this was this video i found on ig that talked about dating as a black girl and it made me think.... i hope you all like this!!! i hadn’t seen anything explore this topic yet so i thought i’d write something down and it somehow became 2000 words long! thank u again for reading.

[mourntheantagonist]

#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

[alwaysbeliev]

I Can’t Lose You

Happy Valentine’s Day! This is for the @rdr-secret-cupid adventure this year. Thank you for the prompt, @bloodylove3 and I hope you enjoy!

summary: When Dutch asks you and Arthur to pretend you're married for a job, you're nervous that you won't be able to hide your feelings for the outlaw. You manage to keep it in line, but things go wrong fast.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

word count: 3497

link on AO3

“Alright, here’s where we’ll start.”

It was mid-afternoon. The heat from the sun above was overwhelming, burning whatever it touched. Not even the shade was a relief with its cover. Animals all around were burrowed underground, hiding inside of trees, splashing around in the cool river nearby, and doing their best to stay out of direct light. You idly watched a small mouse scurry through the grass, digging at the dirt every now and then before disappearing into a hole. Quietly, you wished you were that mouse. 

For the hundredth time, Dutch was reviewing his next grand plan. There was a tipoff about a decent score, something that would help the gang move to a new camp, and it would be almost easy to pull off. Almost. But he was careful to plan, detailed to a fault, and now you had to sit through another lecture about making sure you were in the right place at the right time. He stood just inside the flap of his tent as he talked. The others were in a loose circle around him and Hosea.

You felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of your neck. What you wouldn’t give to go jump in the rushing water just a hundred feet away, even fully clothed. Imagining the relief alone made you sweat more. You could feel your skin throb, your cheeks turning red, your shirt sticking to your lower back…

“Hey!”

The sharp sound of Dutch’s voice cut through your daydream, snapping you back to reality. Others were snickering as you jerked your head over and tried to pretend you had been listening.

“As I was saying,” the man continued, “there has been a small change of plan.” 

Whoa, Dutch was changing his plan? But the score was just a week away now.

He carried on, “Arthur will be playing the part of your protective, but quiet, husband. You will need to cause a big enough distraction that we can enter without tipping anyone off. Can you handle that?”

“I thought Hosea was providing the distraction?” Your mind was turning, scrambling to remember if that was the original plan or if you were suffering from heat stroke.

“As I had said before, Hosea will be needed outside. It would seem awfully suspicious to outsiders if 5 men all seemed to suddenly rush inside together, don’t you think?”

You supposed he had a point. Outwardly, you agreed with him, but inwardly, your heart was pounding. Arthur? Husband? You barely made it through the rest of the session, managing to excuse yourself as soon as Dutch was done talking. Never before had you felt the palpitations on your chest that you did now at the thought of being with Arthur Morgan. Not just being with him, but pretending to be married. 

To say that you had a crush on Arthur was putting it lightly. From the moment you had met the outlaw, the sight of him caused your heart to race faster than his beautiful horse. You could barely speak around him, let alone carry on any conversation, and you were certain everyone in camp knew about it. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly had approached you just last week to tease you about the way you fumbled over your words when Arthur asked a question. Now you had to pretend to be married?

The group dispersed as Dutch finished his grand lecture, chattering excitedly about the huge score. You felt light-headed and were rooted to the spot. Dutch was right, it should be easy, you had played the actor’s role many times before, but this… This wouldn’t be acting. And surely someone was going to notice that.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A week passed quicker than any week you’d been through before. You and Arthur had prepared a scene, practicing to get it right, and you were feeling slightly more confident. The cowboy still gave you flutters in your heart, but rehearsed lines were much easier than improvised ones, and you were positive he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes. It was easy.

But what wasn’t easy was how inseparable the two of you were becoming. Every morning, Arthur approached you near the campfire, offering a small treat, typically a piece of chocolate or a small fruit. The first time, your cheeks had flushed hotter than the summer sun. It hadn’t improved much. You would review your plan for the score, pause for a lunch time meal, and continue in the afternoon. Arthur often seemed to have other ideas, wanting a change of scenery, and you would find yourselves a few miles from camp on some rocky outlook or on a river’s shore, just shooting the breeze while the sun seared high above. Arthur even managed to convince you to leave your horse once, riding behind him with arms wrapped around his chest, content just to be near him. 

Finally, the day arrived. The gang all arose early, gathering their tools uneasily. Nerves always ran high the day of, regardless of how much planning had gone into the score, and your stomach churned. Karen had lent a hat, Mary-Beth a beautiful dress in your most favorite color, and you felt so fluffy and over the top. When Arthur saw you, his face seemed to go slack, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“My, my, Mrs. Morgan,” he drawled, taking a few lazy steps to close the gap to you. “Aren’t you lookin’ mighty fine this mornin’.”

Pouting and embarrassed, you waved him off, brushing a tight curl over your shoulder in a weak attempt to mask the color rising to your cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, now, I’m only tryin’ to lighten the mood.” He laughed before looking somewhat sheepish himself. “Besides, you really do.”

You paused, taking in his sincere compliment.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t have time to respond as Dutch stepped out of his tent, looking the picture of graceful leadership, commanding everyone’s attention. As you turned your body towards him, you saw Arthur’s gaze lingering on your figure, the dress complementing you perfectly. You focused on tugging on your white lace gloves, trying to turn your ears where it mattered.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Alright, Mr. Callahan, now, here we are!”

Your voice pitched up, you pointed out the grandest building in town: the bank. Arthur guided his horse to the hitching post before hopping down, turning to help you down, your big skirt catching slightly and flouncing as your feet landed. Grinning at him, you tugged at his arm excitedly.

“Come on, darling, we gotta go get us a loan! That house ain’t gonna buy itself, you know!”

