#and when you were a 4 year old washing bottles and now you’re a 12 year old making dinner

[janeyseymour]

Hey an idea for an epilogue to Love Thy Neighbor would be cool to see how they're doing maybe a year later when they've been living together for a while, or when they tell everyone else at Abbott that they're together. No pressure obviously, love the story!

your wish is my command, llama.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Ousted

Summary: the crew finds out that you and Melissa are dating, and have been for quite some time.

WC: ~2.45k

Since Jared’s arrest with the police three months, a lot has happened. Ellie has only continued to grow and flourish into a beautiful seven year old (Melissa absolutely spoiled your daughter on her seventh birthday, claiming that she had six years of birthdays to make up for), you were able to get restraining orders in place against your husband while also getting all of the child support the bastard owed you and then some (thanks to your girlfriend’s connections), and you had moved into the apartment across the hall and in with the redhead of your dreams.

Ellie absolutely loves living with Melissa, although not much has changed even then. Before the three of you lived together, the redhead was often over at your apartment, and your daughter could usually find the two of you in bed sleeping in as much as you could with the little girl running around on Saturday mornings. You still take her the park consistently, and almost all of her routines are the same as they were when you lived in the apartment across the hall. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make your heart absolutely swell when your now seven year old proudly announces, “Mel! I’m home!” on the rare occasion that you and Ellie venture out without your girlfriend before sprinting to wherever the redhead is in the apartment and launching herself into Melissa’s arms.

What hasn’t changed is that only Barbara knows that the two of you are involved romantically. Everybody else just believes that the two of you are quite close and that you carpool to work because you live in the same apartment complex. It’s not that you’re hiding your romantic relationship- it’s just that you’ve never actually bumped into anybody outside of work because while they’re going out to bars, you’re at home or at the park with your girlfriend and daughter. Neither of you are particularly touchy at school either, so while you hold hands at the park or Melissa will set her chin on your shoulder at home, your work crew doesn’t see those soft, warm moments.

But today is terrible for you. You wake up with a groan, and your hand immediately flies to your lower stomach. PMS really is a bitch for you, and it doesn’t matter how many pills you’re on to try to combat those pains. Motherhood doesn’t stop though, and you go to roll out of bed to wake Ellie for school.

But a gentle hand stops you. “I got her today,” Melissa tells you in her deep morning voice. She sits up and runs a hand through her hair before making her way out of the bedroom and into your daughter’s. You hear Ellie squeal with delight at the sight of your girlfriend, and you can’t help the smile that washes over your face.

You know you have to get out of bed though. Work calls, and with the substitute shortage that seems to never end you know you should be there for your kids- even if it means teaching from your chair with the heating pad pressed up against your body nearly all day. So you roll out and get dressed as quickly as you can before heading into the bathroom to fix your face and ridiculous bedhead.

When you make your way into the kitchen, your girlfriend and your daughter are already eating breakfast and there’s a plate and mug of coffee just the way you like it in your spot. There’s also a glass of water, a few pills, and a hot water bottle waiting for you.

“Good morning,” you sigh as you take your place. Melissa immediately leans over and kisses your cheek. Ellie follows suit.

“Good morning, Momma,” your little girl squeaks out through a mouthful of egg.

You smile over at her before reaching for the medication and downing it with a gulp of water. The hot water bottle gets placed where you’re hurting the most, and you groan in discomfort as you pick up your fork.

“That bad, huh?” the redhead looks at you, clearly concerned at the amount of pain you’re in.

“I’ll be fine,” you grumble. “Just don’t let me forget the heating pad when we leave today.”

Melissa gives you a look of pity before finishing off her breakfast. She clears her spot at the dining room table before glancing to your daughter. “Go be a good girl and get ready for school on your own today?”

Ellie finishes off the last of her breakfast and races for her room.

“And brush your hair the right way, El!” your girlfriend calls after her. Ellie’s giggles can be heard from her room.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled getting her up and ready today.”

“Take it easy today, okay?” she tells you before kissing the top of your head. “I’ll take care of El today. All of you have to worry about today is getting through.”

The three of you are out of the apartment and in the car much faster than you had anticipated. And of course, you forgot the heating pad in your bedroom as you head out for the day, your mind only on the hot water bottle in your clutch. You only realize that once you’re in the staff lounge sipping on your second cup of coffee for the day.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, but of course Melissa hears you. So does Ellie.

“Momma, you said a bad word,” your little girl scolds you.

“Momma forgot the heating pad today,” you groan as you hold your stomach.

Ellie purses her lips into a fine line, as does your girlfriend. “Oh.”

“Shit, I’m sorry I forgot to remind you,” the redhead places a gentle hand on your shoulder as she apologizes. “I’ll run back home and pick it up during prep today.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you sigh back. “I can survive the next eight hours.

You indeed, are barely surviving by the time your prep comes around, and your kids head off to their special class without you there to escort them down the halls. They make their way through the building silently, knowing how much you hate when they chatter in the hallways and wanting to make you proud. Of course, on her way back from dropping her own class off, Melissa runs into your class. She finishes taking them down to the music room before making her way into your classroom.

“Y/N? Hun?” your girlfriend knocks on the doorframe lightly, and the sight in front of her nearly breaks her heart. Your curled up in your desk chair as a few tears make their way down your face.

You brush away at your tears quickly, praying she hadn’t seen them. “Hey.”

She makes her way into your room, closing the door behind you. “Babe, are you really hurting that bad?”

You just nod. “I forgot the heating pad, my water bottle is cold, and I thought I had Midol here, but I was wrong.”

“Honey, I can run-”

“You’re not running home and missing your prep period because I’m an idiot,” you groan. “I’ll be fine.”

“At least let me heat up your water bottle for you.” She holds out her hand, expecting you to put the object in her hand.

You sigh in reluctance before giving it to her. “Thank you.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head. Melissa peers into your coffee mug, which is relatively empty, before plucking it off your desk and heading down the hall for the staff lounge. 

She returns a few minutes later, and you give her a grateful smile. She presses a quick kiss to your temple before she pulls a chair up next to yours and starts on her grading as her free hand gently rubs your back. With the warmth of her hand and the bottle pressed up against you, you manage to doze off. You only wake when she shakes your shoulder gently with an apologetic look.

“Huh?” you grumble as you open your eyes blearily. It takes a second for your eyes to focus again, but when they do she’s standing right in front of you with concern in her own sparkling green eyes.

“Babe, you fell asleep,” she tells you. “Are you really sure you’re okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you hum out as you stretch just slightly from being in a ball for the last thirty minutes. You go to stand to pick up your kids, but your girlfriend stops you.

“I got ‘em,” she promises. She returns with your kids a few minutes later.

By lunch, you’re absolutely drained. Your kids were being well-behaved for the most part, but there’s always shit that you have to deal with when it comes to them. You groan as you make your way down to the staff room, and when you expect to see your girlfriend she isn’t there.

“Anyone seen Melissa?” you ask as you grab your lunch from the refrigerator.

“She just left,” Janine says. “Said something about having to run out, but she’ll be back soon.”

You scowl as you sit down in your spot. You know where she went- home to grab your heating pad and Midol.

“Why?” the second grade teacher asks.

You shrug. “Just curious. She normally beats me in here.”

The redhead comes in about ten minutes later with your heating pad in hand. “Hey.” She plugs it in and hands it to you.

Gregory, Janine, and Jacob all give each other questioning looks. Their looks only grow more confused when you take it from her hastily and press it against your abdomen.

“Melissa, I told you not to go home and get it,” you sigh as the pain starts to go away.

She just shrugs and hands you the bottle of pills she brought from home too. And then she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning to get her own lunch.

That has Jacob and Janine’s mouths fall open.

“Close ‘em,” Melissa quips. “You’ll catch flies.”

“What- what was that?” Jacob points between the two of you frantically. “What was that?!”

Melissa rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t give them the response they’re looking for.

“‘Home’?” Janine searches for words. “A kiss on the head? What is going on here?!”

“We’re dating,” you sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

“Dating?” Gregory asks. “As in… you’re seeing each other romantically?”

“That’s kind of what dating means,” you quip.

“Since when?” Jacob asks. “Mel Mel, I thought we were tight!”

“We are, Jacob,” your girlfriend rolls her striking green eyes again as she sits down next to you. Now that the cat is out of the bag, you pull your chair a bit closer to hers and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Since when?” the man asks again.

Melissa takes a bite of her own lunch. “Officially? About nine months. Unofficially? The day I met Y/N and Ellie.” Your girlfriend looks to her work wife with a smile.

“You knew?!” Janine asks Barbara incredulously.

The kindergarten teacher just laughs. “Melissa is my work wife, of course I knew. Why do you think I’m Auntie Barb whenever Ellie sees me now?”

“Oh my god,” Jacob gasps. “It all makes sense now!”

“What’s the commotion?” Ava asks as she waltzes into the staff room. 

“Y/N and Melissa are dating,” Barbara tells your boss. “And everyone else just found out.”

Ava gives the two of you a look in approval, not that you see it with your eyes still closed. “Does this mean Melissa is now a milf too?”

“Ava,” Melissa warns lowly.

“What?” the principal asks. “We all knew you was hot, but now you’re like a mother- milf!”

“I am Ellie’s mother,” you grumble as you open your eyes to glare at your boss.

Ava gives you a smirk. “And we all done been knew you was a milf.”

“Ava, I swear to God,” you warn. “I am not in the mood for this right now.” You close your eyes again, and that gets your principal to quiet her mouth. It doesn’t get the others to stop asking questions though.

Melissa answers them, mostly shortly, for the rest of lunch. The bell rings, indicating that the lunch period and recess period is over though, and you groan as you remember you have to get through the rest of your afternoon with the kids.

Thankfully, they’re angels for you, and you have no doubt in your mind that your girlfriend gave the class a talking to while she was bringing them back in from outside. 

You head outside a few minutes late to monitor dismissal duty. When you get there, Ellie is already on Melissa’s hip and clinging to her as she animatedly tells the redhead about her day.

“There’s my little girl,” you sigh as you make your way up to them.

“Momma!” your daughter brightens at the sight of you. She reaches for you before remembering that you aren’t in the state where you can really hold her right now while standing up.

“You can cuddle your momma at home,” Melissa promises her. Ellie seems content with that compromise, laying her head down on the second grade teacher’s shoulder. 

Dismissal is over not much longer after that, and the three of you head home. Your girlfriend cooks dinner, you get your daughter to do the worksheet that her teacher sent home, and then you curl up on the couch like you usually do after a long day at work. Ellie snuggles right up to you and promptly falls asleep listening to your heartbeat as she watches her beloved Bluey.

Melissa reaches for the remote and lowers the volume of the television before speaking. “So, how do you feel about the group knowing? About us?”

You shrug against her. “I don’t mind- I’m surprised it took them this long to find out actually, but I’m shocked you ousted us with a kiss to my head.”

“You looked like you needed it,” she tells you before pecking your cheek.

You smile. “I did. And, thank you for bringing me the heating pad, as much as I was annoyed you missed some of your lunch.”

“Anything for my girl,” the redhead chuckles against you. “Think you’ll be feeling at least a little better tomorrow?”

