#literally don't worry about the length of your reply at all this is ridiculous

[gretagerwigsmuse]

oh my god hi hi! thank you thank you thank you!!! i'm sorry i took SO long to respond to this (i literally would just read your comments over and over again and get all fuzzy and warm and then just not reply 🤦🏼‍♀️). and to be completely honest i still don't entirely know where to start, but i'll damn near try my best!

"angsty and cozy read" is definitely the vibe i was going for with this one! i really just like exploring the fact that she's fallible and sometimes has less than perfect thoughts and same with bradley? they're both human and make mistakes, but at the end of the day they just love each other so much that you know they'll be able to get through it? i tried to reply in order, but tbh it's kind of messy so 1000 apologies if it's confusing lol -

bradley cooking is also my favorite literary genre and i try and bring it up every chance i get it. and i like that they both know she isn't very good at cooking, but they both still do it together? i have to think of what she's going to make for him when he gets home (to her 😊), but she's def gonna make those cookies of carole's again, especially since she didn't burn them.

eeep yes! bradley does always ground her with his physical presence and she knows she's spiraling and being a little ridiculous and bradley lets her - to a point. he knows she's freaking out about the bar, so he makes her drink and let's her fix everything, while also putting everything he touched back exactly how it's supposed to be. and the whole thing with the perfume and cologne - like it's something that can ground both them while they're apart? and then the clothes and presents they get each other? i just think that's one of my favorite parts of writing them - all the little non-sexual intimacies between them?

the time measurement bit (it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant) was so fun to add in because like she knows she's not pregnant, knows it's not on her horizon, but she can't help but think about it in relation to bradley?

i'm glad you liked the surfing bit because it makes SO MUCH SENSE for bradley? like it's a solitary activity, you can personally reflect, and it's the closest opposite to being a pilot and flying all the time? plus bradley and max hmmmmm hmmmm?? 😉 i love writing their dynamic and giving bradley friends outside the squad/navy. max and caroline (max calling her "caro" lol) are mentioned in some other fics i'm working on too!

the home is a person, not a place thing really works so well for them and i'm glad you liked that aspect! i just think that since both of them do travel so much that they're each other's home base, wherever that ends up being? and her constantly being like 'it's bradley's house' but then mav being like 'it's your house as much as bradley's' and just having that validation of how much bradley does love and care for her from the person who has known him the longest was something i really wanted to highlight, especially since mav plays a HUGE part in another fic i'm writing for them!

bradley bradshaw is a blusher and he's ticklish and it's time we made that a big part of fics! he may be one of the navy's best assets, but get him in front of his girlfriend and he's just a big softie (wait till they have kids...). plus he saves wrapping paper and cards religiously, confirmed!

okay so i totally had a moment when i threw in the rocketman nickname because on her playlist for bradley, there's all these space related/adjacent songs and ofc one is rocket man and i just kept listening to it and it just works So Well on like fifty different levels. there's this line that always reminds me of bradley in this lil universe i created - it's just my job five days a week // a rocket man // a rocket man. i'm gonna to go into all this in another fic too (jordan finish your current ones before adding more smh) and i'm ready to emotionally devastate!

i really wanted them to talk about her worries at length, like not just her being tired, but everything about how she was feeling that evening. because it is a bit of uncharted territory for both of them (her obviously, but also bradley never really having anyone before to make saying goodbye so difficult) and i didn't want either of them to have doubts. because yeah they're both going to be sad, but they're going to come home to each other. and just that knowledge is something to propel them both i guess? idk

and yessss i could have made them really go at it under the christmas tree and have really kinky sex (i thought about it, truly), but it didn't feel right? i wanted it to be kind of slow and intimate and just deeper than what we normally see from them? like they can't get close enough to each other? so i'm glad you still liked it 😊 real and good and yours was one of my fave lines, so i'm glad you singled it out!

so i think i might do something with their emails to each other? after i post the gala fic (i stg it's coming!) i want to do one when he comes back from this deployment and you see them celebrate their first anniversary together (they go to mexico!!!), so i think i can work some of the emails into that!

anyway thank you so so so much for leaving such detailed comments! i appreciate it SO much and know how long it takes to do this, so it really means so much to me 💕

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

[cristobalrios]

Rios had been standing over Agnes's unconscious form, pale-faced and completely unsure of why this happened or what to do next, but Emil told him that she drank something, on purpose, and that didn't sit well with him at all. Her vitals were stable and she was surviving within a (hopefully temporary) coma. It's quite possible she tried to commit suicide. But when she did whatever the hell it was that she did, it just so happened to correspond with them losing their tail, and Emil suspects it's not a coincidence, a thought which he explicitly stated to the captain, but more importantly to Raffi, who was very excited about this despite the literal hell going on around them.

"Captain? Captain, did you hear us?" Emil's voice was finally able to pierce through his daze, and he looked up from Agnes's body, startled.

"What? Oh, uh... Right. I... Didn't get any of that."

"Emmet said we received a distress call from the Fenris Rangers. Elnor called Seven to the Artifact. Hugh is severely injured, he's stabilized, but they're under attack by the Zhat Vash and they need us to pick them up," Emil explained.

"Shit. Hugh, that's the... The director of the stuff with the xBs, the.. Reclamation Project, right? Picard's contact on the cube." Emil nodded. "Alright, I'm on it."

He ran up the steps to the bridge, and Enoch turned from nav/com as Cris sat in the captain's chair. "Change course, we're heading back to the cube," Cris instructed. "And hail Picard, we need to tell him we'll take a little longer getting to Nepenthe."

"Aye, sir," Enoch said, and he did as instructed.

"Bad news, jefe. Elnor needs backup at the cube, we need to take a quick detour back, it'll take us a bit longer to get to you. Will you two be alright there for a while?" he asked. After Picard informed him that Soji is having a difficult time adjusting but that they're with trusted friends and they're in good hands, he ended the call as they went to warp.

"Rios to Emil," Cris said after hitting his combadge. "How's Agnes doing?"

"Still stable, Captain."

"Alright, be prepared for a new patient. Elnor's message said he's in critical condition. Be prepared for the worst, but make sure he'll make it. Our sickbay is filling up fast but I'm not losing anyone else on my goddamn ship. My sickbay is not meant to be a morgue. We already have one dead and one coma, our quota is full."

"Understood, sir."

In their earlier attempt to lose their tail, they hadn't actually gotten that far from the Artifact at maximum warp, so it wasn't long before they made it back. He received a hail from Seven immediately, who had gotten to the Queencell on her own. Elnor and Hugh were in one of the medlabs meant for the xBs and Seven was able to open a quick gap in their shields to allow Rios to transport them aboard (well, Ian handled the actual transporting), directly to Sickbay. Seven said she needed to stay on the cube, someone has to look after the rest of the xBs and save them from the Tal Shiar. So they set a course for Nepenthe, making sure they didn't pick up any more tails again, but they seemed to be in the clear.

Emil started to work on Hugh immediately, and he activated Steward to check Elnor out, just run scans. Despite his 'I'm a Hospitality Hologram, not a nurse' comment, it really was just a simple use of the tools before Emil could confidently clear him.

Raffi looked at Rios as she sat at tactical, relieving Emmet. "You look like shit, Cris."

"Ella tiene razón, Capitán," Emmet stated. Cris shot him a look and he deactivated with a "No es asunto mío."

Cris looked at Enoch. "Is the course laid in?"

"Yes sir," he said.

"Activate autopilot,"

Enoch hit some buttons. "Autopilot activated, si--"

"Deactivate ENH." Enoch flickered away before he could finish the word.

"You didn't have to bite his head off." Raffi commented. "Maybe you should take a break."

"I'm fine. Update Picard on our ETA, I'm sure he'll appreciate that. I'm going to check on the kid and our latest guest," he said, muttering something about 'too many goddamn people on my ship' as he slid down the steps using the rails to get to sickbay on the lower deck.

"Is Elnor injured?" He asked, seeing Steward scan him.

"He's just been cleared," Steward responded.

"Excellent. Deactivate EHH."

"Sir, wai--" He flickered away and the tool he was holding fell as Emil protested. Elnor caught it before it hit the ground. Emil shot him a grateful look as he placed it down on a counter. Cris didn't seem to care. Emil is the only hologram necessary at the moment.

"That wasn't nice, Captain," Emil scolded.

"I don't have time for this."

"You do seem a bit snippy," Elnor commented. Cris shot him a look. "Sorry. I'll out-butt," he said, looking away.

"How's he doing?" Cris asked, indicating Hugh on the biobed next to Agnes.

"Vitals are stabilized. Wound is healed, for the most part. He'll be sore for a while, he'll have to take it easy, but he'll be alright," Emil said. "He should regain consciousness within the next several hours. Likely before we reach Nepenthe."

Cris nodded. "Is there anyway we can get something set up in Agnes's quarters for her? I mean, she's stable. Can you get a monitoring system in there? Just temporarily. I don't want someone in a coma to be the first thing he sees. This will already be jarring enough."

"I'll set something up, sir," Emil told him.

Elnor wanted to stay to check on Hugh, but one look at Rios indicated he wasn't in the mood to deal with more than one person at a time, if even that. "I'll help you," Elnor said, "I don't think Captain Rios can handle much company right now."

He carefully picked Agnes up off the biobed as the two left. Cris's eyes followed them before they fell back onto Hugh's unconscious form, waiting for him to wake up.

___________

Translation:

"Ella tiene razón, Capitán," = "She's right, Captain," (Spanish)

"No es asunto mío." = "It's none of my business." (Spanish)

[ @iamselfmade ]

[authenticmiya]

Alone - Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Summary - Based on the song Alone by Heart, reader doesn’t know how to cope with Johnny putting all of his time into the dojo, and not into his marriage.

Words - 1.7k

Warnings - angst

The sparkles on your wedding ring could just about be seen as the moon lit up the apartment. Letting out a shaky yet frustrated sigh, the clock was still ticking, except this time, two hours had gone by. Johnny wasn't back, when was he ever back?

As it neared 1am, the debate of going to bed was playing on your mind, but there was no way you were going to sleep without talking to your husband, if he was that anymore.