It was clear you were amusing the man at your side. Your anxiety was causing a jump in your performance, pushing you a slightly uncomfortable bit above believable, but you were pretty and young and the men were watching you. That was all that mattered.

With a grand gesture, you shoved the door to the bank open, stepping into the marbled interior with your boots clicking. The teller glanced up from whatever paperwork he was looking at. For a brief second, he studied the two of you, his eyes lingering on you in particular, before a fixed smile appeared on his face. 

“How can I help you?” he drawled. As practiced, Arthur opened his mouth to speak but you butted in before he could.

“Why, hello, Mr…?” You swept forward, extending a hand for him to shake. He glanced at Arthur in disbelief before gingerly shaking your hand.

“Mr. Monaghan.”

“Oh, Mr. Monaghan, how lovely!” You grinned widely, shaking vigorously. “Yes, me and my new husband here are looking to buy a house! Isn’t that just grand? We just got married, you know, just last week! Oh, we had the most beautiful honeymoon, didn’t we, darling? Traveled to see the ocean, oh it was gorgeous! Simply gorgeous! Have you ever been, Mr. Monaghan?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. Not the way you planned it.

“The birds were so lovely, there were so many of them! Oh, and the food! Simply divine! Have you had seafood before? Crab, lobster, shrimp, oh it was perfect!”

As you rambled, the doors swung in again, allowing entrance to John and Javier. You didn’t spare a look for them, your energy pointed at the teller, and as planned, he didn’t seem to notice them. Your shrill voice and wild theatrics had his whole attention. You carried on as the men got into position.

“They paired the shrimp with-- What was it, my love? This wine, it was a red, wasn’t it? Or was it a white? Mr. Callahan is just hopeless about these things, you know, I’m glad I’m here to help him. Oh we had the most wonderful time together! I thought it might rain one day, there were these horrible gray clouds, but he told me not to worry, even though I wanted to, and sure enough, the sun was out by dinner time!”

The doors creaked again, allowing the last two men in, Dutch and Bill. All 5 men exchanged a look and, in one swift motion, they pulled their bandanas over their faces and drew their weapons. It was satisfying to hear the clicks of a few hammers. Your grin turned wicked and the teller suddenly realized what had happened. 

“We’ll take that loan to go, if you don’t mind.” You couldn’t help yourself. Arthur quickly stepped forward, shielding you with his body so your face was hidden, and you hurriedly moved towards the back of the men, allowing them to do what they needed. It was relatively painless and quiet, the teller moving hastily and without hesitation, filling bags with money and even allowing them access to the room with the safes. You served as lookout, casually standing at the window to keep an eye peeled for the law. Only when you heard Dutch’s signature goodbye did you turn away from it. Arthur made eye contact with you and playfully raised his eyebrows as he strode towards the door and you, ready to make for the horizon.

Without warning, the doors flew open, banging against the wall from the force behind it. Several lawmen were standing, guns drawn, ready to take out the outlaws. Instantly, shots were being fired. You didn’t know who fired first, but you dove out of the way, gripping your hat tightly so it wouldn’t be left behind. For some reason, your only coherent thought was Karen would have my hide.

Men were shouting, the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Flat on the floor, you couldn’t see anything, only heard Dutch shouting orders, police filling the streets outside, the solid sound of bullets connecting with flesh. There was nowhere to take cover. Somebody stepped on your leg and you gasped from the pain. A hand gripped your ankle and dragged you towards a wall. Panicked, you tried to scramble away until you registered Arthur’s voice trying to reassure you. 

“You boys play nice!” a deep voice bellowed from the porch. “We don’t want no hangings, now, y’here?”

“We will play nice when you play nice, Sheriff!” Dutch barked back. 

“This is a fucking massacre!” John spoke to the room at large. The men that had entered before were all on the floor, blood pooling around them, their guns laying forgotten on the wood. More were shouted outside. They were organizing to block all exits from town. There was no way you were gonna make it out now, you started to fear, and you could see the shared looks of the men with you echoing the same sentiment.

A surprised cry arose from outside as another gunshot cracked through the air. 

“There’s Mac!”

With renewed energy, everyone jumped up and sprang for the door. Feeling marginally brave, you snatched a gun from the floor, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it. Bill led the way out. Javier, John, and Dutch quickly followed, and Arthur made up the rear with you in tow, sticking to him like glue. 

The sun outside was blinding. You barely caught a glimpse of the street before you were rushed down the steps and around the side of the building. Back pressed against the wall, the pounding in your head started blocking out your hearing, and you only felt the vibrations in the air and under your feet. Even with all of Dutch’s careful planning, you were still trapped in this mess…

Arthur shouted your name. He stood, almost pressed to you, eyes burning. You snapped to attention, gun at the ready.

“We gotta make a break for it! Be ready on my count!”

It was all you could do to nod. You saw his horse in your peripheral, antsy and pawing, but waiting. You tried desperately to calm your breathing and gathered your skirts up out of your way. At the mark, you all ran, each in slightly different directions to mount their horses, spurring before fully mounted. Arthur was first and you scrambled after him, latching onto his arm and using the momentum of his horse to swing your leg over, skirts be damned. With a sharp cry, he urged his horse forward and away from town.

For a brief moment, you were free. Pounding hooves sounded behind you but were fading fast. The shouts of men continued to rip through the air, but you realized that they, too, were slowly growing faint.  And then a stabbing pain exploded in your thigh. A scream escaped before you could stop yourself. Trained well, Arthur didn’t stop his horse, but he tried to see what had happened, calling back to you with increasing desperation. You had been shot. The panic, the shortness of breath, and now the pain was too much. In a surprisingly short matter of seconds, black filled your vision and you were gone.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The rustle of the trees. The soft sound of running water. Crackling of a campfire. Low voices outside your tent. Your hair brushing your face. Dull and throbbing pain in your leg. Heaviness in your chest. And, finally, the realization you were laying on a cot and not your usual bedroll. 