“I doubt it,” you sigh. “You know how I am.”

“I do,” your girlfriend frowns just slightly. “We’ll make sure that we don’t forget the heating pad tomorrow though, yeah?”

You nod against her shoulder.

“And if we do, just know that I’ll run home again for you,” she promises you. 

TAGS, and lmk if you wanna be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[pisupsala]

Of All The Stars in The Sky | 9 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings |Mature content | 18+ only[WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut

Words | 6.1k

Index | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Library

Chapter 9—The Very Thought of You

If you thought your day had been going badly so far, it was about to get worse. Auntie sent you on your way with a large bottle of hard liquor from her personal stash, stating: “Poor Rooster will need it more than me.”

Your heart clenches. How are you supposed to tell him? He’ll be angry—of course. It would be strange if he wouldn’t be. But you are scared. Scared he’ll be mad at you, that he won’t believe it’s really not your fault. However, you also don’t have a solution, anything to soften the blow. How do you tell someone their only hope of getting home might just have, quite literally, gone up in flames?

Well, thank god you have plenty of time to agonize over it. There’s an unexpected disruption in the train connection from the north to the capital. Well, unexpected… the night guard’s words suddenly have a different weight. You dismissed them quite easily earlier, seeking comfort in believing they were just drunk ramblings from an old, lonely man. But you’ve been walking along the deserted road to the next city, a good ninety minutes away by foot. At this rate, you should be happy you’re back home by dusk. 

And then you still have to break the news to Rooster.

You really don’t want to add his anger and disappointment to the pile of the awfulness of your day. Sighing, you trudge through the high grass, mud squelching under your boots. That said… if your roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want Rooster to keep something this important from you. If anything, that would make you even angrier. 

It’s late afternoon already, but at least it’s sunny. It’s one of the first days in the year when you can smell the early spring blooms on a gust of wind. Better days are coming. 

The bottle it glass bottle full of liquor is heavy in the makeshift knapsack in your hand. You’re barely halfway, but you haven’t seen a car pass yet. Well, no, you’ve seen cars pass, but they’re military trucks or sleek black Mercedes—neither carries the particular folk you’d be wanting to hitch a ride with.

As if they would stop for you right now. Auntie cleaned your increasingly threadbare coat pretty well, and you washed your face and hands before you left, but your pants have big dirt patches on the knees—the mud from the bank you’ve been walking on has splattered over your boots and trouser legs. You didn’t even really bother fixing up your hair, electing to tie it up with a scarf so it would be covered from the dirt in the cellar.

No one in their right mind would stop to give you a ride, which is just as well.

You haven’t been on a proper hike for a long time, and your legs actually hurt by the time you reach the station at the next town over. People are waiting, so hopefully, the trains are operating here—you skim the extensive timetable pinned next to the ticket booth. Unfortunately, you missed the last train by ten minutes, and the next one won’t be along for another half hour. 

Fuck, today is really not your day, is it?

***

Bradley thinks he might have burned a trail through the floor from all the pacing he’s been doing. You mentioned you might not be back until later, but promised to stop by to let him know what happened. He’s spent a fair share of time thinking about you, pleasant thoughts mostly—but never have you consumed every one of his thoughts like this.

By now, you should have made it to the station. The train only takes an hour—pace, pace, pace. So by now, you should have made it to the house. There’s probably some polite small talk—pace, pace, pace. You should have sent the message by now, surely. The reply should not take that long—that frequency is monitored by someone almost permanently. 

Finally, Bradley collapses on the bed. Surely, you wouldn’t dally too long if you had a reply. He doesn’t even want to consider the chance something might have gone wrong—no, you’re smart; you would not have failed when it mattered most. Your blatant confidence had surprised him, but… you delivered. If you had some extra time, Bradley would have put you through your paces a bit more and done more drills—but the fact you got this far in the first place deeply impressed him.

All things considered, this was probably the worst situation he’s been in his life. His mother dying and leaving him an orphan at sixteen after his father died before he was in elementary school would probably always be his darkest day but in a different way. Mav had also been around then to support him, and he wasn’t stuck in the Third Reich.

He can’t focus on reading anything; there’s nowhere for his thoughts to go in the small room. It’s getting on his nerves as his mind seems to be running away with him.

For all the enormous bad luck that Bradley had that faithful night he crashed in the mountains, you were the only blessing he was granted. He decided to follow that night hunter, overestimating his position and nearly paying for it with his life. He was known as a calm, conservative pilot even. Taking risks is part of the job, but Rooster likes to believe he does so in a calculated manner.

The Czech and Polish pilots always flew like they had the devil on their wings, with a bloodlust driving them that he could hardly match. One particularly crazy pilot, Hangman, would always laugh at him that he wouldn’t understand—his homeland wasn’t under occupation, after all.

He would never admit it out loud, but Hangman got to him. So he took a risk, less calculated than usual, as if he had something to prove. But as his parachute pulled him from the burning wreckage of his plane, hurtling toward the earth, he had one thought on his mind: if he is going to get out of this alive, he’d never do something this stupid again.

Sometimes, when he sees your mischievous smile, he wonders if the same anger and pride drive you as those pilots he met. Like you also have a little devil on your shoulder. He shudders at the thought of you having anything in common with someone as annoying and arrogant as Hangman.

It’s turning into late afternoon. It should all be done and dusted by now. Bradley leans out of the window, elbow on the window sill as he lights one of his last cigarettes. It's strange to know his fate might be sealed already, but he has no way of knowing how it will turn out.

It’s a beautiful day; the early spring sun feels warm. He misses going outside and walking around with you. He misses home. 

Although he’s pretty sure when he gets home, he’ll miss you.

The hours pass in a haze. Bradley is sitting at the table, shuffling a deck of cards to at least keep his hands occupied, when he hears your footsteps coming up the stairs. His breath stocks as you come closer. When you reach the final step, he expects you to knock. He’s half out of the chair in anticipation.

Nothing happens for thirty seconds like you’re hesitating to announce your presence. 

He doesn’t want to think about it. 

He refuses to believe it until you tell him.

But the ice-cold realization slithers down his spine: this is bad.

Bradley half-trips over the chair as he suddenly gets up from it. He needs to know. Pulling open the door with considerable force, he’s met with your surprised face. Your hand hovers mid-air, curled into a loose fist like you were just about to knock.

The look in your eyes tells him everything. The disappointment, the pain. He storms away from you, coming to a violent stop within just a few steps on the other side of the small room. You’ve follow him in wordlessly, looking sad and weary.

Leaning heavily on the window sill, head down; Rooster looks defeated. 

“Just tell me.” He says harshly. You bite your lip nervously as you softly put the knapsack on the table.

“We never managed to send the message.” You reply, refusing to let your voice quiver from the overwhelming emotions you are feeling now. “The system shorted, overheated, and caught fire on the second attempt.”

Rooster laughs loudly, humorlessly. You can see his shoulders move, but his head is still down. It’s a scary sound, almost otherwordly coming from him. Then, finally, he looks up, meeting your eye in the window's reflection.

“So I’m fucked.”

You don’t reply—there’s nothing you can say. There is no plan B, at least not right now.

“You really don’t have anything to say, Anya?” He is almost mocking you, lashing out in anger and grief. You shrug.

“There’s nothing I can tell you to make this better.” You reply calmly. “All I can offer is to forget for a little while.” Then, pulling the large glass bottle from the knapsack, you hold it up, knowing Rooster can see it.

Finally, he turns around, still frowning. You don’t like that look on him. 

“Are you suggesting I get drunk?” He asks incredulously. 

“We.” You counter lightly. “Do you have a better idea?”

Rooster narrows his eyes at you but finally just shrugs and sits back down at the table. 

“Did you bring cigarettes?” He mumbles, voice still so flat. It sounds unnatural coming from him. “I’ve been all out since the afternoon.”

“I figured you might be,” You keep your tone conversational, pulling two packs from your pocket. “Here, this should tide you over.”

You shrug off your coat—it’s warm in the small room. You kick off your dirty boots for good measure, not wanting to track mud and dirt through the place. 

Bradley follows your movements from the corner of his eye. You’re wearing the same pants you wore in the mountains, although they’re splattered with mud. They’re a little big on you, he notices, a belt cinching them tightly at your waist. The simple dark cotton button-up shirt you’re wearing is loose, the neckline falling a little deeper than he has seen on you before. Your hair is tied back with a simple light gray scarf, granting him a view of the elegant curve of your neck all the way to your shoulder, the smooth skin tantalizingly inviting. 

However, you pay him no mind, rolling up your sleeves and quickly rinsing the two simple white china coffee cups in the bathroom sink. It does not escape your notice of how neat everything is. Towel folded, toothbrush, razor—everything is neatly arranged in the small space.

You sit down, put one cup before yourself, and push the other towards Rooster. He doesn’t look up from his hands. He looks empty. Defeated. As everything has just now, at this moment, caught up with him. It’s true that you severely questioned his ability to take things seriously, and wondered if he actually understood his situation. But, of course, he did. And seeing him like this is painful.

Awkwardly, you try to wrench the cork from the bottle—the tops of your index and middle fingers still hurt to the touch, so you can’t wrap them around all the way.

“What happened to your hand?” Rooster’s harsh question takes you off guard. But before you can answer, he’s already peeled your injured fingers away from the cork, stretching your arm over the table toward him. It leaves you awkwardly holding the bottle in your other hand. You regard him for a moment, he’s still not looking at you, but his touch is soft.

“When the radio shorted, my hand was on the leaver,” You tell him carefully. “The surge went up through the metal.” 

His fingers trace along the reddened pads of your fingers up to your wrist, where the red scratches mar the skin further. Your palm twitches under his touch.

“Are you okay?” His question is soft.

“I should really be the one asking you that.” You reply emphatically, turning your hand and grabbing onto his. Ignoring the screaming pain in your fingertips, you lightly squeeze. 

“You already know the answer to that.” He finally looks up; the look on his face is heart-wrenching. “So humor me.”

“I’m fine,” You assure him. “It’s just a few scratches. As a kid, I once fell out of the apple tree at my grandfather’s house; I practically skidded down—both my legs were full of lacerations. I was in pain for -”

You stop. Rooster probably doesn’t want to hear this right now. You’re not even really sure why you started telling him that.

“So, a drink?” You ask instead, gently pulling your hand back. Rooster nods mutely, looking at his hands again.

You wrench the cork off, pouring a generous splash—kind of what you assume a shot would be?—into the cups. 

“Cheers.” Rooster picks up his cup without ceremony and downs it in one go.

“This too shall pass.” You don’t know what else to say, but it seems like the right thing to say. As you down your drink—shit, you overcalculated the amount—Rooster just lets out a sarcastic chuckle. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you look at him questioningly.

“What?” You ask, a little bit perturbed as you pour out another round.

“Do you really believe that?” He is serious, you realize. Frowning, looking for assurance almost.

“Show me an empire that didn’t fall.” Your retort, shrugging. 

“Even if we won’t be here to see it?” It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be so dour. You sigh and down your drink. Another overpour. These cups are treacherous.

