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simone8210 · 26 days ago

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Please, Change the Prophecy: Celebrimbor x reader - Part II

Hi guys! Thanks for all the love, I really appreciate it! I'm so happy that you liked it.

I noticed when I was writing this and thinking back on last chapter that Elrond hasn't actually met Celebrimbor yet in the show 💀 So please just go along with the idea that he has met him before for this fic.

This chapter does sadly not contain very much Brimby, but fear not! We will see Brimby again in person.

Word count: 15.043 Present = Normal, Past = Cursive

Taglist: @kateris-world

Enjoy! Feel free to comment and let me know what you think!

___________________________________________________________

I rushed back to my room, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mind kept replaying the conversation with Celebrimbor – his words, his rejection, the pity in his eyes. It was unbearable.

The walk to my room felt like it stretched on for miles, though it was only across a few halls and up a single flight of stairs. My legs moved on their own accord, stiff and mechanical, while my mind spun in disarray. There was a low buzzing in my ears, a strange hum that made every voice around me sound distant, unreal. I kept my gaze foxed on the ground, the polished stone floors blurred through the gathering mist in my eyes.

“Lady Arínel!” Someone called out. An ellon, their tone light, greeting me in passing.

I didn’t look up, barely acknowledging them as I kept walking, faster now. Another figure stepped into view ahead, offering a polite bow. “A pleasant evening, my lady.”

I gave a stiff nod, muttering something that might have resembled a greeting, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. My chest tightened with each step, the lump in my throat growing larger, threatening to spill over in form of tears I wasn’t yet ready to let fall. Not here, not in front of them. Not where he might see.

The walls of Lindon, once a place of comfort and familiarity, not felt like a maze closing in around me. My heart pounded, my breath quickening as I turned a corner and saw my room at the end of the hall, so close yet so impossibly far.

I had to make it. I had to get inside before –

The thought cut short as a wave of panic washed over me. What if he had followed me? What if he had tried to say more? Tried to console me with that pity in his voice? I couldn’t bear it. I sped up, practically running now, the sound of my boots echoing against the walls as I hurried toward the door.

“Arínel!”

My heart stopped. His voice. Celebrimbor’s voice calling my name from behind.

No.

I forced myself forward, nearly tripping as I fumbled with the handle of my door. The buzzing grew louder, muffling everything else as I yanked the door open, slipped inside, and slammed it shut behind me. My hands shaking as I turned the lock, sealing myself away from the world outside. Away from him. Away form everything.

I leaned against the door, pressing my forehead to the cool wood, my breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The tears I had fought so hard to hold back finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks in silent waves. I covered my mouth with my hand, stifling the sobs that clawed at my throat.

He hadn’t followed me after all.

The realisation only made the ache worse.

I felt myself sliding down to the floor. My entire body trembled as the shame washed over me in waves. How could I have been so foolish? I should have known. He was kind, yes, but that didn’t mean he felt the same.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, truing to quiet the tears that streamed down my face. I had made such a fool of myself, confessing my feelings like some lovesick child, and now, everything was ruined.

And so, I sat there, alone in the silence of my room, the weight of rejection pressing down on my chest like an unbearable burden. The sting of it – sharp, cutting – settled deep inside me, a wound that I wasn’t sure would ever heal.

_____________________________________________________________

For days, I stayed hidden away in my room, avoiding the feast halls, the gardens, anywhere I might run into him. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again, not after the way things had ended. Every knock at the door, every sound outside my window made me tense, wondering if it was him, wondering If he would try to talk to me again. But he didn’t.

And I was grateful.

But the silence didn’t make the hurt any easier to bear. It didn’t erase the shame.

On the third day, a soft knock broke the stillness of my room. I froze, heart leaping into my throat. I hadn’t ordered food, and I’d made it clear I didn’t want visitors.

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

“Arínel? It’s Elrond.”

His voice was gentle, and for a moment, I wanted to pretend I wasn’t here, to hide from the world, form everything that had just happened. But this was Elrond, my dear friend. He wouldn’t leave me alone, not like this.

I hesitated for a moment before rising and opening the door. Elrond stood there, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in my appearance. My hair more tangled than it usually, my eyes red from lack of sleep.

“Elrond,” I greeted, trying to force a smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “What brings you here?”

He didn’t return the smile, his expression softening. “You’ve been hiding away for days, Arínel. People are worried. Your brother is worried. He said you’ve been refusing people at your door.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, stepping back to let him in. “Just…needed some time to myself.”

“Arínel, what’s wrong? What has happened?” he asked, crossing the room to sit beside me. He didn’t touch me, but his presence alone was comforting, steady.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied weakly, trying to play it off, but the look he gave said we both knew that was a lie.

Elrond raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, but he didn’t push. Instead, he walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens below. “Lindon is a beautiful place,” he said after a moment. “But even the most beautiful places can feel like prison if you stay in one spot for too long.”

I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Elrond.”

He turned, his eyes full of quiet understanding. “I’m not here to lecture. I’m here to check on you. To be a friend.”

We stood in silence for a few moments before I finally gave in, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “I feel like such a fool,” I admitted.

I bit my lip, unsure of where to begin. The words stuck in my throat, and I felt that awful tightness in my chest again, threatening to overwhelm me.

“Elrond,” I began, then stopped. I couldn’t say it. How could I explain the humiliation I felt, the sting of rejection that was still fresh in my mind?

He watched me, waiting patiently. “You do not have to tell me,” he said softly. “but something is troubling you deeply, I can see that.”

A long silence stretched between us, and I could feel his gaze, warm and kind, as I struggled to find my voice. Eventually, it broke free.

“I told someone how I felt.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I told him I love him.”

Elrond’s eyes widened slightly, and though his expression remained gentle, I could see the surprise flicker across his face. “You love someone? And you confessed your feelings for them?”

I nodded, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, not from the warmth of affection but from the bitter embarrassment that now accompanied the confession.

“I did, but you see. He…he doesn’t feel the same,” I continued, my voice cracking. “He was so kind about it, Elrond, but it hurt all the same. And now I do not know what to do.”

Elrond’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “I cannot imagine how difficult that mut have been.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I just feel…humiliated. Like he sees me as this silly, lovesick elleth.”

“You’re not silly,” Elrond said firmly. “You were brave to be honest with him. That’s more than most can say.”

I gave a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels awful.”

He didn’t argue with me. instead, he glanced out the window, letting me talk about my feelings.

“It’s not just that,” I said shaking my head as tears welled up again. “It’s the fact that elves… we mate for life. We love so completely, so wholly. So how could I fall in love with someone who does not love me back? why would I feel this way, knowing he could never return it?”

I wiped my face angrily, frustrated with the mess of emotions that seemed to coil tighter and tighter in my chest.

“Elves are supposed to find their one partner, aren’t they?” I continued, my voice breaking. “I thought I had found mine. I thought…”

“You thought it was him,” Elrond finished softly.

I nodded miserably. “And now I feel…broken. Like something is wrong with me. if we’re meant to love for life, when why do I love someone who does not love me back? why would I be given these feelings if they’re not meant to be returned?”

Elrond gave me a sad smile. “I do not think it works like that, Arínel,” he said after a pause. “Even for elves, love can be complicated. Not every bond is destined, and sometimes, feelings do not align the way we hope. But that does not make your love any less real, or any less important.”

I looked at him, my lip trembling as the tears threatened to spill again. “I just do not understand why,” I whispered. “Why would I love him if he doesn’t love me?”

Elrond sighed, his gaze turning inward for a moment as if searching for the right words. “Love doesn’t always follow reason, even for us. Sometimes it’s painful, and unfair. But you’re not broken, Arínel. You took a risk by opening your heart to him, and that takes courage.”

I wanted to believe him, but the sting of rejection was still too fresh. “It doesn’t feel like courage,” I muttered. “It feels like foolishness.”

“You’re not foolish,” he said firmly. “And you’re not alone in feeling this way. Many an elves – many people – have felt the same pain of unreturned love.”

I stared at him, the weight of my feelings pressing down on me. “But it still hurts,” I whispered.

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, it does. And it will for some time. But it won’t always feel like this.”

I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling slightly as I wiped my face again. Elrond watched me quietly for a moment before he spoke again.

“You’ve always been strong, Arínel,” he said softly. “I know this feels like a deep wound, but you’ll find your way through it. You’ve faced worse and come out stronger. Do not let this consume you. Nor define you.”

I didn’t respond right away, my thoughts swirling in a mess of confusion, hurt and doubt. Finally, I gave him a small, grateful nod. “Thank you, Mellon-nin. For listening and for your advice.”

“Always,” he said, his smile softening into something warm and reassuring. “And if you ever need to talk again, you know where to find me.”

“You know,” he began, his tone lighter, “a change of scenery might help. I’ve heard Eregion is lovely this time of year, besides you loved your time there.” He said with a smile, clearly trying to change the mood.

I grimaced at the suggestion. “Eregion?” I said, incredulously. “The last place I’d want to go is where he is.”

We both froze at that. I had said more than I intended to say. I looked at him and he looked surprised, but as the good friend he let it slide and pretended he didn’t hear it.

Elrond raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just a thought. I suppose avoided the ellon would be difficult when he resides in the city.” His eyes softened. “But I do think a change of scenery would do you good.”

I sighed again, leaning back on the bed. “I cannot just leave, Elrond. Where would I even go?”

“Well,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “You could always go with Galadriel and her company when they leave again. She’s bound to drag you into some grand adventure. Who know? You might find some dark lord to slay along the way.”

I glanced at him, expecting the jest to be just that – a joke to ease the tension. But something about the idea struck me. Galadriel was leaving soon with her company, to return to their search for Sauron. And right now, going with her, leaving Lindon, get away from it all – it didn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounded like exactly what I needed.

Elrond must have noticed the shift in my expression because his smile faded, replaced with a flicker of concern. “Arínel, I was jesting.”

“I know,” I said quietly, starring at the floor. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go with her.”

Elrond sat up straighter, clearly not expecting me to take his suggestion seriously. “Wait, are you…are you actually considering it?”

I nodded slowly. “Why not? Maybe it’s time for me to leave here, to start fresh somewhere else. I’m not doing any good by hiding in my room.”

“Arínel,” he began, his tone cautious, “going with Galadriel is no small thing. You know how dangerous her path might be. She’s not searching for peace or comfort. She’s searching for…for something dark.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice firm. “But I cannot stay here, Elrond. Not after…everything. I need to get away. And may I remind you, that I’ve been fighting the dark long before you were born.”

He frowned, concern etched in his features. “You should not make this decision out of hurt. Galadriel’s path could take her far from any place of safety.”

I met his gaze, a sense of resolve building within me. “I cannot stay here and wallow in my own misery. I need to do something, go somewhere that reminds me I’m not just this…rejected, broken thing.”

Elrond’s eye softened again, and he sighed deeply, as if weighing whether to push the matter further. “If you truly believe this is what you need, then I will not stop you. Just…be careful, Arínel. Do not make choices out of pain that you will regret later.”

I gave him a small smile, appreciating his concern. “I’ll be careful. But I think this is the right choice.”

He nodded, slowly, though the worry didn’t leave his face. “I’ll speak with Galadriel, then. And…Arínel?”

“Yes?”

“Do not forget, you have friends here. You do not have to do everything alone.”

His words struck a chord, and for the first time in days, I felt a tiny flicker of warmth return.

“I know,” I said softly. “Hannon le, mellon-nin.”

He smiled, standing to leave “Always.” And with that, he gave me one last reassuring glance before going over to the door.

Elrond paused at the door, looking back at me one last time. “You’ll get through this, Arínel,” he said softly. “I know you will.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. But somehow, they felt a little less heavy and with new thoughts – thoughts of departure, of new beginnings, and leaving the pain behind.

______________________________________________________________

The days after my conversation with Elrond dragged on, heavy and slow. I tried to bury myself in routine, sparring with other warriors in the mornings, attending the occasional feast in the evenings, but everything felt muted, like I was walking through a dream I couldn’t wake up from. Each time I saw someone, they would offer a warm smile or kind words, and I would return them out of habit, but none of it reached me, none of it filled the growing emptiness inside.

The rejection replayed itself over and over in my mind, especially when I was alone. I would sit in my room, staring at the walls, remembering the way he had looked at me – so kind, so understanding, and yet…so distant. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have misread the moments we shared, the smiles, the conversations? Was it all in my head?

I avoided Celebrimbor completely. When I heard his voice echoing down the halls or caught sight of him from a distance, my heart would lurch, and I’d turn the other way, making sure he never saw me. It was easier to pretend he didn’t exist than to face him and feel the ache all over again. But it was exhausting, always on edge, always worried he might try to speak to me again.

I found myself retreating more and more to the solitude of my chambers, a place where I could be alone with my thoughts, though solitude had never felt so oppressive. The weight of rejection pressed down me, suffocating, and I began to wonder how long I could keep his up.

It was on one such evening, as I sat near the window, staring blankly at the fading twilight, that there was a knock on the door.

“Arínel?” The voice was unmistakable – Galadriel.

I hesitated, feeling the odd flutter of nervousness. Of all the people, I had spoken to since that fateful night. Galadriel had been distant, caught up in her own duties and preparations. But now she was here. I didn’t know why, but I felt my chest tighten as opened the door.

She stood there, regal as ever, her golden hair gleaming even in the dim light of the corridor. Her eyes searched my face, and I knew she saw right through the mask I’d been trying so hard to keep in place.

“Elrond spoke to me,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “He didn’t tell me much, but enough to know that something troubles you deeply.”

I swallowed, avoiding her gaze as I stepped aside to let her in. She moved gracefully into the room, her presence commanding but gentle. I couldn’t help but feel exposed in front of her, like every wall I had built to protect myself was transparent in her eyes.

“Arínel,” she said, turning to me. “You’ve been avoiding everyone. Including him.”

My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat. I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my mind. “Him…?” I stuttered out. Galadriel’s gaze softened.

“It is him, isn’t it? Celebrimbor?” Galadriel said gently, her tone carrying no judgement, only understanding.

I blinked, stunned. How had she known? My eyes widened, and for a moment, I felt that familiar pang of shame rise in my chest.

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

She smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “You’re not the first to feel the weight of unrequired love. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way you’ve been avoiding him, these last couple of days. It wasn’t difficult to piece together. Besides, he has seemed troubled these last few days.”

I looked away, my hands shaking as I clasped them together. “It doesn’t matter,” I said bitterly.

“He doesn’t feel the same?” Galadriel asked back in a whisper, her eyes soft and sad.

I nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s not just him,” I whispered. “It’s me. How could I have been so blind? And now… I can’t even bear to look at him. I feel like an utter fool.”

Galadriel stepped closer, her hand resting on my shoulder. “You are not a fool, Arínel. Love is never foolish, though it can be painful. And running from pain will not ease it.”

“I’m not running,” I said, a little sharper than I intended. “I want to do something with my life. I want to help you, to join your company. I do not care about rank or titles. I just…I need to leave.”

Galadriel was silent for a long moment, her hand still resting on my shoulder as she studied me. Finally, she sighed softly, as though weighing something heavy in her mind. “Your will is strong, I can see that,” she said. “And your desire to act is not misplaced. But understand this; if you join us, you will not be Arínel, Lady of Lindon and sister to the High-King. You will be the newest member of our company, and your rank will reflect that. There will be no special treatment, no regard for your title.”

“I do not care,” I replied quickly, looking up at her. “I do not need titles or honours. I just want to help. To do something good in this world.”

Her eyes held mine for a long moment, searching for something, though I wasn’t sure what. Finally, she nodded slowly. “Very well. You may join us, but know that this journey will test you in ways you cannot imagine, and once we leave, there is no turning back until we find what we seek.”

“I understand,” I said, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. “Hannon le, Galadriel.”

Galadriel’s gaze softened just a little, a faint smile touching her lips. “There is no need to thank me, mellon nin. This is your choice, and it is not without its dangers. But I believe you will find what you seek, though it may not be what you expect.”

I nodded, grateful for her understanding, even if I didn’t fully understand the path ahead of me. “When do we leave?”

“Soon,” she said. “Very soon. Prepare yourself, I will inform the others.”

I nodded again, the reality of my decision settling in. I was leaving. I was really leaving.

Galadriel turned to go, but before she left, she paused, glancing back at me. “One last thing,” she said, her tone soft but serious. “Do not let this pain, this hurt, define you. You are far more than this moment. Remember that.”

Her words stuck a chord deep within me, and I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I truly believed them yet.

“I will,” I said quietly.

“Good,” she replied with a smile. “Oh, and I will inform the High-King of your decision.” She said with a slight smile before tuning and walking away, leaving me standing by the river alone. The weight of my decision settling in. I wasn’t running from my pain. I was walking toward something new, something that would make me stronger – or so I hoped.

When I remembered what she said before she left, I was struck with terror. The High-King. My brother. How on earth was I going to tell him this? That I was leaving?

______________________________________________________________

I had been summoned. I stepped into my brother’s chambers, my stomach twisting. The high, arched windows allowed sunlight to pour over his desk, illuminating his many maps and parchments, a scattered testament to the realm he ruled. My brother’s eyes softened as he looked up, and for a moment, I almost felt at ease – until he set down his quill and regarded me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Sister,” he greeted, gesturing for me to take a seat. “It’s been too long since we’ve spoken properly,”

“Brother,” I replied, remaining just inside the doorway, shifting slightly under his inquiring gaze,

He tilted his head, watching me with an almost brotherly exasperation. “You’ve been quiet,” he noted, voice gentle, but probing. “More so than usual.”

I forced a smile, hoping it would deflect his questioning. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” he asked, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Hiding from me, perhaps?”

I crossed my arms, feigning nonchalance. “Hardly. I’ve just had much to think on.”

My brother’s expression shifted slightly, his gaze more intense now. “Much to think on? I know you, Arínel. There’s something more – something is troubling you.” His voice softened, his concern palpable. “What is it?”

Heat pricked at the back of my neck as I looked down. I could never bring myself to lie to him, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing the truth – that my heart had been bruised by rejection, which he had warned my about. “It’s nothing, truly. Just thoughts that come and go.”

He watched me, unblinking, clearly unconvinced. The silence settled between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

Then, he let out a slow sigh, and his gaze sharpened. “I have spoken to Galadriel.”

At this, I tensed, my throat going dry. “Did you?”