Slowly, your eyes blinked open. This definitely wasn’t your tent. These weren’t your blankets. Only the soft glow from the fire and a few lanterns shone on the one canvas wall. It was enough light to see that this was Arthur’s tent, the small table with his journal and flower, his photographs on the wagon side. His smell on the blankets. You breathed in deeply.

A snort by your feet caused you to startle. Sitting up slowly, you saw Arthur slumped in a chair, his hat drawn over his face, arms crossed as he breathed evenly, the occasional snore breaking the silence. An strong and sharp pain made you hiss and, in turn, woke the outlaw from his slumber. 

“You’re awake,” he mumbled, barely awake himself as he sat up. 

“Regrettably…”

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Honestly? Not great,” you said, chuckling a little. “But I’ve had worse. Why am I here?”

“Thought you might like a real bed. Well, realer than your bedroll. We can put you out for the wolves, if ya like.” His teasing tone was back, but it was more strained than normal. He looked absolutely exhausted. 

“No, this is fine. It’s… nice.”

Silence fell again. You stared at a thread on the sheet while Arthur stared at you. Usually there was a party the night after a big score, everyone drinking and being merry. There was a strange lack of boisterous laughter, though, and you had the weird feeling it was your doing. 

“How did we make out?”

“Oh, we escaped,” he said, leaning back in the chair again. “But we’re trapped here awhile, there’ll be law crawlin’ everywhere for a few weeks.”

“How much?”

Not even your fixation on the money got him to crack a smile.

“Dunno.” Shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve been in here, makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Arthur’s behavior was bizarre. You hadn’t seen him behave this way when another gang member was injured, not even when John had nearly been lost last year, and it was starting to worry you. Was there something else you didn’t know about? Was your injury more serious than he was letting on? For a moment, you studied his face, the ache and shadows clear in the weak light, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the barest sign of a light track down his cheek.

“Arthur…” 

It was such a soft whisper, you weren’t sure he had heard you at first. He lifted his eyes to meet yours. You tried desperately to read him for a second before finally caving.

“Arthur, what happened? Did someone not make it?”

At long last, he managed a short huff of air that might be mistaken for laughter. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he ran his hands across his face, removing his hat and setting it on his wardrobe. When he looked at you again, he actually had a small smile, and relief had replaced what you had mistaken for grief.

“No, no, nothin’ like that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

He tilted his chin up, exhaling long and low towards the sky, seemingly contemplating something. It was quiet for an achingly long time. Another deep sigh and he brought his chin back down, meeting your gaze steadily.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he murmured. “I heard the shot, your scream… I thought you were gone for sure.”

Okay… you thought, still bewildered. We’ve almost lost people before. What makes me special?

“And I didn’t get the chance to tell you…” You had seen him struggle with words in the past, but this was different. It was almost as if his voice was physically fighting him on saying anything. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, truth be told. You mean-- That is, you’re very important-- That’s, well…”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you realized what he was trying to say. You didn’t dare utter a word, hoping, begging him to just spit it out. You weren’t positive this was happening, as now you were almost certain you had actually died and this was the beginning of your personal heaven.

“I can’t lose you, darlin’.”

The tears spilled over and dripped down your cheeks. You couldn’t even feel the pain in your thigh as it felt like a major weight had been lifted off of you. Arthur was startled, concern growing once more on his face at your tears, but when you started to grin and laughter bubbled up, he relaxed and looked as embarrassed as a school boy, dropping his eyes and smiling himself.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear,” you finally said, shaking your head at the silliness of it all. “I can’t lose you, either, Arthur. You mean the world to me.”

Slowly, the cowboy rose from his seat and approached the edge of the cot. You gingerly shifted yourself over to allow him to sit beside you, and he took the opportunity. You soaked in the other’s presence for just a moment. With the softest gaze you had seen from him, Arthur returned his attention to you. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his rough thumb stroking your cheek as he drank in your features, looking truly content for the first time. Gracefully and ever the gentleman, he tilted your face up to meet his as he carefully kissed you. It was light at first. He was testing the waters, not pushing too fast. But when you met him eagerly, he leaned in, hard. 

You didn’t dare breathe for the duration of the kiss, your heart a frightening combination of pounding and not beating at all. The taste of whiskey lingered fresh on his lips and left your mouth tingling. When Arthur pulled away, you shifted forward slightly, not wanting it to end. But, courteous as always, he pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead and then sat back again. Your eyes flickered all over his face. You were still unsure if you could catch your breath.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” he muttered. All you could do was nod. Wow…

“Can you stay with me?” you blurted out. “Tonight?”

“O’ course,” he agreed. He tugged his boots off as you scooted as far over as you could, lifting the sheet for him to crawl into. Warmth radiated from his skin and it was like stepping into a comfortable bath as he wrapped his arms around you. You sighed into his chest, drinking in his smell with your face buried in him, hands gripping his shirt. The dull sting in your leg was in the background of your mind. It didn’t matter to you, though; you were safe here. And this wasn’t going to end any time soon.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (26) || atz

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Dreams flash through your mind, juxtaposed with reality and hallucinations. You can no longer tell what is true or not, simply choosing to accept them all as you continue falling endlessly into nothingness.

You sit on a rock in a small cove. Men and women clamour around you in the water, tails flickering in beautiful jewel tones as they eagerly offer you all sorts of precious gifts, mother of pearl, a beautiful bouquet of colourful anemone, a silvered shell. You laugh and accept them, your tail shimmering with silver scales under the sun.