“If we don’t have hope, we have nothing,” It’s not a particular conversation you want to have, but Rooster probably needs to hear it. “Look. We’ve been on the back foot here since the beginning—outgunned, outmanned, everything. And the resistance system has been absolutely decimated.”

You take a deep breath, staring Rooster down.

“But you are still here. I am still here. We still have a chance.” You shake your head, a sad smile on your face. “We might not see the war's end, but we don’t own the future. But it’s… it’s not really about us on an individual level, you know? At least… I think freedom is more than that.”

“Are you prepared to die for freedom?” Rooster’s question is acerbic, like he doesn’t believe you, although he doesn’t look so angry anymore.

“Aren’t you?” You counter, frowning. 

“I guess I just never thought it’d be like this.” He mumbles, staring into his mug before knocking it back.

“Like what?” You inquire, not unkindly, refilling the cups again. After this, you need to pump the breaks on the alcohol because you haven’t eaten anything in hours.

“In a foreign land. On the ground.” Rooster seems almost embarrassed to admit it.

“Instead of a blaze of glory?”

Rooster chuckles. “I suppose.” He meets your eyes again. “But you never answered my question, Anya. Are you prepared to die for freedom?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” You try to deflect.

“Stop answering my questions with questions.” Rooster looks at you sharply, but his words lack edge. You chuckle.

“Yes.” You say it with conviction, although you’ve never said it out loud before, mainly because no one has ever asked you. There was never a need for that, really, because it was a given. In the resistance, if you’re caught, you’re as good as dead: either you’re just shot directly, you get sentenced to death, or if by some strange twist of faith, you’re sentenced to hard labor, you’ll probably die in a mine or factory somewhere far away from home. There is no other way out: it’s either them or us.

Rooster just nods and holds up his cup. His face looks impassive. You lean forward, clinking your cup against his. “Cheers,” You smile. “To victory. To freedom. And,” You lick your lips quickly, in a nervous gesture. “To us.”

“To us.” Rooster echoes forlornly. As he knocks back the drink, he grimaces. It doesn’t taste any better than the first shot.

Your head is spinning a little now. You should have eaten something. At least it seems to have taken the edge off for Rooster. He looks sad but doesn’t seem angry as he pries open the pack of cigarettes you’ve brought him. You sit in silence together, billows of smoke filling the room. There’s nothing much left to say right now—you both feel awful, but neither of you wants to be alone. Rooster hasn’t asked you to go, and you don’t want to leave either. 

Sitting slumped over in your chair, chin heavily leaning on your uninjured hand, you watch Rooster. He’s leaned back, his long legs sticking out past the table. From a glance, he looks relaxed, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes, and how his mouth is set in a hard line. 

His movements are sharp, the frustration evident as he runs his hand through his hair, messing with his usually neatly combed curls. He is so devastatingly handsome—there is no way to deny that—when he’s sharply dressed, he turns heads on the street. You’ve seen them look.

But now, a little bit messy, unguarded, languidly smoking a cigarette, long limbs sprawling, feels so much more intimate. Your heart is beating faster just looking at him. You know exactly what he looks like under that wrinkly shirt and how defined his muscles are under those rolled-up sleeves. You have felt how warm his skin is and traced the broadness of his chest. God, that drink is hitting you harder than you thought it would, leaving your thoughts to wander.

“You look flustered, Anya,” Bradley comments lazily, not moving his head to look at you, just his eyes. You sit up a little bit straighter, fanning yourself theatrically. 

“It’s stuffy in here.” You reply dismissively. Pushing yourself up from the table, you dainty step over Bradley’s long legs and open the window. His eyes follow you around the room. Leaning out of the window a little bit, a gust of air cools your heated skin. It feels good, almost sobering.

Turning back around, Bradley hasn’t moved from his spot, the cigarette burning to a stump between his fingers. Your heart clenches again because there is nothing you can do to change what must be—for him—a hopeless situation. Stuck, literally and figuratively, in a small room on the top floor of a building in a strange country, thousands of miles from home, and the only hope of getting recused just going up in flames.

So now, you have to believe in both of you. Giving up is admitting defeat.

“The stars are out,” You comment. “Rooster, come see.”

Bradley doesn’t particularly feel like getting up. He doesn’t particularly feel anything right now except slightly lightheaded. But when he turns his head, he nearly does a double take—you’ve heaved yourself onto the window sill, straddling it, one leg already dangling outside. You beckon him, and he starts to shake his head. But then that mischievous smile plays over your face like a magnet. He gets up, discarding the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table.

“Bring the bottle,” You smile. “And my boots, please.”

Bradley hands you your boots. Slipping them on, you swing your other leg over the ledge.

“What are you doing?” He asks, genuinely wondering what had gotten into you. 

“Let’s go stargazing,” Your eyes are sparkling with mischief and wonder, and like a moth to the flame, Bradley follows you. Under the window, about a meter down, is a small ledge of the roof covered in black tar. Bradley had spent plenty of time looking out the window but never really noticed that his room was placed on top of the building, with a tarred ledge around it. Leaning from the window, he sees you a few feet down the ledge, waiting at a rain pipe. You beckon him again.

Bradley promised himself he wouldn’t do anything stupid anymore. He wouldn’t break any more rules—it never worked out for him anyway. Never did. It’s how he got into this mess in the first place. Unnecessary risk. 

Stargazing in the capital of Nazi-occupied territory is on his list of unnecessary risks. 

However—Bradley hasn’t been outside in over a week. It’s getting to him. He’s antsy. 

And then there’s you. Radiant cheeky smile beckoning him. 

You would know if it’s okay, right? 

“Rooster, come on!” Your whisper is carried on a gust of wind, and Bradley can smell spring. 

Fuck it. 

He swings his legs over the window ledge. It’s strangely warm outside for it being so early in the year—there is a bite in the wind, but it’s clear winter is over. Carefully shuffling over the ledge, he comes up to where you are. The wall in front of you is about six feet high, with a thick rain pipe running down the side.

You wink as you wrap your hands around the rain pipe, placing one foot flat against the wall and hoisting yourself up in one fluid motion. Then, you take another step, putting your other foot high against the wall and using your momentum to grab onto the wall's ledge, pulling your upper body up.

You were hoping to do this smoothly—you’ve done this a million times, after all, but instead, as you try to swing your leg over the edge to pull yourself up entirely onto the roof, you tip forward. Then, with a small yelp, you keel over onto the roof. You hear Rooster chuckle. 

Rolling your eyes, you pretend nothing happened, turning back to him.

“Hand me the bottle,” You whisper again. “And then climb up.”

“Why are you whispering?” He whispers back.

“Echo,” You reply simply, voice still soft. “Some crotchety old coot will probably have a fit if we talk too loudly.”

Bradley gets it but also appreciates that you don’t say it’s speaking English that will get you in trouble. He holds the bottle up for you to grab before mimicking your technique, climbing up the rain pipe. You hear the small grunt as he pulls himself up, and even in the darkness of the night, you can see the muscles in his forearms straining. At the crook of his neck, a vein appears as he flexes. You swig from the bottle, unsure if you want to commit this to memory or erase it completely.

Once on the roof, Bradley looks around. The city is quiet, with few lights on the bridges and houses flickering in the darkness. 

You pat the ground next to you. As Bradley sits down, he keeps a respectful distance. One risk is enough for tonight. 

He watches as you take another swig from the bottle before handing it to him and lying back. Averting his eyes, he tries not to notice how he can see the swell of your breasts past the opening of your loose shirt. Taking a drink, he places to bottle between you before laying back too. 

“How did you know about this place?” Bradley looks up at the sky, littered with stars. It feels strange whispering in the open air like this—as if you’re sharing some sort of great secret between you. Like in that moment, you’re the only people in the world. 

“I…” You hesitate. Would it be so wrong if there were one person in this world who knew you? “I found this place years ago with some friends.”

You hear Bradley shift next to you.

“We used to come here to smoke cigarettes in high school.”

“So you live here?”

You turn to Rooster. His head is turned to you, watching you speak. But rather than answer, you just smile. Some things are better left unsaid. He chuckles.

“I grew up around here.” You reply instead, again not quite answering his question. “I would go exploring with my friends; that’s how we found all those service entrances and stairways. I think I was around ten when we first climbed up here.”

“You climbed out of a window onto a roof at age ten?” Bradley is now fully turned to you, lying on his side, head leaning on his hand. He takes another sip from the bottle. “Why?”

“Well…” You move onto your side, too, to face him. “I uuhm… I was terrified of the ghosts that haunted the stairwells.” You chew your lip, embarrassed you’re actually admitting to this. “I thought I heard one come up the stairs, so I climbed out of the window.”

Bradley guffaws, but you immediately shush him, unable to keep the embarrassed smile off your face.

“Somehow, that explains so much about you.”

“You’ve seen those hallways—tell you wouldn’t believe they’re haunted.” You defend yourself lamely, taking the bottle from him.

“Fair.” Bradley concedes. “Do your friends still live here?”

“Most of them disappeared.” Shaking your head, you gaze off into the distance.

“Can I ask… how?”

“Deported, put to work, left the city, fled abroad—it’s hard to say.” You shrug. “There’s no way to know; most aren’t keeping in touch.”

You take a swig. There is only one person you’re pretty sure about where they are—Jakub, who joined the air force after graduation, must have made it to England. If anyone made it, it would be him. He was born lucky. Sometimes you wonder if you should ask Rooster if he had, by any chance, met Jakub in England—maybe they flew together? 

But you never do and never will. It’s information you shouldn’t have and would only put Jakub in danger. And how would you even keep it from his mother? Could you ever look her in the eye, knowing where her beloved son is, and endanger her by telling her the truth? 

Probably not.

“Enough about that.” You turn back to Bradley, a small smile on your face. “Now you have to tell me something about your childhood. It’s only fair.”

He smiles at you—finally. You nervously take another swig, ignoring the sudden blood rushing in your ears.

“Honestly, it’s probably boring compared to yours. There’s a distinct lack of haunted staircases.” He holds out his hand for the bottle. As you hand it to him, you are sure you’re not imagining that he deliberately brushes his fingers against yours.

“My dad was in the Navy, so we moved around often. So I can’t really remember many of the places I’ve lived,” Bradley sounds distant like he’s recounting something that happened to someone else. “When I was in high school, we were already living in Virginia, and I would sneak out of school to watch the planes at the nearby Naval airbase.” 

“Of course, I was found out, and the principal called my mom,” He smiles at the memory. “She grounded me for a month, and I missed the baseball championship game.”

“Oh.” You frown. Your own mother was pretty strict, but you’ve never been grounded like that. “What did your father say about it? Being in the Navy himself?”

“He had been dead for over ten years at that point.” He says it entirely matter-of-factly, without a shred of emotion. You blink at him, surprised.

“I’m sorry,” You offer. He just shrugs like it’s no big deal. He takes a drink from the bottle before his eyes settle on you again. You’re looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes like you’re trying to figure something out, but you don’t say anything. In the end, you just look away.

“So you always knew you wanted to fly?” You ask instead.

“Not always, but I can’t imagine a different life now.” His voice sounds warmer again. “Have you ever flown?”