“Yes.” His tone had turned from brotherly warmth to something sterner, almost commanding. “She tells me that you plan to join her company.” He paused, the words sinking in before he continued, “Strange, since you hadn’t seen fit to tell your own brother.”

The air between us felt charged, his words cutting like an accusation. I clenched my fists at my sides, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t think it was necessary to burden you with it until everything was settled.”

“Necessary?” he repeated, his voice rising with disbelief. “Arínel, you are considering leaving Lindon, to join Galadriel on what may be an endless hint across Middle-earth, and you think it was unnecessary to tell me? Your High-King? Your brother!”

“Perhaps because I knew you’d react like this,” I shot back, feeling my pulse quicken as the walls I had carefully built up began to crack under his scrutiny.

He rose from his seat, crossing the space between us in a few swift strides. “React like what, Arínel? Like your brother who cares about you? Like the king who will lose not only a valuable advisor, warrior but his sister?”

“Ereinion,” I said, taking a step back, “this isn’t about you or your court. It’s something I need to do.”

He shook his head, his jaw tight. “It sounds like a decision made out of haste and despair. Have you considered what you’re throwing away?”

The weight of his words bore down on me, but I refused to relent. “There’s nothing to throw away. I.” I spat bitterly. “I have spent years fulfilling every duty you placed before me. Isn’t it time I had a say in my own path?”

“Your own path?” His voice dropped, the frustration barely concealed. “Do you think your actions affect only you?” Have you thought of the risks you’re taking?”

The worry in his eyes softened the edges of my anger, but I hardened myself against it. “I’ve thought of nothing else. You may not understand, but I have made up my mind.”

“Arínel,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “You are my sister. I cannot just let you walk into danger.”

I looked away, swallowing against the ache in my throat. “You’re not letting me do anything. This is my choice.”

“I will not allow it.” He said his voice sharp.

“There’s nothing for you to allow!” I snapped back.

Silence stretched between us, brittle and sharp. Finally, I turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. He didn’t stop me, and I didn’t look back.

______________________________________________________________

I spent the next few days preparing for my departure, gathering my new armor belonging to the northern armies and packing provisions. It felt surreal, knowing that I would soon be leaving Lindon behind – leaving behind everything I’d known in favor of an uncertain future. My hand brushed the cold, smooth surface of my sword as I placed it in its sheath. This had been my constant companion in many battles, though now it seemed foreign, as though the weight of it reminded me of the battles I hadn’t fought lately, the person I hadn’t been for far too long.

I paused, starring at my reflection in the mirror. I had pulled my hair back in braids, a practical choice for the road ahead. My face seemed thinner, more solemn than it had in years. There was a determination in my eyes that had been missing for some time, but beneath it, there was also uncertainty. I was leaving to reclaim my strength, to prove something to myself. But was it really for me – or to escape?

I shook my head. The time for doubt had passed. I had made my decision.

As I finished strapping on my gear, I could hear the rustle of leaves outside my window, the great tree of Lindon swaying gently in the wind. It had always been a place of comfort, a symbol of peace and wisdom. But now it seemed ominous, a silent witness to the turmoil growing within me.

There was only one thing left to do – speak to my brother.

I found my brother standing beneath the towering tree, his arms crossed, and his brow furrowed. The moment he saw me approach, I could sense the tension rising between us. He knew why I had come.

“You’re really going then,” he said, his voice low and edged with disapproval.

“I have to,” I replied, my tone firm but not unkind. “This is something I need to do. Commander Galadriel has agreed, and I –”

“I do not care what Galadriel has agreed to,” he interrupted, stepping forward toward me, his expression darkening. “You do not need to prove anything, Arínel. Not to her, not to me, not to anyone.”

My jaw tightened, and I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s not about proving anything to anyone. It’s about doing something that matters.”

“And abandoning your home?” he shot back, his voice rising. “What about Lindon? What about your friends? Your family - Me?”

I felt my own temper flare at his words. “I’m not abandoning myself! I’m trying to find a purpose! You cannot keep me here, trapped under your shadow forever.”

Gil-Galad’s face hardened. “This isn’t about me, Arínel. It’s about you running away from what you do not want to face. You think following Galadriel on her endless hunt will somehow make you whole again?”

“That’s not fair,” I said, my voice shaking with anger and frustration. “You do not understand.”

“I understand plenty,” he said bitterly, stepping closer. “I see the way you’ve been hiding, locking yourself away since—” he hesitated, but I could see the words on the tip of his tongue. “Since he rejected you.”

I flinched at his bluntness, feeling the sting of his words deep in my chest. “This has nothing to do with Celebrimbor,” I spat, though we both knew it wasn’t entirely true.

He shook his head, his gaze softening but still filled with concern. “You’re my sister. I cannot let you do this. My job is to protect you – even from yourself.”

“You cannot stop me,” I replied, stepping back, trying to put distance between us, both physically and emotionally. “This is my decision to make, not yours.”

My brother opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a voice interrupted us.

“Is everything all right here?”

I froze, turning toward the sound. Celebrimbor stood nearby, his eyes calm but weary, as if he had walked into something he hadn’t expected. His auburn hair was tousled by the breeze, and those sharp, intelligent eyes of his shifted between me and Gil-Galad, sensing the tension. He carried himself with the usual quiet confidence, the kind of calm that could disarm most situations.

He had probably come for his meeting with my brother, but not, I found myself wishing he hadn’t.

“Lord Celebrimbor,” Gil-Galad greeted him stiffly, though his focus remained on me.

“Do forgive us, my lord, but we’re having a private discussion,” I said sharply, turning my back to Celebrimbor as I focused on my brother again, but my heart raced, knowing he was watching.

“I can see that,” Celebrimbor, said his voice gentle, almost soothing. “I do not wish to intrude, but… perhaps it would be easier to talk calmly?”

His words were soft, but they only stoked the flames of my frustration. This wasn’t about a conversation that could be smoothed over with calm words. Not this time.

“No,” I said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. I turned back towards my brother. “I’m joining Galadriel’s company whether you want me to or not. I do not need your permission, but I would like to have it.”

The tension crackled in the silence that followed. My brother took a step back, his hands clenched, jaw tight, while I felt the familiar twist of both shame and stubbornness in my chest.

But as Celebrimbor’s gaze flickered to me, his brows knit together in growing confusion. His eyes were both questioning and hesitant, as though the words he was about to speak carried a weight that he feared would only worsen things.

“You’re….leaving?” he asked softly, almost as if the word itself carried a personal blow. His voice wavered with a mix of shock and…something else, something nearly panicked and yet unmistakably sad. His face, usually composed, betrayed an emption he had clearly been surprising.

The air around us grew still as his gaze bore into mine, and I struggled to find my voice, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” I managed, barely above a whisper, my heart twisting as I watched the flicker of disbelief in his expression.

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, I thought he might step closer. “But…why?” he glanced briefly at my brother as though hoping for an answer there, but when none came, his gaze returned to me, searching, almost pleading.

“Because I… This isn’t… I…. I – I just can’t do this right now.” My throat felt tight, and I could barely contain the wave of emotions rising inside me.

“Arínel,” Celebrimbor said gently, his voice cutting through the chaos in my mind. “Stay. We can resolve this.”

But the sound of his voice, the way he spoke so kindly – It was unbearable. It was like reopening a wound that hadn’t yet healed, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t bear the pity in his vice, or the way he looked at me as I he wanted to make things better but couldn’t.

“No,” I said again, more forcefully this time. “I have to go.”

Without another word, I turned and hurried away, ignoring Celebrimbor’s calls after me, ignoring the way my brother’s eyes burned into my back. I didn’t look at either of them as I left, my heart pounding and my chest tight with shame, anger, and a sense of loss that I couldn’t shake.

I had tried to find my place here, to make sense of it all, but now I only felt more lost than ever.

______________________________________________________________

The night before my departure, a grand feast was held in the company’s honour. The hall was aglow with candles, their flickering light casting a warm glow on the faces of those gathered. Elves spoke in hushed voices, drinking and laughing, but I felt a strange distance from it all. My mind was already elsewhere, halfway across the sea with Galadriel’s company, anticipating the unknown journey ahead.

I sat near the end of the long table, quietly eating as the feast continued around me. Elrond, seated beside me, glanced my way. He gave me a soft smile, one of understanding, though I knew he didn’t entirely agree with my decision either.

“You’re brave for going, you know,” he said sipping his wine. “not many would willingly join Galadriel on such an uncertain path.”

I managed a small smile in return. “Perhaps I’m not as brave as you think. Perhaps it’s simply easier to leave than to stay.”

Elrond tilted his head, studying me. “Sometimes, it’s both. But regardless, I hope you find what you’re searching for out there.”

There was a weight in his words that I hadn’t expected, and I felt a pang in my chest. It was strange, to think that I might not see them all again. I flanked across the hall, my eyes naturally seeking out the familiar figures of those closest to me. Círdan caught my gaze from across the room and gave me a nod, lifting his goblet as if to silently urge me to take care.

I returned the gesture, grateful for his quiet support.

But then my eyes fell on mu brother. The High-King sat at the far end of the table, his face impassive, his posture stiff. He hadn’t spoken a word to me all night. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a word to me since our last conversation. His disapproval hung between us like a sword, sharp and cutting. I’d tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, that I didn’t need his approval to do what I had chosen. But it hurt, nonetheless.

I tore my gaze away and took a deep breath, resolving to focus on those who were here for me, believed in me.

Celebrimbor had been on the other side of the hall most of the night, occasionally speaking with others but always keeping me in his periphery. He made his way toward me at one point, pausing when he reached my side. I looked up at him, feeling a pang of something – regret, perhaps – at the way things had unfolded between us.

“I wanted to wish you well on your journey,” he said softly, his gaze searching mine. “I…I hope you find what you seek.”

His words were king, but I felt a wall between us, a distance that hadn’t been there before. I nodded, my lips pressing into a tight line. “Thank you, my lord.”

He hesitated, as if there were more, he wished to say, but I couldn’t give him the opening. I had closed myself off to him, unwilling to bear the ache of disappointment again. He seemed to sense it, and after a moment, he gave me a nod before turning away.

I watched him go, feeling the weight of his unspoken words settle like a stone in my chest. But it was better this way, I told myself. There was no point in clinging to hope were none existed.

After the feast, I retreated to my chambers, trying to quiet my racing thoughts as I prepared for the morning. Just as I was about to climb into bed, there was a knock at my door. I frowned, wondering who would come at such a late hour, but when I opened it, my heart stilled.

My brother stood there, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

“May I come in?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I stepped aside, allowing him into the room. He closed the door behind him, and we stood in silence for what felt like an eternity.

“I owe you an apology,” he said at last, breaking the tension. His gaze dropped to the floor, and when he looked up at me again, I could see the regret in his eyes. “I was wrong to be so harsh with you. It’s just… difficult. I don’t want to lose you.”

My throat tightened, and I crossed the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not going to lose me, brother. I’ll come back.”

He shook his head slightly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve seen too many go and not return. I’m your brother, Arínel. It’s my duty to protects you, and yet here I am, letting you walk into danger.”

“I’m not a child, toron,” I said gently, placing a hand on his arm. “I need to do this. For myself.”

He was silent for a long moment before reaching behind his back. When he pulled his hand forward, I saw his sword, the one he had carried into countless battles. He held it out to me.

“Take it,” he said quietly. “And promise me you’ll return it. Return it to me, nésa. Then I know you’ll come back.”

I stared at the sword in disbelief. It was a part of him, a symbol of his strength and his legacy, and now he was entrusting it to me.

“I cannot take this! It’s a symbol of your strength” I gasped.

He just chuckled softly and shook his head with a pained smile. “Do not worry, nésa. I still have my trusty Aeglos to keep me safe.” He teased slightly.

My heart swelled with emotion, and I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the hilt.

“I promise,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, and for a moment, we stood there, the weight of unspoken words passing between us. When he pulled away, his eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he didn’t let them fall.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, the mood in Lindon was somber. Galadriel’s company was assembled by the docks, and ready to embark on their journey. I stood among them, clad in armour similar to Galadriel’s, though it felt foreign on my body. The weight of my brother’s sword rested on my hop, a constant reminder of the promise I had made.

As I turned to say goodbye, Elrond approached me with a faint smile, his usual calm softened by something more sorrowful in his eyes. He had been my closest friend through all of this, and I felt the ache of parting keenly.

“You have everything you need?” he asked with faint smile, though I could see he was holding back his true words. Elrond, ever careful with his emotions, but he didn’t fool me now.

“I believe som” I said, forcing a small smile of my own. I paused, swallowing the knot in my throat. “I’ll see you again, Elrond. I’ll return, mellon nin.”

He nodded, his hand resting on my shoulder in a gesture both steadying and reluctant. “Take care, Arínel. I worry… about what you might find out there. Remember that darkness does not always appear as shadows.”

“I know,” I whispered, looking at him earnestly. “But if I don’t go, I’ll never find peace with any of this.”

A flicker of sadness crossed his face, and he gave my shoulder a reassuring a squeeze. “Then may the stars light your way, and may you come back…as yourself.” His voice was gentle, but his words held a quiet plea.

I nodded, gripping his hand in farewell before stepping back.

I glanced over my shoulder one last time, my eyes scanning the crowed. My brother stood near the great tree, watching me, his face stoic. Círdan gave me a small, reassuring nod, and I smiled faintly in return.

Then, my gaze fell on Celebrimbor. He stood a little apart from the others, his expression unreadable as he watched me. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I could feel the tension between us once more. I turned away, ready to board the ship, but before I could take a step, I heard his voice.

“Arínel!”

I turned back, surprised to see him approaching, his face softened with concern.

He looked at me with a strange expression, something in his eyes that I couldn’t name. I had been avoiding his gaze since our last exchange, fearing that even a single glance might reopen the wound of his rejection. But here he was, close enough that the warmth of his presence brushed against my skin.

“I…I wanted to say goodbye,” he said, his voice gentler than it had been in days. “I’ll miss you and our conversations. I do not know what’s waiting for you out there, but…. I hope you find peace.”

His words were kind, but there was a sadness behind them that made my heart ache. I wanted to say something – anything – but the words caught in my throat. I merely nodded, unable to trust my voice.

He reached out as if to touch my arm, but stopped short, his hand falling back to his side. He hesitated for a moment longer once again, then suddenly stepped closer. He reached out and took my hand in his. His touch delicate as though I were made of something fragile. I caught my breath, and his eyes met mine, bright with unspoken words.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, “stay safe out there, my lady. I …I cannot bear the thought of something ill befalling you.” His eyes searched mine, a storm of emotions flickering there. Was it regret? Longing? For one fragile, breathless moment, or seemed as though he wanted to say more, but he remained silent, his gaze locked on mine. “Please will you promise me?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat, forcing a small smile. “That is a promise I cannot make, but I will do my best, my lord.”

He nodded, looking slightly relieved before he looked unsure yet again. His grip on my hand tightened a bit, and slowly he raised it and his lips brushed the back of my hand – a gesture both gallant and uncharacteristically tender. The warmth lingered, and a faint blush crept across my cheeks.

I wanted to say something, anything, but words failed me. There was something unsaid between us, something neither of us could find the courage to voice. But now wasn’t the time. It couldn’t be.

And just as quickly, I pulled my hand from his grasp, slipping past him and boarding the ship with the others. I took my place among the company, yet my heart felt unsteady, torn between duty and the lingering echo of his touch. The wind tugged at my hair as the sails were raised, and I glanced back at the shore, seeing Celebrimbor, standing alone at the shore, watching as the ship pulled away.

Our eyes met one final time, and I felt my heart stop as I noticed what looked like to be unshed tears in his eyes. There he stood, a lone figure, etched against the misty morning light. Even then, I couldn’t be sure what lay behind his gaze, only that his silent, unspoken plea weighed upon me as we sailed farther and farther away from the shore. But he still held my gaze, until the distance grew too great. The shore faded, and with it, everything I had left behind.

______________________________________________________________

I could not stop the feel of happiness and rejoice I felt when I spotted Elrond waiting, under the great tree of Lindon. When his eyes found mine, he broke into a smile and quickly moved toward me, a glimmer of warmth that felt like a home in a world that had recently seemed so unsteady.

“Elrond,” I greeted, a bit breathless. He held out his arms, and I gladly stepped into them, embracing him tightly.

“Arínel,” he murmured with a quiet laugh as he pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders. “You’re whole and back in one piece. Though, I will admit I half-expected to find you in some troublesome state.” His teasing tone carried an edge of genuine concern that warmed me to my core.

I laughed, feeling the tension of the past few months ease in his presence. “And deprive you of peace here in Lindon? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good, because the quiet has felt…strange without you,” he admitted with a soft smile. “Tell me, was the journey everything you hoped for?”

A shadow crossed his gaze, one I knew better than to press on here in front of others. But I could tell he felt something more – a hint of sadness, maybe, or worry.

“Perhaps not everything I’d hoped for,” I said, looking out toward the mountains beyond the city. “But it was something I needed. You understand, don’t you?”

He held my gaze for a moment, something unspoken passing between us. “Yes, I think I do,” he replied gently. Then, he squeezed my shoulder before letting go, his voice light. “We’ll have to share a proper conversation soon, now that you’re back.”

The promise of it lifted my spirits. “I look forward to it, mellon.”

A little later, when the bustle of reunions quieted, I found myself beside the familiar riverbank, the soft murmuring of the water a soothing background to my thoughts. I was tracing absent patterns on the grass when I sensed Galadriel’s presence. She approached silently, a faint but solemn smile on her face.

“Arínel,” she began, her voice softer than I was used to, more gentle, almost reverent. “I wished to thank you.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Thank me?”

She nodded, her gaze distant for a moment before meeting mine with intensity. “In the midst of…everything, you never turned your back on me. When all else seemed uncertain – when even those I trusted questioned my path – you stood firm. That loyalty is rare.”

I glanced away, feeling a warmth rise within me at her words. “I always believed in your purpose, Galadriel. I could see what you saw, even if others could not.”

A hint of sadness crossed her face, and I realized how deeply the weight of those mutinous moments still rested on her. “It takes great courage to remain steadfast in the face of doubt,” she murmured. “Without you, I am not sure I could have reached this place.”

Her hand came to rest lightly on my shoulder, and I felt the strength of her gratitude in that single touch. “You have my loyalty, Arínel. And you have my friendship,” she said, her voice rich with sincerity.

