hauerhoetime

[hauerhoetime]

Game of Thrones

A DECENT PRICE: Bronn x fem!reader

Summary: She's the one talking to Bronn about going to Dorne instead of Jaime...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warning: swearing, mentioned killing

•••

She hated Lollys Stokeworth, yet she couldn't say why.

She was the same naive girl as every other she'd met, but she still hated her with great passion. She hated how close she was to Bronn and how shy she became when she noticed Jaime. She hated how cute her laugh was and she most definitely hated that Bronn called her every sweet nickname he could come up with.

But still, that wasn't the time she started to hate her. That was the first time they've met face to face, sure, but she disliked her long before that. She despised her the moment Bronn explained that Cersei had promised him Lollys' hand in marriage if he won't fight for Tyrion's innocence.

And that hurt. It hurt more than she wanted to admit it. Even if she let Tyrion go with Jaime's help, life back in the Red Keep wasn't the same. She couldn't do what she used to do, she didn't have Tyrion or Bronn for company anymore - she was so damn lonely.

Her sister took everyone from her; both her favourite sibling and her favourite sellsword, and she was sure she'd never be able to forgive her for that.

But she was there, back in Bronn's company, knowing he's pretty much the only one left who doesn't hate her brother for no reason at all. Only if Lollys would just go so they could talk...

She wondered if Bronn wanted the same. She wondered if he'd like the thing she wanted to offer him, she wondered if he'd accept it. And deep down, even if she brushed it aside, she wondered if he missed her like she missed him.

"Lollys, darlin' why don't you go and show Ser Jaime the castle. I'm sure he'd like it."

Maybe he missed her too.

Jaime looked at her, his eyes questioning what he should do, if he should stay instead. She nodded and her brother gave Lollys his healthy arm to hold onto.

After a while they were out of sight.

She looked at Bronn and he looked back at her, then he smirked like he always did.

"I see that the trousers are back."

She smiled.

"Father's gone, my sister's too busy being a cunt to scold me, so yes. The trousers are back."

"I'm sorry 'bout your father." he said as he turned around and then they started to walk along the coast. He didn't offer her his arm to hold onto and she was glad that despite being a knight and having new clothes, Bronn stayed the same.

"No, you're not." she said as she avoided his eyes. "Even I can't feel sorry for his death and I'm his daughter. I'm sure you didn't like him at all."

"I tolerated him. He was still an ass to you though."

"Tolerated..." she chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I tolerated him too. When he wasn't fucking us over. Me and Tyrion."

Bronn stopped and so did she. They were further away from the castle, she couldn't see Jaime or Lollys anywhere. They were alone. Completely alone, like back in the not-so-bad days.

"You let him go, didn't you? Tyrion." he looked at her like he always did when Tyrion let him accompany her wherever she went - he looked at her with confidence and curiousity, like he's sure what she'll say yet he still cares how she'll say it.

She nodded.

"Well, I'm happy he's not rotting in that cell anymore. Give him my regards when you see him."

"I'll give him our regards when I find him."

"You don't know where he is?"

"No. I have no idea. But I think it's better that way - for now. If I knew I'd be happy and Cersei would know I know where he is. I don't want her to find him. Hell, I don't want Jaime to find him." she confessed with a sad smile. "Gods, I always tell you fucking everything."

"It's part of my charm." Bronn teased and she chuckled. "So the Golden Boy didn't take it well? Tywin's death?"

"No. Not at all. He said he'd cut Tyrion in two if he found him - that's why I won't let that happen. Not him, not Cersei, not even the fucking Gods will find him." she took a deep breath as she did her best to calm down. "But that's not why we're here."

"Here we go, and here I thought you missed me."

She raised her eyebrow in disbelief.

"Of course I miss you! The Red Keep is boring without you around. Besides, now I have no one to drink with."

"I'm sure I could visit you from time to time."

Bronn smirked and so did she. They'd meet again, no matter how it will go, no matter what he'll say.

She grabbed the scroll she had in her - or rather Jaime's old jacket's pocket, and gave it to him with an apologetic, kind smile. She didn't like Lollys, that was a fact. But she cared about Bronn. And he'd never be heartbroken no matter what would happen, but she still wanted him to be happy - or pleased with himself at the very least.