“No,” You chuckle. “But I’d like to.”

“I could take you.”

And there it is. The teasing little comment that is so Rooster. He looks relaxed now, although he also kind of looks drunk. Your hand feels heavy as you rub it over your face—you’re pretty drunk too.

“Careful,” You tell him lightly. “I might take you up on that offer.”

“I don’t invite just anyone up with me.”

Your brain is starting to feel really hazy, and your judgment is getting increasingly impaired. It’s like all your reactions are delayed; it’s only now that you honestly feel kind of cold. Of course, it’s only a little, but you are suddenly keenly aware that you are a little too eager for Rooster’s flirty attention.

“Let’s go back in.” You offer, sitting up. Bradley follows suit, letting you lead the way. Clambering down the rain pipe, you jump down the last part, almost losing your footing on the landing. For a moment, you see the dimly lit inner courtyard a little too far out before you manage to throw your body back. A hand clamped over your mouth, as much in shock as to stifle a nervous giggle, as you lean against the wall. Bradley hands you the bottle, and his face seems to have soured—you can see the serious look on his face, wide-eyed, but you don’t notice. He jumps down, a lot more controlled than you, as you shuffle along the wall back to the window. 

Slipping back into the room, you rub your hands over your eyes. Everything is starting to spin—you need to go home.

“Do you make a habit of charging into things without regard for yourself or others?”

Rooster’s words are like a bucket of ice water being dumped down your spine. Wide-eyed, you turn to him.

“Excuse me?” You ask incredulously. He is pulled up to his full height, arms crossed, and staring you down. At that moment, you know you shouldn’t really take him on in this discussion—clearly, you’re both drunk—but yeah, you have a habit of charging into things. Especially if it’s unfair or unjust, like Rooster’s accusation. So you mimic his stance, pulling up an eyebrow. 

“You nearly pitched off that ledge and ’t even blink.” He bites out. “What would have happened if -”

“But I didn’t,” You cut him off, getting annoyed. “I know what I’m doing.”

Probably only half true right now, but the point still stands, you think stubbornly.

“You know what you’re doing…” He scoffs, staring daggers at you. “You’re a jumped-up little schoolgirl playing at war.”

You clench your jaw. What got into him? 

You should walk away. You should not engage in a drunk spat. But your sense of self-justice won’t allow you. The comment is uncalled for, and you will defend yourself.

“If I’m only playing at it, I do it well enough, considering you’re still not dead.” You counter, voice taking on an icy edge.

“You could have died just now.”

“I could have died many times over in the last few years.” You try to keep your cool. “Why are you lecturing me?”

“Your attitude is dangerous,” Rooster is livid. How can you be so blase about everything? If you died, he would be left in an impossible position. It’s making his head spin, thinking is hard, but one thought is crystal clear: the thought of you stumbling over that ledge has an icy grip on his heart. Your reaction is completely infuriating—the confidence that was endearing before now grates on him as blind arrogance.  “You are overconfident, barely competent, and don’t understand the consequences of your actions.” He seethes, voice getting louder by the syllable.

How can you not see how important you are to him? 

“I didn’t exactly choose any of this,” You remind him firmly. “I was operating in the background just fine before I found you in that coop. And even then—don’t you dare interrupt me -” Your voice could cut steel right now. 

You hold up a finger to silence Rooster, who just opened his mouth to say something—you hate it when people make unfounded accusations, you hate it when people are unfair, and you especially hate it when people talk over you—Rooster is currently expertly doing everything to make you completely lose your temper.

Bradley is actually stunned into silence for a moment. As an adult, hell, not even as a child, has he ever been told to shut up like that. He would be impressed by how fearless you are, but right now, everything from the top of your head to your muddy boots to every word that passes your rosy lips is making his blood boil.

“And even then,” You continue, voice firm, pulling yourself to your full height and planting your feet. “I’ve been doing a darn good job of it so far, so what’s your real problem?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“A bit rich, coming from you.” You quip bitterly. Your chances of getting killed didn’t grow exponentially since you met him. “Out of the two of us, you’re the one who crashed a goddamn plane.” You add haughtily. 

He looms over you, trying to get you on the back foot. But you’re not going to back down—not from him or anyone. You refuse to be intimidated like that, but your head is swimming, and somewhere behind Rooster, the floor appears to be swaying. You blink heavily, forcing yourself to focus on the flurry of angry words Rooster is still hurling at you.

“I may have crashed, but at least I didn’t burn out on a code high school dropouts easily master.” His voice is low and harsh—you cannot keep the shock from passing over your face. The cruel grin you get in return tells you he absolutely intended for that comment to hurt you. You purse your lips, quickly disguising the pain.

“How come you can’t hold a rhythm, doll face?” He is taunting you. Bradley knows he’s crossing a line, but the frustration for the last month and a half is suddenly pouring out. Everything is mixing into a poisonous cocktail within him: the stress, the pain, the worry—and you. You’re like the spark that lit the fuse on him, and now he can’t stop the raging fire. You look at him with a stony expression. It only pisses him off more. “No one ever asked you to dance? Is that the expression you wore standing at the edge of the dance floor?”

He reaches out to you, nearly trailing his finger over your face. Nostrils flaring, you swat his hand away, stumbling back on your unsteady feet. The chair you bump into noisily drags over the floor. To his credit, Rooster actually looks shocked for a moment—his hand is suspended mid-air, still reaching out to you. He is about to take a step toward you as you regain your footing.

“Don’t.” You cut at him, stopping him dead in his tracks. The shock on his face melts away like snow in the sun, and he looks at you disdainfully. Your heart is beating so hard that it makes you lose equilibrium. So Rooster finally dropped his mask—he had you fooled for long enough with that fun American attitude. 

“I didn’t choose this.” You repeat angrily, voice raw, stomach-churning like you’re about to be sick. “You don’t get to blame me for everything.”

“You think I wanted this? You think I chose this?” He suddenly thunders, taking another step closer to you, moving into your space again. Why does he insist on being so close to you? You stop yourself from physically pushing him away—you might be confident, but you’re not stupid. 

“Yes, actually.” You’re raising your voice to match his volume. “I saw your papers, remember? You weren’t drafted Rooster; you enlisted. You chose exactly this.”

Firmly, you turn away from him and grab your coat off the chair. If he has anything else to say, you don’t want to hear it. Rooster is calling out your name. He doesn’t deserve you listening. Awkwardly folding your coat into your arms, limbs heavy, you realize you probably look like a mess, disheveled and drunk. But you don’t care. You want to get out of here.

You storm towards the door. Is Rooster still talking? The beating of your heart is so loud, the voice in your head urgently calling you to leave; there’s no way you can tell. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Hand on the doorknob, you still.

“You’re a really shit drunk, Rooster.” You tell him calmly, not turning to him; tears are burning in your eyes. You don’t even really care if he is listening. “But it’s nice to finally really meet you.”

note | finally, a regularly scheduled update x

taglist | @katieshook02 | @gretagerwigsmuse | @yanak324 | @helplesslydevoted | @benhardysdrumstick | @chaoticversion | @cherrycola27 | @roosterschanelslut | @notroosterbradshaw | @eli2447 | @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog | @m-1234 | @phoenix1388 | @galaxy-moon | @indigomaegrimm | @annathewitch

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster bradshaw x oc

[tiktaalic]

OBVIOUSLY a 12 year old is not going to be parent of the year. because they’re twelve. they’re gonna fuck up because they’re twelve and don’t know any better and being a kid who’s supposed to take care of a kid is really frustrating. he doesn’t live his life in cheery kindergarten teacher mode because he doesn’t know how to because he’s a KID. but fucking up with sam doesn’t negate the fact that dean was the closest thing to an adult in the room a lot of the times. or that even when their dad was around dean was aware it was something that needed to be Navigated. dean did function as sam’s parent! you can be a kid and do that and do it inadequately but still be an integral part of their development. dean is sam’s parent because a) he took on rearing related responsibilities, however inadequately and b) because he knows he took on those responsibilities and both him and sam conceptualize this as dean carrying the parental roles.

#it’s a complicated thing. everything the winchesters do is dialed up to 100 #is dean raising sam when he’s 4? no jesus he’s 4 #but (and this is all spec based on being able to inference) he probably changes diapers and washes bottles #because that’s what he can do. and the list of things he can do grows as he gets older so he does MORE things for Sam #and when you were a 4 year old washing bottles and now you’re a 12 year old making dinner #you KNOW you’re doing things you shouldn’t have to and you know you’re doing them every day #ergo. you’re his dad. not because you want to be but because sometimes you’re told you have to be #and others times when your dad’s around you figure out that you have to be #like he could not sit down and say father it seems i have been doing a substantial portion of the care for samuel’s wellbeing. i don’t know #if you’re aware but i am also a child so i do not think i’m doing the best job of it. i am going to need you to do more of the parenting so #i don’t have to because as i mentioned i am a child and am not equipped for this burden in the way an adult is. thank you #etxt #spnwatch #nuance! #brothers

[jenohi]

Let Me Love You

"Smoke and Mirrors keep us waiting on a miracle."

“My cousin Y/N is transferring here to SMU. My parents asked me to stay with her and take care of her, so she and I decided to share an apartment. I know we planned to stay here for all 4 years of college but my parents were adamant.” Taeil said to his friends apologetically.

Yuta got up from the table and scoffed. He would never openly admit it to anybody but in the past year he had gotten really attached to his friends, the members of their new secret society, NCT. After their first semester, they had agreed to rent a house together on the edge of campus that they would all stay in for the next seven semesters of university. “How old is she? 12? She’s a university student, why does she need to be babysat by you?”

The other members eyed Yuta wearily, he definitely had the shortest temper out of all of them. After a long pause, Taeyong decided on a resolution. “That’s okay Taeil, we understand. Just remember we’ll always have a room open for you. You’re still a member of NCT. Every Sunday at 8 we’ll still meet here if that works for everybody?”

Taeyong looked around the table and was satisfied when everybody nodded, the last person he saw was Yuta. Yuta wasn’t happy about this, but he knew it wasn’t really his place to tell his friend not to move out. So eventually, he nodded his head in agreement as well and Taeyong smiled. He didn’t see it but Taeil smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as well.

‘In all 21 years of my life, I have never met someone as infuriating as Nakamoto Yuta.’ You thought as you tossed the left over trash from your cousin and his teammate, friend? You weren't exactly sure what their relationship was. When the Moon cousins had initially agreed to share an apartment together in the city just outside their university, the last thing You expected was to have to deal with a constant stream of rowdy boys constantly going in and out of their apartment.

After piling all the leftover dishes into the sink, You turned on the faucet and began to start washing the dishes. You only looked up and smiled when Taeil spoke to you, about to leave their place “Hey Y/N, thanks for making us dinner. It was really yummy!”

Yuta didn’t say anything. He could sense that You always had some kind of edge against him. It bothered him a little bit, but not enough for him to do anything about it. Whenever he came to hang out with Taeil at his place, you usually stayed out of the way so although your presence may have been uncomfortable. It had never outright inconvenienced him.