“I am honored Galadriel,” I replied quietly, meeting ger gaze, “I only did what I believed was right.”

The river flowed on beside us, the sun dipping lower on the horizon as we stood together, aware of what lay behind us but bracing for what lay ahead.

______________________________________________________________

The soft glow of the evening light filtered through the windows of the grand hall as I sat across from Elrond, savouring the familiarity of his presence after so many decades, nearly a century, apart, Lindon had changed since I had left with Galadriel’s company, yet the same air of elegance and history hung in the halls like it always had. Elrond had already been caught up in questions about the journey, the sights we had seen, and the battles we had fought. For a while, it felt as though nothing had changed. Like I’d never left.

But the undercurrent of tension between us couldn’t be ignored. Not after the things Galadriel had confided in me, nor after all that I had witnessed. The looming shadow of Sauron still plagued my thoughts, though many believed him long gone. Elrond and my brother, more than anyone had made their feelings on the matter clear.

“You still do not believe her, do you?” I said, setting my goblet of wine down, the warmth of the drink doing little to calm the growing frustration within me. “You do not believe that Sauron still lingers.”

Elrond sighed, his brow furrowing as he leaned back in his chair. “Arínel it is not a matter of belief. I respect Galadriel more than most, but she is chasing shadows – ghosts of the past. The enemy was defeated. Morgoth is gone. There’s been no sign of Sauron for centuries.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “With all respect, Elrond. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what we saw. The signs are out there, Mellon. He’s still out there, gathering strength.”

His eyes softened, though a hint of frustration flickered behind them. “I do not dismiss what you’ve been through, Arínel. But we have to look to the future, not chase after every rumour, every flicker of darkness.”

I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward. “So, what are we supposed to do? Just sit back and wait until it’s too late? Until Sauron is standing at our gates with an army behind his back?”

Elrond’s jaw tightened, and he sat up straighter, his patience wearing thin. “We cannot be ruled by fear. Galadriel…she is driven by it. She cannot let go of the past. And I fear it will destroy her. It may destroy all of you.”

His words stung, though part of me knew there was truth in them. Galadriel’s relentless search for Sauron had driven us to the brink more than once. But it was her determination, her refusal to surrender, that had brought us this far. I couldn’t help but admire her, even as it cost us so much.

I opened my mouth to argue further, but Elrond quickly cut me off. “You don’t have to be part of it, Arínel. You have a choice.”

“What choice do I have? I have committed to this, Elrond. This is my life now.”

Elrond hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Perhaps not for much longer.”

I frowned, sensing something in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He paused, his gaze dropping to the table for a brief moment before he finally spoke. “Galadriel’s company…. You’ll be granted an honour. A reward for your service.”

The pit in my stomach tightened as I watched him closely. “What reward?” I asked, my voice cold as ice.

Elrond’s eyes flickered up to meet his, guilt flashing across his face. “You are to be allowed passage to the Undying Lands. To Valinor. You’re going home.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and for a moment, I could hardly breathe. “What?” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Galadriel’s service – your service – has not gone unnoticed. This is a great honour, Arínel. The highest one we can receive.”

I shot to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. “Honour? You think this is an honour? Elrond, I didn’t fight for this. I didn’t leave my home and my people just to be shipped off to Valinor like a meddling child, like some… consolation prize.”

“Arínel, please –”

“No!” I interrupted, my voice trembling with anger. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this is what they intended, and you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even give me a choice to say no.”

Elrond stood, reaching out as if to calm me, but I backed away. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react like this. You’re exhausted. You’ve been through so much—”

“So what?” I snapped, the rage boiling inside me. “So, I should just accept it? Walk quietly onto a shop and sail away like nothing I’ve done here matters anymore? Like I’ve been used up and discarded?”

His face fell, his concern clear. “That’s not what I meant, Arínel.”

“I’m not going,” I spat, my voice shaking with fury.

Elrond’s expression hardened slightly, but he said nothing more as I stormed out of the hall, my blood roaring in my ears. I needed air, space, anything to clear my head. But I couldn’t escape the fury bubbling inside me.

I stormed across the grounds of Lindon, my feet carrying me to the one person I know was behind this. I found my brother beneath the great tree, overseeing the training of several warriors, his posture regal and calm as always. I didn’t care. I marched right up to him, ignoring the eyes of the onlookers.

“Is it true?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

My brother turned and looked at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Nésa, what –”

“Don’t nésa me! Don’t play ignorant,” I snapped, my fists clenched at my sides. “Is it true that you want us to sail to Valinor? That you’ve decided our fate without even asking! My fate!”

His expression shifted, a brief flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before it hardened into his usual clam. “It is true.”

I laughed bitterly, throwing my hands in the air. “Of course it is. Of course, you would make this decision without even asking me! Without even asking if this is what we want!”

My brother opened his mouth to respond, but I interrupted him. “So that’s it, then? We fight, we bled for this land, and when it’s over, we’re just… cast aside like tools that have outlived their purpose.”

My brother’s expression softened, but only slightly. “It Is not like that Arínel. This is a chance. A chance for you to be at peace, to live in a world untouched by the darkness that has plagued Middle-earth. You’ve been given an honour, Arínel. The chance to leave behind the suffering of this world, to find peace –”

“I do not want peace!” I snapped, my voice echoing through the training yard. “I don’t want to leave. I want to continue to fight. I want to do something with my life. Not… not sail off to some faraway land and fade into nothingness.”

He sighed, his gaze shifting to the horizon. “The darkness is gone, sister. Sauron is gone. There’s nothing left to fight.

“You don’t know that!” I retorted, taking a step closer. “You didn’t see what I saw out there. You didn’t see Galadriel – how convinced she is that the shadow hasn’t left. That Sauron is still out there, somewhere.”

My brother shook his head, his patience thinning. “You cannot live your life in fear of shadows. The enemy is defeated.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. My brother’s jaw tightened, his voice lowering. “You would turn down the greatest gift out people have been given? Why?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. It wasn’t just Sauron that was keeping me here, was it? The truth was like a stone in my chest, heavy and unmoveable. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself, but the reason I didn’t want to leave. Wasn’t entirely about the war.

It was about him.

Celebrimbor. The thought of him staying in Middle-earth, continuing his work in Eregion, while I sailed away to Valinor – leaving him behind – was unbearable. I couldn’t leave knowing he was still here, outside of my reach, never knowing when I might see him again – if I might see him again.

“Arínel?” My brother’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and insistent. “Why are you so set on staying? What are you holding on to?

I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to the ground. “I…I don’t know,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He stepped closer, his voice softening. “You do not have to decide right now. But this is an opportunity, one that may not come again. Do not let fear or uncertainty cloud your judgement.”

My heart raced in my chest, torn between the desire to stay and the need to leave everything behind. I couldn’t make sense of it. Why did this decision feel so impossible?

“Maybe I’m not ready to go,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “Maybe I still have something to do here.”

My brother regarded me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he sighed, stepping back. “I cannot stop you from making your own choice. But do not let the past, or your feelings, bind you to a path that may no longer be yours to walk.”

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He didn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure I did either.

Without another word, I turned and walked away from the great tree, my mind a storm of doubt and confusion. The shadows of Lindon stretched long before me, and for the first time in a long time, I had no idea where they would lead me.

______________________________________________________________

Elrond found me near the river’s edge, where I often wandered in times of uncertainty. I heard his footsteps on the stones behind me and I turned to see him approaching with a look of quiet determination on his face. He greeted me with a gentle nod before glancing over the water, his usual calm tinged with a sadness.

“Elrond,” I began, sensing there was something weighing on him.

He took a deep breath, then met my eyes. “I know you’re conflicted,” he started carefully. “Galadriel is just as conflicted as you. But you have both been granted the highest of honours. You’re going home.”

“Elrond, I…” I faltered, searching for the right words. “I do not know if I am ready to leave Middle-earth. Not yet.”

A faint frown touched his features. “Not ready to leave?” he watched me closely, then, as if considering something he hadn’t yet spoken aloud. “Or is it that there’s someone you are waiting for? someone who has made the leaving more difficult?”

The suddenness of his question took me aback, and I could feel the warmth rising in my cheeks. “No, that is…that’s not it at all,” I stammered, trying to steady my voice. But I could see Elrond’s expression change, the glint in his eye unrelenting, as though he had long suspected my true reason.

“Arínel,” he said softly, “do you think I haven’t seen it? You may deny it, but the heart has its own way of betraying secrets.” He hesitated, as though choosing his next words carefully. “After you left with Galadriel, there was a change in him. And I overhead him and your brother, not long after, locked in a heated argument.”

My chest tightened at the realisation that my brother and Celebrimbor had spoken of me. Until I also realised that the identity of my unrequited love was now known to Elrond. The instinct to deny surged but faltered under the weight of his knowing gaze.

“You knew it was him,” I said in a whisper, almost to myself. “How?”

Elrond’s eyes softened as he held my gaze, a glimmer of empathy beneath his calm exterior. “There were many signs,” he replied, voice gentle. “After you joined Galadriel’s company, Lord Celebrimbor was not himself for the rest of the duration of his visit. I have never seen him so visibly…affected by someone before. He seemed almost hollowed, as if a piece of him had gone with you. For rest of his visit, he wandered the halls, his mood as unpredictable as the sea. There were moments of silence, where his gaze seemed lost in memory, and others of sudden anger, even fury. He held it within, of course, but…” He shook his head, his eyes full of understanding. “There was no mistaking it.”

I felt my heart sink and flutter all at once, the knowledge both startling and strangely reassuring. “I had no idea,” I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. Elrond stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Although I fear I must still warn you, Arínel. I fear that waiting for him…it may not bring you the peace you seek. You deserve more than to linger here, hoping for something he may never be able to give.”

His words pressed into my heart, stirring a storm of emotions I’d tried to keep buried. “But considering how you said he reacted when I left, and that he…he kissed my hand the day I left,” I murmured, my voice shaking with the memory. “He asked me to stay safe, said he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to me.”

Elrond’s expression softened, but his words held steady. “Arínel, he is a kind and gentle soul. But if he cannot give you more than words that make you wait…you must decide if you’re willing to follow him down an uncertain path.”

I looked away, the enormity of his counsel settling over me. the truth of it was hard, but undeniably clear. A part of me longed to stay, hoping that Celebrimbor’s affection for me could grow, that one day he might come to see me as I saw him. And yet, another part wondered if the waiting would be endless – if my hope would only keep me bound to Middle-earth without any certainty in return.

“Elrond, I do not know If I can simply let go,” I admitted, barely louder than a whisper.

“Then do not let go of yourself in the process,” he said softly, a gentle hand resting on my shoulder. “Do not wait so long that you lose sight of who you are and what you want.” He hesitated, the warmth of his gaze strengthening. “Middle-earth is a beautiful place, but it’s not worth sacrificing your peace or your heart.”

I swallowed, nodding slowly, though my thoughts still churned. “Thank you, Elrond. I…I’ll consider everything you’ve said.”

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, and as he turned to go, a strange sense of both grief and freedom settled in my chest. His words lingered, like the last notes of a song that had struck me to the core, their wisdom unravelling something I had long held tightly.

As I stood by the river’s edge, watching the water rush on, I knew I had a choice to make. And for the first time, I began to winder if, perhaps, the future I clung to was one I might need to let go of.

______________________________________________________________

The evening was quiet, shadows stretching long and soft over the gardens of Lindon as I walked with Galadriel, our steps quiet on the path. It felt like we’d crossed so many miles together, and yet, here we were, neither of us sure of the paths that lay before us. Her face was calm, her gaze pensive as it wandered over the lands beyond.

“Arínel,” Galadriel murmured, her voice like the sigh of a distant breeze, “do you feel the weight of it? Leaving?” She didn’t look at me, only watched the stars beginning to glimmer in the fading daylight.

I hesitated, wondering how to answer her question when my own heart still tangled with uncertainty. “I do,” I said finally. “But I…I do not know if I’m ready to give up the life we have here. I’ve fought so hard for it.”

Galadriel’s gaze grew distant, a faint sadness darkening her eyes. “I know how you fell,” she replied. “We all carry attachments to this world, Arínel, Some are born of duty, others from love… and yet, we hold to them as tightly as life itself.” She paused, brushing a hand over the railing as we walked. “But some attachments are chains – subtle, gentle things that only become visible when we try to walk forward. And then we must ask: Do we truly belong where we are, or are we here out of habit and longing?”

“I can hear from your words that you’ve been speaking with Elrond,” I teased making her chuckle, as she nodded.

“I have, but that only makes the words truer.” She replied, as she gazed out over the railing.

I nodded. Her words stirred something deep within me, the subtle truth of them tightening around my heart. My mind drifted to Celebrimbor, to the years spent hoping, to the small moments of kindness that I’d cherished and held close. It was true: I had bound myself to those memories, hoping they would become something more, all the while chaining myself to a life that was slowly fading. For so long, I’d let myself linger in the shadows of the unspoken words, believing that perhaps, with time, he would finally feel as I did.

And yet…had I not been waiting all this time? I had let my heart grow heavy with hope, with yearning for what might never be. The path was clear now, even if I had avoided looking at it fully.

“Galadriel…” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat as I turned to her. “What if, by leaving, we give up the only chance we have to make things right here?”

She studied me, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “Perhaps,” she stated. “Or perhaps, there comes a time to release what we cannot change.”

As I held her gaze, the last fragments of doubt crumbled. My attachment to Middle-earth, I realised, was rooted more in the dreams I had created than in the reality I now faced. I’d been clinging to something intangible, to feelings that went unanswered, waiting for a love that had never fully taken root. And in that waiting, I’d bound myself to a future that no longer held any certainty.

In this moment, an odd peace washed over me, quiet and profound, filling the spaces where all my doubts had resided. I knew then: it was to time to let go. It was time to release the hope that had kept me here, the dream that I would one day be more than a memory to him.

Galadriel seemed to sense the shift withing me, a faint smile touching her lips. “You’ve made your decision then?”

I nodded, feeling the weight lift, leaving only the whisper of possibility. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes, I have. I’m ready to leave.” I replied.

As I spoke the words, it felt like laying down a burden I’d carried for too long. I could finally see myself in Valinor, in the undying light that awaited beyond the shores. I could finally imagine a world where I was free from the shadows of hope and regret.

We continued our walk in silence, Galadriel’s presence steady and comforting beside me. I knew there would be a pain in leaving Middle-earth, in leaving my brother, and leaving Celebrimbor and the life I had known behind. But as the stars bloomed above us, I realised that I was no longer afraid. The path before me was clearer than it had been in a while, and for the first time in my long years, I felt truly ready to take it.

______________________________________________________________

I knelt beneath the great tree of Lindon, feeling the cool, firm earth press against my knees through the thin cloth of my ceremonial armour. The branches spread above us like an ancient canopy, leaves rustling softly in the evening breeze. My cap billowed gently behind me, and I sensed the eyes of all gathered elves upon us, my brothers and sisters in arms lined up on either side, with Galadriel to my left. The High-King, my brother stood before us, his figure tall and resolute, his gaze scanning over us with both pride and something deeper, perhaps sadness.

“These most valiant of warriors kneel here before us, victorious,” he announced, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through my chest.

I glanced to my left, I caught Elrond mouthing along quietly, almost in perfect sync with my brother. A small smile crept onto my face, knowing he had written the speech, each line etched in his memory. I drew strength from the familiarity of it all, but a pang tugged at my heart. This wasn’t just another homecoming, as the rest of our company would soon find out.

“For though Morgoth fell an age ago, some feared a new evil might arise from his shadow.” My brother’s tone grew sombre. “So, for centuries now, these soldiers have swept across crag and crevice, washing away the last remnants of our enemy like a spring rain over the bones of a spoilt carcass.”

He spoke of us as heroes, cleansing the world of a lingering darkness, yet as I listened, I couldn’t shake the thought that our battle was never quite as simple as spring rain. But I met his gaze as he stepped forward, our eyes meeting in a silent acknowledgement of all we’d endured. I tried to mask the flicker of unease in my chest; he would see through it instantly.

Then, with a gentler expression, he lowered a circlet onto my head. The metal felt warm and solid, yet strangely light. He offered a small, bittersweet smile, pride glimmering in his eyes, but a deep sadness as well.

“And now, at last they return to us in triumph, for they have proven beyond any doubt that, our days of war are over,” he said, his worry seemingly meant for us but aimed at Galadriel, who shifted uncomfortably beside me.

I caught her slight sigh as she lowered her head, bowing before him, as if she could shield herself from the weight of his words. My brother’s gaze sharpened, yet he placed the golden leaf circlet upon her brow, sealing her place among us. still, I felt her reluctance ripple beneath the solemnity of the moment.

“And as a measure of our gratitude,” he continued, his tone solemn but warm, “these heroes shall be granted an honour unrivalled in all our lore. They will be escorted to the Grey Havens and granted passage across the sea, to dwell for all eternity in the Blessed Realm, the Far West. The Undying Lands of Valinor.”

He paused, letting the gravity of the words sink in. “At last, they are going home.”

A wave of applause rose around us, filling the air with a swelling pride I hadn’t felt in a long time. I rose, as did the others, and the sound of clapping and voices around us filled my senses. I smiled faintly, but my gaze shifted to Galadriel. Her eyes were distant, as though she was seeing past the crowd, past Lindon itself. There was a shadow in her expression a question lingering between her brows, and I knew, even if she did not speak it aloud, that she did not share the same peace everyone else did.

Later that night, I walked beside my brother, our path illuminated by the warm glow of fireworks that arced through the sky, lighting up Lindon’s familiar spires and towers. I watched them with a quiet reverence, feeling the weight of the coming departure press down on me.

______________________________________________________________

The sun cast a warm, golden glow of Lindon, filling the city with an almost ethereal light that stretched across every hall, every tower. Knowing I would soon leave all of this behind created an ache I could not dispel. I took to the library, as I often did when I needed a reprieve. Rows of ancient texts and scrolls, carefully bound and beautifully preserved, lined the shelves. This place had always brought me solace, each book a piece of our people’s story, our victories, our sorrows, our dreams bound between their pages.