"Come on Johnny, pick up." You sighed, trying not only his telephone at work but the stupid cell phone that you should've known he couldn't answer.

But not being able to use technology wasn't an excuse. It wasn't hard to keep a promise, in fact it wasn't hard to just not make the promise in the beginning. A knock on the door pulled you straight from your wandering thoughts. Looking through the peep-hole, you realised it was Miguel.

"Seriously kid." You groaned before opening the door. You loved him like a son, you really did, but you were not in the mood to socialise with anyone.

"Hi Mrs Lawrence, Sensei told me to tell you-" He began but you cut him off.

"Don't worry Miguel, this is the fourth time you've had to tell me that he's gotta do all of the paperwork, I get it. Thank-you." The sadness in your tone made Miguel feel bad.

"He's in the Dojo Mrs Lawrence, it's not my place to say but instead of waiting around for him to come home, why don't you just go down there?" Miguel suggested.

"I appreciate that kid, but I don't wanna start a fight." You admitted to the teenage boy, and you couldn't quite believe it because he hardly knew love himself.

"Fight for this love, you're badass." He chuckled before heading back over to his place. 1am and Miguel had only just left the dojo, so who knows when Johnny will be home. After the brief conversation, the time just went by extremely slow, but that didn't stop you from staying awake.

"I’m not having another night end with me being alone." You muttered, and it was as if god answered your prayers, because the keys jangled in the front door, and in stepped Johnny.

"Jesus Christ why are you sat in the dark babe?" Johnny laughed as he flipped the switch to the lights on.

"Till the moment I saw you them years ago, I had always got by on my own." You told him, twiddling your fingers as you sat on the couch. Johnny looked at you strangely, as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.

"I never really cared until I met you Johnny. Nobody cared for me, and I never cared for anybody. I spent years upon years, dreaming I'd marry a guy like you, and I got him in the end." There was no way you could cry in front of him.

"Listen if this is about me and the dojo, I really wanna spare that fight." Johnny sighed as he stood a distance away from you.

"Sometimes I reminisce on the good times we had. Before Larusso, before the alcohol, before this goddamn dojo Johnny." Now the words were just falling from your mouth.

"Don't mention that name under this roof again." He suddenly snapped, and now you had hit the nerve.

"How do I get you alone Johnny? Because I lost you the moment that asshole came back into your life. Don't try and sugarcoat it, please save me the bullshit. You're all I ever wanted and all I've ever had. Ever since Cobra Kai reopened, I don't see you. I wake up, you're not there, I go to sleep and you're still not there." It took a lot of courage to talk to him without getting mad, for nearly every argument that was made, was because of your attitude.

"You will always have me Y/N, but I have a business to run, I'm protecting these kids." Johnny swigged on his drink, also trying not to give you a nasty reaction.

"They're relying on me, they have nothing but karate to help them with their confidence, you would know if you were there." He suddenly came out with when you didn't reply.

"I'm relying on you too Johnny, you know your wife?" You began.

"And here she goes with the whole emotional card. Whatever." He rolled his eyes and turned towards the bedroom.

"'No I refuse to let you do this to me again. We need to talk about this." You grabbed his bicep.

"Every-time we try and talk, a certain somebody turns it into something that could've been avoided." Johnny said sarcastically.

"Yeah and you shrug it off like it's nothing." You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"That's bullshit and you know it Y/N, I don't need to be constantly reminded of shit that you get insecure about." Oh he had finally cracked into his frustrated and angry mode.

"So me missing you is being insecure? Sorry for committing a crime jackass." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Here she is, little miss childish, once again." Johnny slammed the door to your shared bedroom, now leaving you to decide whether to follow after him.

"Oh for fuck sake." You grumbled, opening the door. He was getting some clothes ready for what you presumed was for after he had showered.

"We have neighbours, you don't need to slam the door so loud." You finally spoke up again.

"I didn't know you could slam a door quietly." Johnny didn't look at you.

"What's going on with you? Please just talk to me Johnny." You felt like begging for a life time. You just wanted your husband back, even if it was just the extra kiss in the morning. But he wasn't talking to you.

"This is getting ridiculous Y/N." He groaned.

"No what's getting ridiculous is that you gradually built a dojo, but gradually pushed me to the side and I'm sorry if you think I'm childish, and that I start a fight with you for no reason. I don't mean to fight with you, we're meant to fight together for crying out loud." Johnny was listening to you but he wasn't responding.

"I never asked for this, I don't deserve this." Johnny stood up, grabbing a towel from the drawers.

"And you think I do? When was the last time you actually checked if I was okay?" Johnny didn't know what to say, he knew he hadn't been the best of husbands.

"Miguel stopped by today, actually ever since the dojo opened he's come by quiet frequently, telling me the usual that you're doing paperwork." You began.

"Also told me I was a badass who needed to fight for this love, but it takes two to fight, and right now, it's pretty clear that I'm the only one even fending for this marriage." A single tear dropped down your cheek but you refused to let him see it.

"I'll leave you to shower." You left the bedroom and decided that maybe tonight you should just keep your space from him. Deciding that sitting around doing nothing wasn't an option, you just decided to take the trash out. It wasn't really a normal thing to do in the earliest of hours in the morning, but it was something.

Johnny felt his heart stop when he heard the front door shut, something telling him that you were going to leave for the night and just not come back to him.

"Shit." He scrambled off the bed, completely throwing the thought of a shower out of his head.

"Y/N? Babe?" He called out, but he didn't know you were only just outside.

"Shit!" He shouted, grabbing his keys, ready to drive all lengths of the country just to bring you back. As he opened the front door, you were just heading back in.

"Please, just don't leave. We can talk this through, you can't leave me Y/N, I need you. God dammit I'm an asshole, I deserved everything you said to me just please come inside and we can talk it out, no arguing, no nothing." Johnny had his hands firmly on your shoulders.

"Why the hell would I leave you? I took the trash out." You told him, he glanced around back to the trash-can noticing how it was now empty, and had a huge sigh of relief.

"And besides don't you think I'd have been gone a long time ago if an argument was the reason we ever broke up?" You questioned him.

"Yeah I suppose you're right, you put up with a lot of shit huh?" Johnny took in your appearance for the first time, in such a long time.

The way your hair was just in a messy bun, the fact you were in one of his shirts and a pair of sweats. The Y/N he had fallen in love with, had been waiting for the affection she deserved and he simply hadn't realised how long she had gone without it.

"I'm sorry." He began.

"This isn't gonna happen again. You're not just gonna apologise and I'll melt into you. Johnny you've gotta mean it, you've seriously gotta mean it." You pleaded.

"Shall we order-" You cut him off.

"It's literally 2am and all I want right now, is to relax. We're both hotheaded and we need to be able to talk about things without getting riled up with each-other." You could tell he was listening to you very intently and without hesitation he lifted you up in a bridal fashioned way.

"This isn't what I expected but I'm not complaining." You chuckled as he shut the door with his foot. The two of you settled down on the bed together. 

"I love you." You told him, the argument slowly floating out of the window.

"I don't think you have any idea how much I love you." He sighed, pressing a firm, passionate kiss to your lips.

"We'll be okay won't we Y/N?" Johnny sighed, draping an arm across your waist.

"We'll be okay Johnny."

[jiminrings]

honestly i could talk w band!hobi abt numbers all day, like i wouldn't even mind. what are ur thoughts on 27 hobi? i think they a bad bitch. also UM might i request a drabble abt like a film major! yn (that is very enthusiastic abt films and the aesthetics + cinematography and whatnot) w like,,, a theatre kid?? any of ot7 works fine and it's all good if u can't or don't want to! thankyouu 💜

muse of mine

pairing: namjoon x y/n

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: namjoon’s always been a little sensitive to feedback whether it’s positive or negative, y/n’s an endearing type of talker, and smuggled snacks to the theater haven’t ever tasted this sweet :D // gif from pinterest!

notes: i kinda switched it up a lil bit and made them more established in their respective fields bc my mind went berserk on this concept!!! also this is mayhaps my oNLY piece that’s just pure fluff

“27? The number? Hmm. That sounds... sexy.” - band!hobi

this been’s bugging you for the past half hour

this whole experience feels oddly familiar

you’ve been in this theater for half an hour so far to watch this play!!

lmao ur gonna admit RIGHT off the bat that theatre’s definitely not it for you

your slight unfondness for it is deeply-rooted back to university and for four years, you’ve consistently taken dumps on theatre kids even if it’s under your breath

alright it’s possible that you don’t hATE the actual people ( only some of them ;D ) themselves but rather this whole type of cockiness and the “i’m a direct descendant of shakespeare himself. trust me bro. on god” energy that they always seem to exhude

but realistically, maybe this deep-rooted hate stemmed from seokjin

he was the guy you’d share the exact same elective class with him for two straight whole semesters and you’ve been seatmates from time to time

homie took foreign language as an elective?????

the language is korean?????????????????