Once the two had left, You made your way to the balcony of their apartment. You shrieked when you breathed in the remnants of the cigarette smoke in the air. You looked down to see two cigarette butts in the ashtray that had not been properly snuffed out. You picked them up and tossed them on the ground and stomped on them to snuff them out.

You didn’t have an issue with smoking, you even smoked a cigarette or two in the times you were most stressed out but there were few things you hated more than the smell of cigarettes. After snuffing out the butts, you stormed back into the apartment and picked up your phone to call Taeil.

“Hey, I thought I told you to make sure you take care of the cigarettes and the smell when you’re done smoking them!” You yelled into the phone as soon as your cousin answered. “Look, I don’t have an issue with it, but I don’t want to accidentally burn down our entire apartment complex and you know I hate the smell when you smoke too much.”

You stopped your rant when you realized your cousin hadn’t said anything. Taeil was sweet and usually he would have said something to apologize by now. You looked down at your phone, his name was on the caller ID. You brought the phone back up to your ear “Taeil?”

“Not Taeil. This is Yuta.”

“Yuta? Where’s Taeil? Why are you answering his phone? Can you put him on the line?”

There was a pause, You could hear vague mutterings from the phone before Yuta’s voice was back on the line. “Taeil’s busy right now.”

You heard a groan that sounded like someone got hit and then a bunch of voices that followed in an ‘ooh’. Then you heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like your cousin scream. “Is that Taeil? Is he okay?”

“I’ll let him know you called. I gotta go now. Bye.” Yuta said quickly, trying to end the conversation.

“Wait!” You shrieked before he could hang up. “What’s going on? Where are you guys?”

You narrowed your eyes as you heard Yuta scoff into the phone “your cousin Taeil is a grown-ass man. You don’t have to worry about him alright?”

“But-”

“Are you busy tonight?”

“What?”

“There’s a party tonight at my house. Come, starts at 11:30 PM.”

“No, I don’t want to go to a party. It’s a Tuesday! Is Taeil okay? That sounded like him earlier.”

“If you want to check on your beloved cousin, come to my party. He’ll be there. Loosen up a little bit, it’ll be fun.”

“Um, I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Yuta said, hanging up before You could say anything else. You stared at your phone, what in the world had just happened? You looked at the clock to see that it was 10:30. You had an hour to decide if you would actually go to the party or not. Who else was going to be there?

You didn’t know very many people since you had just transferred to SMU, so maybe it was a good idea to go to this party and socialize a little bit. You could take the opportunity to potentially make some friends.

Just as You was about to finish touching up your make-up, your phone pinged. You picked it up to see that it was an address from an unknown number. You tapped on the address to see where it was, as you were doing so, you saw a notification of another message. ‘This is Yuta btw.’

The house was on the very edge of campus and close enough that you could just walk there. You were surprised to see that there were already crowds of people both inside and outside the house. There were colorful lights flashing from outside the house.

‘How the heck am I actually supposed to meet anybody like this?’ You asked herself. You took a deep breath and made her way up the stairs and into the packed house. You threaded through the crowd of people dawdling in the foyer, pushing her way to find some space. Eventually, you made her way into the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief once you had some space to herself.

There was a whole bunch of opened bottles of alcohol and stacks of cups laid out on the island in the middle of the kitchen. You moved closer to the island and started reading the labels of the bottles. In Germany you didn’t go to very many parties, if you wanted to drink you would just go to the bar and order a beer. But you didn’t see any kind of drink you recognized here.

“Do you need help?” a melodic voice asked her. You turned around to see a fairy like girl approach her. You didn’t say anything as the girl grabbed the cup from her hand.

“Do you like Coca Cola?” the girl asked. You nodded and you grabbed a large glass bottle and started pouring the liquid into the plastic cup and then you grabbed the large bottle of Coca Cola resting on the island and poured it into the cup before handing the cup back to You.

“I’m Selena by the way.” Now that You could see her up close, she really did look like a fairy. You didn’t comment on the fact that her hair seemed kinda messy or that her lipstick was obviously smeared.

“Nice to meet you Selena, I’m You.”

Just as Selena was about to respond, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist effectively cutting off the conversation. You were shocked to see that it was Taeil who had his arms wrapped around Selena, he was currently whispering something into her ear that made her giggle.

When Taeil looked up, his eyebrows jumped up to see You standing there. “Hey Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Uh yeah, it was kind of last minute. Yuta invited me actually.”

At this, Taeil’s eyebrows rose even higher. He knew that the two had always been at odds with each other. “Yuta?”

As if he were summoned by the devil himself, Yuta appeared in the kitchen. He strode over to the other side of the kitchen island and started digging through the bottles. Cursing when he couldn’t find whatever bottle he was looking for. He paused when he spotted the drink in You’s hand.

“What are you drinking?” he asked. His eyes looked up, one side of his lips pulling up into a smirk when he recognized You. “So the prissy princess finally decided to show her face to the lowly commoners.”

“I’m not a prissy princess.” You said. You looked down at your cup and then over at Selena, you had no idea what drink the girl had made for you.

“Sorry Yuta. I used the last of the rum to make her a rum and coke.” Selena said, a smirk painted on her face. You tried not to appear too nosy when you looked over at Selena to see her leaning into Taeil. Did Taeil have a girlfriend that You didn’t know about?

It was obvious that Yuta was dissatisfied. He stared you down and when you finally turned your attention to him, he looked down at the drink. “Are you going to drink that?”

You looked down at the cup again, startled, then looked back up at Yuta. “Uh, yeah but you can have some if you’d like.”

You handed him your red solo cup over the kitchen island. Yuta plucked it from your hand and took a slug of it before dropping it back into your hand. “It's good. Try it.”

He drank a lot, half of the cup was empty. You lifted the cup to your face and took a sip, you tried not to make a face as you tasted the bitter rum. This is what people drank at parties?

“What do you think?”

“It’s alright.” You said. It tasted horrible and you didn’t want it anymore. But you didn’t want to offend Selena.

“Liar.” Yuta said, he scoffed as he grabbed the cup from your hands and drank the rest of it.

“I’m not lying!” You said, looking over to make sure you didn’t offend Selena. You were shocked to see that Selena and your cousin had disappeared. “Okay, maybe I lied a little bit.”

Yuta tossed his head back and laughed. “Loosen up. You look so uncomfortable. This is a party, go have fun.”

“I’ve never been to a party before. Everyone is already so...drunk.” You said.

Suddenly everything made sense to Yuta, why the darn girl was always so uptight and prissy all the time. He made his way around the kitchen island and stood in front of You before placing one arm on each side of you and leaning down “they didn’t have parties back wherever you came from?”

What was he doing? You thought. You leaned back as far as you could, the expression on Yuta’s face was smug and you weren't sure what he was going to do. Out of all of Taeil’s friends, you heard that Yuta was the wildest and most spontaneous. “In Germany we just go to bars and drink beer. I’ve never gone to an event so...wild.”

“You think this is wild?” Yuta asked. “Have you checked out the basement yet?”

You shook your head. Yuta grinned, almost maniacally and grabbed one of your wrists and tugged you behind him, pulling you through crowds of people. Unlike how you had to push your way between groups of people earlier, the crowds seemed to part for Yuta and wherever he went eyes followed him.

Instead of pulling you downstairs like you expected, he pulled you up a set of stairs and pulled you into an empty room. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Both You and Yuta could tell that you had been tense and uncomfortable since you had stepped into the house.

“Pick your poison.” Yuta said, pulling open a fridge he had set aside in the corner of his room. “These are all my drinks. This is the good stuff that we don’t share at parties.”

“Wow, you’re letting me have exclusive access?” You said, in an almost mocking tone. Yuta raised an eyebrow.

You bent down to look to see what was in the fridge. You smiled in delight when you saw your favorite brand of beer. You grabbed a bottle and held it against the edge of the fridge and smacked the top with your hand to take off the cap. Yuta didn’t say anything but he was impressed, this was the first time he had seen You behave this way.

Yuta couldn’t say anything when You tossed your head back to take a sip of beer. You made it look like a beer commercial. After a couple more delicate sips, Yuta grabbed one of your arms and pulled you close so that you stood in between his legs and your ear was right up against his mouth.

“Chug it.” he said. You looked at him with your eyebrows raised. Yuta raised his eyebrows in return.

You shouldn’t chug it. That would be unclassy. You thought. But why did you kind of want to? You looked Yuta in the eyes and narrowed your eyes, what was he playing at? The corner of Yuta’s lips pulled up into his trademark smirk as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of the same beer and used his teeth to pop the top off.

Yuta pulled the bottle you drank from out of his hand and replaced it with the one you just opened. He put your already opened one on the desk and grabbed another one before biting on the cap again and spitting out the cap. He clinked the two newly opened bottles together, and lifted his bottle up to his lips.

“I’ll do it with you.” Yuta said.

With the bottle at his lips, Yuta gave you the most taunting expression. He was challenging you, and You never refused a challenge. You brought your bottle to your lips and started pouring the beer back down your throat.

Yuta was both mildly surprised and mildly amused to see how quickly You had finished your beer. In fact, you had finished your bottle before he had finished his. As soon as you finished your first bottle, he picked up the bottle you drank from earlier that was sitting on his desk and handed it to your.

You gave him a look before placing down the bottle you had finished and taking the one you had drank from earlier and tossing it back down your throat as well.

Two beers wasn’t enough to get you blackout drunk. But it was certainly enough for you to start feeling a buzz.

Yuta waited for you to finish your second beer and once you did he took the bottle from you and grinned at you. You grinned back like a loon and with a satisfied grin Yuta grabbed your wrist again and pulled you behind him.

This time, he did pull you down to the basement. And it was wild. It was dark and the lights were colorful. There were people everywhere and this time people did not part for Yuta. People were dancing, or wobbling goofily. The sight was amusing.

You didn’t even notice that you had let go of Yuta’s hand. You found yourself swaying along to the loud beats of the song. You didn’t know who was around you or exactly where you were but you were having fun. Honestly, it was kind of gross as it was super hot and there were at least 5 people pressed up against you but never had you let herself experience this kind of situation.

Yuta cursed when he noticed that You were no longer with him. You would be fine on your own right? He needed to find Taeyong and take care of some things really quick.

You spotted Taeil near a makeshift bar and grinned, you pushed through the people and made your way over to him grinning. He grinned back and waved at you. When you were close enough, he approached you “are you having fun?”

You nodded, dancing along to the beat. “I didn’t think I would but I’m actually enjoying this. I could use a drink though, it’s kind of hot down here.”

Taeil nodded and brought out another red solo cup. “The only thing we have down here is jungle juice. It’s pretty much just cheap wine with juice, but it does the job.”

You took a sip and was delighted to find that it tasted pretty much just like juice and you drank the rest of the cup and before handing it back to Taeil for him to refill. The surprise was evident on his face “I didn’t know you liked these kinds of events. I should have invited you earlier.”

“No it’s okay. I’ve never really been to an event like this before and I don’t think I’d like it. But today I am loosening up.” You declared. You grabbed the cup and wandered off into the crowd of people.

The alcohol was starting to hit you and the people around you were starting to blur. You suddenly felt nauseous when you felt someone grab you by the wrist and jerk you around. When you looked up you saw that it was Yuta.