I pulled a heavy volume from one of the upper shelves and settled into a quiet corner, flipping idly through pages, hoping the calm of the library would soothe my restlessness. My hand slipped, and the thick book in my lap tumbled to the floor with a loud thud, flipping open on impact. As I reached down, my breath hitched. An illustration of Celebrimbor was etched on the page, his proud profile accompanied by a brief passage detailing his work in Eregion, his unyielding dedication to his craft, and his legacy – the last descendant of the House of Fëanor.

I traced my fingers over the inked outline of his face, letting my hand linger over the familiar slope of his cheek, the intensity of his gaze. The artist work captured his spirit so perfectly that it almost felt as if he were there beside me, his laughter echoing in the quiet library halls, his thoughtful silences filling the space between us. The small paragraph detailing his accomplishments felt hollow, reduced to words on a page, missing the warmth of his voice, the way his eyes would light up when he discussed his latest creation. I felt a pang of loss, wondering he would ever understand what he had meant to me.

I closed the book and put it back on the shelf, with a sigh. I had come to the library for comfort but had found none, so I walked back to my chambers. I sat down at my writing desk, a blank parchment spread before me. I wrote a couple of letters to elves I would not see before I left for Valinor. I also wrote one for Círdan, even though I will see him at the Grey Havens. The words came easily as I thanked him for his guidance, he had offered me since I was a child, for the wisdom he had imparted, for his loyalty to my brother and I. And for the quiet comfort he had been. Once I finished, I folded the letter carefully, sealing it with a delicate press of wax.

I took a new spread of parchment with trembling hands and slight hesitation. I dipped my quill in the ink, but each word felt like a farewell that I wasn’t prepared to make. My hand trembled as I tried to explain my farewell to him. I wrote and rewrote my words, desperate for something that felt right, that could capture everything I’d left unsaid. But every line felt hollow, and the truth weighed heavier than any ink I could spill onto parchment.

I opened the drawer to my writing desk and with trebling hands pulled out a small and delicate bag. I opened the bag and took out the ring Celebrimbor and I had forged together. I held the ring in my palm, the glimmer of its polished surface catching the dim light of my room. It had been some time since I had looked at it closely, not since I’d taken it off my finger the day Celebrimbor rejected me. I remembered when we made it together – a simple band, had later become a beautiful ring under his watchful extra attention. Ordained with intricate etchings, the light of Eregion woven into its silver. He had added a sapphire gem and told me that it had matched the blue of my eyes. It was nothing as masterful as the Silmarils, but it might just have been for me: Because we had made it together and he had perfected it with me in mind. The ring was ours. He had given it to me, his fingertips lingering as he slipped it onto my hand with a reverence that made it seem like a promise, but alas.

After his rejection, I had tucked it away, unable to bear its touch. Yet, somehow, I had always kept it near, as if it were the last remnants of him, of the love I felt for him. I made sure to always keep the pouch with the ring inside with me during the centuries I had joined Galadriel’s company. Now, as I sat at the small desk in my chamber, a half-written letter to him resting beside my hand, I felt the familiar pang of longing I had tried so hard to quiet.

I reached for the letter, its words jagged and unsteady across the page. But even now, those words felt hollow, unfinished. And my gaze fell back to the ring, glinting like a hidden star.

With a surge of determination, I slipped it into the envelope. Perhaps it would be better this way. A final severing of what had once been, a silent farewell to the part of me that had once longed to belong to him. I sealed the envelope, pressing my fingers down on its edge, feeling a strange calm wash over me. but the moment I stood, my resolve faltered, my fingers tracing over the edge of the letter as I clutched it to my chest.

I couldn’t do it. The thought of him opening the letter, finding the ring without any words to explain – seeing it discarded, rejected…it felt like a betrayal I couldn’t bear to give him. With a trembling hand, I pulled the envelope open, the sound of tearing parchment breaking the silence. The ring slipped out and back into my palm, cool and unyielding. Without a second thought, I took a candle and held the letter over the flame, watching as the edges curled and blackened, the words reduced to ash before they had the chance to reach him.

I left the room with a hollow ache in my chest, and the weight of the unknown heavier than ever. Outside, the sun was beginning its descent, casting shadows over Lindon as I searched for my brother. I found him in his chambers, standing by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out over our city. The quiet stretched between us as I approached, my footsteps soft against the stone floor.

He turned at my approach, and his expression softened, though a deep sadness lingered in his eyes. “So, it is nearly time,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “It feels…surreal, somehow. To leave behind all that I’ve known. To leave you behind.” I struggled to keep my voice steady, but the enormity of my decision pressed down on me.

He reached out, gently resting a hand on my shoulder. “I know,” he whispered. “But you’ve given more than enough, nésa. It is time for you to find peace.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak, memories flashing through my mind – the two of us as children, laughing as we chased each other through the trees of the forests, the battles we’d fought side by side, the nights we’d stayed awake long past midnights, discussing our hopes for our people. I met his gaze, seeing my sorrow reflected in his eyes, the unspoken understanding that this was goodbye.

“I will miss you, toron,” I whispered, my voice barely holding.

He pulled me into an embrace, and I clung to him, feeling the solidity of him, the steady heartbeat beneath his chest. “And I you, nésa. You have been a part of me for so long as I have drawn breath. Remember that.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. I nodded pressing my forehead to his shoulder, memorising the feel of his arms around me, knowing it would be the last time in a long, long while.

When I finally pulled back, I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes, a rare vulnerability from someone who had always been my pillar of strength. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “May the winds of Valinor bring you peace, nésa. Until I see you again.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face as I looked up at him. I noticed that a single tear had escaped my brother’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his, savouring the moment.

______________________________________________________________

I left and retreated to my chamber, where Elrond stood waiting for me at the door, a book open in his hands as he waited. He looked up at the moment he sensed my presence.

“Elrond,” I greeted softly, my voice catching.

He closed the book and approached me, taking my hands in his, his grip gentle but steady. “I had hoped this day would not come so soon,” he admitted, his usual calm faltering.

“As did I,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

I opened my door and led him in. I walked over to my cabinet and took out a bottle of wine as I gestured for Elrond to take a seat.

“First Age bottle,” I informed as I poured us a glass, he looked shocked, but mischief glistened in his eyes.

“One might deem the occasion worthy,” I explained as I raised my glass to toast his. “To friendship,” I toasted.

“To friendship.” He repeated, as we took a sip.

He looked at me for a long moment, his gaze searching, as though he was trying to commit every detail of my face to memory. “You have always been a part of Lindon, of our people. Your absence will be felt deeply.”

I reached across the table and squeezed his hands, offering a faint smile. “Thank you, Mellon. For you friendship, your counsel… for everything.”

He smiled, a sadness mirrored in his eyes. “Promise me you’ll find peace in Valinor. That you will not let regret follow you across the sea.”

I nodded, though a part of me knew that letting go of everything would be more difficult than I cared to admit. He drew me into a warm embrace, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel the comfort of his presence, the familiar warmth that had been a constant in my life, these last few centuries.

When we pulled apart, he placed a hand on my shoulder, his gaze gentle but resolute. “Safe travels, Arínel,” he whispered.

With a final, lingering glance, he left my chambers, and I was left alone feeling the weight of my goodbyes settle upon me.

______________________________________________________________

The ship cut through the silver waves, bearing us closer to the shores of Valinor. I stood at the prow, the sea air cool against my skin, wearing my ceremonial armour. Beside me, Galadriel stood tall and proud, the soft light of the dawn touching her features in a way that made her appear almost otherworldly, as if already a part of the Blessed Realm we were destined for. I was glad that she would be going with me, that I would have a friend in Valinor. Underneath our armour we were clad in robes of soft white, our burdens left behind along with the war, or so it was said. And yet, as we sailed closer, I could feel the heaviness withing me grow.

As we drew closer to Valinor, I stood at the front of the ship, the ring now resting on my finger once more. It was strange, comforting even, the weight of it against my skin – a bittersweet reminder of all I had left behind in Middle-earth. The waves lapped at the bow as a soft song drifted from the west, mingling with the melody that had begun in my heart. a welcoming song, one of peace and promises, yet it only deepened the ache inside me.

The light of Valinor danced on the horizon like a living thing, a song drifting across the water that seemed to come from the world itself. It was a melody of peace, of eternal rest, a promise of comfort and release form sorrow. And yet, despite its beauty, I found no joy in it. My heart remained tethered to Middle-earth, and I felt a familiar pang of longing – not for Valinor, but for those I had left behind. Celebrimbor’s face came to my mind unbidden, and my brother’s final embrace. Their smiles, their voices, their presence, like the scent of the earth after rain, clung to me even as the undying light of Valinor grew nearer. As I watched in awe of the light of the Undying world, the song the heaven was singing we were de-armoured standing all in white gazing into the rift in the sky where the golden light shone.

It was in that moment that I felt it – a tension, almost invincible, like fraying thread in a tightly woven cloth. I turned to Galadriel, sensing the same unrest within her. She had the look of one burdened with more than memories, as if the light awaiting us was too bright, too final. Her fingers clenched the railing, her face set in an unreadable mask.

Without knowing why, I reached out, my hand finding hers in silent offering. Her gaze shifted to me, surprise flitting across her face. Her eyes locked onto the approaching shores, but something in her gaze flickered, a shadow crossing her features, dark and foreboding. Her hands tightened around the edge of the railing, her knuckles pale against the wood.

“Galadriel,” I whispered, reaching out a hand toward her, as I noticed her beginning to take a couple of steps back after she refused to pass over her brother’s knife.

But before I could speak another word, she looked at me, her gaze fierce and wild, and then, in a single fluid motion, her hand clasped around my wrist. There was no time to react, only a sharp intake of breath as she pulled us both over the edge of the ship, the world tilting as we plummeted into the icy embrace of the water below.

For an instant, I was submerged in the shock of it – my lungs burning as I struggled to surface, my heart pounding with a mixture of anger and confusion. We emerged from the water, grasping for air, the waves lapping at us as the ship continued its path, growing smaller in the distance, until the night sky turned black, and the ship had disappeared. I stared at her, my heart racing, anger and betrayal flooding my veins. Anger surged in my chest as I faced Galadriel.

“Galadriel” I seethed. “What have you done?” I demanded, my voice sharp as the saltwater stung my lips. “You made us leave the ship…leave Valinor behind!”

But the anger in my voice felt hollow, as though it were just a guise to mask the relief that pulsed within me. Beneath the anger, I felt a quiet thrill, a whisper of something I dared not name. the truth, frightening and strange, settled over me like the shadow of an unfamiliar ghost – I didn’t feel the terror I should have; I didn’t mourn the shores of Valinor as they faded beyond the mist.

Galadriel was silent, her gaze fixed on spot where the ship had vanished. Her face, usually so composed, held a look of unspoken turmoil, as though a war raged within her that not even the Undying Lands could quell.

For a long moment, she did not answer, her gaze lost in the distance. And when she finally spoke, her voice soft, as if she too feared the truth of her words. “There is much left undone in Middle-earth, Arínel. Darkness stirs, a shadow unbound. And we cannot turn away, not yet.”

As we floated there in the stillness, I felt the certainty settle in my heart. whatever peace might await in Valinor, it was not for us – not yet. The call of Middle-earth, of all we had left behind, sang to me as deeply as the ocean itself, filling me with a quiet, enduring purpose that no land of eternal light could erase.

The song of Valinor faded as the waves carried us father from the ship, and in that moment, my fate was sealed. My heart lay in Middle-earth with the greatest of Elven smiths, and even though he has rejected me, I cannot bear living in a world without him.

(Stay tuned for Part III)

#Celebrimbor x reader #celebrimbor #the rings of power #brimby #Gil-Galad #galadriel #rings of power fanfiction #Charles Edwards you handsome fucker #writing #Charles Edwards #fanfic

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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well we know how Alessia is clumsy right? Imagine if the reader is just as bad if not worse, the two of them are a right mess when near one another. And her and Alessia are both so oblivious to their feelings for each other that the team just have to deal with these two lovestruck clumsy idiots who tip toe around their feelings until eventually something pushes them to realise and confess

bambi II a.russo

"oh less is finally here." niamh nodded over your shoulder as you choked on your mouthful of cereal, maya smacking you on the back with a concerned look as you gasped to catch your breath.

"oh god not this again." your best friend groaned knowingly as you spat out the soggy mouthful of weetbix and downed your glass of juice. "and what's that supposed to mean?" you looked at her with a frown as niamh sighed dramatically.

"you become a walking hazard around that girl. you're clumsy enough on a regular day i don't need to be worrying about you falling down a flight of stairs and breaking your arm when she sends you a smile!" niamh rolled her eyes as you flipped her off.

"you've had a crush on her for years now, why don't you just ask her out bambi?" maya asked as she took a bite of toast and you shushed her, smacking at her shoulder for the nickname you had always detested.

"i do not! you're both deluded and i wish you'd drop this. you bring it up every camp, we've been friends for years. just friends!" you huffed in annoyance, grabbing your empty plate and standing to your feet.

however what you'd failed to notice was alessia and ella making their way over toward the table, and as you turned with the intention of a dramatic storm off you felt your body collide suddenly with someone else's.

with a grunt you fell on top of them, face flushing red with embarrassment as your eyes met those oh so familiar blue ones, alessia's own cheeks tinted pink. "hi less! i'm so sorry." you squeaked out and apologized, hastily rolling off of her and getting to your feet, helping the taller girl up.

"you know if i knew that you missed me so much i'd have come said hi sooner." alessia sent you a smile which you reciprocated, the blonde wrapping you in a tight hug hello before sitting down and greeting the rest of your friends.

ignoring niamh and maya's smirks you hurried off to get ready for training, the two girls covering up their laughs with their hands as you tripped over a chair leg and almost hit the deck again before mary hastily grabbed the back of your jumper, saving you from further embarrassment.

"let me guess, just saw alessia?" "oh shut up mary."

"i saw you went to italy over the break, how was it?" you asked with a soft smile as you walked back to the change rooms beside alessia, the two of you having been paired up for the last drill of the day.

"it was lovely thank you, and so sunny! i miss it already i can feel my tan slipping away with every second." the blonde groaned pulling back the sleeve of her jumper with a pout, poking at her still very tanned skin.

"yeah clearly you're looking like a vampire!" you rolled your eyes playfully, knocking your shoulder into hers gently. alessia attempted to bump you back but being just as clumsy as you of course she miscalculated.

alessia missed you entirely, suddenly falling sideways and onto the pitch with a grunt, grabbing out at you to steady herself but accidentally just taking you down with her.

"and there she goes! the bigger they are the harder they fall." ella clapped sarcastically as niamh hurried over to help you up and millie hoisted alessia to her feet, the blonde striker apologizing profusely before speed walking away with a shake of her head, ella racing off after her.

"do you think they'll ever realise they're in love with one another?" millie slung an arm over niamhs shoulder as the two watched you head off toward the change room, both girls playing with you at chelsea knew you better than you knew yourself it would seem.

"god i hope so. we need them both unbroken for the qualifiers next week and if they keep up this way they'll be getting together in an ambulance!"

"y/l/n you're up!" the training staff called for your turn for testing, one of the last of the day as the rest of the girls sat on the sidelines chugging their waters.

with a determined nod you zoned in, acing the first few activities without any issues. only when you glanced over to the side and noticed alessia watching you intently you panicked, miss stepping and slipping on the ball at your feet you fell to the floor mid run, taking down several mannequins with you as you squealed and landed on your back with a thud.

your cheeks burnt scarlet as you heard the laughter from the sidelines instantly at your blunder, burying your face in your hands with a sigh. "come on, up you get now." you peeked out from your fingers seeing your captains grinning face staring down at you as she extended her hand.

"now mate i've seen you do some impressive falls over the years but that one, that one took the cake." leah hauled you up to your feet and patted you on the back with a laugh as you groaned in embarrassment.

"don't remind me i'm never gonna live this down."

"less just tell her you like her man! i don't get it." ella whispered to alessia as the two stood in line awaiting their turn to grab lunch. "shut up tooney! i do not." alessia hissed, shoving the shorter girl as she glanced around frantically, sighing in relief not seeing you anywhere within earshot.

"whatever you sayyy." ella sung out with a tut, holding her plate out eagerly as the two of them chatted with the chefs. "god that smells good!" alessia dropped her plate with a loud smash as you appeared beside her, stumbling backwards into ella and knocking her own plate down to the ground as well with her elbow.

"aw less come on!" ella groaned loudly in annoyance dragging her hands down her face, the tips of the italians ears flushing bright red as she apologised over and over to the staff who hurried to clean everything up.

"good thing you're not a goalkeeper with those hands." you joked, nudging her lightly with a soft smile trying to ease her obvious embarassment, alessia mumbling something inaudible before running off to change out of her now food stained training kit.

entering the change room you swore as you slipped on someones stray boot, not paying attention to where you were going, only just catching yourself from falling as the teasings exploded around you.

"i think we need to wrap you in bubble wrap bambi." millie chuckled as you sat down beside her at your locker, ignoring the comment with a roll of your eyes as you started to change into your own boots.

taking your time most of the team had filtered out for training, and you were so zoned out of it you didn't even hear alessia sit down by you at her own locker focused on plaiting her hair.

you jumped a little as she dropped her brush and it cluttered to the floor beside you, knocking you out of your trance as you tied up your laces and reached out to grab her brush.

"here less-" you straightened as the blonde bent down to grab the brush herself, causing her forehead to smash into your nose quite suddenly.

you let out a groan of pain and clutched at your face, dropping alessia's brush to the ground again as the strikers features paled in concern, her hands settling themselves gently either side of your face.

"oh my god i am so so sorry! are you okay?" "yeah...but i think you broke my nose."

"i seem to see the two of you so often i'm considering naming one of the benches in your honour." richard the head doctor chuckled as he opened the door, your stomach fluttering as alessia guided you inside with her hand on the small of your back, not having left your side since everything happened.

"whats happened here then?" the man sighed, gesturing you take a seat up on the table as he grabbed out some wipes, starting to clean the dried blood from around your nose as you grimaced in pain, alessia's stomach lurching with guilt as you recounted what had happened.

her cheeks flushed red as you hastily reached out to grab her hand, squeezing tightly as richard gently poked and prodded at your tender nose.

the blonde shook her head trying to ignore the tingling sensation at your fingers being interlocked with yours.

"well the good news is it isn't broken! just a little swollen." richard explained with a smile as alessia let out a sigh of relief where she was stood beside you. "certainly feels like its broken." you pouted as you poked gingerly at your face.