You feel a hand holding yours, cool metal brushing your soft skin. A pair of lips, soft and warm, brushes against your temple.

“Wake up soon, alright?”

Storms rage all around you. The sea heaves with massive, turbulent waves, the water grey with froth and lightning flashes. You scream with rage, despair, absolute loneliness and the seas respond, swirling around you as if they’re alive with fury.

There’s someone next to you. He’s reading to you in a chair at your bedside, a book about essential oils distilled from natural plants.

“And the clary sage oil is colourless, with a nutty smell. People say its effects feel euphoric, you know, do you think it’s true?”

You’re at the beach of a small island, sitting in the sand. The blue sea stretches on for miles, not another ship in sight. A young boy smiles and asks for your name. You don’t have one, but you tell him what you are. He can’t repeat the word to you with his tongue.

“Please, be okay. Don’t go without letting me thank you.” Someone sobs, wetness soaking into your shoulder. Another person reassures him quietly, his voice a little more gruff and rough around the edges, but still soft.

A man with green hair, San, you think his name with, dances around the ship wearing nothing but two starfish and a skirt of seaweed.

Okay, that’s definitely just a nightmare.

Someone’s singing. His voice is beautiful, striking high notes with ease and pulling you into the melody of the song. The notes wrap around you like a lullaby.

You’re in a prison cell, the place dank and dirty. In your hands, you hold the cut crystal, running your fingers along the words inscribed into it until you find the catch that separates the chain from the gem. The crystal reveals itself to be a tiny vial, containing a mixture inside that sparkles like liquid diamonds. You close your eyes one last time, remembering the little boy’s face, and swallow the contents whole.

“Please wake up.” Someone whispers to you. He holds your hands against his forehead as he pleads with you, and your fingers brush cloth. “Please, Chin Hae, wake up.”

Chin Hae.

Is that your name?

No, it’s not. I don’t have a name. But I am ****.

Chin Hae?

Hurry and wake up, Ch*n H**.

Why are you calling me that? My name isn’t C*** H**.

Hurry up, hurry up, ****.

Your eyes fly open.

You’re in a bed, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, you stay like that, suddenly uncomprehending of who you are or what you are. Every limb feels heavy, as if you haven’t moved them in months, and when you finally muster the strength to turn your head sideways, there’s a head of green hair there.

You scream.

“Wassgoingon?” The head of green hair mumbles, lifting his head to look for the source of the commotion. His eyes are bleary, tired, until they meet yours, then he freezes in shock.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

A word forms on your lips instinctively. “M…” Your voice is rough and scratchy from disuse. “Master?”

The man continues staring at you in shock for another few seconds. Then his eyes widen and he finally lets out a massive scream.

“What’s going on?” A young man with dark hair bursts into the room with a club over his shoulder, looking around for the source of the green haired man’s discomfort. When his eyes fall on you, they widen almost comically.

The club drops to the ground.

“Jongho-hyung?” You ask, and suddenly memories come flooding back to you, sitting in the square with a cream puff in front of you, entering a fortune teller’s booth together. The maknae simply keeps staring at you, before he finally reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Ow!” You shout in pain and bat his hand away, but it’s like trying to move a ship by blowing at its sails. “That hurts!”

His hand falls limply to the side, mouth hanging open in shock. “I’m not dreaming.” He turns to San, who still hasn’t moved from his seat, jaw dragging along the floor. “You’re not dreaming.”

San nods confirmation, just as shocked. You frown. Did you turn into a ghost or something?

Then Jongho tears out of the sickbay before you can ask his what the commotion is, and you can hear him screaming outside. “Everyone! Chin Hae is awake!”

You blink owlishly at them in confusion. Honestly, you just woke up. There’s nothing special about it.

San catches you in a crushing hug, so tight you can feel every rib creaking, but you simply put your arms around him. You’re stunned for a moment, but raise a hand to stroke his back to comfort him.

You feel him sob against you.

“Thank you. Thank you for being alive.” He wails into your sleeve, and your shoulder is damp with his tears. You can barely bring yourself to ask him why he’s crying, confused to as why everyone seems to be overly excited about you waking up. Then it comes back to you.

The whipping.

Captain.

Betrayal.

Wooyoung.

The gunshots.

Blood.

Yeosang.

You force yourself into a sitting position as fast as you can, glancing around the room desperately. It’s empty, except for you. Your heart sinks.

Yeosang isn’t there.

“What happened to Yeosang-hyung?” You demand, turning to your master. “Oh god, is he dead? Did I fail? Did he-”

San opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off from answering you when someone bursts in through the door of the sickbay, panting hard and hunched over on his knees. When he finally does catch his breath, he looks up, and then he sees you.

It’s Yeosang.

It’s Yeosang, still looking a little pale and ashen and weak. It’s Yeosang, who looks like he hasn’t slept in days. But it’s Yeosang, who’s blessedly and wonderfully alive, and that’s all the matters to you.

“Yeosang-hyung-”

He takes three steps to cross the room and wraps his arms around you, delicately and gently, as if he’s afraid you might dissolve into nothingness if he touches you too hard. San moves away so Yeosang can take his place, and the navigator stares at you in wonderment. You turn a little red in embarrassment.

“You’re alive.” He says, still stunned. You nod in reply, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not a ghost.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m not dreaming?”

The way he says the last question, as if he’s so sure that you’re nothing but a figment of his imagination, how he doesn’t dare to trust what he sees in case it’s all a lie breaks your heart. You grip his hand earnestly, warm blood flowing under yours.

“You’re not.”

Then Yeosang is cradling you to him tightly, silent tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again, you dumbass.”

A laugh pulls at your lips. Yeosang is swearing, and maybe that’s a bigger miracle than you actually coming back.

“I won’t if you don’t save me the next time.”