Bronn took it and quickly read through it. She tried to look at anything else but him as he did so.

"Lollys will marry--" Bronn looked at her, she couldn't read his expression. Tyrion could read him well, but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. "But your sister said--"

"My sister says a lot of things and it's a surprise she's still alive after all those lies." she explained. "Cersei won't give you a castle. She wouldn't give me a castle either. We were helping Tyrion and she doesn't like it at all."

Bronn kept his gaze on her and he seemed unreadable. Unreadable and completely calm. Sometimes she wondered what kind of adventures he had been through to be that calm and uncaring about certain things.

"That's not why you're here. There's somethin' else." he pointed out facts really well.

"I'll go to Dorne with Jaime. We'll bring Myrcella home and I'd- we'd like you to come as well."

They looked at each other without a single blink and it reminded her of the times when they were doing this in boredom in Tyrion's chambers, when he was still dealing with Joffrey's stupidity as Hand of the King. They'd compete to see who blinked first. Bronn always won no matter how much she cheated.

"You hate Cersei."

"I do."

"But you'll go to Dorne to find her daughter..."

"I don't hate Jaime."

Bronn tilted his head and raised one of his eyebrows as if he'd say 'you can't bullshit me'. She really couldn't.

"I don't hate Jaime that much."

"It's still not a good enough reason to go. And if it's not a good reason for you to go then I won't go either."

She tried to remain cold like all the Lannisters who were great liars. She was a great liar too, but Bronn was too good at sniffing her lies out.

"In Dorne I can finally lose Jaime. And when I'm out of his sight I can finally go and find Tyrion." she explained, her lower lip twitching slightly as she waited for his answer.

Please say yes.

"Well, that seems to be a good enough reason." Bronn changed his posture, his hand landed on the handle of his sword as his back straightened.

"So you'll come with me?"

"For a decent price."

She laughed as she took a step back, her mouth hurting from the movements. It's been a while since she laughed.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. You are Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, you must have a very expensive price now."

"That's the world we live in."

She looked up at him with a smile, her cheeks slowly turning a shade of pink as she knew what she'll say. "Somehow I knew that's what you would say, so I already thought of a price."

He seemed intrigued, that much she could read from his expression.

"Really?"

"I paid you instead of Tyrion sometimes, of course I did!" she tried to act hurt, but failed miserably. Instead she just smiled.

"So what? You'll offer me a castle I won't get like your sister, or gold and silver like your brother?"

"I'll give you Casterly Rock." she said quickly, her mouth running dry.

She didn't think she would ever see Bronn surprised or confused for even a moment. But in those few seconds he looked like it, even if his face stayed completely calm, only his eyebrows raising slightly.

"Casterly Rock? Now that your father's gone you'll just give it away to a sellsword?"

"You're a knight now." she argued. "And I won't give it away. I'll keep it."

That looked like the very moment she broke her very best ex-sellsword. Bronn stayed completely still, even his fingers weren't tapping a rhythm on the handle of the sword.

"Jaime can't have Casterly Rock, he's Kingsguard." she began to explain quietly. "Tyrion can't have it either when everyone's looking for him in all the Seven Kingdoms. Cersei is too busy to notice that I'm stealing it from her, but if she tries to stop me I'll fight for the damn castle for you."

"But-- you can have it?" Bronn found his voice and pointed at her with his finger.

"I can." she confirmed and then with a grin added: "We can."

"You--" for a moment she thought Bronn lost his voice. "You never wanted to get married-- Tyrion said you never got married, because you always won against Tywin when--" she waited patiently for him to finish. "And you want me to marry you so I'll go to Dorne with you?"

She stayed silent and so did he.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'd let you marry me even if you'd say no to Dorne." she said quietly after a while, avoiding his eyes.

Bronn looked at her like she grew a second head. She almost checked to see if he's right.

Then his eyes cleared, his fingers started to play a rhythm and he grinned.

"You missed me that much?"

She didn't know what to say to that. He continued to observe her.

"Or were you just jealous?"

A loud 'excuse me' was stuck in her throat as her cheeks turned red.

"I don't understand how this has anything to do with--"

"You were jealous!" his chuckle almost made her crawl away in shame. "Giving away Casterly Rock because of Lollys Stokeworth who I won't even marry-! Gods, you're a crazy woman!"