"but it means no playing for two weeks, minimum. one bad knock and you'll break it properly, which would mean a minimum six weeks out." he announced and your body instantly deflated, knowing that meant you'd not be fit for squad selection for the upcoming national games.

"god i'm so sorry." alessia winced and you felt her gaze pierce into the side of your head but you couldn't bring yourself to meet it, nodding at richards words and sliding off the table, dropping the strikers hand.

"thanks rich, i'll go speak with sarina." you shot him a small smile and shuffled toward the door once he'd given you an icepack and some further instructions of aftercare, alessia following after you. she stayed by your side, head racing with thoughts but remaining silent, too overwhelmed to even voice what she was thinking.

"hey, you know i'm not mad at you right?" you paused, turning to look at her with a small but reassuring smile. "no you have every right to be, i'm so so sorry." the blonde stammered out, breath hitching as you grabbed her hands in yours and squeezed softly.

"but i'm not, it was an accident. they don't call me bambi for nothing, niamh's not wrong when she says im like a walking wet floor sign; always warning everyone of the hazard thats yet to come." you joked lightly, causing the taller girl to crack a small smile.

"don't blame yourself, please. just score a few goals and help us win to make it up to me!" you smiled before dropping her hands and veering right, intending to go and find your manager.

"what about i take you to dinner instead?"

your body froze at her words, alessia nervously fiddling with her hands, almost in shock at the words that had left her mouth.

"let me take you to dinner. please, to make up for it." the blonde steadied herself and spoke with much more confidence than she was really feeling.

"like a....date?" you asked cautiously, aware that these three words could make or break everything.

"yeah, exactly like a date."

#woso blurbs #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt

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jsprnt · 8 months ago

Text

Americano PT. 5 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: pff, this was a long one, enjoy babes. A heads up in advance, I’ll be taking a break in the first week of April due to my exams 🫶

W/C: 4.558

part four

"Come in here and bring your laundry hamper!"

"Just a second, dad!"

I jump out of bed, leaving my phone on the other end of it, and grab the pink hamper. I hold onto the handles tightly as I make my way out of my room.

I see him standing over the washing machine in the laundry room. I enter quickly, the both of us starting to sort out the dirty clothes and putting them in the machine accordingly.

"Did you finish packing?" My dad asks, glancing at me before grabbing the laundry detergent and fabric softener out of the cabinet above me.

"Yeah, just a couple basic things. It's like a 2-3 day trip."

He pours the blue liquid into the cap, checking the measurements before pouring it into the designated compartment. Doing the same thing with the fabric softener.

"Really? No fancy dress or anything?"

I look up from the washing machine, a sheepish smile forming on my face. I watch him shake his head in disbelief, a smile on his face as he turns the machine on.

"When I sent you abroad- I thought your aunt would raise you exactly like I would. But I forgot she probably raised you to love dressing up like her. You know, she used to terrorize me in my own room growing up, only because I had bigger windows and thus better lighting for when she did her makeup.." He shakes his head, chuckle leaving him as he reminisces.

I laugh at him, the smile on my face bigger now.

"I think packing something proper is very important. It worked out pretty well last Saturday when we went for dessert in Girona."

"Just stay safe when going out. It's a dangerous world, honey." He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I purse my lips at his words, remembering what had happened just a couple nights ago. He didn't know about the entire debacle, but since it was already dealt with, I didn't see a reason to bring it up.

"When are you getting up?"

"Not super early, like around eight? The match isn't until Tuesday, so no early flight."

"You know, it's almost twelve, right? Go to bed already, and don't go on your phone." He tuts, scolding me and pushing me towards my room.

"Alright, I'll go to bed."

"Goodnight, I love you." He says, kissing my forehead before he makes his way down the stairs.

"Love you too!" I shout as I watch him walk away while I stand in front of my bedroom door. The silence of the house surrounding me when I’m left alone.

The team had finally wrapped up training for the day. We had arrived in Napels that morning, and they had trained hard until late in the afternoon.

This left us with some free time for the rest of the day, until we had to prepare for the match tomorrow.

"You've been doing your makeup for about 40 minutes now." I hear Luis complain, lying flat on his back on top of my bed.

"I could be meeting my future Italian husband out there! Come on, let me look cute for tonight."

I darken up my eye makeup, coloring my waterline with a black pencil to contrast my white dress.

I then drench my face in setting spray, fanning it dry with a random brochure, I found on the nightstand.

"Besides, you're wrinkling your clothes, stand up. I can't have you looking bummy! What if you find yourself a pretty lady?" I wink, struggling to hold back a laugh at the unimpressed expression he sends me.

I finally stand up from the chair, smoothing down my dress in front of the mirror, and adjust the slit a little.

"We can go now!"

"Are you drinking?"

"No, not feeling it tonight." I mutter, eyeing the delicious-sounding food on the menu.

I look up, watching Luis flip through the menu.

"I'm going to order a pizza."

"Why pizza?" He asks, looking at me.

"We are practically in the birthplace of pizza. Are you judging me?" I ask, raising a brow at him.

"Just get it, I'm not judging you.." He raises his hands as if to surrender.

"You're so mean when you're hungry." He mumbles, closing his menu.

"Just appreciate the fact that I dragged you here. Look at how beautiful the view is.

I turn, admiring the view behind the glass panels of the restaurant. The Vesuvius mountain and the water are absolutely breathtaking, especially right now during sunset.

He sighs at me in agreement, looking around to find a waiter for us to finally order our food.

I watch him order for the both of us, getting distracted by the view, and turn towards him when the waiter leaves.

"If you get hammered, I'll leave you here.."

"So, now you want to find an Italian girlfriend?" I ask Luis bewildered, watching him walk - no stumble in front of me.

The drinks he ordered were good, so good he felt inclined to ordered multiple of them. I didn't keep count, but he definitely had more than his limit, which made him the drunk mess he was right now.

"Of course, you're my best friend. We should each find a person to marry!" He slurs, walking towards the docks.

I sigh deeply, looking down at my heels, before jogging up to him, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

"You're going to fall into the water!" I shout, trying to hold him back from the edge, but he shouts in protest.

"It's fine, maybe one of these hot people will save me from drowning."

Oh my god

I look up to where he's pointing, seeing a group of people on an expensive-looking catamaran. I'm way too distracted to realize my grip on Luis has loosened, and watch him leave. I see him greet the partying people loudly. I close my eyes in embarrassment, wanting to jump into the water out of shame.

Who even parties on a random Monday evening?

I surprisingly hear someone shout something in what sounds like Italian. I turn my head, eyes searching as I turn my attention to the person.

My eyes meet the eyes of a tall, brown-eyed, beautifully sun-kissed man. His blue linen shirt halfway unbuttoned.

He looked like, and definitely is trouble.

I hear him say something again, and my eyes widen when they go back to Luis, who looks like he's having the time of his life with two girls.

"English?" I hear the beautiful stranger ask.

I nod, watching him walk towards the dock and then, interestingly enough, reach for my hand.

I would never leave Luis alone on this boat full of strangers. Therefore, I reluctantly grab the guy's hand as he pulls me onto the boat.

"Hi?" I greet, raising a brow. Quickly smoothing my dress down.

"Hello, and your name is?" He asks, eyes roaming up and down my body, definitely checking me out. The Aussie accent practically melting me on the spot, making it difficult for my jaw to stay closed.

He was the definition of trouble.

But I needed to get my mess of a friend off this damn boat and leave.

"y/n, yours?" I ask, pretending to be more interested than I am, sneakily glancing at Luis.

"I'm Chris. You're not from here, are you?"

Obviously not

"No, I'm actually from Valencia."

A white lie, he didn't have to know anything about me.

"Valencia, Spain? What are you and your friend doing here?"

"Visiting, for fun." I lie again, giving him a smile.

"Really? Having fun so far?" He smiles, his pearly white teeth blinding me.

"Yeah, a lot of fun." I reply, my brows raising in fake interest.

I watch him chuckle, his plump lips curling up. His arm going up to run a hand through his blonde locks.

"Care for a drink, then?"

As beautiful as this man was, I wasn't naive enough to accept a drink from him. Especially, since we were in a totally different country.

"I'm fine, actually. I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'm trying to not drink as much."

"Oh, you probably came to watch the Champions League game then?"

Got me, kind of.

I immediately pull a sour face, pretending to be disgusted.

"Of course not, I have better things to do than attend a Real Madrid match. If it wasn't for Valencia, I'd be for Barcelona anyway.."

That one physically hurt to say.

"Oh- don't get mad now." He teases, putting his hands up, his smile getting wider.

I had to leave hastily, at least before this man got me into his bed.

"You're fine. I'm just trying to get my friend and leave. You alright with that?"

"Let me get your number first. Don't think I'll forget you after tonight." He says, handing me his phone.

I was curving the man left and right, and he still wanted my number?

"I don't really give out my number. But I can give you my Instagram handle?"

"That's fine." He says, clicking on his Instagram.

I watch his screen, my eyes accidentally catching the number of girls on his explore page.

No way, this man was looking for something serious.

"Oh, I'll type it in. If that's alright?" I say, reaching for his phone. He nods, handing me the device.

I quickly type in my username, pressing follow.

To snoop a little further, I go back to the explore page, seeing more ass and boobs than I had prepared for. Pretending to be unfazed as I clear the Instagram tab and hand his phone back to him.

I mean, their bodies were amazing, but why the hell was he following them?

"That's it. Here you go. My phone is dead, so I'll talk to you later?" I say, fidgeting with my handbag. My social battery was dying even faster than normal tonight.

I watch him nod, his eyes on me, as I immediately make my way to Luis, who's now sitting with a random girl.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt, but we have to leave."

I grab onto Luis' arm, using all my strength to get him up. Noticing the amount of shot glasses and empty beer bottles in front of them.

How the hell did he manage to do that so fast?

Idiot.

"Wait, do you want his Instagram?" I ask the girl. She hesitates before nodding looking at us confused.

"Okay, well, let me spell it for you."

I spell his username quickly, turning away.

"Yes, that's it. We're not a thing, by the way- he's my brother. Bye!"

Another lie, but maybe it would help him in the long run.

"Let's go, come on." I groan, dragging Luis back to the hotel.

It was doable until he started leaning his body on me, making me slump partially. My heels beginning to hurt my feet more than ever.

After a good ten minutes of struggling, we finally enter the elevator of the hotel, his body weight starts to pile on me. Arriving at our correct floor I drag him out, a huge sigh of relief leaving my lips as I recognize some of our Real Madrid players.

"Help." I mumble, watching some of them recognize the fact that I was half-suffocating.

I watch Antonio, Aurélien, and Jude, of all people, walk towards us, getting drunk and passed out Luis off of me.

"Thank you." I sigh, fixing myself, watching Antonio comically throw Luis onto one of the seats there.

"What happened to him?" I hear Brahim say as I try to catch my breath and I readjust my grip on my bag.

"Long story."

"Let's put him to bed first." Antonio says, making me nod. All of our eyes moving to a passed-out Luis.

"So, he got into a random boat?" Federico asks, looking at me.

I nod, trying to hold back a laugh while I drink my water. The cardigan I had retrieved from my room keeping me warm as we sat in the sky lounge.

"I would've partied." I look up at Cama, shaking my head.

"They were strangers, come on! But- one guy did approach me." I say, sending him a smug look.

"So you had some fun!"

"Look, he was cute. He offered me a drink, but I refused."

"That's it? Come on..”

"Why are you all up in my business?" I joke, being half-serious, hearing some of them laugh.

I finish my cup of water, beginning to stand up from my seat.

"It's getting late, I'm going up to my room. Don’t make it late, you guys need to rest well!" I say, waving after they send me off with kind words.

I press the elevator button, crossing my arms as I wait for it to arrive. The doors open a few seconds later, and I step in. I raise my head in surprise when I see an arm hold the doors open. Surprise turns into irritation when I notice Jude step in.

"Why did you follow me?" I ask, playing with the clasp on my bag.

"You know, not everything is about you." He mutters, a fed-up expression on his face. I sigh, closing my eyes in impatience, as I lean against the elevator wall.

The elevator makes a noise, and I check the floor number, getting out, hearing him follow me.

I start rummaging through my handbag for my room-key. Finally, fishing it out as we walk up to our respective rooms.

I arrive at my door, hearing Jude walk up to his own, his room interestingly enough being across from mine.

I go to scan my card but freeze, realizing my door is open by a small sliver.

"Why is my door open?" I mumble to myself, trying to subdue my instant panic.

"What?" I hear, seeing Jude walk up to me from the corner of my eye. His eyes darting in between me and the door.

"You left it open, probably." He responds, not an ounce of concern in his voice.

"You think?"

"Yeah, since you're so good with doors-"

"Okay, stop right there." I mutter, pushing the door open further. I flick the light on, looking around cautiously.

I hear him scoff at my behavior, and I turn around to look at him.

"Can you check the room?" I ask, trying to sound as nice as possible.

"No." He deadpans, giving me a bored look.

I hold back a string of cuss words, stepping into the room as he stands at the doorway.

"Stay here at least, before I get murdered."

"Would be a sight." He mutters, voice laced with humor. Though, I found it difficult to see this situation as funny.

"You're not funny. Are you aware of that?" I ask, punching into the curtains to check if anyone's hiding behind them.

"Find anything, detective?"

"Shut up." I whisper, going to open the bathroom door, hesitating for a moment.

Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins. I try to take deep breaths to prepare for a fight.

"What if someone's actually here?" I whisper, my eyes wide, as I turn to look at Jude.

I watch his expression harden, his jaw tensing as he looks at me.

"What do you mean?!" I hear Jude whisper back. His voice is hushed and more low than usual.

I take off both of my heels, ready to bash the possible intruder’s head in with my heels.

"Call security." I whisper, preparing to fight. I watch him take out his phone, before he raises his head again. His expression darkens for a moment before it changes into something- else...

"What are you doing, idiot? Come here." He says, and I can almost make out a vein popping out of his forehead.

All of the sudden, he makes his way over to me, grabbing my wrist and dragging me out of my room. Shutting the heavy door behind me, his hands coming up to my shoulders.

"What is wrong with you? You don't even know if they're with a weapon or anything!" He shouts in a hushed voice, his Brum accent more prominent than ever.

I continue staring at him, my lips parting in realization.

Damn, I was such a shallow thinker in times of crisis.

My mind turns blank, not acknowledging Jude's presence anymore. I can only hear him sigh and mumble something as security from both the club and hotel arrive at my room.

"Could you take her somewhere else, sir?” I hear someone say, feeling my wrist being pulled abruptly by Jude.

I follow him blindly, but I try to look back at my room. Wanting to see if someone would actually appear out of my room.

"Don't look." I hear, looking in front of me again as I’m brought into the hotel room across from mine. Nicer and bigger, definitely his.

"Sit down." He orders, pulling my wrist again and making me sit on one of the cushioned chairs.

I oblige without protest, too dazed to react in a snarky way. The silence in the room feels like hours when only being about ten minutes. It is finally cut off as Jude's phone starts ringing loudly.

I hear him speak for a few minutes before he hangs up. I watch him walk towards me as he sits in the chair next to me.

"No one was there, they checked the cameras as well. You left the door open."

I cringe, realizing my own initial mistake. A shudder runs through me as he explains.

"Oh, great!" I mumble sarcastically, feeling embarrassed, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress. Only now realizing I was barefoot, my heels probably fell out of my grasp when he pulled me out of the room.

I get up when he finishes explaining, walking up to the door. Pulling my soft cardigan closer to soothe myself.

"Where are you going?" I hear Jude ask. I turn and look back at him.

"Back to my room." I say, suddenly feeling the day's exhaustion take effect. My vision becoming blurry as I feel an ache make its way to my head.

This day alone probably took five years off my lifespan.

I hear him sigh as he walks up to me. Feeling him put his hand on my right shoulder.

"What?" I ask, looking him up and down. Trying to shrug his hand off of my shoulder.

I watch his jaw tense again, his grip on my shoulder getting tighter, though, not getting to the point of hurting.

I open my mouth to speak again, as he doesn't bother to answer my question. Unfortunately, I’m stopped by a sharp pain shooting through my head.

I groan in pain, placing my hands on my temples as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" I hear him whisper, his other hand making its way to my left shoulder.

"I'm fine..." I dismiss, taking his hands off my shoulders. I reach for the door handle, pulling it down and stepping out of the room.

I tap my card against the sensor hurriedly and open my door, turning to see his door across the hallway already shut.

"Doesn't even care to watch me go inside." I mutter, ridding myself of my clothes and taking a much-needed shower. Trying to wash off all my stress and embarrassment.

When I'm done, I make a beeline to my bed, closing my eyes and forcing myself to sleep. I shift and turn, groaning in frustration as I turn my pillow around for the nth time.

It's like my sleep was robbed of me within minutes. My thoughts keeping me up. I check the time, realizing it was almost two in the morning.

I begin getting fully paranoid, my stupid brain making up the craziest scenarios imaginable.

I bury my face deeper into my pillow, forcing my brain to shut up. Finally, managing to fall asleep, too tired to keep my anxious walls up.

"You look like a truck ran you over."

"Shut up." I snarl replying to Jude. Trying to ignore him further as I continue eating my food, Luis sitting across from me at the breakfast buffet.

I had gotten maybe five hours of sleep. My three layers of concealer weren’t doing its job today. It had creased within minutes of application.

I roll my eyes as he sits at the table next to us, probably to annoy me further.

“Someone get this weirdo away from me..” I say loudly, closing my eyes in prayer.

I hear Jude scoff, following it up with a laugh.

"Were you born insufferable, or do you practice in the mirror before going to bed?" I ask, poking at my food.

I hear him chuckle again, which makes my blood boil even more. I glance at Luis, seeing a grin forming on his face.

"You too?"

I had told him everything that had happened last night, him feeling embarrassed but finding it hilarious at the same time.

He did promise he'd make it up to me.

"Don't forget how I dragged your ass from the dock to the hotel. I could've easily left you there."

I threaten, looking at Luis as I shove another spoonful of food in my mouth.

I see Jude open his mouth, but I stop him with a hand as my phone rings. My dad calling me right at the perfect moment.

"Oops, sorry, too busy for whatever you want to say."

I realize how immature I sound, but I digress. I get up and answer the call. Chatting to my dad about the past few days.

I signal for Luis to stop filming, patting his back to commend him for his hard work after the final whistle is blown. A nice 3-2 putting us on top of the table.