Yeosang pulls away from you a little, just to look at you, sniffing as he wipes his eyes with the hem of his sleeve. “I can’t do that.”

“We’ll have a rotation.” You tell him, as you help him dab dry the tears, an amused smile on your face. “I’ll sacrifice myself for you on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and weekends. You can have the others.”

Yeosang hiccups a little through his smile and tears. “No fair, you get so many more days than I do…”

The two of you sit in silence, both of you having gone through the same trial together has forged a bond between the two of you no one else has. Yeosang is smiling so brightly, like a small sun, and you can’t help but laugh at how happy he looks.

Then San clears his throat. “Yeosangie, she needs to change.”

Yeosang glances down at you, only to realise that you’re wearing a thin white shirt over your bindings and nothing else. His face turns cherry red and he leaps away from you, scrambling to avert his eyes with his hands and immediately knocks his nose into the door frame.

“I’ll be going now!” He squeaks, and you laugh at how sweet he is. He glances back at you one last time, shyly peeking through his fingers as a real, genuine smile blooms across his face. “I’m really, really happy, Chin Hae.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I know.”

With one last smile, the navigator exits the room, leaving you and San in silence.

Your master stares at you for a long moment. Then he opens his mouth to speak.

“That should have killed you.”

You had known that the moment you’d started the link between you and him. What you were intending to do, what you were trying to get back, and the price you’d have to pay. You had known all of this, and you’d still gone ahead with it anyway.

“I know.”

He fixes you with a stern look, as if you’ve just made a mistake in your healing theory or you’ve done a bandage wrong. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve seen anyone do, and I live with Wooyoung and Yunho.”

A snort forces its way out of your mouth.

“But you did it anyway, and you’re still here.” San smiles gently, his strict facade cracking. He looks so relieved, as if he’s been carrying this weight on his shoulders ever since you attempted the healing. Then something strikes you.

“How long have I been out?”

“About a week or so.” Your master replies as he places a bundle of clothes on the bed. Your eyes fly open in shock. Exactly how close did you come to completely draining yourself that day?

Your master jabs a finger at you.

“I should expel you as my student.” Fear wells up in you for a moment at the thought, but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Get dressed, apprentice.”

With that, he leaves the room.

You change your clothes slowly, your muscles sore and limbs stiff. As you take off your shirt, your fingers brush the silver chain of your necklace.

The words inscribed on it leave your lips.

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

Suddenly, excitement wells in you as you fumble with the necklace, brushing your fingers across the silver, trying to find the hidden clasp. And as though it knows you are looking for it, you find it faster than you thought you would, and there’s a small clicking sound.

The tiny crystal vial falls to the bed.

I want a name, you hear a voice whisper around you, carried on the wind as it swirls around you and fades.

Your mouth falls open.

Because the voice was yours.

[secretlysheikah]

Blood and Bowstring 

Well well well, I have something special for all of you! To celebrate getting to 200 followers on this little angsty blog of mine, I have decided it would be fun to write a little something for you all to enjoy. Its not very long, But I hope you like it! 

Thank you all so much for supporting me and my writing! I don’t know where you all came from, but I am so happy you decided to join me. Thank you!

Start Here:

Wild as he was now called was still wary of the eight other heroes, but that was to be expected considering his past. Wild had spent his adventure alone, and even now, after his adventure was done he often found himself wandering Hyrule alone. It felt freeing, not having to answer to anyone but himself. But now, being around this large and rowdy group, he realized just how lonely he had been. He still wanted to have privacy, felt the urge to wander, but as a whole he didn’t mind the others. The various Links hadn’t been together for long but Wild could feel the tenuous bonds of friendship beginning to grow between them.  

It had been about three weeks since Wild had been... Recruited? Asked to join? Added to the group, and there had been a bit of a learning curve. He had to learn how to fight in a group, which was a pain and he couldn’t just wander off anymore without being rounded up (by a wolf of all things) and then getting a lecture for his trouble. The chain, as the youngest of the group had dubbed them, had a mission, a dangerous one and it wouldn’t be good if he got lost or hurt when he wandered. Thinking of their mysterious mission Wild honestly didn’t really know what that they were supposed to be doing. Besides traveling between the different eras of Hyrule and fighting powerful monsters there didn’t seem to be much direction as of yet. Wild was pulled from his thoughts when a voice piped up from across the camp.

“Who do you think is the best archer?” Wind asked from his place next to the fire. They had just finished dinner and everyone was chatting amicably as they relaxed. This question had the group pause in their collective conversations as they pondered the question. 

“Well I don’t want to brag, but I have shot keese from a far distance before.” The one called Warriors said proudly adjusting his blue scarf before he mimicked shooting an arrow.

“A keese? Are you kidding me pretty boy, how about something actually impressive,” Legend scoffed and was playfully jabbed in the side by the brown haired boy. Wild tried to recall the name of the other boy but found he was drawing a blank. 

Wild had struggled with the names of his fellow heroes for a while now, there were some names he was able to remember easily. Like Legend, the distinctive pink in his hair made it easy for Wild to remember his name. Well that, and the fact that Legend often came off as a standoffish prick with the ability to cut your pride in half with a sentence also helped. Wild struggled to recall the name of the brown haired boy for a moment longer until it popped into his head. The boy’s name was Hyrule, soft spoken and kind, Wild liked him. Hyrule was a wanderer like himself and with the few interactions they had Wild knew he found someone to take with him if he ever had the urge to explore the new terrain.   

The conversation quickly escalated from there with everyone trying to one up each other with more outlandish stories from their adventures. It was terribly amusing and Wild had an urge to join them but he decided to sit this one out and just observe. While he was getting used to the others, he still found that he didn’t want to offer too much information about himself just yet. It would be better to have an element of surprise just in case things turned sour. 