“wait b-but i — aren’t you — n-no but i really???”

that’s what you first sputtered to him in realization when he took his seat beside you

the two of you have only ever shown each other notes bc the other was dozing off and the occasional sharing of gummy bears that’s already pre-opened to not make any noise

but for some reason, it’s only dawned in you why seokjin’s a god in this class and he answers your questions without even looking at his notes by hALFWAY through the whole semester of foreign language

one day, u are gonna find a way to bodyslam yourself and never recover from it ever again

“mhmm. don’t sweat it, sweetheart. i personally think it’s very don quixote of me to y’know, take something as impractical and amusing as this.”

you snort at his choice of words because honestly!! you barely remember don quixote and jin’s use of it as an adjective jigs up a refresher course on your brain

who was he again?? 

was he the donkey

.. or are you thinking about shrek again because of your film analysis

you sWEAR there was a donkey in that story

it’s good fun to talk with jin even if he keeps sliding bourgeoisie words here and there and you’re a lil confused with all these references that he makes but that’s okay !!!

atleast even him saying it in a long-winded way that he was like someone from the merchant of somewhere, you know now that he pretty-pleased and charmed his way to the registrar for him to take korean as an elective

...

two weeks later, jin sits next to you in class 

in ACTUAL non-elective, non-native language he already speaks class

now that you’re squinting a bit more, jin does look a little uh?? different

his hair that was once a hybrid of lavender and peach and pink and then blonde was now wholly black and it’s probably his original hair color because it matches with those eyebrows of his!!!

his combo of a black bomber jacket with a silk button-up underneath honestly SLAPS and it makes you forget how he used to exclusively wear only knitted shirts and argyle-patterned cardigans

you have ur jaw dropped because you totally would’ve fallen for seokjin jAW-FIRST 

— if only he didn’t strike you as the brother type when he smacked the back of your head because you were falling asleep on class again and uhhh you mUst be forgetting that the two of you were sitting in front

you had no time to reevaluate whether you should develop a crush for him or not 

he’s immediately slapping his hands on his knees, looking at you so intensely before pointing a finger at you with so much conviction, and then scoffing to himself

“switched majors to film. theatre was gonna be the death of me!!! y/n, if you even think about trying to switch to that cheap, amazon-ordered quill and tanning lights for stage lighting major, you’re absolutely dEAD to me-”

you’ve never had a conversation this striking nor long with jin but you genuinely have no complaints at all

seokjin talks pure shit about theatre and theatre junkies and everything in between for the WHOLE day 

trails beside you for every single class you had, which was convenient because he can then sweet-talk his way again (if anybody even dared to question him) that he’s just newly-switched 

sat with you for lunch and him not eating because he just needS to tell you all about it and you trying not to choke on your pasta as you try to reply to him

followed you back hOME and decided to crash the night there

yeah, that. your unfondness for theatre’s rooted on that one

uh-huh safe to say that you’ve become best friends with jin ever since that day

you’re a sponge for your friends and jin’s the closest one you have, so it was only natural that you soak up his distastes and whatnot

not to brag but aha :D

you add salt to the water while you boil pasta so u may be a little bit of a masterchef or somewhat, no big deal :D

he’s absorbed your fascination for all kinds of lights and fixtures that he has about seven different nightlights in the form of squishies or neon and everything else on his bedside table, in which he turns all of them on at night

fun fact: he’s capable of sleeping in the dark

jin’s the whole reason for your stance on this

he’s adamant about his points and you’ve graduated uni four years ago!!!

which is why you DON’T get why jin would give you a scented black envelope, with “don’t come to this” scribbled in gold at the front, carrying a single ticket to this play with a sticky note saying “don’t watch this at 7 pm, wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes, sitting at the ninth row from the back and two seats from your right.”

because of course!! what the hell did he expect you to do? NOT come to this play at 7 pm wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes then sitting at the ninth row from the back, two seats from the right???

OF COURSE YOU WOULD

your goal in life is to do exactly the opposite of what jin tells you. there’s literally nothing else in life you’d want to fulfill

he’s made it quite easy for you to spite him and although you wouldn’t admit it.,,.,., you may be a little petty ok

he’s the even bigger goof out of the two of you and you can never have the final say!! it’s always him and his wit and yOU being the dunce

it’s a lil sus that jin’s basically ASKING for it with his instructions but whatever

whatever it is, this is finally your chance to enact the final say and you’re gonna pull ALL the stops

all you know about theater-goers is that they dress fancy and wear these mini binoculars and that’s about it

there’s not even one film you know that you see anyone in the audience wearing a worn-in cardigan or even a puffer jacket even if the theater’s mad cold

all the people bring are scarves and shawls???? thee thinnest version of a blanket that won’t warm them up against the frigid airconditioning

that whole dress code sounds ridiculous!!! great please ring out this thousand-dollar dress im gonna wear to the theater thank u

you’re a little worried that you’re not gonna blend into the crowd, but after some digging about the invitation, formal wear is most definitely recommended

it’s an exclusive invite-only play which would be later released to the general public later on so yeah the situation dOES call for a gown thank u very much

also how could you forget that jin explicitly told you not to wear this type of attire

if you’re being humble right now, which you always normally are, even if that jUST sounded boastful talking about how you’re humble all the time —

you do look pretty breath-taking :-)

even when the doors weren’t opened and everyone’s just collectively loitering outside the hall, you’d feel glances at you

the sweet security guard did a double-take at you and mumbled a “very very nice evening to you, miss :D” instead of his normal “enjoy the show!” to the other patrons before you

you’re gonna soak all the silent compliments up and try to remember all of them before writing them on your journal later hee-hee

your midnight blue satin dress that’s floor-length and off-shoulder is dEFINITELY in your favor :D

your dress still glimmers even if the spotlight isn’t on you and you wish you weren’t shy to ask a random stranger to take a picture of you

going on self-timer isn’t ideal either when there’s like a hundred other people in the room

they probably wouldn’t even care if you took a picture of yourself!!! but in your head they probably think that you’re laughable so you’d rather not.. do that

the theater’s dark as hell if that wasn’t established

it is literally pitch black in the room and the ushers at each row holding the flashlights that are meant to guide the patrons aren’t exactly helpful

big kudos to them though,, must take a lot of self-control to not wave their lights like it was a rave :D

a flashlight tHAT bright?? whew pls is this what ships feel in the night

the last time you were in a rave, your thirty minutes of fun was cut short when seokjin immediately got hammered and wouldn’t stop throwing a fit if you didn’t drive him home that instant

his energy seemed to compelling everyone that he’s managed to somehow suck the energy out of a WHOLE rave so you took him home for everyone’s enjoyment :(((( except yours apparently

you’re trying hard to focus on the play that’s happening because for the past twenty minutes, all you’ve done is zone out randomly with ideas all of a sudden 

you NEED to listen

....

uh-huh...

UH-HUH......

wait this is actually.. good

you find plays hard to follow and absolutely boring when you don’t immerse yourself in a run-down PRIOR to watching it in order to get

it’s the same analogy as reading the plot of a movie on wikipedia before watching the movie at the cinema.... absolutely useless

it sucks out the fun from something you weren’t supposed to know

watching plays is two hours of you being confused, going home to read the plot and only understand it by tHEN, and never coming to the theater again because you’d waste your money.... watching something cluelessly in the theater..... for a plot you’d grasp at home

but no

because this one

actually this one that you’re watching...

it’s not bad

it’s nice, actually.

within two minutes, you managed to grasp that it’s a story about a never-ending spring between these two lovers

there’s something about the whole setting of it actually that just sucks you in

in some plays, the outfits would seem so forced even in the given context that it reminds you of uh a particular superhero movie

and yes ur aware that stage makeup has to be enhanced so that people all the way to the back row would see

but there’s just something in this scene that’s laid out right-now that actually gets you in awe

it’s of the couple in the back of their pick-up truck and everything about it seems so natural

the background straight up looks like what it’d be if you were to go outside

the guy’s arm around her shoulder seems so natural and in nature that it doesn’t feel like a random cue in the script

the girl twinkles and it doesn’t even feel like a forced type of laugh you’d cue in attempt to warm the audience’s hearts

it’s of a plot where the the guy eventually falls out of love with the girl, while girl gets even more smitten with the guy at the same time

it’s what you take from the past ten minutes that you watch in dead silence, and you don’t even remember in the back of your head that you’re supposed to hate plays

“no way.”

you mumble in disbelief under your breath, head shaking profusely

is your mind playing tricks on you???

you’ve got too used to seokjin sitting beside you that you immediately turn to your right, whispering out your concerns 

“is it just me or is she wearing a different shade of pink?”

you don’t even buffer for one second when you ask the stranger beside you

you’re so concerned that you’re looking at him intently while waiting for his answer that could either console or despair you, a random theater-goer that’s too noisy with her questions for her own good

it’s absolutely dARK as fuck in the theater but after awhile your eyes adjusted slightly

and the first thing you look at after the stage is him

him as in the dude in your right that you just asked all of a sudden

you could only see his silhouette and the faintest features of his face along with his well-dressed suit but god

... you are totally not lying if you say that even the barest silhouette of him doesn’t look handsome

you’re expecting him to tell you off for being so noisy but instead, he’s the one who takes you by surprise

“how did you notice that?” 

:O

“oh my god!” you exclaim almost too loudly that you yourself even jolts, the guy even making you duck with him slightly for a brief second, “im sO sorry!! am i accidentally spoiling it out for you?”

the guy blinks twice, lips slightly parted before shaking his head no

“no, no... this is the first screening — i mean uh, how would you know that?”

oh boy

you’re adjusting yourself on your seat, bum now warm as you try to explain and not be nervous because what if you just made a wrong assumption about this play and you’re sitting next to a goddamn tHEATRE BUFF???

“well i —uh, uhm what’s your name?” you’re flustered and the FIRST thing you ask is what was his name.,.,,

he seems equally as flustered before he adjusts his glasses, “o-oh uhm i’m namjoon...?”

alright! handsome guy is namjoon!

“you see, namjoon — okay it might just be in my head, but i tHINK it looks deeper with the light somehow. but uh...? the spotlight’s not following her and — is it just me or without the light, her sweater looks brown?”

you’re squinting and if u squint even more, maybe your contacts would just crumple by then

hold on a second

“brown, like — oh my gOD LIKE-”

namjoon puts a hand over his mouth before you could even gasp, hand reaching out for your forearm even before you manage to grasp his shoulder to take it in realization

was it under your nose the whole time??

“... fall.”