"They played really well."

I hum, posting the last social media post and turning to him.

"Right, if they keep playing like this, we'll definitely end up at the top of table C for sure."

"We'll go far. That's without question."

We make our way inside, trying to rush to get inside on time.

"Hugo is saying to interview both Frederico and Jude." I mutter, rereading the text message.

"That's fine, let's just wait here until they're ready." He says, both of us waiting in front of the changing room as they pile inside. Tired expressions on all of their faces.

"By the way, have you seen this one guy that's working here? He's so cute for you." I hear Luis say, looking up at him confused.

"Which one?" I ask, fidgeting with the cable of the camera.

"I'll show you when I see him." He says, and I give him a look.

"He better be cute, since you're making me wait."

"Alright, that's it." I announce, looking at Jude. Finally wrapping up his interview.

"Thank you." He mutters, with less attitude this time. Probably way too tired to have a petty fight with me. I wasn't disappointed with that, to be honest. I couldn't stand speaking to him anymore.

"See you on the bus, man." I hear Jude say, giving Luis a handshake as he begins walking away. My eyes follow him, piercing into his back.

"See, that's the guy I was talking about." I hear Luis say, my head snapping towards the direction he was looking at.

"Which one-" I begin, shamelessly looking at the guy.

"What? No, are you serious?" I ask, appalled by the person he’s shipping me with.

"Yeah, he's cute for you." He mutters, giving me a smirk.

"You might be hungover still. Let's just get into the bus, please."

We pack our equipment up, starting to walk towards the team buses. Successfully helping fellow staff with the multiple suitcases and bags and stepping up into the vehicle.

We greet the players we make eye contact with, the both of us walking along the occupied seats until we finally find two empty ones next to each other.

"I'm tired..." I mumble, leaning my back against the seat, closing my eyes as I get comfortable. Leaving my phone on my lap.

"I can see that." I hear Luis reply, and I open one of my eyes to give him an offended look.

"How sweet of you." I reply, trying to take a quick fifteen-minute nap. Running around for more than two hours with five hours of sleep was not for the weak.

I was part of the weak.

I hear the sound of a notification, surprised it could be heard through all of the chatter and banter of everyone in the bus.

"Was that your phone?" I ask, leaning my head against the window.

"No, it was yours." Luis answers.

"Can you read it for me? You know my password."

I feel my phone being removed from my lap, a second of silence from Luis before he starts laughing uncontrollably.

"What?" I ask, getting curious.

What could be that funny?

"It's a DM from a Chris on Instagram."

"Who the fuck is Chris?" I ask, finally opening my eyes to take my phone back. My eyes roaming around the screen, reading a short message with a 'view once’ photo.

"Thought you repped Valencia?"

I read the message out loud, looking back at Luis, confused. Then I look at the profile picture.

"Oh my god! It's the guys from the boat!" I shout, embarrassed when I realize I was being louder than necessary.

"The one you talked about?"

"Yeah- wait, what do you think the photo is?" I ask, starting to feel squirmy.

"A dick pic." I hear Luis whisper.

"Who got a dick pic?"

I hear someone ask, looking at the row behind me. Jude peeking his head in between our headrests.

"Not you, so mind your own business.." I reply, moving my phone out of his view and returning to my conversation with Luis. Ignoring the daggers he’s sending me with his piercing gaze.

"No way, gross. He looked desperate, but no way."

"Well, click on it."

"No, now I'm scared. Why would you even bring that up?"

"Just squint."

I huff, leaning back against the widow, squinting as I press on the photo.

"Oh-" I exclaim, taking a deep, relieved breath.

Thankfully, it’s not an explicit picture, but a photo of me at the stadium we were just at, prematch to be specific. From the angle, you could tell the photo was taken from the stands.

"Wait- what the fuck? He was there? Ew, why did he take a photo of me?” I say, showing Luis the screen.

I watch his mouth fall open. He reaches over, taking my phone from me and screenshots the photo.

"That's why he sent that message. You lied to him about yourself, right?"

"Of course I did!" I say, snatching the phone from his hand.

"What do I say?" I ask, looking at him with a questioning look.

"Do you even want to speak to him?"

"Well- I'm bored?" I give him a grin, his arm coming to push me.

“I can’t stop you, but you said he looked like trouble, so ignore him..." He advises, squeezing my arm.

I nod at his words, taking them in. I swipe to press the mute button on the chat, and turn my phone off.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

Text

Love Me Tender | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, depression, dbf!Joel, love and tender care, tooth-rotting fluff, age gap (Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in their mid 20’s), no outbreak!Joel, Joel helps reader take a bath, implied sexual relations but no smut or anything is mentioned in detail at all, mentions of lack of eating / eating food, no use of y/n. some of the descriptions of depression and anxiety in here may be triggering, so please either proceed w/ caution or ignore this one shot entirely. I love u all so much!

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: after a terrible mental week, joel checks in on you and makes sure you’re taken care of.

based on an anon request.

Your dad had been on a work trip all week, leaving you to fend for yourself while you were home alone. Not that you couldn’t particularly do that; you were in your twenties after all.

It’s times like this that you wish he didn’t leave, though. Your mental health had taken a plummet. It started with an anxiety attack that came upon you because you were sure no one was going to hire you, a fresh college graduate, and you’d be a burden to your father for living at home this long.

Your dad was a loving man and never gave any implication that you living back at home would be any problem whatsoever. Your mind was just on constant overdrive and one thing led to another, digging yourself further into a black hole of your overwhelming emotions.

When you usually get into funks like this, you tend to take a walk during the day to let the sun dose you of natural serotonin, but you couldn’t even get yourself to get out of bed lately. You couldn’t shower, couldn’t really eat, and the anxiety attacks were constant. Your mind just kept telling you you’re not good enough, you never will be. Your thoughts snowballed and spiraled from there.

And so, you laid in bed curled into a fetal position as tears streamed down your face. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer your phone that had been ringing on your bedside table, so you simply just ignored it. You’d check in with your dad every day to let him know you were okay, but today, you just forgot.

You heard the front door of your house open, and your fight or flight should’ve been kicking in, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Darlin’? It’s me, Joel.” You heard a voice call, and you relaxed just a little knowing it was just him. You didn’t answer him, but heard his heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs anyway.

You heard a soft knock on your bedroom door, and your muffled sobs are what made Joel come in. His heart shattered at the sight before him. He’s never seen you in such a state, and in this moment, wanted to do anything to help you.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You felt the bed dip on the unoccupied side as Joel sat on it, reaching out to touch your arm gently.

You were so choked up that you couldn’t swallow your own sobs, and you shook your head as you tried to control your breathing.

“Talk to me, honey. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” His voice is gentle as his body maneuvers itself behind you. He’s laying down now and he wraps an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Mental health is shit.” You mumble, trying to calm yourself down. Joel’s touch alone seemed to relax you just a little, so maybe it was a good thing that he was there to check on you. Then you remembered how you haven’t showered for the past four days and how disarrayed your hair must’ve looked, and the bags under your eyes due to lack of sleep. Joel’s only ever seen you dolled up, or with minimal natural makeup on at the least.

You didn’t even want to begin what he thought of you now. He probably wouldn’t even want to touch you after this.

You shake the nasty thought away, finally letting your eyes meet his as he slightly hovers over you. His eyes are full of worry and sadness, because he’s truly never seen you with this pained look in your eyes.

“Why are you here, Joel?” You croak, sniffling abruptly.

“Your dad called me and said you hadn’t been answering your phone and asked me to check in on you. I also wanted to check in personally because you haven’t texted me all week, darlin’. I look forward to your sweet messages.” Joel coos, bringing his hand up to swipe his thumb across your tear-stained cheek.

“Oh.”

“Baby, c’mon. Sit up,” Joel helps you sit up, and you softly whine as you did so. Your head was throbbing from all of the crying you were doing. “Tell me what’s wrong, angel. Why’s it been bad?”

“‘M not good enough.” You managed to hiccup, burying your face in the sleeves of the oversized hoodie you wore.

Joel didn’t say anything at the moment, just let you ride out the waves of your emotions as he held you gently in his arms. After about ten minutes, you moved your sleeves away from your face and looked at him again. Joel tilted your chin up gently, smiling softly at you. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a second.

“You will always be good enough, darlin’.” He knows that his words may have not been super reassuring at the time, but you were grateful that he was trying.

“I’ve just been so stressed lately. Feels like I can’t do anything right in life right now. I’m a mess.” You mumble sadly, looking down at your knotted hands.

“Hey now, don’t say that. You’re doing amazing especially given the cards that you’ve been dealt. This is just a bump in the road, not a dead end.” Joel’s words warmed your heart a little, and you cracked the faintest smile.

“There’s that pretty smile I see wantin’ to shine through. C’mon baby. I know you don’t accept help from anyone and want to do everything on your own, but this doesn’t have to be one of those things. Please let me help you.”

You’d been so adamant about being independent and figuring everything out for yourself, but god, look where your stubbornness got you.

You nod your head slowly, and Joel helps you out of bed. He walks you to your bathroom and draws a warm bath. He helps you take off your sweater and your underwear, guiding you into the tub slowly. You hiss at your sore, achy body as you make contact with the nice warm water. You close your eyes for a second to relish in the feeling of warm comfort.

When you open your eyes again, Joel’s looking at you with concern. Not the usual lust-painted look he has when he sees you naked like this. This time, it was worry, heartbreak, maybe even love.

He tears his eyes away from your face before reaching for your shampoo bottle. He wets your hair then gently massages the shampoo into your scalp, and you close your eyes in a moment of pure bliss. You move your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs.

You suddenly felt super vulnerable in front of Joel as your hazy, clouded mind of emotions started to slowly clear up.

Joel didn’t say anything if he noticed that you were beginning to close yourself off again. He just finished rinsing and washing your hair in silence. He then began to wash your body, gently dragging the sudsy washcloth over your skin. You shuddered at his touch. It was nice to feel it in a way that had no sexual intent.

Once he was done washing your body, he rinsed you off and helped you out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around your body and wrung out your hair. He got the brush from your bathroom counter and brushed your hair out for you, leaving a gentle kiss at the crown of your head when he was done.

He ushered you slowly out of the bathroom and back into your bedroom. Your eyes met his through the full body mirror you had, and he gave you a soft smile. He went through your dresser drawers to pull out a clean outfit for you, which was a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt. He gently grabbed the hem of the towel and looked down at you, silently asking for permission. You nodded slowly and he unwrapped the towel from your body.

Your eyes met his through your mirror once more, and he sighed. “You’re so beautiful, angel. I really hope you know that.” He kissed your bare shoulder. His words were sincere, and the look in his eyes told you that he really meant it. He helped you into your sweats and t-shirt, then brought you back to your bed.

“You need sleep, sweetheart. C’mon. I’ll be right here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Joel lays down with you, brushing his fingers through your damp hair.

Your eyes were heavy as you rested your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.

When you woke up, you noticed the sun had gone down. Joel was still underneath you, but his steady breathing assured you he fell asleep himself. It was nice to wake up in his arms, to be comforted like this by a man who was as tough and brooding as Joel.

He had a soft spot for you, and it genuinely warmed your heart.

You shifted your tired eyes to look up at him. He looked so peaceful sleeping; like he didn’t have a problem in the world and the usual furrow in his brow had completely dissipated. He looked younger this way. More carefree.

He must’ve sensed a shift in movement, because his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?” He asks, bringing a hand to cup your jaw gently. You give him a soft smile, bringing your own hand up to caress the stubble on his chin. He watched you carefully, wondering what was going through your mind.

“‘M okay. Just got a headache is all.” You said.

“You need to eat, darlin’.”

You nodded in knowing, but the thought of eating seemed so exhausting. You just wanted to sleep. But, you know Joel would put up a fight and make you eat something, even if it was small.

“I know.”

“I can fix something up for you, or we can order your favorite takeout.” He offers, gently bringing his lips to your forehead once more. You’d never felt so much tenderness and care from the man, so the fact that he was being as gentle as he was almost astonished you. You knew he was capable of doing so, but the only person he ever showed this side to was Sarah.

“A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is fine.” You reason, hoping he’ll agree. It might’ve not been much, but at least it’s something, right?

“Okay sweetheart. Let me make that for you and I’ll be right back, alright?”

You nod and shift your body so he can maneuver himself from under you to go downstairs and fix you up the sandwich. You laid back on your bed, feeling slightly better. Joel really didn’t need to do all of this for you, yet here he was… taking care of you. The thought nearly made you cry again, but you swallowed the lump in your throat.

You fished your phone off of your nightstand to see three missed calls and five texts from your dad. You sighed and texted him back, letting him know that you were okay and everything was fine. Your dad knew about your battle with anxiety and depression and how it could be sometimes, so as any dad would, he worried.

You’d always reassure him everything was fine, but deep down he knew it wasn’t all fine. He knew there was stuff you didn’t want to talk about, and thankfully, he didn’t push.

Your phone shortly buzzing brought you from your thoughts, with a text from your dad that simply said ‘love you, kiddo’ with a red heart emoji. You hearted the message before locking your phone and setting it on your nightstand once again.

Joel came into your room seconds after with a paper plate that contained a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off and some pretzels on the side in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

He hands you the plate as you sit up, and you quietly thank him. You ate slowly, and Joel watched you. You look up at him as you take a bite from your sandwich, and he clears his throat.

“You know, darlin’,” Joel toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. “I may not know what you’re going through at the moment, but I can promise you I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me. Just say the word and I’m there.” Joel reassures, sitting on your bed once more.

“Thank you, Joel. I’m sorry you had to, uh, find me like this and… bathe me.” You look down at your plate, slowly swallowing the bite you were chewing.

“Don’t ever apologize, sweetheart. You needed to be taken care of. There’s nothing wrong with that. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with letting someone do so for you, okay?”

You find yourself leaning forward, touching your forehead with Joel’s. Your noses brush together for a second before he reaches up to cup your cheek and pull away from you. He’d love to kiss you, but he didn’t know if doing so in such a vulnerable time for you was really appropriate.

You felt his hesitancy, so you put your hand on the back of his neck to coax him closer to you, and your lips met his soft ones. It was a short and sweet kiss, something to say thank you a million times over. You weren’t very good with your words or sharing your emotions, so naturally, this was your way of doing so.

He smiled against your lips and kept you there for a second, just holding you and relishing in the sweet, loving, tender moment between you both.

And for that and the man that he is, you’ll be forever grateful for Joel.

tag list: @cool-iguana ily

#joel miller imagines #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #dbf!joel miller #joel miller age gap #joel miller story #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller blurb

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archivallyfound09 · 1 year ago

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The Vice Admiral's Niece

Summary: At a yearly Navy dinner, Vice Admiral Simpson decides to bring his niece to get her out of the house after a breakup. She isn't thrilled until a certain aviator catches her eye all night.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader (female, she/her pronouns, no y/n) Warnings: The usual. Everything is Mature, I'll mark explicit. Drinking, swearing, sexual innuendos. Mention of a breakup and of parent death-nothing graphic. ----------

"I don't know how you do these things," her voice was strained as she came down the tall flight of stairs. Her dress was a bit too tight for her comfort zone, the dark emerald satin starting to feel more like a noose wrapped effortlessly around her body. Her hair was done in a new way and a bobby pin was doing it's damnedest to continually poke into her brain.

"Honey, I don't have time for the whining, just get down here," Cyclone rolled his eyes as his recently shined black shoe tapped impatiently on the cream colored marble floor.

"Sorry, Uncle Beau- I mean, Command- I mean-" her stuttering was complimented by her stumbling down the stairs in the great hall. A sheepish grin took over her features as the Vice Admiral reached out to catch her after missing the final step.

"Listen, Billie," he sighed as she straightened her dress, her ears pricking a bit redder at the nickname ("Kill Bill" was a movie she had demanded to watch as a kid, not understanding the content of the movie and when her uncle finally let her watch it, she was haunted by nightmares for weeks. Unfortunately, the nickname was too cute not to stick).

"- I just need you to smile, enjoy the food, maybe dance, and then we'll get you out of here." He sighed as he saw her head drop again. He had agreed to take his niece to the annual Navy function after his wife had insisted upon it- the poor thing had just been dumped and, having lost both her parents previously, she had practically been living at her aunt and uncle's.

"Billie- look at me," her eyes slowly looked up at her uncle.

"I know I know, just don't trip," she took in a deep breath and forced a smile. She linked her arm through his and they walked into the grand ballroom, her heartbeat matching each click of her heels as they were announced in.

-------

Hangman almost spat out his drink when he saw the Vice Admiral walk into the room.

"Holy shit- look at the piece on Cyclone!"

The entire dagger team whipped their heads to look towards the ballroom's doors, trying to catch sight of what Hangman had seen. Fanboy thought it was a joke until he saw the woman with the placated smile bowing her head towards some of the other commanders nearby.

"Jesus! Who knew Cyclone had it in him? I can't-"

"She's not with him," Phoenix interrupted, "His wife's been on base recently," every male in the party looked at her befuddled, "You morons, we all saw her! He introduced her to Maverick before training like two weeks ago!"

Fanboy and Coyote looked at each other and shrugged, Bob pretended to agree and then shook his head, and Hangman downed the last of his drink. Phoenix was about to chastise the group again when she noticed that she had gotten no response or commentary from Rooster.

"Bradshaw," the sandy brown hair barely tilted towards her at the mention of his name, "for the love of god, do NOT try anything with the Vice Admiral's daughter." Rooster was still frozen, his eyes locked on the woman who had walked in. He couldn't help but memorize every detail of her: the way her dress flowed behind her with every step, the folds of the dress around her left hip, the way her hand kept perfectly still on the admiral's forearm.

"Yo, Rooster, friendly wager?" Hangman's voice cut through his thoughts, forcing him to, for the first time since she had entered, turn away. He shook his head and went to challenge his fellow pilot, but suddenly felt the hair stand on the back of his neck. He slowly turned around. half expecting the Vice Admiral himself to be breathing down on him.

As Bradley's eyes scanned the room (and while he ignored Hangman's taunts and preemptive bragging), his eyes finally locked on the culprit. It was her. Seated in the middle on a long banquet table, her soft eyes stared at him intently, as if she wanted him to know that he was the object of her attentions.

Almost as quickly as he caught and held her gaze, the Vice Admiral next to her tapped her wrist, forcing her to turn and shake hands with Warlock as he took his seat. It was after some short remarks that the dinner then began.