Warriors as it turned out was quite the story teller, he boasted about feats that had no chance of actually being true. Though Wind did come up with some whoppers of his own. The conversation continued on, and Wild found that the most impressive story was told by Twilight. He claimed that with a special mask and some enchanted arrows he was able to take out a whole camp of bulblins (whatever those were) from over a large field length away. Not to be outdone Wind was quick to jump in and Wild had to hide an amused laugh when he claimed that he had to shoot a sea monster in the eye while trying to sail through a storm and a whirlpool all at the same time. 

“It was nuts! I could barely see through the rain and the flashes of lightning!” Wind said, jumping to his feet and dramatically acted out the scene. Out of the corner of his eye Wild noticed how Legend winced slightly whenever Wind described the lighting. Curiosity burned inside him and he wanted to ask about it but one look from the red clad hero stopped that line of thinking before it even got started. Wild looked away quickly when he realized with dawning horror that he had been staring but it was too late, he had been caught.

“What about you Wild? Have anything to contribute?” Legend sneered and Wild felt his heart freeze. All eyes turned to him and he shrunk down under the weight of the stares. He hated having so much attention on him, it made him uncomfortable. Wild tugged at his hood. He thought about pulling it on hoping it would release him from the crushing weight of their stares, but he found he couldn’t get it to lift up. He could feel heat rising to his face, his scars began to burn and he rubbed at them in a vain attempt to quell the ache. Wild could feel his breaths growing quick and he longed for escape and fresh air. Luckily a voice sliced through his panic and he felt the eyes of the others shift away from him. 

“Hey, It’s okay if you don’t want to share, we have plenty to go off of already,” the smallest hero, Four said, drawing the attention of the others off of Wild. He gave the other hero a short nod in thanks and after a moment of awkward tugging managed to pull the hood up and over his head. The weight of it calmed him slightly and he took special care to ensure that his face was hidden in shadows. 

“Have anything specific in mind, Four?” The soft spoken hero, Sky asked with a sleepy yawn and a stretch. Wild felt himself slouch and he pulled his knees up towards his chest so he could rest his arms on top of them. He was curious despite himself, and he wanted to know what the others considered impressive. 

“Well there was the lizalfos that he shot through the eye. That was pretty impressive given the fact that, from where he shot, there was barely enough clearance to see, let alone fire,” Four said matter-of-factly. The others nodded in agreement and Wild felt his eyebrow quirk up. He remembered that, it wasn’t a hard shot in his opinion, anyone could do that. He kept quiet though when Wind began to speak.  

“OH! And remember the moblin he took down? He shot three arrows at once!” Wind added excitedly and the others murmured excitedly. Wild hardly considered that impressive, though he supposed he hadn’t seen the others do something like that before. As they continued to chat Wild still felt the tight coil of anxiety twisting around his gut. His heart thudded hard against his ribcage and he worked on calming it while he continued to listen to the others rattle off more examples of his archery prowess. 

Even with all the eyes off him he still couldn’t stop himself from wanting to shrink down into a ball. He chided himself for being so weak, they were just talking about his archery skills. Though he could hear a distant bell of familiarity ringing in his mind. This whole situation felt very familiar in the worst kind of way and for some reason it made him very anxious, like he was being judged. In a way he was being judged, but it was all in good fun, he knew that. So why did he feel like he was about to get punished?

“Did you have any training?” Someone asked and Wild could only manage the barest of nods. The ringing in his head became deafening and he felt his muscles beginning to lock up. He could tell the others were still talking to him but they might as well have been miles away. His gaze became fixed on a point somewhere in the distance as everything began to fade into the background noise. He knew what this was now but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The memory was already pulling him away from the world and everyone in it. He took a deep breath and let himself fall into it. 

************ 

Link felt the painful vibration from the bow string as the arrow was loosed. It landed with a solid thunk into the target making a tight grouping at its center. His fingers ached, his back muscles pulled and cramped painfully and his arms were little better than chu jelly. At the shout from his commander Link stood at attention ignoring the pull and burn in his back as he did so. Back perfectly straight and rigid and eyes staring straight ahead he schooled his face into a flat emotionless mask and waited. His commander walked up to the target followed by one of his subordinates and together they studied his handy work. Link could tell by their posture that they weren’t satisfied with his shooting. His fingers gave a painful throb and he felt something warm pool at the tip of his middle finger.   

“Sloppy work,” the commander scoffed as he ripped one of the arrows free and eyed the hole left behind in the target. Link felt his mouth press into a firm line but he said nothing. 

“I agree, this is worse than last time,” the subordinate commented blandly as he too pulled another arrow out from the target and examined the fletching. Link felt his heart begin to sink, he knew what this meant. They had already been shooting for over three hours now and his fingers were little better than raw and bleeding skin. 

When they had begun with his archery training Link had been excited. He always had an interest in archery after watching the older soldiers practicing in the courtyard some years ago. But after a few rounds of shooting, his fingers became stiff and sore. His arm that held the bow had already begun to bruise and his shoulders had burned. 

There had also been little in the way of actual instruction, instead they had just handed him the bow and a quiver of arrows and showed him how to stand. Other than that he had to figure it out on his own and he would have been lying if he said he didn’t find it difficult. Though taking into account his lack of instruction he thought he was doing fairly well. His superiors on the other hand had made it clear they weren’t happy with his progress. By the time they were finished shooting for that day Link couldn’t curl his index and middle fingers and his arm had such deep bruising that just the fabric of his shirt rubbing against his forearm caused pain. 