:D

holy fucking shit

namjoon looks positively euphoric looking at your face of realization, his once-heavy chest about the whole scene becoming completely devoid of weight

“exactly!!”

his confirmation makes you inwardly squeal, grinning as you point at him and the stage back and forth

“i think this is the first play i’ve become ever interested in watching.”

okay what now

his ears perk up at that, your first sentence that you’ve said after your pink sweater that looks like spring also looks brown like fall in certain scene because of the lighting realization

“it is?”

he takes the chance to look at you as best as he could, trying to play his squinting as cool as he can

namjoon’s far sighted and the glasses he’s wearing are nOT up to date with his current grade bc he’s pretty sure his eyesight’s worsened the past month

he can’t make you out wholly, but he does know that you’re pretty

his eyes don’t linger on you because of the snacks you’re fishing from your purse while you talk that are absolutely illegal in this theater house lmao

but instead, his gaze lingers on you because you’re so pretty

the minimal light that’s bouncing off the stage is enough for him to see a faint outline of your features, highlighting your smiles just right and your dress to glint underneath

“mhmm. i actually hate plays,” suddenly, you’re not scared if namjoon happens to be some sort of theatre buff and you’re offending him because honestly, you feel at ease. “crunch?” you’re holding out the mini bar of chocolate out to him, one he politely declines to because his eyes are bulging out the next second

“you do????”

his genuine reaction indulges you, making you grin ultimately that you put off eating snacks for now to focus on him

“yeah! this is my hate outfit :D”

namjoon giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard

you automatically scoot closer because this time, it’s yOUR turn to shush him

this is totally for just the reason of talking more discreetly and not distracting anyone and is totally not an excuse to be closer to the next guy and touch shoulders with him then get a whiff of cologne because it’s rare for a guy to be handsome and aLSO smell good

your eyes get used to the darkness and eventually, you could make out features of namjoon beside you

he has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen

and the way he looks at you makes you feel safe and even your height difference is visible with how probably lonG his torso is compared to yours, his gaze doesn’t make you feel small

namjoon’s still (unsurprisingly) far-sighted and ur so close that he’s a lil cross-eyed 

fuck it he’s gonna go to ophthalmologist FIRST thing in the morning tomorrow

“then why are you here?”

“my friend seokjin,” you lean back upon realizing the original reason why you’re here, the situation being so ironic that you puff out a smile

your friend’s named seokjin?

cool :D kim seokjin is namjoon’s of his favorite directors eVER!!

second best for him actually though.,., no one could quite compare to his first

your explanation makes him cackle several times, a swell of pride recounting why you hate (it’ll be past tense probably after this one) theatre 

“what about you?”

you turn the question to him, making his dimples disappear effectively that you think you’ve just spooked him

“i uh, well i always wanted to see a story that went like this, so i’m here.”

“you’re a critic? oh god. please don’t tell me you heard all my mumbles.”

no this is even WORSE

namjoon’s not a theatre buff

HE’S A CRITIC????????????

god im coming up

“don’t worry, i also think that the drapings must probably be dirty.”

he breaks out into a smile recounting how you were talking to yourself earlier, a snort escaping him involuntarily 

“RIGHT??? it’s like how do you even clean them?? do they fit in washing machines or-”

my god he’s such a nice guy!!!

in fact, he’s everything you want in a guy

you’ve went through atleast twelve facets of emotions for the past hour and you’re not even dating!!!!!!!

“my thoughts exactly!! and if it’s by hand, how do you even scrub the entirety of it?? or wring the water out??”

namjoon KNOWS exactly what’s up :’)

“is there even a clothesline that’d bEAR the weight??”

the two of you are so happy that you just look at each other laughing, a moment in time before namjoon nudges you to lean back because the ending’s happening

you don’t even question him how he’d know that it’s the ending and not just another opening to a new scene, just listening to him

you’re so happy

the play made you happy but namjoon made you even happier :-)

“if you are a critic, you should probably open up your review with this chatty play-hating girl beside you, then at the end, close it off with how she loves it.”

it’s the parting conversation as you realize and holy fuck you are nOT ready for it

you r gonna drag this out for as long as you could <3

......

and namjoon wants in too <3

“noted. if i was a playwright, i’d even make you the lead. which detail should i include? offering me wrapper-covered rice crispy snacks, or asking how you’d watch it while going thru the bathroom?”

this feels so natural

as natural as the couple in the play you’ve just finished watching :))

“you’re hilarious,” you’re not even the slightest bit annoyed and your restrained smile tells him all about it

yea you may have brought in snacks illegally but you aRE gathering your trash up as you’re a decent human being

namjoon wishes you’d pick up after yourself slowly, standing up from his seat as he has the plan of picking up trash that isn’t even his

“what name should i put then?”

you’re silent and oh god he thinks you found his company stupid and would definitely not give him your name

you’re not ignoring him though!!!

his words are still stuck in your head, realizing it lately with his “which detail should i include?”

“me wanting to turn this into a film, actually.”

you test the words out on your tongue, nodding to yourself after a few seconds that you seem so sure of it

“yeah. i wanna make it into a film.”

the lights turn on after being dim for so long, namjoon’s eyes going wide trying to digest what you’ve just said

“w-what?

.....

no fucking way

HOLY FUCKING SHIT SWFRWFBWRHGBRBVWRV SWBHJSDB SHJAVBHGJDS BWHRGHBSVWBGRH

namjoon’s malfunctioning as he’s looking at you from eye to eye, bottom lip trembling while he’s so keen at pointing at you

“y-you’re miss y/n!!”

....

right

oH RIGHT

he’s a fan of yours??

namjoon’s fanning his face because he’s about to literally burst into tears

how could he nOT???

how could he not be emotional when all along, he’s been talking to his number one favorite director????

you and your films are the absolute gems of his life namjoon’s not even kidding

your films were world-renowned for being so natural and sentimental without loading too much into it!!!! you’re known for being so humble through the multiple back-to-back awards and praise you get!!!! 

he cannot calm the fUCK down when you’re rubbing circles on his back

“you w-want to turn my play into a film?”

oh my gOD

you’re fumbling for the envelope and it’s only nOW that you realize that it’s not from seokjin in the first place

spring day a play by kim namjoon an invite for director y/n y/l/n

“it’s you!!!!”

“no it’s YOU!!”

jin’s plan worked alright :D

he’s just FOUR rows behind you lmao

it was just two weeks ago when yoongi, the executive producer of his film that he was directing, let it slip that he was co-financing a play

he met yoongi some semesters later after he became close with you, and he’s aLSO converted yoongi into hating theatre then he fit right in to your little posse of theatre kid-hating film students

that gave jin the laugh of his laugh and yoongi was not joking at all

“no, no. i’m telling you man. it’s different! i even have the script that i’ll let you read.”

and holy shit it IS different

if you see a couple tears on the last seven pages of yoongi’s copy of spring day’s script then mind yo oWN fucking business

then two weeks later, here he is :D

jin managed to also convert you to love theatre even IF it is namjoon’s play that did all the work

( also coincidentally found you a future boyfriend because he’s tired of seeing you alone and the closest you’d get to having someone is projecting your yearning into writing the scripts for the films you’d make )

he’s also secretly co-financed the whole play along with yoongi and he’ll drop that bomb later on lmao

“and that must mean i looked like a total FOOL beside you oh my god im so sorry!!”

namjoon panics at that, about to cry when another realization hits him when he’s about to put his head on his hands

“then that means the friend who gave you the ticket was-”

SEOKJIN VBFHSBVHSFBVSFHDVBSJFV SFJVJSFVSJVSSV SSV V FS FSV SFBVRBVRSVSWVGU

he cries to your shoulder and you never expected to be hugging and consoling someone you’ve just met two hours ago, a more than fond smile on your face he takes advantage of when he sneaks in the chance to ask you

“do you mean that?”

“now why would i lie to the playwright who’s been listening to me talk shit, then theorizing, then crying for the past hour?”

it’s true though

namjoon’s seen it all

he’s still handsome as ever even when he sniffles, his dimples on display when you return his question

“now did you mean it? writing me into your play?”

why are you even ASKING

:D

he’s the biggest fan of u

namjoon’s made notes of your work, dedicated scripts to your movies, and he’s thinking about how it’s not yet hitting you how your whole epiphany about the pink sweater turning brown on his play,,, was entirely inspired from you and your affinity for lighting in your films

he thinks it’s still a little early to kiss you on the cheek even if you’ve already hugged, instead settling on pinching your cheek with satisfaction present in all corners

“you’ve always been my muse.”

[heir-of-talon]

So I have commissioned these busts of the characters. I will post a bust of the person whose POV the chapter is written in ❤ Some may be spoilery but hey! It's just fanfiction 😉

HEIR OF TALON 2

Warnings: explicit/underage/violence

Summary:

After slaying Elder Wyrm and becoming CEO of Talon Ember works very hard. Slowly changes are creeping in, that threaten her relationships with Garret and Riley, her sense of self and her sanity.

Life at the top

Ember

I woke up with a yelp. The bed sheets and my shirt were rumpled and soaked through with sweat. I reached for a glass of water on the night stand and drank trying to wash away tightness in my throat tasting salt of my tears mingling with contents of the glass. It was just another nightmare I tried to calm myself, but at this point I had little doubt that these were true. As was ensuing weeks of captivity, when Gerard found more and more horrid ways to torment Ember after he learned, that she could heal quickly from injuries that would have killed anybody else. His lord and his men, formed a group around her, torturing her and slowly learning her secrets... Bloodlettings so they could bathe in her blood and become resistant to harm and disease. She has suffered it all without even feeling tempted to shift, because there inside her... a spire, only remaining reality of her happiness, of their destiny. No, she could still salvage him, she would endure and once he was out of her body she would shift and fly them both away to safety, to another world if need be, there was nothing she would not do for him, her little Dante. Her love though betrayed so cruelly have found new anchor and she would preserve.

And then... birth of their child, ten men with swords and kludges awaiting, hitting her, bleeding her and Gerard... he tossed his son into flames right after he nearly ripped him from her body amid her agonizing cries.

Hatred. All consuming, all destroying all mighty. She shifted and ripped them apart limb for limb, the men, the women, the children, anyone within the vicinity of the estate. She had nothing left for humans, the vile, cruel, mindless creatures...

These dreams always filled me with grief and despair. But I was not her. Or was I? Sometimes I was not sure anymore. I would better get up, it was going to be another long day.

Vipers were resisting my changes to the organisation and demanded to be allowed to form their own organization apart from Talon, my bare ass! I tossed my shirt aside and hurried to bathroom where I laid down in the bathtub and turned the water on. As warm water crept higher and higher covering my body I relaxed and garish details of the nightmare started to fade. My thoughts were sharp and clear again. No way I was going to relinquish control of Vipers, I will sooner get them all killed. But how do you do this exactly? The only way is to get them to kill one another and then maybe set the last one up to a surprise date with the Order? This would require some serious diversion though, to make sure they accept the orders and don't figure out the game too soon... Hmm maybe later, as the last instance, for now I would rather regain their obedience. Hot water have filled the tub to the brim and I ceased to think giving up to the utter delight of being submerged in relaxing warmth.