Bradley was quick to notice that the woman seated on the stage in the front was keenly observing him as he continued to mindlessly eat the food in front of him. He was grateful to have chosen a seat to the side of the round table so he could catch her eye every time she glanced at him. He loved watching the way she would pause with her fork pointed down and then fein interested in the conversation happening around us.

When the Vice Admiral took to the podium and started droning on and on about, well, honestly, Bradley had no idea about what. He just kept his gaze on the beauty at the table. She was no longer hiding that she was looking right at him and he was sure he was going to get caught, eat least by someone at his table.

He glanced around and realized no one was paying him any mind (well, except for Hangman who waggled an eyebrow at him as a taunt, focing Rooster to roll his eyes). With his conscious clear, he took in a shaky breath, caught her eye again and gave her his best "Rooster" grin. He could've sworn he saw her giggle and glance down quickly to grab her napkin to stop the laugh as Warlock looked over at her curiously.

A few moments later, Rooster was convinced he had crossed a line. His eyes continued to plead with her to look back up at him, even just one more time. He settled to studying the way that the dress draped around her shoulders and the delicate golden chain that lay right above her collarbones.

He had finally made his mind up- he needed to meet her. Cyclone be damned. His career be damned. His life be damned. He needed thirty seconds with this woman. To do what, he wasn't exactly sure.

It was at this moment that Rooster realized he had checked out a bit too long. Everyone else at the table was standing. Payback had kicked his chair leg hard, automatically causing Rooster to stand. He started catching the compliments from the Vice Admiral:

"...our Naval Aviation Warfighting Development Center has continued to not only grow the finest aviators in the Navy, but continues to utilize and deploy alumni of the Navy Fighter Weapons School to help complete missions that are, well, impossible, frankly."

She knew the joke was a cheap one, but, when you're Vice Admiral, you get a laugh out of every joke you give at the annual dinner. Her aunt had warned her of her uncles terrible sense of humor and inability to read any joy in the room. She giggled to herself.

She wasn't quite sure why, but her eyes kept wandering over to the pilot (she assumed) with the moustache and the brown hair (or was it sandy? the lighting was horrific in the ballroom). He had caught her eye as soon as she walked in, but in a way that every other eye who glanced at her had not.

His gaze was kind. Inquisitive, but kind. She had grown up around naval pilots most of her life after her dad and then her uncle's chose professions. She knew how most were, especially those of the Top Gun variety. When she saw him stand as a graduate, she felt her stomach drop- this guy was bad news.

And yet, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as he stumbled to stand and immediately looked to lock eyes with her.

Bradley continued to hold her gaze and gave her a crooked smile as his fingers mindlessly played with the hem of his dress blues. He had forgotten that he was in this ridiculous penguin suit. Thank god, he thought, as Warlock motioned for the task force at his table to sit down. He caught Maverick's eye as he sat and shrugged, but Pete Mitchell knew better: he had seen that look in a Bradshaw's eye before. It was the night that Goose had met Carole.

"And, before this party really gets going," Cyclone gave a hollow laugh which was reciprocated just as lifelessly, "I do want to thank all the support systems that are behind each and every one of you. Your families, your parents, your siblings, your children. I'm honored today to have my niece with me this evening." He paused and some tittering comments were whispered at tables.

"My wife Kelly said that I should clear up any confusion about my date tonight, lest any of you think this is my style."

The sternness of his comment mixed with the ridiculous clarification actually caused uproarious laughter that was quickly snatched up by the DJ as the music started. Cyclone sat down and gave a small smile to his niece, patting her arm.

"Aunt Kelly wrote that for you, yeah?"

He took a swig of his whiskey, "Damn right she did. Everyone in this room thought I was a dirty old man til I said something."

She laughed and hugged her uncle, thrilled that he was finally starting to lighten up a bit.

"C'mere Billie, let me introduce you to some members of Bate's team. He's got some characters you might remember...."

She stood gingerly and took her uncle's arm, smiling at Rear Admiral Bates as he started to walk her towards the table she had been staring at all night.

"Knew someone?" Her brain was in overdrive- who had she met before that her Uncle knew that would be at Top Gun who-

"Billie. My God! the last time I saw you-"

Cyclone cut him off "The last time you saw her she was 10 and I threw you out of my office."

Maverick wasn't capable of having a sheepish look to his face, but he tried his hardest. Billie smiled at the pilot and hugged him, though she wasn't entirely sure that it had been her in her uncle's office when the altercation has occurred. But, she wasn't one to make things awkward.

"So nice to see you again," she gave him a short bow and desperately tried to see through Bates as he was standing directly in front of the chair that had kept her interest.

"Maverick is working on a new team as a strike force. His group of graduates is right here," Bates stepped out of the way and she stared at the table. Well, she stared directly at one member of the table. She forced her eyes to leave as the names and callsigns were relayed to her, but there was only one she cared about.

"uhm, I'm Br-Bradley Bradshaw. I go by R-Rooster." His voice was more than she could've imagined. It was sweet and gruff and had a rasp to it that made the sweat prick on her skin. It was then that she realized that they were waiting on an introduction. Her uncle had already started for her.

"-but we usually refer to her as Billie or Ms. Simpson," the emphasis was put on the second of the two names and everyone caught the implication. She felt her cheeks go hot but she took a deep breath and forced herself to tear her eyes away from Bradley Rooster Bradshaw long enough to say hello.

"What you all do is incredible. Thank you for your service and your sacrifice." The table nodded in appreciation and then quickly scampered away once the Rear Admiral dismissed them.

"Alright kiddo, time for me to go and smoke a cigar outside while you enjoy yourself in here. And remember, anything that happens tonight..."

"...We don't tell Aunt Kelly, I remember." She smiled as her uncle headed towards the doors with some admiral whom she could never remember his name. She quickly walked to the bar and ordered her usual: gin and tonic. After a large gulp, she felt her nerves start to settle. What she hadn't noticed was the figure standing next to her looking at her expectantly.

"Hey there, sweetheart, I've never seen a Vice Admiral's niece before...." The Texan drawl was painfully thick and Billie turned quickly to see her culprit. The blond who had also been staring at her during their introductions tipped his fake cowboy hat and sidled up closer to her.

"What you mean," she retorted, "is you've never slept with a Vice Admiral's niece."

The man stepped back, a hand over his heart. "You wound me, m'lady. I made no such suggestion," he took two steps closer, she could feel his breath hot on her neck and ear as he brushed back part of her hair, "I've been with a few Vice Admiral's daughters, but I want to see where a niece stands in that lineup."

As he (Hangman? something dumb, she thought) continued to try and defend himself, she caught him from across the room. Bradley had locked onto her like a missle and he was pissed. She raised an eyebrow at him and then, while keeping eye contact, patted Hangman's arm and then his cheek in the most chastising way she could manage before she stepped away, heading to a nearby balcony, leaving two men stunned in her wake.

It didn't take long for Bradley to find the woman he had been hunting for. Honestly, he would've run after her after Hangman had pulled his stunt, but he wanted to here the dejected pilot's recounting of the story. Hangman downplayed it, but it was clear he was not used to being turned down by any one, especially one that came with such a high rank in the family.

"It's for the best, Bagman," Phoenix teased and reasoned, "You mess with her, the VA is gonna be up your ass and in all your business. There is no way this works out well, right, Fanboy?"

"Why'd you pick on me?! I didn't do anything and I had no idea that her brother was a Green Beret!" The group broke into peals of laughter as they headed for the bar. It was only Bob who noticed that one member of their party had quickly slipped away and was heading in the direction of a certain off-limits Vice Admiral's niece.

--------

Bradley stood in front of her completely frozen. She was facing out towards the balcony and had surely heard him come out, but he couldn't seem to find any words to explain what had happened that evening. Bradley realized he had no idea what love at first sight was or, honestly, what finding love meant, but he knew when he looked at her, his world stopped.

"I don't bite, Bradshaw," her voice was lilting and startled the pilot. "I'm glad you found me out here," she paused and Bradley thought he would fall over as he waited on her every last word, "though honestly, I'm not really sure what happened in there." He was grateful for her honesty and was relieved that she was just as confused as he was. Before he realized it he had stepped next to her at the balcony, completely oblivious to the view. She smiled at him and then dropped her eyes to his uniform.

"These things must be awful to dry clean," he hedged, eyes looked back up at him through her lashes. Bradley let out a honest-to-god laugh and she couldn't help the bubbling feeling she felt in her chest or the blush that tinged her cheeks. She noted every freckle, every scar, every wrinkle on his face. The way his lips were just the slightest bit crooked and the way his eyes glistened when he laughed.

"They are the absolute worst, but I can't imagine that emerald silk is much easier," he gestured to her gown and she felt the blush grow.

"I'll let you in on a secret- I stole this from my aunt, so I have no idea on the care and washing instructions."

Bradley chuckled and stepped infinitesimally closer to her, his calloused hands barely touching the fabric ruched ust below her hip. "I can't see Mrs. Vice Admiral wearing this, so thank god for you." He smiled at her and it was difficult to decipher between the dig at her aunt and the charmingness he was oozing. She decided it was clearly nerves and laughed with him.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you, Rooster, was it?"

"Ma'am, you may call me whatever you'd like, I'll always respond." The earnestness of his response caught her off guard, but made her melt just a bit more. She nodded curtly, dropping her gaze to her shoes, trying to hide the giggle and blush combination that was happening. Bradley smiled, meaning every word and pleased with the effect that it had on the woman in front of him. He took in as deep of a breath as his blues allowed him and held out his hand.

"While you think of a new nickname for me, may I have this dance, ma'am?" Before she realized it, her eyes shot up and looked at him concerned. If her uncle saw her dancing with someone, especially with someone who was in the Top Gun program and had been working with Maverick- she liked Bradley too much to let her uncle eat him alive.

Bradley was quick to note her hesitation, "Out here, I mean. The music is loud enough, we don't need to let you back into that room to wander into the immoral clutches of some godawful Navy pilot, right?" She smiled in relief and nodded, quickly taking Bradley's hand and swaying immediately to the music. His hand was placed on her lower back and she sighed, taking in the smell of him.

Bradley wanted to jump out of his skin. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened but he was damn glad that Payback and Harvard had dragged him to the dinner tonight. He made a mental note to gift them some nice whisky the next time he was out.

With every step, he took in another one of her features. Her smooth skin, her hair and they way it fluttered in the light breeze, her smell, the way her hand fit in his- he was completely enraptured.

"Bradley?" He let out a small 'mhmm?' his eyes still closed as he swayed with her. "I have to get back. I know my uncle is going to be looking for me and-"

"and you don't want a sacrificial death on your hands. I completely understand." Bradley looked down at her and pressed a hesitant kiss to her forehead. She blushed, but reached her arms around his neck pulling her lips flush against his. He was shocked but immediately melded into her, the touch electric to both parties.

The kiss was over as soon as it had started and she started to pull away, the slightest flush to her cheeks when Bradley grabbed her arm. "Your number. I have to see you again," she smiled and spotted a pen and paper on a nearby tray with a waiters book just inside the doorway of the balcony. She stepped out quickly and ripped out one of the pages and quickly scribbled down her name and number. He kissed the paper as she handed it to him and then leaned in again, kissing her quickly as the two exited the small balcony.

"There you are!" Her uncle's booming voice was off to her right as she waltzed back into the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Rear Admiral Cain, he's one that worked with your dad way back." She smiled politely and all but jogged to be over by her uncle. It was almost imperceptible, but just the tiniest bit of her lipstick was smudged. Maverick happened to be in the next conversation over and looked at the Admiral's niece and then towards Rooster, all but laughing out loud when he noticed the smear of lipstick on his adopted nephews lips.

As the Vice Admiral started to make his exit, niece in tow, he turned to her.

"Thank you for coming tonight. I think your Aunt Kelly had a bit of a plan for both of us here," he smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. She laughed and nodded- she was there to relax her Uncle a bit and he was there to get her out amongst people again. As she opened her mouth to agree, it shut quickly-there was suddenly some commotion as they reached the doors.

"What the hell are they doing?" Her uncle groaned and then she saw it- the team she had met earlier (save for a sourpussed Texan) was cheering and a few had even lifted Rooster up on their shoulders as the pilot waved a piece of paper around. She turned bright red as Bradley caught her eye and waved the paper around. "Idiot must have gotten lucky on a bet..." she giggled and nodded with her uncle's assessment of the situation. She sent one last glance over her shoulder and it caused even more whooping and hollering from the group. Though he pretended not to notice it, Vice Admiral Beau Simpson could not have been more pleased.

"C'mon Billie, let's get you back home, it's movie night. Maybe some Kill Bill?"

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

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster x you #tgm

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angstywaifu · 10 months ago

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Reunited

Little bit of a short one today. But this one came from a prompt for Garrick with a Gryphon Rider. But I feel like despite how short it is, its still quite cute. Enjoy!

Garrick Tavis x Gryphon Rider Reader

The trek to Aretia was tough. My gryphon was not made for the higher altitudes. And I was one of the lucky ones who had one who had a higher tolerance to the higher altitude. I’d hate to think how those further behind are doing.

I tried to keep my mind focused on the journey still ahead of us but I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to Garrick. Would he be there? Was he alive? Xaden would have said something if he wasn’t alive. It had been so long since I had seen him at one of the supply drop offs. Since he had been sent to Samara, it was harder for him to get away as often as Xaden. Every time Xaden came though he gave me a letter from Garrick, and I would give him one to take back in return. We had started after Garrick couldn’t make multiple trips in a row. And sadly the tradition hadn’t ended since it started. It had been months since I had seen him. I hadn’t seen since him Athebyne.

Would he be waiting for me? Had Xaden told him about the deal that was made? Part of me hoped he would be waiting for me as I arrived. As we break through the clearing, Xaden and a few other riders are waiting for us. My heart sinks as I don’t see Garrick amongst them. I busy myself with getting my pack of my Gryphon and go to follow after the other riders. I had procrastinated enough that I was one of the last ones. As I walk past Syrena and the riders Xaden looks up and catches my eye. He smiles and motions with his head to get going. Almost in a way that tells me I should hurry. He must be here.

I step within the walls of Aretia. I had never been here, with how much I had heard from Garrick, I felt as if I had been. I felt as if I could walk these halls and know where everything was. Knowing my luck I would get lost though. There was probably so much Garrick hadn’t been able to tell me. I dump my pack in my room and decide to go explore. Maybe, just maybe I would see him wandering the halls. Or maybe I was unlucky again and he wasn’t here. Out on a patrol or something. But the urgency in Xaden’s nod had suggested other wise. Garrick was here.

As I walk the halls I am met with mixed looks from the riders. Confusion on how the hell I know where to go, and also hate and distain. You couldn’t get ride of generations worth of hate. We’d all be taught to hate each other our entire lives. Only those involved on the supply runs would be accepting of us Gryphon riders to start with.

I around to see I’ve come to an intersection in a hall way. With a painting Garrick had described to me perfectly in one of his letters, to the point I had felt like I had seen it before. As if I’m being pulled by force I follow the hallway down to the right, towards a flight of stairs. Stairs that would lead up to a tower Garrick would frequent when he wanted time to himself. Another bit of information he had told me in his letters. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew he would be there. I sprint up the stairs as fast as I can, so fast its a miracle I don’t trip over my own feet on the way up. Each step brings me closer to Garrick. I get to the top and walk through the arch way, but no one is here. My shoulders slump in defeat. I had been so sure he would be here. But then a familiar smell washes over me, and a familiar pair of strong arms spin me around into a bone crushing hug. I don’t even have to look up to see it’s him as I wrap my arms around his torso. Neither of us dares to brake away from the embrace. Just taking comfort in the fact both of us were here and finally together. And after months apart, this is all we needed.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine #the fourth wing

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totothewolff · 7 months ago

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Season of Love (7/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

The Color of Truth is Blue Arc Chapter 7: Red flagsss

Italy

You stay off-the-grid that entire weekend to everyone's concerns.

Your phone remains turned off and forgotten on the sofa at Seb's place, kilometers away from you now, as he takes you on a sudden road trip through the Italian Riviera in his 1995 classic blue Citroën DS19.

Knowing the beautiful scenery and brief stops at the Mediterranean towns' gorgeous tourist sites would keep your mind from hurtful thoughts.

And, boy, he was right.

Your mood gets less somber as you two enjoy your gelatos while peacefully walking the Giardini Botanici Hanbury, feeling the fresh breeze from the trees on your skin and hearing the birds chirping around you.

It turns out Seb is full of great love and life advice. He sounds so mature and open about it that it seems new and shocking to you.

How can someone love so freely and so fearlessly?

Seb watches you sigh as you finish packing the clothes you bought and wore during the weekend in your also new suitcase since touring Italy in his clothes seemed like something other than a fit for your aesthetics and ego.

Still, you chose to wear his vintage Monty Python t-shirt with mom jeans for the flight back, as you loved the graphic, its colors, and the fact that it fits you a bit oversized and comfy. It made you feel safe.

—Everything will be fine —he expresses.

—I know —you look at Seb and give him a shy smile, only if he knew.

—Ready, then? —he holds open the door for you.

—More than ever —you answer, and you are.

Hungary

Much to your poor nerves, the Hungary Grand Prix week is finally here.

And you need to meet Pascal on the outskirts of town so he can deliver you the device.

That nervous sensation in your stomach grows as the chauffeur/gunman drives you closer to the meeting point, which is inside the third floor of a decadent and abandoned old building from the socialist era.

It's been more than a decade since last you saw him in person, as he was getting violently pinned down to the floor and dragged away by a SWAT team as you screamed.

His piercing blue eyes and his handsome face were covered in blood coming from a deep wound over his eyebrow from the contact of a fist punch as he whispered a soft and reassuring "I will be fine; you will be fine."

That memory was forever tattooed in your brain, sometimes making you wake up with a cold sweat at night.

As you finish climbing the narrow swirl stairs that once may have been stunning, you open the enormous, washed-down, and scratched-wood double doors. They creak so loud, making the place echo, as the tall, muscular figure of a man looking out of an open, broken window turns your way, following the sound.

Your heart skips at the sight of him; you guess those feelings never truly disappeared.

He watches you approach him with the same expression as your heels clack loudly on the dirty, now opaque, tiled floor.