It wasn’t until later that night around the dining table with the other soldiers that he learned that archers were meant to get braces to protect their arms and a special tab to help protect their fingers against the bow string. He found himself without words when he learned this new information. So he kept his head down and pushed his food around his plate, his apatite forgotten in the swirl of his own thoughts. At his next practice he asked his commander why he wasn’t given a guard and a tab and was met with a hard glare and a sneer. He was told in no uncertain terms that he must learn to feel the string of the bow before he would be allowed the luxury of a guard and tab. That day he was forced to practice archery until the sun went down, and it was the first time his fingers bled.  

From that point on Link had made it a point to learn as quickly as possible so he could earn his gear. But after months of practice that left him with bleeding fingers and bruises he found he always fell short of his commander’s impossible standards of perfection. Every missed shot led to fits of rage and even when he honed his skills to the point of out shooting his fellow knights, it never was good enough. A scoff from the commander’s laky brought his attention back on the task at hand.  

“Blood on the fletching, how disgusting,” the subordinate sneered as he handed the offending arrow to the commander. With a disgusted look of his own the commander ordered his subordinate to gather the rest of the arrows as he made his way back over to Link. He steeled himself for the tirade and surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pants and hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to get the blood out of the fabric later.   

“sloppy work Link, you can do better than this,” the commander said as he brandished the arrow in front of his face for him to examine. There was only a small smear of red on the white and blue feathers, but it was enough to be noticeable. 

“Look at this mess you left on this arrow, disgusting,” he said as he leaned forward and got into Link’s face. His breath smelled rancid and Link had to force himself to keep his face neutral in the face of his commander’s anger. 

“Not to mention you can’t even manage to hit the target’s center! You’re at fifty paces, a toddler can do better than that!” He bellowed and Link felt spittle land on his cheek. Link could feel a tight ball of rage coil like a snake in his gut and it was a challenge to keep his silent mask firmly in place. 

“And you call yourself the hero. Pathetic. How can we trust the fate of Hyrule to a hero that can’t even hit his target?” He asked and Link was sorely tempted to snap back. Instead he only blinked slowly, and let his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. The commander straightened and looked down his nose at him. His subordinate trotted up next to him and handed the arrows back over to Link. He took them mutely and placed them back in his quiver and waited for the next round of shooting to start. The subordinate looked at his hand and made a face at the small smear of blood that Link had accidently left behind. 

“Honestly can’t you keep your failure to yourself?” He drawled as he leaned forward and wiped the offending blood on Link’s shirt. Link felt the something snap in his chest and without thinking words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“Maybe if I had something protecting my fingers I wouldn’t leave my ‘failure’ on you,” Link hissed and as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had made a terrible mistake. In one swift movement his commander shoved the subordinate aside and whipped the arrow across Link’s face. Pain bloomed across his face as the fletching on the arrow made a fine slice across his cheek. He felt a welt beginning to rise and before he could straighten the arrow was brought across his face once again and this time he felt the arrow snap from the force. He could feel a new welt rising along his jawline and tears welled up in his eyes from the stinging pain.

“How dare you speak out of turn! You are meant to be seen not heard!” The commander roared, tossing the arrow aside and fisting Link’s shirt in his hands. Link forced himself to make eye contact, staring down his commander’s rage with all the spite he could muster. Link watched as the commander’s eyes flared with renewed rage and he was flung off his feet. He hit the ground hard and before he could recover he found the tip of a blade at his throat. He couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock, this was a new level of rage and a small part of him wondered how far his commander was going to take his threat. The look of malicious glee that spread across his commander’s face sent a chill through him. 

“Not so uppity now are you. On your feet,” He commanded and Link slowly began to get to his feet, his eyes trained on his commander’s face. His breathing was heavy and Link watched for any change in body language that might indicate an attack. The tip of the sword followed him as he moved and when he was finally upright the tip of the sword traced the welt on his cheek that was left behind by the arrow. 

“I should have you whipped soundly for this insubordination,” The commander said softly as the tip of his sword once again found the soft skin underneath his chin. Link had to force himself to regain his neutral mask and he raised his eyes to meet his commander’s cold gray eyes. Link could handle a lashing, it wouldn’t be the first time and with his track record he fully expected to receive more. But the look in his commander’s eyes made him think a lashing would be a kind alternative to the punishment he was about to get. Link felt his heart begin to race against as he felt the tip of the blade come to rest against his Adam’s apple. After a moment of contemplation his commander smiled and removed the blade from his neck. 

“You know, you caught me in a good mood. Since you seem so determined to earn your guard and tab, you will shoot these arrows until your form is perfect.” He said with a small smile. Link felt his fingers give a painful throb at his words but he refused to show any weakness. With a curt nod and a determined glare Link inclined his head and reached for an arrow. The commander and his laky smiled evilly and moved off to the side allowing Link to knock and pull back his arrow to take aim. Link’s arm throbbed and blood dripped off his fingertips but he refused to make a sound, refused to show any signs of discomfort as he let the arrow fly.

******

The memory slowly faded away and Wild felt himself come back to the clearing. His fingers ached with the memory of the past and he had to force himself not to suck in a deep breath when he remembered he was not alone. Slowly he let his eyes wander around the camp. The others were still chatting about archery and looking around it seemed that none of them noticed that he had mentally disappeared. Wild bowed his head slightly and thanked Hylia for that small mercy. He knew he couldn’t hide his condition forever but he didn’t want the others to know just yet. A part of him feared they would toss him away if they realized he was broken in a way that couldn’t be fixed. 

As casually as he could he brought his hands together and felt along the inner knuckles of his right hand. Thick calluses lined his middle and index fingers where the bow string would sit when he drew arrows back to fire. He wondered how long he had to shoot in order to earn his tab that day, if he ever earned his tab that day. A phantom ache throbbed through the joints of his fingers and he massaged the pain away absently. Wild was so engrossed in his thoughts he completely missed how the hero of Twilight watched him out of the corner of his eye.