"Hey!" she tried to argue, but every other word was stuck in her throat when Bronn grabbed onto her shoulders and then touched her cheeks with both of his hands.

"A damn crazy woman."

"Every Lannister is crazy."

"But it looks good on you."

She wondered what she should do. She had been in war with him, she had been drunk with him, she had protected King's Landing with him... Yet none of those seemed as scary and unsure as that.

"It's part of my charm." she quoted and Bronn grinned. "But you, who wants a castle this badly, accuse me of jealousy... Other Lords would kill for that castle you know."

"I'm a sellsword, darlin'."

"A knight." she corrected him.

"Once a sellsword always a sellsword. I'd kill all those golden boys for you."

"For me?" she asked, her lips once again twitching. "Not for Casterly Rock..."

"You're my favourite customer, you deserve a discount."

She took a deep breath as his fingers pressed into her skin. She liked being close to him - that close.

"A discount? Really?" she teased with a small smirk. "What, you'll only take half the castle?"

"I don't want the damn castle, your sister can keep her castles."

"Gold then?" she asked as his thumb danced around under her eye.

"Your brothers gave me plenty."

"Rich man, huh?"

"Rich enough."

"I'm afraid I'm running out of options here."

"I'll take the other part of the offer."

She stopped breathing for a second.

They danced around each other for a long time. They jokingly flirted when Tyrion wasn't around or when Bronn was helping her learn how to be a decent enough fighter. But that - that was straight forward, no rational thought given.

And when Bronn finally kissed her she thought 'Jaime's gonna kill him'.

And then their lips started to dance around and she thought 'he'll kill us both'.

But all those thoughts were forgotten when one of his hands found her waist, pressing her close to him. Bronn was a good kisser, but then again, Bronn was good at everything - most of things. She didn't remember ever imagining his lips on hers, but she knew that's how she wanted a good kiss to feel. Just the right amount of passion mixed with the right amount of roughness.

"So," she began after they parted. "you'll come to Dorne with me?"

"Gods, you're annoying!" she laughed with him. "Yeah, I'll go to Dorne with you and your Golden Boy, so you won't get killed."

"I can defend myself, you know, I had a wonderful teacher."

"Yes, a rather good-lookin' fellow."

She smiled as she let go of his shoulders. She looked towards the castle Bronn most definitely won't get, and she felt rather happy about it.

"Can't argue with that." she joked. "Jaime's gonna kill us both."

"So you didn't tell him your plan to get married."

"Of course I didn't. He thinks I'm offering you some castle far from here."

"That's why I'll look out for your ass 'til we reach Dorne. Then I'll steal you away, marry you and help you find your brother." he explained.

"Oh, he'll kill us for sure." she said and then looked at him. "Can I steal you away now?"

"I was thinking of saying goodbye to Lollys."

She hit his arm with a pout.

"You'll come with me to have some wine before we go."

"And your brother?"

"He'll have a fun time with Lollys around. I'm sure she enjoys his company."

Later, with cheeks red from the wine, she climbed the ship with the men and when Jaime wasn't around to see, she rested her head on Bronn's shoulder, letting him grab onto her waist with anything but courtesy.

#crying sobbing this is my favourite

[hauerhoetime]

mechanicbf!eddie

#frothing at the mouth fr

[hauerhoetime]

So real

who needs irl romance when you have season 2 anthony bridgerton

[hauerhoetime]

You are so incredibly kind and I'm glad to be a friend to you <3

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[hauerhoetime]

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

————

“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing. 

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long. 

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong. 

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He’s buttering you up and you know it. 

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof. 

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige. 

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck. 

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others. 

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues. 

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble. 

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin. 

“You could just stay,” he drawls. 

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump. 

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere. 

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble. 

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary. 

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind. 

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. 

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours. 

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention. 

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time. 

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment. 

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight. 

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on. 

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included. 

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy. 

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?” 

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather. 

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content. 

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain. 

“Dammit,” you say. 

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention. 

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?” 

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today. 

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin. 

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night. 

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number. 

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it. 

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him. 

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked. 

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder. 

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof. 

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor. 

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face. 

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear. 

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.” 

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser. 

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head. 

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you. 

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands. 

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames. 

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life. 

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats. 