***

"Autumn and Cobalt are here to see you ma'am" my assistant's Rose voice sounded through intercom. "Let them in" I grunted, not at all happy. After momentary relief in the bath I have developed a nasty headache and painkillers did not really work on dragons. I was not sure if dragons should have headaches, I have not been sick one hour of my entire life before I have become CEO of Talon.

"Hello Firebrand, you look positively awful, what the hell happened to you?" Riley strode to my office and unceremoniously sat on a chair in front of my enormous desk pulling another chair closer and indicating for Autumn to sit next to him. This irritated me, I was the CEO, this was my office and he come without notice and behaved as he owned everything here. "I had a hard night" I said slowly "so this better be important" I gave them a tight smile.

"It's about my egg" Autumn said. "It's in hatchery now, and I don't want my baby to hatch there. I want him to be born free, not to spend his childhood in an isolated facility being drilled by Talon like we did." She talked calmly and was obviously at ease, while her ridiculous request literally made me seething inside. I waited till she was finished and replied. "How do you imagine to hatch a dragon egg and then rear a hatchling, unable to shift for two years and to stay reliably shifted for another ten in the middle of human society?" I asked calmly. "How are you going to feed it until it can shift? How are you going to avoid it being seen?". Autumn stared at me surprised by coldness in my voice.

"Easy Firebrand, this is why we came here. To find alternative solutions for these... challenges" Riley's voice was calm but he was now watching me with slightly narrowed eyes and I could hear him thinking hard. But I could not let Autumn take that egg away. These four eggs was all the organization had left. We've sustained substantial loses when the laboratory exploded, every dragon counted for survival of our race. "We were thinking about it for quite a while actually. There's four eggs that need to be reared. There probably won't be any new for some time now, as Talon's members will no longer be forced to mate and dragons breed extremely rarely on their own volition, being immortal, territorial and such. So we just need to provide these four hatchlings with a place to be in two years. It should not be that difficult..." "Oh you've got it all figured out, don't you!?" I cut him off. I was furious at his shortsighted sentimentality. "And who is going to provide these hatchlings with education and training? Their mothers, who's never set their foot outside of the breeding facility?!" Autumn looked as if I've hit her, but I didn't care. These hatchlings were important for the organization, now that the vessel program was abandoned. If they were raised outside of the organization will any of them wish to serve it? Will they even be suitable for our purposes? "What are you talking about?" Riley was furious now. "They will be instructed and influenced by our entire community. Just because you won't have total control over every moment of their lives, doesn't mean they will not turn out just fine". He took stunned Autumn by her hand and rose to his feet. "Come, we've must have caught ma'am CEO on a bad day." And then to me. "Do not think that you've heard the last of it Firebrand. This is important, this is the freedom we've been fighting for all this time. And I will not relent, just because you get to be the boss now!" He left with scared Autumn in tow leaving me to my headache and grim thoughts.

I pressed intercom button. "Rose? I am taking off the rest of the day. Tell the Archivist to schedule new date for meeting with Vipers" "Yes, ma'am." I dragged myself out of the office and staggered when the heat and sunshine of the day outside hit me. I could not remember being out in a middle of a day. Ruling Talon was consuming all my time and energy and throughout last few months I begun to see the point of the control and discipline within the organization, as dealing with Riley's rouges, Jade and other free spirits was clearly the most annoying part of my new situation. I could not remember the drive home. To a vast top floor apartment furnished by Rose to impress an empress as she has phrased it. I had no time to interfere and only added piles of discarded clothes to the setting. And these were cleared every day by a maid. So I entered my lavish suite kicked off my ballerinas, flopped on white leather sofa and closed my eyes.

***

I woke up with a start that made it clear, that my headache was still there. It was evening and someone was knocking on my door. I insisted on no Gilas in the building I lived in, just as I insisted on living among normal, if wealthy people, rather than in a fancy all Talon apartment complex few blocks from the HQ. Now I was suddenly reluctant to open the doors. "Ember?! Are you in there?" Garret. I sighed and dragged myself to the doors. "Hello commander" I tried to smile. "Come in and fix this shitty day". He did not smile just stepped over the threshold taking in my surely messy hair, crumpled suit and tired face. "What is wrong?" He asked dropping his duffel bag at the doors and pulling me into strong embrace. I closed my eyes breathing him in and feeling my headache and confusion melting away. But after a way too brief moment he pushed himself away to arms length and looked into my eyes. "What is going on Ember? You look so tired. And you missed the meeting today, the Archivist would not tell us anything, but Rose told me you went home feeling unwell so I come to check up on you."He said. "Wait a minute. What meeting?!" I felt an ugly suspicion rising. "Meeting with Vipers." He looked surprised and worried that I would ask. "The Archivist spoke in your name and got them in line, no worries. They are allowed to leave the organization under a long list of conditions, that shortly sums up to not killing, assaulting or terrorizing anyone ever and attending monthly meetings with their rehabilitation supervisors, new units consisting of one Talon employee and one Order's employee. Of course the agreement is only valid after you've approved it. From the looks on their faces no one is leaving for some time." He smiled to his thoughts.

I had plans for Vipers and this was not exactly what I would have gone for. I should be furious about Archivist bypassing me like that. But somehow it did not matter much. No, when Garret was here I was just relieved and thankful that things were taken care of. Suddenly I could breath freely and I thought that if only I could stay in his arms long enough I would heal and become whole again, the way I was before leaving Talon and the violent time that followed. I leaned in to kiss him and he answered crushing me to his chest. Then he lifted his head again and asked "Have you eaten?" Seemingly abandoning the topic of my bad looks. "No, I slept since noon. " Suddenly I could feel how hungry I was but at the same time I did not want to release him. "How about we order some tapas and eat here?" I pointed to the couch. He peered down at me and truly smiled for the first time since he saw me and I had a hard time trying to stay focused. There was my Garret, this intoxicating mixture of desire and disbelief in his gray eyes. "Give me a second to change, make yourself at home commander. Maybe order food, I want wine boiled chorizo, meat balls with tomato sauce and bacon wrapped dates big pile of each."

I winked at him and rushed to my bedroom and beyond to the walk in closet the size of an average apartment on Manhattan, as the real estate agent described it. There I quickly shed my office clothes and changed into oversized multicolor sweatpants and a knitted crop top. I turned and felt sudden apprehension about going back to the living room. My headache was on its way back and I just wanted to run as far away from Garret as possible, I sat on a chaise long in the middle of the closet. The boy was a nuisance putting it mildly, making me reckless and weak. The thoughts popped in and out of my head along with a passing stab of migraine until I heard his voice coming from somewhere close.

"Ember?" I exited the closet and found him standing at the doorstep to my bedroom. He quickly stepped outside, when he saw me, and I rushed to grab his hand. He sent me that worried look again. "Are you all right?" "Yes, was just changing." He looked me over doubtfully. "Food is here." He said. "Wow, that was fast." I chuckled slightly confused.

We ate talking about things we've been doing since we've last seen each other almost a month before. Garret got in touch with Order's Academy and tried to persuade them to provide much needed reinforcements sooner, than they meant it was possible. More and more survivors of Night of Fang and Fire surfaced all around the world and it was difficult to maintain his position as their leader. I sat buried neck-deep in documentation on Talon, that the Archivist deemed best suited to give me insight and understanding of Talon. I was also struggling to establish satisfactory level of authority. In other words both our lives sucked badly and we could not see the end of it. Afterwards I turned on some music and we went to the couch. Garret sat down in one corner and I nestled between his legs leaning sideways against his chest. I wanted to touch him, kiss him talk some more.

***

"Ember, better go to bed it's past eleven." Garret was shaking my arm lightly. Have I fallen asleep? Again!? "Don't leave me!" I blurted. "Stay with me Garret". He shifted under me. "My leg is sleeping. " He said and tried to stretch. "Let's go to bed then." I rose and he followed collecting his bag from the floor by the doors. I pointed him to guest bathroom and hurried to my own to brush my teeth. Then I slipped into the closet to change into shorts and oversized t-shirt with Toothless serving as pajamas. As soon as I slipped them on I rushed out and waited for Garret in the hall. He come out soon wearing only black boxer shorts, he was lean and tan, his hair bleached by the sun.

I felt my stomach twist with longing and dread, at the sight of him. I wanted him so much, yet I did not feel fit for passionate lovemaking. I was tired and haunted, Talon required things of me, that I doubted, he would accept. Going on like this was a torment for both of us, but we could not see any alternatives right now and I would not accept ending the relationship either. Garret was the only ray of sun in my existence, he loved me and I needed him, completely and desperately. Around him I was myself, battered and wan but myself, when he was gone I did not know who I was anymore.

I strode to him and hugged him tightly, which he returned with a purr. Then I caught his eyes and said solemnly "Garret I love you and I want to be close, but I have not been feeling well lately... And I know, that we don't see each other much, but I can't go all the way tonight. Actually I... might not want to do anything tonight" I felt lame, but he brushed hair off my temple, his expression soft. "It's okay. We are not obliged to do anything Ember. Let's get you to bed." He lifted me up and carried me to my bed, that was neatly made with fresh linens. He put me on the floor and lifted the comforter for me to crawl in. I laid down obediently and patted the pillow next to me. Garret slid under the covers beside me and the warmth of his body engulfed me as he put his arm around me and turned the bed lamp off. In the relative darkness of my bedroom with Garret so close all worries and problems seemed insubstantial, only his heartbeat was real, only the scent of his body and the warmth of his skin mattered. For the first time in weeks I fell into deep dreamless sleep.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

to be selfish

(in which plans are ruined, sparks fly, and selfish, selfish choices are made)

based on this prompt by @alltheprettygirlsintheworld!

id also like to thank @alltheprettygirlsintheworld for always reblogging my writing and leaving kind comments!! your support means the world to me 💕 i hope this fic is at least somewhat like what you were looking for!

~*~

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong.

Luck of the devil, Crowley supposed, though by that he meant he had the worst luck in history.