“Yuta!”

“What’s that in your hand? Where did you get that?” he asked. He tried to grab the cup from you but you kept moving it away from him. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to accept drinks from strangers? Are you stupid?”

You shoved him away, shocked into sobriety by his words. You moved to walk away from him. You thought maybe you had read Yuta wrong and maybe he wasn’t so infuriating but actually he was infuriating and a jerk.

Undeterred, Yuta followed you and grabbed your again. This time he did manage to grab the cup from your hands and he tossed it in a trash can that was sitting in the corner of the basement.

“Hey! What are you doing?” You shrieked.

“What are you doing? Where did you get that drink? It could be roofied.” he yelled.

“What is your problem? I got that from Taeil. You know? My cousin?” You yelled back. This time Yuta had no words. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, you placed both hands on his chest and leaned close to speak in his ear.

“Get lost.”

You used both hands to push him back into the crowd and stepped away from him. You found the staircase that led you back to the main floor and made your way up. This isn't fun anymore. The party was over. Taeil was fine.

“What’s your problem?” Yuta yelled from behind you. You whirled around him and stomped back to him and stood so that you were standing right in front of him nose to nose.

“No. What’s your problem? You invited me to this party. You gave me a drink too! Why are you overreacting over Taeil giving me a drink?”

He followed you out of the NCT house. “Aw, did I make the prissy princess upset? I’m so sorry. Whatever will I do?”

“What’s wrong with you?” You screamed once you were both far enough from the NCT house. You were incredibly irritated, tired, and frustrated.

“What do you have against me? Ever since you’ve arrived at SMU all you’ve done is be such a bitch. To me. And specifically me. Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

You paused. You didn’t realize that Yuta had noticed. You looked away and tried to think of what to say. You couldn’t come up with the right thing to say so you just settled with “sorry.”

“Sorry? You think I’m gonna let you get off with a sorry?” Yuta scoffed. He walked up to you this time, and looked down at you.

“What do you want then?” You asked, not backing down.

“You.” Yuta said, and for a moment it was dead silent. Then Yuta threw his head back and cackled. “That’s what you thought I was gonna say right?”

He didn’t even notice that you had turned around and stormed off back towards the direction of your apartment. He followed you back to your apartment, but he didn’t bother to chase after you. He strolled casually back towards your apartment jingling your keys in his pocket.

As soon as you reached your apartment and reached into your pocket for your keys you cursed when you realized they weren’t on you. You patted your other pockets and fished out your phone hoping that Taeil was still awake. You dialed his number.

“Looking for these?” You heard Yuta say from behind you as he jingled your keys in front of your face.

Just as you reached up to snatch them from him, he moved to hold them behind his back.

“Give those back to me. I want to go home and sleep. This night sucks.”

“No.”

You whined. “Why?”

“Tell me what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for being a bitch can I have my keys back?”

Yuta looked unimpressed.

“Fine. I’ll tell you why I’ve been rude to you, but can we do it inside? You’ll probably think it’s really stupid once you hear.”

“Okay. Move.”

You moved away from the door, and watched as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped inside when he gestured for you to go in. He stepped in after you and shut the door behind you both as you both took off your shoes and stepped into the apartment. Once the two of you were situated on opposite ends of the couch facing each other you spoke.

“The first few times you visited our apartment I got the impression that you were upset with me. That you didn’t want me around. So naturally, I decided to act back. Plus, whenever you come here you and Taeil leave this place a mess. The other guys either clean up after themselves or it’s not so bad and Taeil cleans it up himself.”

Yuta didn’t say anything for a few moments. “The truth is, I didn’t want you here. At first.”

“Great.” you said, turning away from him and getting up from the couch. “Get out.”

“Wait.” Yuta said, grabbing your hand before you could leave. “At first. At first, I didn’t want you here. The truth is your cousin is awesome, before you came we and a few other guys lived together and they’re the closest friends I’ve ever had. We were, we are a brotherhood. And I was concerned about what you coming here and Taeil moving out would do to the dynamic of our friendship.”

“So what?” You asked, turning around to look at him. “What changed?”

Yuta didn’t answer and you were getting annoyed. So you tried to tug your hand out of his. But he didn’t let go. Instead when you tried pulling your hand out of his a second time, he pulled you forward, so hard you fell into his lap.

“I realized I was being really dumb. I realized that Taeil’s cousin is really cool and I started to get jealous that she treated all the other brothers better than me. Then...I started to develop feelings for Taeil’s hot prissy cousin from Germany.”

You didn’t say anything as you were straddled on Yuta’s lap. His forehead was pressed against yours and you could feel his eyes looking at yours, trying to make eye contact you. But you were unsure of how to feel, you kept your eyes looking downward. How had things shifted so suddenly? What was this feeling?

Before Yuta could second guess himself he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. He stayed like that, holding his breath and hoping you wouldn’t push him away. When you lifted an arm around his shoulders and moved your lips against him he breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you in so that your bodies were melded together.

When you ran out of breath you pulled your lips from his and leaned back to catch your breath. Yuta moved one arm from your waist up so that his hand held the side of your head. You leaned your head into it and he leaned forward and began to kiss down from behind your ear to your collarbones.

“I-, we should stop.” you were confused and you were tired. How had things escalated so quickly?

Yuta stopped and lifted his head up. He moved his arm back down so that both arms tightly gripped your waist, holding you against him. You moved your hands to his biceps and tried to push yourself out of his grip. “Let me go.”

“Don’t you think that we should talk about it?”

“No. I want to sleep.” You said, still looking away from him and avoiding his gaze.

He lifted you up wordlessly, you gave up on trying to fight out of his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. You tucked your face into his neck.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Yuta said as he fell back on your bed, still carrying you. “The way we are, we still have a million miles ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Yuta. I need to sleep and I need to think.”

You were saying one thing, but your face was still tucked into Yuta’s neck and your limbs were still wrapped around Yuta’s body.

“Can I stay?” Yuta asked quietly. The truth was, he was nervous and worried that he had come on too strong, that he had played his cards wrong. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard you say.

“Yeah.”

The last thing you heard as Yuta lifted both of you up and under the covers was “don’t you give up. Let me love you.”

#yuta #nakamoto yuta #yutanet #yuta x reader #yuta oneshot #yuta angst #yuta fluff #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct 127 #nct oneshot #nct x reader #frat nct #nct frat #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto scenarios #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct yuta #nct writing #nct writers

[princessphilly]

Tag list:  @ohpuckyeah @joelsfarabee @besthockeyfics @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887 @shelbsatans​

CW: soft smut, mentions of miscarriage, fucked up doctors. 

This is definitely it. Sid and Nina’s story is over but you will see them in the other fics of this universe, including a huge part of Plain Jane

Nina stared at the boxes. It was time to pack but at the same time, she couldn’t do it. 

They were so excited. A baby so early in their marriage had seemed scary but Sid and Nina were ready. They had picked out colors, a room for a nursery, and had begun to discreetly pick up supplies. 

It was nineteen weeks; still early but they were getting ready to announce. Then there was the blood in the toilet three days ago when Nina woke up and went to the bathroom. And now, their first, a girl, was gone. 

The doctor was sympathetic, and said it happens a lot. Most pregnancies never make it to birth, she said. But it hurt that their girl was now an angel. Nina sniffled as she packed the pack-and-play back into the box. 

“Hey, why are you doing that? You’re supposed to rest!”

Nina looked up, tears in her eyes. Sidney rushed to her, lowering himself to the floor. Gathering his wife in his arms, he soothed, “Pretty girl, we’ll have more.”

“But-but-“

Nina’s tears turned into sobs as she relaxed in her husband’s arms. Her momma had a history of miscarriages: what if that meant that there would never be a child?

As if he could read her mind, Sidney replied, “it doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what.”

**

Nina was sleeping, finally getting some rest. Matthew was napping on Sidney’s chest, his little boy still red but much calmer. 

It hadn’t been an easy birth for Nina. This was their third pregnancy but first child to make it past the 2nd trimester. And Matthew decided to come out three weeks early, November 26 instead of his due date of December 17. 

The door opened and Matthew stirred a bit before settling back down. Sidney looked around: his mother was curled into a chair, reading a book while Tracy was scrolling her phone on the couch. The proud grandfathers had gone out to get lunch for everyone. 

Walking in, the doctor said, “The nurse said Nina is healing nicely but we will have to do some stitches. Your son is a big boy.”

Sidney gave him a tentative grin. Matthew was 9lbs, 4 oz and 22 inches long. He was on the bigger side. The doctor continued, “When I stitch her, I can give her a husband stitch, if you like.”

“What is that,” Sidney asked, wrinkling his nose. 

Trina interjected, “Don’t you dare, Sidney.”

In a soothing voice, the doctor said, “it’s an extra stitch to make your wife as tight as she was before she gave birth.” He winked at Sidney. 

Sidney looked at his mother before responding, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Nina managed to say, opening her eyes. “I heard about that stitch and I will sue if you do that to me.”

“You heard her.”

Sidney gave the doctor a hard look as he shrugged, preparing to give Nina only the necessary stitches. Passing his boy to his mother, Sidney said, “I’d like a different doctor.”

“What, I’ve been-”

Sidney took out his phone, ready to start making some calls. The doctor left, grumbling under his throat. Nina gave Sidney a grateful smile before dozing off again. 

**

One of the hardest things for Sidney was the fact that it was best for his boy not to grow up in Canada. As a proud Canadian, that rankled him. He wanted Matt to be more Canadian than American. But when a video of 2 year old Matt skating and hitting a puck dead center into the net made major news, Sidney knew he had no choice. He wanted Matt to have more of a childhood than him, to not feel like he had to be the next one. 

So, his family spent most of the year in Pittsburgh and summers in Cole Harbour or on different vacations. Sidney knew that his son was still “famous” but Matt was still treated as a kid. With Nina’s extended family, there wasn’t any preferential treatment. His kids were the same as their cousins in Nina’s family, giving his children normalcy Sidney never had as a child. 

Sidney raked a hand through his silver hair. As much as he wanted Matt to go his own way, it still freaked him out that his son chose to be a *goalie* out of all positions. He winced as he heard a shot hit the post. Then Matt made a glove save and Sid clapped.

“That’s not the talent I expected but he’s already showing signs of being a better goalie than center, Sid.”

Sidney turned to his longtime mentor and now close friend, Mario. Shrugging, he replied, “I just want him to be happy. He’s happy, I’m happy.” 

Sidney smirked. “Plus, Chloe is going to be the best woman’s hockey player ever. She’s 8 and she’s already playing with 10 to 12 year old girls.”

“True,” Mario conceded. “You’ve transitioned from pro to hockey dad.”

“Eh, can’t forget Aja and Morgan. I’m a hockey, figure skating, soccer, and dance dad. Not bad for a fifty year old washed up player.”

“Who’s washed up?”

Sidney grinned as his wife bumped him with her hip. His baby girl was holding Nina’s hand, her hair pulled up into a dancer’s bun. Chloe was right behind her, still clad in her hockey gear, Aja trailing behind with a book in her hands. 