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has. 

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe. 

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice. 

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline. 

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets. 

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?” 

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip. 

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue. 

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.” 

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)

[hauerhoetime]

the way i loved you || eddie roundtree x reader

tw : kissing, making out, profanity.

synopsis : jealousy isn't the best between eddie and you...

words : 932

Interviewer : Do you miss anything?

Y/N : Yeah. I do miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain.

Camila invited all of us over for her house party. The rain had cleared away as I sat in my taxi, giving me the perfect opportunity to run across the street without getting soaked. 

The party was packed. People jammed in the house or outside in the backyard.

I looked around, desperately trying to find someone I recognized. I could only look for so long before a body was thrown on me and brown hair covered my vision.

“I’m so glad you made it, Y/N!” I could instantly recognize it as Camila. 

“I’m so glad to see you, where are the others?” I asked as she was being pulled away by a mob of people.

“They might be outside. At least that’s where I saw Eddie and Graham last!” She yelled over the loud music as she was pulled with everyone.

I made my way outside as I saw the group of boys all huddled together. Except it was only Eddie and Warren.

“Y/N!” Warren exclaimed as he ran up to me, engulfing me in a hug.

I hugged him back, “Where’s Karen?”

Eddie sighed, “Her and Graham went off somewhere.” 

I knew what was going on between Graham and Karen. They both liked each other, and they were terrible at hiding it.

The night went by and groupies came and left. They flirted with Eddie and Warren as I attempted to keep my eyes away from Eddie. It wasn’t a secret that I liked Eddie. I’m guessing most people knew, but it made me even more jealous the way he’d look at the girls that would sit on his lap.

I don’t even know how or why I started liking Eddie, I just did. He attracted me. I’d get butterflies if he’d touch my hand while trying to teach me with the guitar, or when he touched my waist when he would move around in the kitchen.

I sighed loudly before getting up and walking over to grab a drink. Everyone was with someone else as they danced and partied.

“Hey, you’re Y/N L/N, right?” A man’s voice said as he brought me out of my gaze.

I looked over to him, seeing a quite attractive man. I smiled, “Yes, that’s me.” The two of us continued eye contact.

The man grew flustered at my smile, “I’m sorry, I've heard a lot about you, and I’ve seen you in newspapers, wow.” He stammered.

The next hour went by in a blur. We madeout and that was that. I mean, it was a lot. I didn’t fully think of my decisions, do I regret them though? No, of course not.

After he had left (his name was Thomas), I went to the restroom, fixing myself up. My lipstick was smeared and my hair was a wreck. I didn’t get banged, but it looked like I did. 

I took off the lipstick and patted water on my head, trying my best to look as presentable as I could.

The boys sat inside now, in the dark after the power had gone out. There were candles that were lit and blankets being handed out.

“Woo! Where have you been, girly?” Warren asked as he watched me walk down the stairs towards the couch. It was obvious something had happened, especially if my lipstick was off. Warren raised an eyebrow and smirked in response, which I rolled my eyes to.

“Nothing.” I said, flashing him a smile. 

I looked over to Eddie who didn’t say anything, he just looked at me with disgust, he too rolled his eyes. I watched as he got up abruptly, bumping into people as he made his way out of the house

Warren sighed, “You should follow after him.”

The rain was pouring down hard. Harder than what I expected for LA. I could barely see Eddie’s figure in the rain, he seemed to be walking fast.

“Eddie!” I yelled over the rain. “Eddie!” I yelled again, running to catch up with him.

He turned to me angrily as we were inches apart. “What, Y/N? What now?” 

“What has gotten into you? Why are you all of a sudden so mad at me?” I questioned as he held clumps of hair on his head.

“Nothing, Y/N! Nothing. Nothing is wrong because nothing happened.” He yelled.

By now, the rain had drenched both of us, and I shivered from the cold.

“If it’s nothing then don’t act like a dick.” I said to the brunette.

He only sighed loudly, “Fine, maybe it’s because you made out with that guy! Okay? You don’t understand.”

I scoffed at his response “You’ve made out with a million groupies and I don’t do shit about it. Eddie for fucks sake I’ve liked you for so long. You’re the one that doesn’t understand.” 

I couldn’t deal with him anymore, so I decided to walk away from him.