You rush your pace in the last couple of remaining steps. Reaching closer to Pascal's figure, a smile forms on his lips, expecting you to throw yourself into his arms.

But as you are millimeters away from his body, you slap him so hard, making his head turn. His lip bleeds a little bit from the contact before sinking into his neck as he pulls you in a really tight hug above the ground; your hand caresses his hair and cheek as you lay your foreheads in one another.

—It's great to see you, kid. We don't have much time —Pascal tells you as he places you back to the ground and points to the ankle monitor on his calf with a blinking light. —Inside this is the tracker; follow the protocol precisely as we practiced it, and everything will be alright. You are so brave —he hands you a green Hermes bag. —Go.

You want to talk to him more, say more, and let him know all that happened in your life after him and thanks to him, but he rushes you to leave, not wanting to expose you more than necessary, and for you to return to safety.

You slide your hand down his arm and squeeze his hand as you walk away, letting it go only when he gets out of your reach.

The weather at the track gets damn awful, umbrellas everywhere, grey skies, and all lights on, even if it's really early.

The free practice is a complete mess, thanks to the various puddles and Logan's car pinballing around.

Sam looks extremely uneasy that day under the stern scrutiny from Toto.

—Stop it. You are making me uneasy, too. What's with you? —he asks as Sam nervously moves around.

—Nothing, I don't want Lewis to crash or George to get hurt. That thing with Logan was awful —she lies quickly, as paramedics had to help him out of the car while many "ouchs" from the crowd were exchanged as he wasn't walking alright.

Toto looks at her with a deadly "Please, I'm not stupid" look.

But he lets it go before he overhears; Niki asks her directly as she reaches him. —Have you heard from her?

Sam knows exactly to whom (you) he is referring. —No.

And that's what makes her more nervous than anything. "Please, be ready," she thinks.

Toto raises an eyebrow at the interaction. Is something going on?!

You decide to show up until qualy.

You walk around the paddock and pitline as if following a path, but this is only noticeable if someone is paying you lots of attention, which Charles is.

He catches your step in the middle, distracting you; you cut him as he opens his mouth to say something.

—Not now, later —you look so authoritarian he doesn't protest. —I need to focus. Do you get it? —now you mutter to him, low.

He nods. —Take care, please —is all he says, and he walks away. He is not able to talk to you about what happened at the Gala and about all Seb told him; he only told him the bits Seb knew weren't to be kept.

Toto is there, too, observing your every move. The more he looks and follows you, the weirder it gets.

Judging by the expression you and Charles shared, how nerve-wracking Sam is acting, and how quiet Niki is, there is no way something isn't happening.

Could it be the aftermath of what happened at the Gala? To which he is the one to blame for.

Toto waits for the perfect moment to confront Sam. After the practice ends and everyone moves to the hospitality and headquarters, he notices the blond walking down the corridor of his office in the direction of Niki's. He quickly gets on his feet and follows her around. Sam notices and rushes her pace.

Out of nowhere, he pushes Sam softly against the wall to make her stop. —What's going on? Don't dare to lie to me —he looks dead concerned about it, borderline paranoid.

��It's not my place to tell you —she sadly replies and pushes him away too, roughly, knowing the last time she said those words, she ended up hurting a friend. —Don't push it! It won't work! My lips are sealed —she warns him as she fixes her shirt and returns to work.

—I know I fucked it up —Toto lets out, looking at Samanta's back as she faces the door down the hall as he leans one of his hands on the wall.

Fuck, he sounds so sad, almost wounded. Sam closes her eyes, feeling awful, before taking a step and walking away in total silence.

It's the eve of the Hungarian Grand Prix, and the paddock is abuzz with excitement and anticipation.

It's regular business with teams preparing their cars and mechanics working tirelessly to ensure every engine is revving if it wasn't for the extreme security present this time.

There are not-so-discreet gunmen in different places, catching the attention of some guests and team members.

Fans gather at the circuit, voices rising in cheers. The energy is palpable as everyone eagerly awaits the engines' roar and the tires' screech on the track.

This time, The Hungarian Grand Prix is more than just a race; today, it welcomes a peculiar, to say the least, special guest to participate in the opening ceremony: one political candidate, desperate to be in the spotlight and under the cameras, seizing the opportunity with the upcoming election just weeks from today.

It has been almost a year since your intelligence team confirmed to you that the juicy donations from Hungarian and Serbian accounts addressed to the FIA/F1 were the single most crucial lead to the man you have been hunting for years and years: Jószef Lenkov.

Lenkov had planned to tour the paddock on foot before arriving at the pit lane to participate in the committee during the country's anthem ceremony.

It's your only opportunity in decades to approach him, and you can't miss it. Your entire team and life depend on it; it's personal.

You feel sick to your stomach as you watch Lenkov and his entire entourage arrive. After all these years, he is there, in person, just meters away from you, as in one of your nightmares; there he is, the reason behind all the suffering in your life and the ones you love.

Even if you now have a different name and aspect and are being protected and monitored, a lingering fear is still deep in you.

You were just a child the last time you saw him.

God, how much you despise that man, how much you want to succeed in bringing him down, how much you want him gone for good.

You start casually walking closer and around them, near the distance but not enough to be noticed by all those guards protecting him.

You follow the path that you rehearsed thousands of times.

Everything goes according to plan until you make it to the pitlane on the final and most crucial move.

In a matter of seconds, your vision gets all blurry.

Your ear makes an awful whistling sound, and you feel stabs of pure pain on your right forearm, the one you just got up by instinct to protect you from smashing directly into the glass, which shatters enough to hurt you as you get pushed to the side against the glass barrier where Rolex had an interactive advertising booth for those with a VIP access.

Everyone near you watches the scene in genuine shock as one of the brutal security assholes of Lenkov forces you away from him.

As you approach the older man from behind, you are able to place your hands on his shoulder and just above his jacket pocket inside that entourage of suited security men as he waves the crowds of militants in the stands supporting him.

Lewis watches, shocked at how little you react to such a violent punch. There is almost no expression in response from you, no wincing, which raises all his alarms.

Samanta tries her best to look as surprised as the rest, and thank God Toto next to her is fuming with rage that doesn't pay her any attention.

Since yesterday, he has been suspicious that something is going on and has followed her closely the entire day, too, so she has remained as far from you as possible.

A lot happens around you as you recover; Lenkov doesn't even bother to turn around or give his attention to the commotion as he gets rushed away from the scene by his team of gorillas guarding him.

Your blood starts spilling everywhere on the pitlane concrete floor; it seems and feels like a deep cut on the forearm.

FIA security holds the violent bodyguard and escorts him out, and aid comes your way.

You compose yourself reasonably quickly.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice your entire team of mechanics and drivers moving towards the guy with killer instincts since everything is happening barely a meter away from your garage entry.

—Anyone who dares to move an inch gets out of this team —you warn them in such a dangerous, deep voice. Something no one has witnessed you do before.

Millie looks at you as you have transformed into someone else, like something buried inside you has come out.

No one dares to move.

You rush to grab one of the mechanics' jackets and tighten it around your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Paramedics arrive as fast as possible and start working on your nasty wound.

Once inside the ambulance, you instruct them to take you straight to your hotel room against their will; you let them know it's an order, not an option.

You catch a glimpse of Pascal among the crowds near the pit stop. Now, he knows you have accomplished the job because of the smile you give him through the open door of the ambulance, like a lioness before eating her sleep prey.

After getting some provisional stitches and a fresh bandage, you arrive at the Corinthia Hotel.

The white gauze gets redder with every step you take. Still, you hide it well behind the space thermal blanket the paramedics give you, walking as fast as possible, trying to avoid grabbing the attention of the guests in the hotel on your way to your destination.

Drops of blood are on your expensive pink glaze tweed Valentino dress.

You knock on the room you got instructed to, using the signal number of knocks your team told you to.

You quickly enter the large double room once they open the door for you. The curtains are closed, and the lights are on. A team of six guys on computers with tons of cables and some devices wrapped in foil, along with a couple of gunned men, greet you.

An exceedingly handsome, fit man in an expensive Armani power suit sits on the couch, legs crossed, with a drink in his hand.

He turns to talk to you. —We got signal! Now we can trace him —he informs you; he notices you are hurt and instantly gets concerned, and his fierce eyes softened.

Everyone claps as you collapse next to him on the couch. He grabs your once again bloody hand and comes close to kneel in front of you, sharing an intimate moment as tears run down your cheeks, not knowing if it was the emotion of the moment or the pain provoking them.

—You succeeded! I'm so proud of you —Matt rubs a finger on your bruised knuckles and softly kisses them —The tracker you placed on Lenkov will lead us to his current quarters. I will take it from here.

You nod, exhausted.

—You are done more than enough; now I have to play my part —he informs you.

—What?! —you let out as your heart skips.

—If I don't cause a scene, it will raise questions.

—Wait, Matt, it's unnecessary! I don't think they notice; the FIA aren't exceptionally bright...

—You just got slaughtered in our team garage, and you think it is not necessary? —he looks at you with an exasperated face.

—You don't need to show up! I can handle this! I don't require you to intervene! —you enter complete panic mode; you need more time and want more time.

—What you need is a surgeon; that cut seems deep, but they will take you to the hospital now. I will meet you there after visiting the pitlane —Matt ends the conversation right there, his beautiful clear blue eyes looking authoritarian at you.

—Matthew, no, wait! —you know it is impossible to make that man change his mind; once he makes a decision, it gets done. You all live in a world that is his. You know how erratic, spoiled, and unreliable he is.

There it is, the control freak from which you ran away.

Your limbs get cold as you have this conversation, and moving causes you so much pain now, so you let your case rest, knowing there's nothing else you can do.

More tears run down your face, but not caused by the wound; it is your heart bleeding.

Samanta watches Matthew walk past the Mercedes garage's front like she is seeing a walking ghost.

He looks gorgeous, with perfect hair, on-point clothes, and swaggy steps, but this time, he has a lethal gaze.

He tilts his head and looks straight at her for a second. Sensing her eyes on him, Matt subtely smirks at Sam and keeps going.

Sam stays still, watching, knowing everything is about to change.

—All good? —Lewis asks her, concerned, witnessing the interaction.

—Yes, I'm just shocked and worried about what happened! I hope she's doing okay!

—We all do —Niki joins the conversation, looking somber, hands in his pockets. Then, he softly whispers to Sam. —I hope she succeeded.

—Me too —Sam answers, knowing that he knows.

Toto is quiet and reflective in his chair, far from them. Sam does everything possible not to cross his sight and avoids him the rest of the night.

He has many questions and needs your answers.

If you ever want to talk to him ever.

He prays God you do.

That you still want him.

Matthew arrives at the gruesome scene with a group of lawyers, who carry cameras and tablets and start taking pictures and collecting testimonials.

Of course, it is all pretend; your team is about to control the narrative of the events: "It was a non-related security brokerage" is about to fill social media, bots, press, and TV.

The FIA is about to be blamed for having weak security protocols for its people.

Matt is not pleased to see your blood spread all over the pitstop's concrete floors. He feels murderous inside, and he looks like it.

He notices many curious eyes set on him, but he is used to it; a man with his appearance always draws attention anyway.

Schumi walks to him. —Hi, Mr. De Vos. Is Y/N okay, boss?!

—I just got informed she is at the hospital right now getting surgery. I will be by her side soon. I needed to see it first with my own eyes. I can't believe this! —fuck he sounds pissed looking at the "crime scene."

The next day, the stewards were going nuts trying to manage the entire situation, and the busy FIA scheduled a meeting to discuss the violent events with all the astonished team principals.

To reassure them that they were handling the situation and that there was no need for anyone not to feel safe, and to say: "It won't happen again, we swear."

—I didn't know Ken existed in real life! —Otmar jokes under his breath with Mattia and Fred as they all watch Matthew having a call on the other side of the clear glass panel walls outside the meeting room.

All TPs are gathered in a vacant and enormous room, along with some team owners, waiting for Massi to arrive and discuss the gruesome circumstances of the night before.

Matthew enters the room, grabbing everyone's attention and provoking a "Who is this guy?" face on the men inside.

His blonde lawyer waits for him outside just by the door; they both look busy.

That blonde guy looks familiar to Toto. Oh, yeah! It's Sam's brother.

Matthew joins the circle of chairs. —Couldn't they get cheaper ones? —he jokes as the thing squeaks with his weight. He is very muscular but lean, like a model.

Everyone laughs, agreeing.

—We look like we are about to take fucking therapy —Gunther colorfully adds.

Horner chuckles at his comment.

—My name is Zack, and I'm addicted to speed —he teases.

—Hi, Zack! —three of them answer in unison.

—I'm Christian. I'm addicted to winning —Horner jokes, too.

—Mr. Lauda —Matthew greets him, standing to receive a hug from the older man as he joins the group.

—Oh, so handsome as ever! —Niki comments on Matt's good looks and pats his face. Matt doesn't seem bothered by it; he has quite an authoritarian presence and a stern face that could spam from the sweetest thing to a serial killer within seconds, but he smiles at Niki.

—How is she? —Niki asks, concerned for your well-being.

—She went through reconstructive surgery, which took five hours. The glass cut tendons and nerves, so she needs to take therapy to get her movement back. She can't feel pressure or heat on her fingers and has minimal movement on her entire arm.

—Yeah, all sense gets gone for a good couple of weeks —Niki states. He knows the procedures well; he went through some after his crash. —I'm calling her to advise her on how to deal with it; it gets frustrating.

—That would be fantastic. Y/N will very much appreciate your supporting words; she is still shaken by all that has happened.

—And what happened exactly? —Mattia inserts himself in their conversation. Matthew turns to him with a cold expression, a mixture of "you aren't part of this conversation" and "I don't have anything to explain to you."

—According to the FIA, it was just a simple "accident," but my team differs —Matthew answers him with sarcasm and deadpan.

Toto already dislikes Matt. He acts arrogant and entitled. Niki sits beside him, and Massi rushes in, followed by a group of stewards and his assistants.

—Apologies, it's been crazy! Oh! Mr. De Vos, thank you for joining us!

"Mr. De Vos?!" Toto's expression changes from annoyed to surprised as he stares for the first time straight at him, to which Matthew holds his look.

Matt instantly switches personalities as Massi addresses him. His pose goes from relaxed on his chair to dangerous, with one leg resting on his knee. His eyes look harsh, like a wolf about to bite the lamb's neck.

—This can't happen again —he says in the most authoritarian voice, with no greeting. Massi's eyes widen. —This wasn't an accident; it was incompetence from your security, your organization, and yours —Matthew destroys him.

He knows playing with your food is not polite, but he isn't the most successful man in his type of business by being kind or soft. —Bring your PR team. I need to have a word with them —Matt continues.

Massi looks at him, alarmed, but nods, agreeing.

—Now —Matt slowly and softly finishes saying.

Massi nods again and quickly goes out of the room.

—Can we hire you? —Stroll asks Matt in awe.

—You don't have that kind of money —he jokes back.

"Yes, he is insufferable," Toto thinks.

After an extensive meeting, Matthew gives the FIA two months to develop a new and better security protocol, or they will sue.

After receiving many concerned texts and "I hope you get better soon" mentions, you finally replied in the group chat: "I now have a bionic forearm, but it doesn't shoot lasers. Bummer!"

"I have something in my body that shoots too, but neither is my arm nor are lasers," Lando jokes.

Everyone laughs.

During the break that the Mercedes team takes to lunch, Sam visits you at the hospital, and she takes you tons of gifts. She is the only one who is allowed to visit you or knows your location.

Among the gifts is a letter from Toto that you don't dare to open.

After returning from the hospital, Sam joins the girl squad for a much-needed chat.

—He looks fake! It's like the Greeks marbled him —Millie says, checking out Matthew while he talks with a man obstructed by a poster with Sam, Angela, and Brigita beside her.

—He is so handsome! That's some cute, firm bubble booty —Angela lusts for him.

—And you haven't seen him without a shirt; he has abs for days —Sam informs them.

—One can only imagine —Brigita whispers.

Matthew is chatting with Alexi, Sam's brother, behind the sign, obstructing Millie's view until he moves.

As soon as she notices Alexi, she hugs and greets him. —Uncle! —she lets out, throwing herself into his arms, excited as they embrace each other.

Sam joins them against her will. —How lovely! A family reunion, yikes! —she says sarcastically, pretending to hate the thing.

They all candidly talk till Niki and Toto reach them.

—You don't remember Matthew?! Really? Are you sure?! —Alexi looks incredulous at Millie as he asks her.

She denies fiercely with her head.

—But he has been invited to many family gatherings!

—Nope! —Millie then gestures at Matt's body with her hand. —If I had seen this, I would remember it, believe me! —then she turns to him, a bit red on the cheeks. —With all due respect —she adds, and Matthew shrugs, amused.

—Don't boost his ego, please. It's already enormous —Sam rolls her eyes at them.

—No worries! —Alexi addresses his niece. —He is so used to this; a girl once fainted before him. No joking; it happened during our college years. You were so popular with the girls —then turns to face Matthew. —Y/N was the most envied girl on campus —Alexi finishes saying and then looks at the two men now joining them.

—You must be Sam's brother —Toto extends a hand to him, to Niki's right.

—Yes, I am! I have heard so much of you —he says as they shake hands. Alexi looks very friendly and chatty, utterly different from Sam and Matt. It could be more like Millie's genes; maybe it's that part of his family.

—I hope nice things! —Toto jokes.

—Apparently, this gremlin is fond of you —he smirks at a now embarrassed Sam at the revelation.

Alexi is Matthew's lawyer. They have been friends since childhood, since the womb as their families have been close for centuries. Yes, centuries, big old-timey money with insulting fortunes, the kind of money that would make someone sick.

They both studied law at Cambridge at the same time.

Alexi then quickly adds. —You haven't been introduced to each other, right? Matthew, this is Toto Wol..

—I know —Matt cuts him. —We just saw each other at the meeting.

None of them moves an inch to greet the other. An awkward tension is palpable.

—Oh, well, then. Anyway, this "knows it all" is Matthew De Vos, owner of the Williams team and Y/N's husband.

"Y/N'S HUSBAND! WHAT THE FUUUU-!" Toto struggles to play it cool.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter > - A new arc is here with lots to unpack and reveal! Finally, we are getting to more know about her! I hope you liked this chapter, but prepare for what comes next! Read you soon <3

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