“I am,” Sidney drawled. 

Chloe piped up, “No you’re not, Daddy! You’re still the best hockey player ever!”

“Yup,” Morgan added while Aja nodded, absorbed in her book. 

“No, you’ll be the best hockey player ever, Chlo’,” Aja stated, closing her book. “Daddy will be the best men’s hockey player.”

As Aja firmly nodded, Sidney and Mario laughed. 

**

Nina let out a breath. It was crazy how just one touch from Sidney made her hot, even seventeen years later. His lips were trailing down her neck, one hand cupping her breasts. “Can you be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina breathed out. Sidney’s other hand was exploring her folds. She was getting wet but menopause was finally calling so Nina knew they would need some help. Leaning away from Sidney, she pulled out the lube from the drawer. 

“Thanks, pretty girl, but I’m more interested in burying my face in your pussy,” Sidney laughed. 

Nina replied softly, “No problem. You know my mom just came back from her cruise so the girls will go find her first this morning.”

“Even better. Spread your legs for me, pretty girl. You know what daddy wants.”

Nina let out a giggle that quickly turned into a muffled moan as she felt Sidney’s tongue gently lick through her pussy, his nose nudging her clit the way she liked it. He ate her slowly, bringing Nina close to the edge but never letting her go. Then Sidney stopped, kissing his way up Nina’s body before kissing her, letting Nina taste herself. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Nina urged, “Please, Sidney,” managing to keep her voice at a whisper. Before he could answer, they heard some girlish giggles and they both paused. 

“I locked the door last night,” Sidney whispered into Nina’s ear. Nina giggled then moaned as she felt Sidney’s fingers spread the cool lube over her pussy. Then he entered her, nice and slow.

“Love you, pretty girl,” Sidney whispered as Nina arched against him. She was clenching around his cock; he wanted to go slow and savor it this morning but Nina had different ideas. 

Nina whispered, “Love you, too,” her fingernails digging into his back. Then she squeaked as Sidney withdrew, turning her onto her hands and knees.  

**

“Momma, you promised to make breakfast today.”

Nina straggled into the kitchen, her robe wrapped tightly around her body. “Morg, it’s 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, it’s still morning.”

Chloe piped up, “You’re usually up before us everyday, Momma.”

Nina shared a look with Sidney who squelched a laugh. He had planned to just go one round with his wife but it turned into three to start off the day right. 

Sighing, Nina grabbed bowls to prepare waffles. Morgan added, “Mimi made waffle batter already, Momma.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Nina sincerely stated. 

Tracey shrugged. “I figured I’d give you a break since I’ve been gone. You know I love my grand girls.”

Matthew yawned as he walked into the kitchen, his hair sticking up all over his head. “Hi,” he sleepily said before going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of Gatorade. 

“It’s too early for energy drinks, Matt,” Sidney chided. 

“Sorry, Dad.”

Matthew was about three weeks from turning twelve and the whole teenage era was coming fast. Now, he was sleeping in and staying up late. Nina sighed, it was too early for one of her babies to grow up. 

“I would have woken up earlier but these girls had to jump on my bed at 7am, Dad,” Matthew complained. “They said your door was locked. Why do they always have to bother me?”

“Because we love you, Matty,” Aja said with a mischievous smile. “And some girl sent you messages while you were asleep.”

Matthew glared at his little sister. “Girls are ugly. Especially girls like you.”

Sid and Nina shared a look. Sid just had “the talk” with Matthew and they were both happy he still saw girls as ugly, at least for now. Tracey said, “Oh baby, that’s no way to talk to your little sister.”

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Matthew said, giving his grandmother a kiss. “Momma, can we have blueberry waffles today?”

“Plain waffles,” Nina said firmly. “You can add blueberries, strawberries, or peaches as a fruit topping.”

“No chocolate chips?”

Chloe and Morgan gave their mother their biggest puppy-dog eyes. Nina shook her head. They then give Sidney the same look, saying together, “Daddy, can we have chocolate chips with our waffles?”

Sidney laughed as he picked up two of his girls. “You two already know the answer to that!”

Chloe pouted as Morgan laughed at the silly faces Sidney was making. Sidney added, “It’s Saturday so you know today is ice cream day after dinner. Did anyone feed Maddie?”

Nina giggled as she turned on the grill. At the mention of her name, Maddie, their dog, ran into the kitchen. Pharaoh, their cat, followed Maddie in, stretching before walking around her legs. As her family noisily talked, Nina sighed in happiness. She loved her family, life was perfect.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #sidney crosby imagines #sidney crosby fics #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby fic #sidney Crosby #all bets are off #fluff #nhl fic #nhl ref #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fiction #hockey fics #hockey fic #nhl smut #hockey smut #smut #soft smut

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Knitting You a Home - 8

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,731

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - Rated PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Talk of nightmares - discussion of Hybrid abuse - implied mentions of drinking, drugs, hybrid mills - abandonment - Underground fights.

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

You weren’t expecting Namjoon to come home at a normal hour. To keep yourself busy after Luna headed out, you plated all the goodies you made and cleaned up the kitchen, softly humming the entire time as you refrained from baking any further.

When dinner came and went, you had curled yourself up on the couch. The blanket you were knitting was long enough to cover your knees, but it still had a long way to go. In the living room there were two large windows looking out the front yard, a picture-perfect view of the tall oak and evergreen trees that surrounded your neighborhood.

The sky overhead turned pink as the sun began its descent, washed out burnt orange lights streaked the sky until it reminded you of peaches. If Namjoon had been here, he’d find a spot outside on the grass and watch until the sky was overflowing with stars. By then the fireflies would be out and he’d want to stay, mesmerized as they sparkled on and off until you went out with a shawl wrapped around your shoulders and a teasing grin to try and coax him back inside.

The knitting needles had stopped clicking a while ago. You were so lost in thought that you set the project back in its basket and stood up, tugging your sweater around your body as you made your way over to the window.

In the summer the sun didn’t set until eight at night, dragging out the painted skies for as long as nature allowed for it. Glancing around the room, an old book sat on top of an end table, the cover flipped open to reveal thinly aged paper. It made you smile softly as you picked it up, flipping through it to find the small black typed letters of poetry written long ago.

He was such a lover of words, always amazing you with how wide his reading interests ranged from, to how he even viewed life and the world. After everything that he went through, he still spoke about the world like it was a gift.

Screaming echoed in the house as you shot up in bed, chest heaving as you threw back the blankets to hurry to Namjoon’s room. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have entered without knocking, but this wasn’t the first time he’s had the nightmares during his stay with you.

It had been over a month since the storm, and while Luna had said many times that they weren’t as over-packed at the Homeless Center, you didn’t have the heart to tell Namjoon that he could go back. At least here he had a bed – a real bed and not a cot – his own room, new and clean clothe,s and home cooked meals. Even if the Center wasn’t over crowded since the storm had long since passed, it would still be loud and crowded, the very things that Namjoon didn’t need right now.

Turning on the lamp on his night stand, you crouched over Namjoon to gently shake his shoulder. He was breathing heavily as he gripped the blankets underneath him, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and tears formed under his eyelashes, dripping down his cheeks.

"Wake up Namjoon,” you called out, briefly scratching his ear as it twitched. “It’s just a bad dream hun, it’ll be all over when you wake up. I promise.”

He painfully cried in his sleep, body flinching when you touched him, but you didn’t stop trying to wake him up. It hurt to see him suffering like this and you knew, had he gone back to the Center, no one would have attempted to wake him once they realized this wasn’t a one-time occurrence.

“It’s gonna be okay Namjoon, you just gotta wake up.”

It took a little more coaxing on your part, but with one final shake Namjoon gasped as his eyes opened wide, searching around the room until they landed on you. He didn’t look away and he didn’t rip his arm away, a positive sign in your book since he had been doing that the previous times you woke him from a nightmare.

He never told you about the nightmares. Instead, he simply apologized and said to not worry about them. There was just one problem, you did worry. You worried because you knew that whatever was haunting him had been happening for years and every morning afterwards, there were dark circles under his eyes.

You worried because over the course of the last month, you’ve grown to care about Namjoon.

The clock on the nightstand said it was three a.m. Knowing that you weren’t going to be falling asleep anytime soon, you straightened so you were no longer leaning over Namjoon and let go of his shoulder.

“Want some tea?” You gently asked, realizing that the two of you had been staring at each other without speaking, long enough to make your cheeks blush.

Namjoon glanced at the clock too, momentarily coughing into his hand as he tried to catch his breath. You weren’t expecting him to say yes, he declined each time you previously offered after his nightmares. Knowing that, you still asked because a part of you hoped that one day, he’d trust you enough to open up to you.

“Sure,” he spoke, his voice hoarse from crying.

Your eyebrows lifted in shock, surprised that he had agreed. You didn’t let that deter you though, instead you gave him a small smile. “Okay. Come on out when you’re ready.”

Namjoon nodded once and you left shortly afterwards, closing the door behind you to give him privacy. Internally, your heart was leaping around, happy that he was appearing to come out of his shell, even if it wasn’t in the greatest circumstances.

Once you reached the kitchen, you moved out of habit, used to making late night drinks for Luna, but when you reached for the tea, you hesitated. You didn’t know what type Namjoon liked to drink. He only ever had coffee in front of you.

Leaving the orange mug empty for now, you prepared yours with instant coffee, knowing that it wouldn’t impact your sleep. As the hot water poured into the mug, you rifled through the tea bags you had, fingers pausing on one labelled Chamomile. Luna tended to favor this one when it was an especially stressful night, claiming that it helped calm her down.

Namjoon’s cries echoed in your mind and the next thing you knew you were plopping the tea bag into his mug and pressing brew for the hot water to dispense. If he didn’t like it, there were plenty other teas for him to choose. Leaning back against the counter, you softly smiled as he walked into the kitchen, his footsteps silent against the hardwood floor.

He glanced at the Keurig behind you, eyebrows scrunching up as he tilted his head at the smell. You didn’t recall making this one since he’s moved in.

“It’s Chamomile,” you softly explained, watching as his feet shuffled closer to the table. “It’ll help you relax. I thought you might like that after your nightmare.”

The corner of his lip twitched and a faint smile became visible. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good right about now.”

Hearing the Keurig finish, you turned back around to retrieve his mug, grabbing him a spoon and the honey bottle as well. “You’re gonna wanna dunk the bag a couple times,” you suggested, placing it in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at the honey and you shrugged as you retrieved your coffee before sitting across from him. “I wasn’t sure if you liked it sweet or not.”

“Thank you,” taking the honey, he poured a small amount in and stirred, carefully avoiding hitting the sides of the mug. “I…I really appreciate all that you’re doing for me.”

“It’s not a problem. I know things haven’t been easy for you.”

“But you didn’t have to help me.” He spoke, holding his mug in both hands. “You didn’t have to offer up your guest room, or be patient with me and share your meals, but you did.” Licking his lips, he raised an eyebrow at you. “And you didn’t have to let me stay this long. The storm ended weeks ago and the Homeless Center isn’t as chaotic, but you haven’t even mentioned that.”

Your eyes widened, feeling caught in the act when he softly smiled before taking a sip out of his drink. “How?”