The picnic had been rained out, the Bentley had broken down, and even after miracling the poor car back into shape, Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten stuck in a line of traffic that hadn't moved whatsoever in the past fifteen minutes.

Worst of all, Crowley's plan had also been completely and utterly ruined. 6000 years of waiting washed down the drain. Quite literally, too.

Damn thunderstorm.

Needless to say, the demon was not in a cheerful mood.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale murmured. An open book was resting on his lap, though even out of the corner of his eye Crowley could tell the angel wasn't reading it.

He sighed. "Not your fault. Last I checked, angel, you can't control the weather."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, I am sorry it rained." Aziraphale closed his book after tucking a bookmark between the pages. "I'm sorry you're so disappointed, my dear. I know how much effort you put into planning this. Finding the right spot, and preparing the food yourself and all." His chewed on his lip. "Is there anything I can do, or say to - to cheer you up?"

Crowley chuckled, leaning back into his seat and turning to offer the angel a soft smile. Traffic wouldn't be moving anytime soon. He could afford to take his eyes off the road for a few seconds. "You can agree to come on a picnic with me whenever it's not raining."

Aziraphale beamed at him, and Crowley's heart jumped into his throat, as it so often did when his angel smiled. "That sounds lovely, my dear. I'd be delighted to join you again."

Crowley absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the conversation passed. He frowned. "You do know, angel, that you don't have to apologize for anything. I should be the one saying sorry for not checking the weather report before we left."

A tiny smile crept onto Aziraphale's lips. "I suppose we're both apologizing for things we don't need to, then."

"I guess we are."

Silence fell between them. The Bentley inched forward as rain pattered softly on the roof. Lightning flashed a brilliant purple in the sky, followed by a deep echo of thunder.

Aziraphale finally said with a huff, "Oh, just spill it, Crowley. It is not like you to be so - so mute when it comes to a few cancelled plans. Especially something like this. What are on Earth are you not telling me?"

Crowley's grip tightened on the steering wheel. This was not a topic he wanted to discuss. Not now, at least. Not without preparation. He didn't dare turn to look at Aziraphale. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"My dear, you are radiating dejection. It's almost smothering! Why can't you just be honest with -" Aziraphale cut himself off with a shuddering sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was even. Gentle. "Please. Tell me what's wrong."

Crowley's gaze remained steadfast on the road in front of him. "Nothing's wrong. I would tell you if there was a problem."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't. You never talk about your feelings. Not with me."

Crowley stiffened so sharply at the angel's words that he nearly snapped off part of the steering wheel.

"Good Lord!" Aziraphale exclaimed, startled by his abrupt reaction. "What was that all about?"

Crowley didn't respond, praying the angel wouldn't connect the dots.

(Then again, since when had God ever listened to his prayers?)

"Feelings," Aziraphale murmured. He blushed. "I'm going to make an educated guess, my dear, that you were planning to talk about... Our relationship."

Crowley bit back a sigh. Now it wasn't even worth trying to change the subject. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Not like it matters anymore." A lie. "Don't know if you noticed, angel, but whatever I might or might not have planned has gone to shit now."

Aziraphale chuckled. "It's not that bad." He reached over, gently cupping Crowley's cheek before slowly turning the demon's head to face him. "Look at me, my dear."

Crowley was distinctly aware of how red his face had to be. Extremely embarrassing. "But traffic -"

"- won't be moving for another hour. We both know that."

He hated it when the angel had a point. He sighed, reluctantly taking his hands off the steering wheel and turning so his body also faced Aziraphale. "Okay. I'm looking at you."

"Now tell me what you planned to say at the picnic."

Crowley exhaled, though it sounded more like a hiss. "I can't."

Aziraphale frowned. "Why not?"

"I just can't, angel!" he snapped. "I don't know what the hell I was going to say." Not entirely a lie. He didn't have a speech prepared or anything. All he'd wanted to do was hold the angel's hand and - and see what happened after that.

He couldn't risk going too fast.

Aziraphale softened. He had an uncanny way of knowing when the demon was being honest. "Alright. Then I'll tell you what I planned to say."

Calling that an unexpected reply would have been an understatement. Crowley somehow managed to nod in response.

Aziraphale fiddled with his pinky ring, taking a deep breath before he began. "I know that you love me, my dear, though I also know you would never allow yourself to admit that out loud. I can feel your love. I've felt it since - well, since the beginning, I suppose. But I have never said that I love you, dear boy. And since there's no time like the present..." He bit his lip. "I love you, too, Crowley. So very, very much. And I have for far longer than I dare to admit."

Inside, Crowley was already aware of this. He couldn't detect love like angels could, but he was no idiot. And Aziraphale had never been good at hiding his feelings. Eyes were windows to the soul, after all.

"And - And I'm sure you're wondering why I waited so long to say anything," Aziraphale continued. "But I was afraid, Crowley! Afraid of what Hell would do to you if they ever found out about - about us." He stared at the demon, and Crowley's heart clenched as he saw tears glistening in the angel's eyes. "For me... I knew that if I Fell, I Fell. So be it. But for you the only consequence would have been complete destruction! I couldn't risk that something horrible happened to you because of my - because of my selfishness."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Your selfishness?"

Aziraphale managed a weak laugh. "Yes. Me, selfishly wanting to be with you. To be able to love you without worrying about any of the consequences. Just... Us."

Crowley didn't know how to respond. Or maybe it was the lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. Either way, he was silent.

"But I've had enough of the - the bullshit from our head offices. I'm allowed to be selfish every once in a while! And I don't care if that makes me unangelic!" Aziraphale reached out to take Crowley's hands in his. "I'm ready to go as fast as you want, Crowley. Anywhere you go, from Earth to Alpha Centauri, I will be there. With you. Even if that means you end up driving this blasted car a hundred miles over the speed limit."

Crowley chuckled, squeezing the angel's hands. Everything he'd ever wanted to hear was finally being said, but now that the moment had come, he could hardly process it. "Angel," he finally whispered, "I think... I think I might be in love with you."

Aziraphale laughed, freeing one of his hands to reach up and wipe away tears trickling down his face. "Think? My dear, I know you are."

Time stood still as Crowley took off his sunglasses and tossed them into an empty cupholder before slowly leaning towards Aziraphale, his head tilted, eyes shut, and his lips parted ever so slightly -

Then he hesitated.

There is no "our side"!

I don't even like you!

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

He couldn't do it.

"Dammit," he muttered, letting his head fall and come to rest on the angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," was Aziraphale's reply before he lifted Crowley's chin and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was gentle. Tender. And hesitant, neither wanting to rush the other. It was a kiss filled with patience and 6000 years of waiting, a kiss burning with passion and 6000 years of longing. Perhaps there was even a bit of temptation.

(Who was doing the tempting, well, neither could say.)

The kiss was broken when the car behind them blared its horn, startling the both of them.

"Bastard," Crowley muttered as he drove the Bentley less than a car-length forward. "As if moving up five feet really makes a difference."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Humans always have places to be and things to do."

"Yeah, well, if he really needs to be somewhere, he might as well get out of his car and start walking."

"I suppose we're lucky we don't have plans."

Crowley snorted. "You may not have plans, angel, but I do."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Really? What plans do you have?"

Crowley smirked. "I was planning to convince you to be selfish and kiss me again. Preferably more than once."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, though Crowley didn't miss the small smile dancing on his lips. "Oh, you're ridiculous."

"Mm. I know. And you love it."

"Well..." He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I do."

(Although, as it turned out, his angel didn't need much convincing. It was also no coincidence that the Bentley started to play "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" on repeat - and refused to stop. Some things, it seemed, were simply fated to be. A little selfishness never did harm anyone, after all.)

~*~

[punkscowardschampions]