I felt Eddie grasp onto my wrist as he brought me back to him, his hands had found their way to my cheeks as he desperately kissed me. I sunk into the kiss as the rain poured down on us. It was peaceful, no fighting and just us.

I pulled away slowly, allowing myself to breathe.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” Eddie said as he touched our foreheads.

I laughed quietly, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to do something.”

Eddie : She misses me?

Note :

Hi! This is my first post on here! I hope you enjoy, it did take quite awhile to brainstorm

also requests are always open

[hauerhoetime]

Eddie blasts his music in his room while you're peacefully reading on his bed. He's busy bouncing around, playing air guitar, knocking everything over. When the drum solo part comes on, he'll run up to you and smack your ass to the beat.

Once he does his little drum solo and gets back to his air guitar as you're lying, there unfazed.

[hauerhoetime]

✨️Send this to 10 people you think are beautiful and deserve the world! Keep the chain going!✨️

Oh my god you are the sweetest thank you so much 🥺

[hauerhoetime]

thank you @trans-arsonist-liked-these

This shit makes me giggle and I really appreciate it

The fic in question: Keep it forever

#x reader #fanfic #silco x you #silco x reader #silco fluff #silco fanfic #silco arcane #arcane silco #arcane

[hauerhoetime]

I CUT MY OWN HAIR IN MY BATHROOM AND ITS LIKE A 70S LAYERED ROCKER DIRTBAG CUT AND SO HE SO W O U L D TRUST ME WITH THIS!! (Hed probably have to sit in on me cutting my hair a few times to gain that trust- side note imagine having goofy conversations and cutting your hair with eddie like that would be so fun)

And yes Eddie my love of course I'll play with your hair and massage your scalp as you fall asleep 🥰

Imagine cutting your own hair and then Eddie's in the same sitting and yall call it a "haircut date". You do it on a Friday or Saturday and then you go into public like "yeah look at us with our new hot haircuts 😩😩"

Eddie wants you to play with his hair

#sorry when it comes to haur cutting headcanons i eat it up #i love this shit #screaming crying foaming at the mouth #love this bird you're a saint 🙌

[hauerhoetime]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

Oh my god you're the absolute sweetest thank you so much 🥺

#yall i cant the fact im recieving this makes me so happy

[hauerhoetime]

Eddie giving you the princess treatment

[NSFW Eddie note under the cut. tw/tags: teasing language, possessiveness]

#love this with all I have

[hauerhoetime]

I love this because I dress pretty 50/50

Like on Tuesday I'll wear long sleeve layered with a band tee (usually Metallica or GNR only because I have like 4 of each for some reason?? But I do have others) and some jeans with a jacket of some sort (corduroy, leather, or denim)

On Wednesday I'll wear a frilly floral skirt and a dainty white tank top with really cute hair accessories and just lots of light colors with socks to match (I actually have these really cute floral socks that I wear and sometimes I wear them with my Eddie-esk fit and think about him teasing me light heartedly about them)

But the thing is in the summer its easier to wear the lighter stuff because it's less layers and brighter colors so I overheat less while in the winter it's easier to look like eddie because it's cold and the layers are really nice to keep warm

So imagine this mf meets me in the spring/summer and then slowly in the fall I start to wear my other style again and he gives me this letter. I'd have to be like "eddie sweetie love of my life no <3 I just dress like this when it's cold I promise"

You tried copying Eddie's style

#sorry for going on such a tangent #i know none of you care really #but sometimes i read these notes and get happy with how they could apply to my every day life #makes them feel more real #so i like to share :)

[hauerhoetime]

doin a lil research for a gifset

#started in the forest scene #but when he opened the door to his trailer for chrissy #somethin bout it i was just like 👁👁

[hauerhoetime]

Eddie is excited to spend the summer with you

[NSFW Eddie note under the cut. tw/tags: mentions of gr*ping, oral]

#😳 yeah my brain liked this one #teehee

[hauerhoetime]

This is so cute! :) thank you for the tag!!!