[breanime]

Bre’s Boys Preference: How They React to Another Person Checking You Out

Caspian X: He tries to play it off, his displeasure at the other man’s attentions to you, but you can see it on his face. If he’s especially unhappy, he’ll put an arm around you as you walk, or kiss the top of your head as you talk, just subtly showing that you’re with him, and that he’s with you, and if he senses even a hint of discomfort from you, he won’t hesitate to step in. 

Logan Delos: Like, he gets it... You’re hot as hell; he stares at you all day long. And also, it’s Logan--he is eye candy personified, so he understands that you’re gorgeous and people are going to check you out, but he’s also like “she’s with ME”, so Logan will put a hand on your ass while the person is checking you out, and when the person starts getting uncomfortable, Logan will turn and toss him a wink...because he’s a little shit.

Billy Russo: Ohhhhh, he does not like that shit at ALL. His dark eyes are narrowed as he watches the guy watch you, and the more he stares, the angrier Billy gets. If he’s at an event and has to maintain a certain image, than he’ll settle for just keeping you close, maybe making a point to touch you a little more to show that you were with him. But if it’s just on the street, and his patience has reached it’s max, Billy is going to straight up look the guy in the eye, stalking over to him like the freaking panther he is, and calmly, but lowly ask “you got a problem?” And the offender would deny any problem and scurry off. Billy, however, takes note of what direction he goes off in and memorizes his face for later use...

Jax Teller: Cocks an eyebrow, smirks, swaggers right up to the guy and says: “You know it’s rude to stare, bro”. The guy will probably try to save face, but Jax ain’t having it. He’ll tell the guy to keep his eyes to himself, or he’ll have to deal with Jax. All the while, he never stops smirking down at him. 

Angel Reyes: “Yo, you got a problem? What you lookin’ at, homie?” Walks over to the guy in three big steps, gets all in his face. “Nah, nah, don’t try to walk away now, I saw you lookin’ at my girl, wassup?” Angel is NOT letting it go, like, he’s understanding (to a point) in a quick, cursory glance, but he hates when guys straight up stare at you, undressing you with their eyes. He doesn’t bother making it a point that you’re with him, he straight up questions the guy as to what his problem is. “Ok, well, on your way out, don’t forget to apologize.” he says, glaring over at him. The guy stammers out an apology to Angel, and Angel laughs. “Nah, not to me--to her.”

Coco Cruz: He’s immediately on edge. His whole body tenses up, and anyone within a mile’s radius can feel the shift in the air as Coco stares at the guy staring at you. Think of a cat with it’s tail up and all the hairs standing up--that’s Coco. He glares, unblinking, at the guy for several moments before the guy takes his eyes off of you and notices. Then the dude is backtracking quick, trying to pretend he was looking past you or getting out his phone and looking away. Depending on his mood, Coco might just drape an arm around your shoulder and continue to glare at the guy while you go on about your business, or he might go over to the guy and get in his face. “Yo, you keep lookin’ at my girl, it’s startin’ to piss me off, homie. We got a problem?” Either way, you’re getting f***** that night when you get home. 

Miguel Galindo: He’ll arch an eyebrow, turning his entire body to watch the guy watch you. He’s actually a little amused, like, this guy is staring at you like you’re a Goddess--and you are, but you have no idea that the guy even exists. He’ll watch the guy for a while before walking over to you, and he’ll press a soft kiss to your cheek as he puts his hand on your waist, and when he does, he flashes both the fancy watch on his wrist, and the sterling silver gun on his hip. The next time he looks up, the guy is gone. Miguel will make eye contact with Nestor, who will shake his head and smile, and as the day goes on, Miguel keeps count of all the envious looks he gets from men because he--and no one else--has you on his arm. 

Nick Amaro: Yes, Nick is a detective. Yes, he is a professional. Yes, he is a father... But he’s also a Crazy Jealous Guy. So when he notices guys staring at you (and oh man, he notices), he tries to keep it together, he really does. But he hates the idea of men looking at you as an object, and he hates the fact that they’re probably thinking dirty thoughts about the woman he loves. So Nick will usually stay close to you, glaring over at anyone who stares for too long. Sometimes he’ll look over at the guy and just ask “you need something, man?” and that will get him to go away. Other times, Nick will just loudly point out that he’s a cop in a totally casual comment, and that gets the guys to scatter. 

Johnny Tuturro: He’s a tie between amused and annoyed. Like, he gets that he’s with a fine ass woman, and he can’t blame people for staring--hell, he did his share of staring at you before you were a couple--but it rubs him the wrong way when people are staring too hard. But Johnny has to deal with a lot of violence and nonsense in his job, so his solution is simple: just be there. He’ll stay with you, enjoying your company with his arm around you, making you laugh and keeping you close, and usually that deters the starers. Either way, he gets to put his hands on you, and he’s always down for that. 

Rio: Ohhh. The King of Pettiness is amused. He stands with his hands in front of him (you know what stance I’m talking about), with his head titled a bit to the side and a smirk on his lips. Rio knows you’re a beautiful woman, he knows guys (and girls) are gonna check you out, but most importantly--he knows that you’re his, and that you’re loyal to him. So he ain’t worried. After a while, though, he can’t help but show off. Like, he has you. He played the game of love, and he WON. He got you! So Rio will swagger over to his, his steps calm and cool, and just stand in front of you. As he talks to you, his voice low and intimate, he’d reach up and caress your face--just a soft, possessive gesture that would make anyone watching now that you were off-limits. Of course...the tats and general look of “don’t fuck with me” he has also helps make his point, TBH

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also, I conned the term “Bre’s Boys” myself, and I’m proud of it lol. Also--taglist ppl, can you let me know if you got a notification for this or if you just saw it on my blog?

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