Nancy & Rio

Nancy: Hey Nancy: how's all the prep going? Rio: Oh my God Rio: it feels good to talk to someone over the age of 12, put it that way Rio: its getting there but I might not 🤪🥴😵 Nancy: same cos Buster's acting like a 5 year old rn Nancy: I wish I was there helping Rio: Travelling brings out the worst in 'em Rio: if I have to see an airport with mine this year, too soon 😬❌ Rio: we could use your 👀 Rio: I'm sure there will still be shit to do when you all get here Nancy: Did your dad convince your mum about a honeymoon though? Nancy: Asking cos I wanna steal you away for a while Nancy: When I get there I'm gonna have so many 📷 to set up and take but I'll definitely make time for any finishing touches there are Rio: 😘😘😘 Rio: s'more convincing nan and granddad that your parents and the rest will help out controlling the masses whilst they're off 🎔☽ Rio: a reason we can NEVER find a babysitter 🙄 Nancy: Oh come on! If my mum gets involved they'll be perfect 😇s Rio: 😂 Rio: I'd be happy to test the theory Rio: going to be so good to see you again! Nancy: Me too if it'd get her off my back 🙄 Nancy: I've missed you so much! Rio: Uh-oh, what's the latest crusade with her? Rio: Girl, same! So much catching up Nancy: Who can keep track? This week it's something about how I spend too much time in my room Nancy: Like doesn't she realise I don't sleep in a cell? I have everything I need Rio: Right? Rio: At least we're past grounding, was such a laughable punishment when its not the 50s or something, please Nancy: malted milkshakes and jukeboxes yes, the rest of the 50s, no Rio: But you'd look so fetching in a circle skirt 😉 Rio: what are you wearing though Rio: I've been so busy making sure the kids are actually clothed that I'm not remotely ready, ugh Nancy: Also less likely to be hatecrimed when it's just gals being pals 😉 Nancy: [a pic of her outfit cos we don't have one yet gang] Nancy: oh my god if you're not joking dad better start speeding! You really need my help ASAP Rio: Don't rub it in, or I'll be at the back of the bus heckling you Rio: me and all MY #sistas Rio: 😍 you look so good, I'll ignore your white feminism if you tell him to step on it Nancy: 😳 x 10000 like Nancy: But I'll demand it Rio: 🧡 Rio: Its a mood, catch me stealthing down the aisle at the back, please, steal the show, kids Nancy: 💚 Nancy: Honestly I feel nervous & I don't have to do the walk/nobody's gonna be looking at me Rio: Awh, don't be Rio: Honestly, everything is so extra, no one will know where to look Rio: you know them Nancy: I was safe to assume that Junie isn't answering me cos he's 😳 x 10000000 then, yeah? Rio: No doubt Rio: I can't even find him to tell him to reply Rio: if I spot him Nancy: It's fine I'll see him soon anyway Rio: God bless him Nancy: I need out of this car now & away from all of them Rio: I can feel the tension from here, babe Nancy: If he spends another sec on speaker talking to his friends about last night's party I will have to throw his phone out of the window Rio: Eww Rio: your brother is 1000% gonna be THAT businessman on the train that wants everyone to hear his convo Nancy: I know Rio: then pops a few blood vessels when someone tells him otherwise Rio: you poor thing, forreal Nancy: He got into a fight at the party over some girl 🙄 But of course the other lad was the only one hurt Nancy: How am I related to this idiot? Rio: How have your parents not turned the car around or at least threatened to Nancy: He doesn't wanna come which means he is, no matter what Nancy: Even if he was 🤕 Rio: Also do you live in Chelsea or a bad American teen drama Rio: the dramatics 😂 Nancy: Right? But it's me getting lectured by my mother regularly Nancy: your favouritism is showing again Rio: We all like you better, don't worry babe Nancy: thanks Nancy: if your parents wanna adopt me, now is good Rio: What's one more is pratically the family motto so why not Rio: you'll have to miss all the WILD parties and the even wilder bants Rio: reckon you'll survive? Nancy: just about Rio: Be honest Rio: if I go to town right now, what are the odds of the kids staying semi-presentable? Nancy: It'd be single figures Nancy: like 5% maybe Rio: Yeah Rio: but even less chance of me getting something wearable if I ask my boy to bring something with him, right? Nancy: Unless he's very fashion forward Nancy: You could tell him to go to ours and raid my wardrobe? Rio: Such a humblebrag, Nancy McKenna 😏 Nancy: If you don't want my advice or designer labels, don't ask, like Rio: 😂 Rio: how is it possible I have nothing suitable in my whole ass wardrobe Nancy: This family has had a surprisingly few weddings in our lifetime Nancy: & there's no chance of you re-purposing what you wore to my parents' big day all those years ago so Nancy: I'll make a detour and pick something up for you Nancy: if you trust me Rio: The amount of sin is truly unholy Rio: my grandma be 😠 at all these heathens Rio: and that feels like forever ago Rio: dread to think what I was rocking but at least I was cute Nancy: So 😢 I couldn't bring a date to meet your grandma she sounds lovely Nancy: [finds a pic of the baze wedding like] Nancy: you were the cutest! Look! Rio: Love the sinner, hate the sin, sweetie 😘 Rio: Oh lord Nancy: Says you but what happened to ME? Nancy: I'm like a different person rn and it's not a glow up Rio: Shh, you look beautiful, are you kidding Nancy: I look like my parents are into medieval torture & put me on a rack Nancy: not cute Rio: Oh 'cos being tall is so unappealing Rio: all those leggy supermodels, YUCK Nancy: 😂 Rio: Anyone saying different is obviously jealous Nancy: How very teen drama Nancy: the girl who hates me really loves me 💋 Rio: better start loudly talking about that Rio: your 'rents will be so proud Nancy: They aren't likely to hear me over Buster's dramatic playlist 🎶 Rio: Now you're just making shit up 😂 Nancy: [records him as proof hey boy hey looking like a moody fuckboy snack over there no doubt] Rio: He really did just look at the window like a music video, huh Rio: also praying you make it here unmurdered now, girl 🙏🤞 Nancy: He wouldn't dare start a fight with us in our finery 👗👠 mum & dad would kill him Nancy: or I could with the 👠 Rio: Gotta stay favourite, yeah Nancy: definitely Rio: catch me being no ones 'cos I'm not coming Rio: see you tomorrow, like 👋 Nancy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo Nancy: you have to Nancy: don't leave me with my evil twin Rio: 😩 but Rio: so over this before its begun Nancy: please Ri Nancy: I'll make it fun somehow Rio: There's no escape anyhow Rio: so many people here already just 👀 @ me Rio: I'm not putting on a fucking poofy dress I'm sorry Nancy: you don't have to Nancy: bridesmaid but keep it fashion Rio: I tried on some actual bridesmaid dresses but I felt so stupid Rio: why is it all floor-length and fucking Rio: the excess material Rio: I don't wanna drown in tulle, I'm not 5 Nancy: gross Nancy: I promise to never get married first of all Nancy: second of all I'm gonna make sure you look 🔥 today so Rio: 🧡🧡🧡 Rio: I've got to start on the drinks now though, sorry Nancy: show me what's in your wardrobe & I'll try & remember what's in mine Rio: I love you but you remember what I said about floor-length? Nancy: okay okay just yours then Nancy: come on, I can do this Rio: [does] Rio: but honestly, fuck it Nancy: there's so much I could make work Nancy: & no reason for us both to hate our outfits Rio: I won't hate it, I'll just be hated Rio: mainly by my grandma 💁 Nancy: as soon as Buster arrives his attitude will pull focus Nancy: plenty to keep your grandma busy in this car Rio: He'd never be that nice to me Rio: even unintentionally Nancy: I will then Nancy: thinking of a scene to cause as we speak Rio: 😏 Rio: such a shame there'll be no hot girls there you aren't related to 💔 Nancy: if only hitchhikers were still a thing Rio: So predatory for a 13 year old Rio: flip that script honey Nancy: it's the lesbian way Nancy: ask every girl at my school Rio: Ugh, turning their backs in the changing room is it? Rio: like half of 'em have got anything to hide, people are ridiculous Nancy: Yeah Rio: Its more than that then Nancy: It's not a story for today Rio: Later Rio: when you've caught up Nancy: when I've taken my make up off maybe Nancy: it took a really long time Rio: it looks 🔥 Nancy: it's not too much, right? You'd tell me Rio: Of course Rio: but it so isn't, its great Nancy: thanks Nancy: a benefit of doing it in February, our faces won't melt off & I'm not sunburnt Rio: They've thought of you at least Rio: love that Nancy: I'll try & remember to thank them too, like Rio: Thank whichever God made you gay too Rio: boys are such dicks Nancy: I got stuck with a brother so I'd still suffer Nancy: probably won't 🙏 Rio: Well you can ignore him Rio: sure you both prefer it that way Nancy: You can ignore any boys you want Nancy: or don't want Rio: Nah Rio: not when I'm this hard to ignore yeah Nancy: all the more reason Nancy: when you look like you look you can take your pick Rio: I already have, that's what I'm saying Nancy: & they're still dicks? Rio: He is Nancy: So dump him Nancy: there must be some boys in existence who aren't Rio: Eh Rio: None as cute Nancy: Gross Rio: Shut up 🙄 Nancy: if you wanna talk about boys you've come to the wrong place Rio: excuse me Rio: you've literally talked about your hitchhiker fantasy so you can deal with it Nancy: I don't have a fantasy I was trying to think of a diversion to horrify your grandma Rio: Sure Nancy: It's a shame Buster would never swap outfits with me Nancy: a move like that really would pull focus from what you're wearing Rio: I hate to break it to you but not really Rio: already got so many chicks in suits Rio: you know this is MY parents wedding, not yours Nancy: but how many boys in dresses do you have? Rio: I'll check Rio: my parents have weird friends, babe Rio: and have you met my siblings like Rio: your the normie branch of the fam, no amount of lesbian angst is changing that for you, I'm so sorry Nancy: at least they have friends, mine have co-dependence Nancy: and yeah, I'm trying to get adopted in, remember? Rio: 😍 romantic Rio: we'll swap Rio: I need the break Nancy: you and Buster would kill each other in seconds Nancy: but if you can survive long enough to end him I support it Rio: Duh Nancy: I've heard 'you should see the other guy' enough to be sure it's bullshit Nancy: you can take him Rio: I know Rio: trust me Nancy: he hasn't lost a 🥊 for ages it's way past due Rio: Weddings always end in a scrap Rio: may as well take it for the team honestly Nancy: fights & drunken displays happen whenever this family gets together Nancy: again, take your pick Rio: I'm not drunk but tah for the faith, babe Nancy: it's early still Rio: 😒 Nancy: they are all driving me to drink & I don't even Rio: Slainte Nancy: exactly Rio: Fuck it, I'm going town Nancy: do you have time? Rio: Sure Nancy: Then yeah go Rio: ✌ see you when you get here Nancy: I'll find you as soon as we show up Rio: Do Rio: I'll be the bombshell Nancy: I'll be the awkward ginger Nancy: 💚💋 Rio: 🧡💋

[bunny-rambles]

i'm unashamedly lurking around your replies to other people's ask, but i'd like my name to be added on the list of "shady misunderstood guys with a soft side" kinda lovers. that shit is good.

i mean, raiden as a birthday present still sounds very good. i've restrained myself from pulling her twice now because 1. i am a huge husbando collector so yk all my primos usually are saved for the next guy banner and b. i have a very strong love/hate relationship with raiden? like, i don't hate her but she's not a character i'd die for, if that makes sense.

not that i think she'd need someone dying for her, since i'm pretty sure she can just kill whatever obstacle is on her path lol

tho, she's really strong ;;; i've tried her yesterday with ayato, venti and thoma for the new event and i was shocked by how much fun i had clearing out the chamber.

i just want more characters to be able to reach inside venti's burst, rip

also, i've said it countless times but consider my replies to be a safe brainrot zone. like, you wanna talk for two hours straight about literally whatever? that's fine lmao i love hearing what people have to say

(moreover, i once kind of spent an entire hour talking to a friend about how i'd love to have kaeya as my summer boyfriend and diluc as my winter boyfriend so i could get cold kisses in the summer and warm kisses in the winter, so you know, i'm not one to judge other people's brainrots xd)

i feel like my asks keep getting longer? idk, i always feel like i've got too much to say and then have to try and sum it up as much as i can not to infodump you too much :')

as always, i wish you the best feelings and lots of albedo crits coming your way sigh i get you getting my childe to crit is also a big challenge

- 🍓

Hm,

I think it’s safe to say i can be added to that club too,,, Actually, I think I’d probably be the CEO of that T^T

I don’t like raiden much as a written character. She came out like this amazing villain but turned out to be a watered down version of a ‘wife’ cutesy character after destroying her entire country. I just found it ridiculous that the traveler and everyone else moved on so quickly. She’s only just now facing consequences of her actions and it’s too little too late imo. I’ve learnt not to judge her too harshly bc the writing of women in Genshin is almost always terrible. I’ve ranted too many times about that though,,,

As a playable character though, at first I was like ‘ok she’s good’ and now she’s become a very powerful dps in my little group, she works well with almost every character, she’s gorgeous to look at, has fluid animations, wonderful design - honestly, you don’t have to like Raiden as a character, but I think she’s personally worth pulling over some other five stars.