I wear a lot of brown but the only brown thing they had made me look like a cowboy 😭

(Also I dont know who to tag but if you see this and wanna give it a try go for it!! Its very fun and silly 😌)

This is so cute! (Link here) 💕

no pressure tags: @corrodedcorpses @comfortcharactercraze @dearest-readers @lofaewrites @littledemondani @xxhellfiregirlxx @violettaskies @likedovesinthewnd @jo-harrington @mysticmunson @somethingvicked @saturnband @moonchildquinn @munsonology @take-everything-you-can @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @melodymunson + anyone else who wants to try it! (:

[hauerhoetime]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP LOVE THIS WITH ALL MY HEART

Kaz Brekker x gender neutral!Reader (oneshot)

Coat Buddies

In which Kaz and Y/n go back and forth sharing a coat and little messages. (Fluff)

Author's Note: yes, I'm well aware there are plenty of these, but I figured I'd try my hand at it. It's also a hold over until I work on "Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender". Enjoy! 🧡 Not related to DatB at all, just a little oneshot I wanted to write. I've also decided that all oneshot author's notes will now be in orange, just because I think it looks cool.

Kaz Brekker has an incredibly nice coat. Warm wool lining, pockets galore, even a secret section where a dagger could perfectly fit. So, naturally, like the thief they are, Y/n decided to steal it. They planned on returning it, of course, so one could consider it merely borrowing. It's not as though they did a job with it on and got his coat torn to bits in the process. There were only a few scratches and maybe one or two tears, if you were really looking.

The next time Kaz wears his coat, (noting how it looked worse for wear right away) he'd found a little crumpled note in his pocket. The words were written in slanted, hurried cursive, ink smudged along the parchment. "Your coat is nice. Unlike you." His lips quirk at the message. It's not untrue, and it's phrased as more of a random observation than an insult. After all, who really expects the bastard of the Barrel to be nice?

Y/n slips on the coat, fingers fumbling over the buttons. Black stitches close the damaged parts of the coat, nearly invisible in the soft cloth. The bloodstains have been washed, like the coat had never been worn in the first place. They shove their hands into their pockets, winding their way through the crowds in the streets. Snow comes down in sheets, the ground two steps away covered with white. Their gloved fingers close over a square of paper. Y/n pulls it out, squinting at the note. It's not their own; the paper is too smooth, the handwriting too neat. "Oh? I'm not the one stealing coats."

"I can't help it. For someone called Dirtyhands, you keep your coat surprisingly clean," reads the next note, tucked between a small tin of jurda and a bar of dark chocolate.

The next note is written on the paper wrapping of a new chocolate bar. "I keep it clean so I can find things. Unlike you, who keeps shoving things into my pockets."

"What can I say? I'm a talented lockpick and thief. I need somewhere to put my stuff. If you don't want me to steal from pigeons, you should have never recruit me to the Dregs." A little smile is scrawled next to the words. Kaz can't help but grin as he carefully pens out his response.

Y/n finds the next note in the special knife pocket, beside the double edged dagger they'd stashed there earlier. "I don't care if you steal things, love. Maybe your next target should be someone with a nice coat, hm?"

"Well that's no fun. After all, these exchanges are the best part of my day."

The back and forth exchange goes on for months. The snowy months give way, melting over the cobblestones, the days becoming as sunny as possible in Ketterdam. This time, when Y/n goes to pull Kaz's coat off the hook, eagerly awaiting a note, it's not there. Kaz is, hands in the pockets of his coat.

"Hey boss." Y/n sheepishly waves. They have no real reason to be nervous. It's not like Kaz knows their the one taking his coat.

"You've been taking my coat." Kaz says with a deadpan expression. Of course he knew.

"Is there a problem with that?" They cross their arms. It's always dangerous to stand up to Kaz Brekker, but Y/n's never been one to stay on safety's side. Kaz shrugs, pulling out a package from desk. It's wrapped in black paper, tied with silver ribbon. "What's this?"

Kaz doesn't respond, only tossing the package to Y/n, who catches it after fumbling. They rip into it with a bit of effort. In the midst of the torn paper, folded and still new, rests a coat. It's identical to Kaz's, only in their size, and orange thread on the cuffs of the sleeves the bright color of jurda. "So you don't keep stealing my coat."

"Thanks." Both teens stand in the silent. Even though both of them are deadly, both broken and torn, their at peace. Y/n turns to leave when Kaz calls after them.

"Y/n. If you wanted to keep borrowing my coat, I wouldn't be against it." Y/n grins, before nodding and leaving Kaz's office.