But aw, thank you !! I won’t be self conscious about the length of my replies then if you bring up something that sparks the unending rambles part of my brain hehe

Don’t worry about your asks getting longer, I don’t mind the length as long as I’m hearing from you, I love interacting <33

Ohh, speaking of Albedo crits- I pulled a defence artefact recently and now his defence is 3k,,, he might not be critting but with nearly 20k off-field damage? I’m still proud of my boy :,)

[jaeminlore]

Like a Princess » Jung Jaehyun

-

summary: “could I request a Jaehyun scenario where you are best friends and you like him, but you think he doesn’t like you because you’re on the bigger side. You have a lot of insecurities about your body, and Jaehyun sees that. He ends up liking you and tells you that you’re perfect the way you are.” words: 1824 category: jaehyun x chubby!reader, angst, fluff a/n: literally i need to write more chubby!reader scenarios bc they’re always so cute and i’ve only written like two i need more

-

You sighed, staring at the piece of paper you had just pulled out of the mailbox. It was finally here, the dreaded invitation that you had been hoping would never come.

Your sister was getting married, and she wanted you to be the maid of honor. That was nice of her, of course, if only you didn’t have to wear a dress. Being maid of honor drew another concern, which was that you would have to stand up on the podium during the entire ceremony, practically begging to be ridiculed.

It was like that every day of your life growing up. Your sister was the always considered the pretty one, with her model-like body and her perfect smile. You were the awkward, chubby sister who was afraid to make eye contact with everyone.

Having to stand up there in a dress, with everyone staring at you? There was no way. All your friends from high school would be there, and they would all make comments about your weight, or offer different weight-loss options that totally worked for them. Maybe worse, they’d offer to set you up with someone. Usually, that just meant they had a fat friend who was also lonely. It had nothing to do with your personality and whether or not you were compatible with the person. Instead, it had everything to do with the fact that you were chubbier than everyone else.

That’s how it felt anyway. The wedding RSVP just stamped it into your head that this was happening, and your biggest fear of being noticed was coming true.

Still, out of love and support for your sister, you signed your name, stating that you would be there, and sent it back the next day.

-

“Mario Kart as usual?” Jaehyun, your best friend, asked, not giving you a chance to answer as he was already placing the game inside the console.

You weren’t paying attention to him. Instead, you were staring at the pictures your sister had just sent you. They were the three dresses she was considering for her bridesmaids; the three dresses you would try on tomorrow, in front of all your sister’s skinny friends.

You bit your lip, staring at the photos. There was no way you would ever look like the model in the picture.

“Y/n? What’re you looking at?” Jaehyun sat beside you, craning his head to see what you were looking at. “Oh! Are those the dresses you’re trying on tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, wondering if he would say anything you were thinking.

Instead, he pointed to one of the pictures, “I hope your sister chooses the blue ones because that would look so good on you.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Jaehyun looked at you, rather surprised by the bitter tone in your voice. “What do you mean? You don’t like it?”

Seeing the utter confusion in his face, you decided not to tell him the truth. He wouldn’t get it anyway. “It’s just that I like the pink one more.”

Jaehyun turned back to the pictures, “Oh, yeah, the pink one is pretty. You’d look like a princess in a floor-length gown like that.”

Despite the fact that you didn’t agree with him, you began blushing. “Let’s just play the game.”

“Alright, but I call Yoshi.”

“As long as I get Princess Peach.”

-

You stepped out of the passenger side of Jaehyun’s car and sighed. The dress shop was intimidating. It was two stories tall, set on a main highway, with beautiful dresses displayed behind every window. The breeze shifted, and you kept your arms crossed over your stomach in an effort to hide from the gazes of everyone. Your jeans felt obnoxiously tighter than usual. All in all, you couldn’t wait to leave.

Jaehyun stepped out of the car next, walking beside you and holding his hand out for you to take. “You ready?”

You stared at his long, slender fingers. How odd would your small, chubby hands look in his?

Jaehyun huffed at your transfixed pose and grabbed your hand. “We always hold hands when we go places. What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “I’m just nervous, is all.”

“Of what?” Jaehyun asked gently, tugging you close to him. His eyes searched yours for some kind of answer.

Before you could reply, your sister drove up, honking as she parking right beside you. “Hey, baby sister! Baby sister’s boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said, hastily letting go of Jaehyun’s hand. You ignored the look of disappointment on his face, regarding it for anything but, and approached your sister. “Can we get this over with?”

“Why? Have you got places to be?” Your sister wriggled her eyebrows suggestively behind her sunglasses, and you nearly rolled your eyes at her immaturity.

“Anywhere but here.” You grumbled under your breath, following her into the boutique. “Where is everyone else?”

“Inside, I think. I told them to go ahead and get sized for their dresses—”

“Hold up, sized? What does that mean?”

“Like a tailor,” your sister explained, thanking Jaehyun as he opened the door for the two of you. “They’ll take your measurements and make sure the dresses they have fit.”

“Oh.” The thought of your body being analyzed made you sick. “It’s not in public, right?”

“No, silly,” your sister laughed. “It’s a private appointment, so it’ll only be you and the tailor.”

“Okay.” That was a bit better, but you still worried that the tailor might be mean. Or worse: announce your measurements to the entire bridal party. Or even worse than that: in front of Jaehyun. There was no way your best friend and long-lasting crush was going to see how big you actually were. Not after you had done so well at concealing yourself beneath hoodies and sweatshirts.

Inside the store was even more intimidating, and with every clicking of a high heel you could feel panic rising in your throat. There were so many people. Brides-to-be, their families, the bridal party, the consultant, the assistant to the consultant, the tailors … it was enough to make you lose your mind.

Suddenly you felt a hand on the small of your back, and a whisper against your ear that sent both calm and electric waves through your body. “Hey, don’t be so afraid. You’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna look beautiful.”

You turned, surprised at Jaehyun’s soft tone. “What?”

“Like a princess,” he smiled, his dimples appearing. “Remember?”

“Like a princess,” you repeated, the words strange on your tongue.

-

Your personal tailor was lovely, and she assured you that she had a dress in your size.

“It’s not even one of our largest sizes, love. And don’t look so down, you’re pretty.” She pinched your cheek like a grandmother would and smiled coyly, “Who was that boy out there with you? He was staring a great deal. Is he a boyfriend?”

“No, no,” you hastily denied, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans and wincing at how panicked you looked in the mirror. Couldn’t you be more graceful? “He doesn’t like me like that.”

Your tailor snorted, winding up her measuring tape, “Whatever you say. I’ll be back with the dress.”

She returned shortly, helping you into the pink dress. As nerve-wracking as it was, getting nearly naked in front of someone, your were glad it was someone you were comfortable with. That was her job, you supposed, making the customers feel comfortable in their dresses.

The dress was beautiful, with halved sleeves to cover your arms. It even did a fairly well job at covering your stomach and thighs, as long as you stayed still. You wished your sister hadn’t chosen such a tight dress, because it was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that you could see your pudge if you turned a certain way, and your neck suddenly looked stubby next to the elegant neckline. “Can you take it off?”

You turned around, hoping that the tailor hadn’t already gone to see another bridesmaid. She had, though, and you were left alone on the verge of a panic attack because instead of a princess like Jaehyun said, you were beginning to think you looked like a hippo.

“Wow, sis, you clean up well!” Your sister barged in, unannounced, her eyes scanning your body. She squealed. “I knew that dress would look great on you the moment I saw it. You like it, don’t you?”

You shook your head slowly, a tear threatening to fall as you turned to your sister. “I can’t do this. I can’t stand up there, in front of all those people, looking like this. I can’t face Jaehyun in the crowd wearing this dress.”

“Why not? You look stunning,” your sister told you, her recently-plucked eyebrows furrowing in concern as she saw your cheeks lose color. “I’m going to get Jaehyun. He calmed you down earlier, right?”

“What? Don't—” you began to warn, only to be ignored once again as your sister fled the scene, calling Jaehyun’s name.

You searched desperately for a hoodie, or a curtain that you hide behind before Jaehyun came in and saw you. There was no way you could compare to all the other bridesmaids. There was no way you would look beautiful after Jaehyun had already seven them.

“Well don’t you look lovely—Why are you crying?” Jaehyun ran in, but began to slow down as he noticed your frown.

“I’m not,” you spoke hastily, wiping the tears from your eyes and mustering a smile. “I’m fine, see?”

Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows, and sighed quietly. “I didn’t want to bring it up, but I’ve been noticing it more and more lately. Is this about your weight?”

You bowed your head. “I hate my body, Jae. It’s unattractive and gross and no one likes me because of it.”

“Stop speaking like that,” Jaehyun said, advancing forward to cup your cheeks. “You’re beautiful. That includes your body, which is definitely not gross, by the way. And what’s this about people not liking you? Everyone loves you. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and your smile makes everyone’s day better. It makes my day better. When I first saw you in that dress I nearly forgot how to speak because, and I’ve never told you this, I have the biggest crush on you and I want you to love yourself the way I love you. I want you to see yourself the way I see you: you look like a princess. Even in your hoodie and sweatpants, you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Please don’t ever think you aren’t.”

You chuckled leaning your forehead against his for support. “I want to believe you, Jaehyun. I’ll try to believe you.”

“Good,” he muttered. “Because I want to be able to tell everyone at that wedding that the beautiful maid-of-honor they’re all drooling over is my girlfriend.”

»the end«