“Luna called while you were away at work on day. She was wondering why you hadn’t told me that I could go back.”

Damn technology, you thought, shrugging as you tried to hide your embarrassment by pulling your knees up on to the chair and to your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he softly asked. Lowering his mug, the spot between his eyebrows furrowed as he patiently waited. “Why didn’t you tell me to leave?”

A part of you wished you were able to play dumb and pull it off, to coyly act like you had no idea what he was talking about. Namjoon would know immediately though. His ability to pick up on your emotions hadn’t gone unnoticed in the time he’s lived with you.

The words escaped you for a moment, so you shrugged once as you tried to form the right thing to say. It only lasted a few seconds, because when you met his gaze, it flowed naturally. “I didn’t want you to leave,” you found yourself telling him, unable to say anything but the truth.

He blinked in surprise, leaning back in his seat as the silence took hold again. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. You didn’t mind it, figuring he was assessing your emotions to find the truth in what you said.

As he gathered his thoughts, you rubbed a hand across your eyes in an attempt to ease the headache from lack of caffeine.

“I told Luna it was better for that little Hybrid to be abandoned now because it’s true. It’s a shitty thing to experience when you can remember it.”

Tonight, was perhaps the most that you’ve heard Namjoon speak, and you were surprised with where he was directing his attention towards. Ideas swirled around with what he was talking about, about where this was going to lead, but you remained quiet as you focused on him, allowing him to speak at the pace he wanted to go at.

Namjoon ran his thumb around the rim of his mug, taking a deep breath. “I’ve lost track of all the owners I’ve had. There hadn’t been as many when I was younger, but as I grew up, grew bigger and taller, I got sent back to the Adoption Centers until one day, one of them got lazy and dropped me off at the Homeless Center. I was maybe, fifteen then.”

“Even with all the constant changes, I always knew I was a Hybrid. None of my owners ever let me forget that. They put me in small rooms, sometimes I didn’t even have a room but a closet or a mattress on the floor.” Lifting his gaze, he gestured around the kitchen with a bittersweet smile. “Everything in this room alone, to be able to have a cup of tea and not be afraid of the consequences, was once a dream for me. Still is sometimes.”

Shifting in your seat, you set your cup down on the table, having lost interest in the coffee that you usually loved. Because you were watching him, you were able to see his fingers tighten briefly.

“It was bad,” he simply said, not meeting your gaze this time. “There’d be days where I wasn’t allowed to eat, where I was expected to clean up after everyone and keep the house spotless and if I didn’t, well…sometimes not eat eating was better than their punishments. Almost forgot my own name with one owner. She only ever called me Hybrid.”

A rock settled inside your heart at what he was implying, and suddenly it made sense. The way he flinched at your touch, how you always had to encourage and reassure him that it was okay to eat and have more. Your eyes watered up and you bit down on your lower lip, unable to control the way your emotions seemed to fly around.

His ears flickered in your direction, finally looking at you again. He gave you a sad smile, leaning forward and shakily raised his hand, hesitating only once before running his thumb across your cheek. His touch was gentle but it only reinforced what you were thinking. How could anyone hurt someone as gentle as Namjoon?

“Don’t cry for me,” he whispered, doing it again to the other cheek. “It’s in the past, we can’t change what happened back then.”

Your bottom lip wobbled, leaning into his palm when he cupped your cheek, both drinks long forgotten as you closed your eyes, absorbing his touch. He wasn’t done with his story and for some reason, you knew that it wasn’t going to get any better.

“My last owner wasn’t any different. Like the rest of them, he felt like he was entitled because he had money to waste, and thought he was better because he was human and I was a Hybrid. But unlike them, he participated in the Underground.”

Frowning, you almost leaned back to get a better look at Namjoon, but when your cheek stated to slide out of his hand you stopped, choosing to stay in his touch. “The Underground?”

He gently tapped your cheek with his thumb, slowly nodding. “There’s the good part of it, and then there’s bad side. The good is mostly known for the music and art scene, but that’s not what most people think of. The Underground is mostly known for its bad side; the drugs, gambling, the Hybrid Mills and such, but everyone just calls it by one name since the lines blur together.” Namjoon shrugged, still rubbing your cheek as if to keep you calm. “One of the popular events are the fights, and as long as I was able to stand on my own two feet, he had me in them every night.”

You may not have known or understood what the Underground was, but with a little thinking it didn’t take long to understand what Namjoon meant.

“I was big and as a Wolf Hybrid, I had an advantage over some of the others. We…none of us wanted to fight, but if we didn’t, the consequences were worse than had we just lost.” Sighing, Namjoon lowered his hand from your face, his gaze falling to the floor once again as his shoulders slouched.

“My last fight had been against a kid, barely even eighteen and shaking. The crowd was screaming and whoever his owner was was threatening him…all I could do was stare at him, wondering who the hell I had become. For a split second I had considered it, it would have only taken one punch, and immediately I was disgusted with myself. The fact that I had even thought about it made me realize that I was no better than the human who owned me.”

You blinked as your mind resurfaced from the memory, pulling your fingers from the book cover as you stumbled backwards. Even now, there was still an ache when you thought about the life that Namjoon had been forced to live, the things he had to do to survive until he was able to escape. It had been a damn miracle that he ended up at the shelter that Luna worked at and she had called you when that storm came in.

Sighing, you plopped back down on the couch and turned the TV on, hoping to ind on a show that could manage to keep you awake for the next several hours.

Please Joonie, you thought, gently laying a hand on the Mate Mark that you treasured and wore with immense pride. A life with Namjoon was what you wanted, what you still wanted, but it was starting to feel like the two of you were heading in two different directions and all you wished for was to find the spot where things began to change. But you could only go so far, do so much, by yourself.

Please come home. Please.

#bts bookclub #btswriterscollective #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #kpopscape #bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan fanfiction #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #bts fan fiction #bts fanfic #bts namjoon x reader #bts namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon fic #namjoon #namjoon fluff #Namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts hybrid au #hybrid

[vindicatedvirgil]

soulmate september / day twenty-five: glowing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

Day Twenty-Five: At a certain age, an item representing your soulmate appears next to you. When you and your soulmate’s items come together for the first time they glow brightly.

Summary: Patton slowly finds his way towards his soulmates.

Ship: DLAMP 

word count: 1115

i uh… went a bit overboard with this one, i think.

@tsshipmonth2020​

---

Patton blinked down at the pile of things that had appeared next to him. There were four things he saw, and so he picked each one up gently, inspecting them with care and devotion. 

The first item he picked up was a tie; it had a galaxy print on it, and there was a tag sewn into the seam that said LC. Patton felt comfort from the tie, and smiled as he threw it around his neck. 

The second item he picked up was a Broadway Playbill. As he flipped through it, he noted the dog-eared pages, and eventually Patton held it close to his chest, a wave of confidence washing over him.

The third item was an eyeshadow palette. When he opened it he saw lots of purples and blacks, and wondered deeply about the soulmate that used these. Patton let his fingers graze alone the well-used black shadows, imagining brushing his fingers over the closed eyes of that soulmate.

The fourth and final item was a bottle of eczema cream. Patton’s first instinct was to worry about his soulmate, because now they were missing the cream that provided them comfort and relief. But Patton still smiled at the near-emptiness of the bottle, and even opened it to rub some on his hands.

Over the next few days, Patton realized that four of his items had gone. His childhood stuffed frog, Hoppy, was missing, and he hoped that whoever had received it got enjoyable cuddles from it. One of his many gray cardigans was gone from his closet, his favorite one, and he pouted when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to wear it again until he met the soulmate who received it. Patton’s glasses repair kit was also missing, which was unfortunate since he had been clumsy and needed to fix his glasses (he had to wear his old ones until he could go and buy a new kit). The last item that was missing was a mug he used frequently for hot chocolate; it had a cat on it and was large enough to include lots of marshmallows and whipped cream whenever he indulged himself in the hot drink. 

Whenever Patton went out, he placed the four items he received in his messenger bag; the leading theory behind your soulmate’s items was that the items would glow as you approached your soulmate. As such, many people, including Patton, invested in a clear-case backpack, so that if the items began to glow, you would know. He was lucky that his four items were fairly small; others were not always so lucky.

He met the owner of the tie first; he was walking home from one of his evening classes when he noticed a faint light behind him; he turned his head and only saw a dark blue glow coming from his backpack, so he rushed to get out the glowing item. It was the galaxy print tie; he held it tightly in his hands and looked around to see if there was any glowing around. He spotted a pale blue light a few hundred yards away, so approached it. A man was standing there, staring at the glasses repair kit in his hands.

“Oh! My glasses kit!” Patton chirped happily, bounding up to the man. “You must be LC!” The man looked at him through thick-framed glasses and nodded, then eyed the tie in Patton’s hands. “I’m Patton!”

“Logan,” the man said softly. “Do you also have three other items? I find it rather peculiar that we have a group of five soulmates.” Patton pursed his lips in thought, running his free hand through his curly hair.

“I think it’s great! More love and care to go around,” he said, giggling a bit, and Logan’s face lightened a bit as he smiled softly. “Can I buy you some hot cocoa?”

-

Logan and Patton quickly fell into a routine with their classes, but found that they were pulled together by a string of emotions. Logan hesitated at first, but Patton assured him that this was all meant to be; the two began dating, going on library dates and walks under the sunsets, their clear backpacks on tightly just in case another one of their soulmates showed up.

One night, they were walking through a park when they heard voices behind them; it almost sounded like arguing, and so the couple peered around the corner to see two men, who looked very much alike (bar one of them having a mustache), wrestling. Patton saw red glows coming from both his and Logan’s backpacks, and a clear backpack not far from the two men began to glow with both dark blue and a light blue. Patton pulled Logan closer, his excitement bubbling over. One of the men noticed the glows (the one without a mustache) and grabbed his bag excitedly.

He pulled out the item glowing with dark blue first, and Patton recalled Logan telling him that one of his favorite science books was one of the items he had lost. Then the man pulled out Patton’s mug.

“It’s you! You’re one of them!” Patton exclaimed happily. “I’m Patton and this is Logan!” The man beamed brightly at them, dropping all of the things in his arms to instead gather the couple with glasses into them.

“Two down, two to go, my gorgeous soulmates!” The man boomed theatrically. “My name is Roman.”

-

Roman fit into the mix quite easily after that. He was much more affectionate than Logan, so he and Patton would often cuddle, though the three of them still took walks in the evenings, Patton between the other two, swinging their hands as if they were children. 

It took a few more years for them to find the final two pieces of their puzzle. The trio was sitting in a coffee shop one day when their backpacks began to glow with both a purple and a yellow light; they glanced up to see two men, startled looks on their faces. Patton noticed that the shorter man with the dark eyeshadow was holding a frog stuffed animal close to him, and the other was wearing his favorite gray cardigan.

Later, Janus would offer Patton his sweater back; but Patton let him keep it, hoping the soft fabric would be kind to Janus’ eczema. Virgil let Patton keep the eyeshadow palette, promising to teach Patton how to do makeup, if he so liked.

The five settled into their lives together, a big house with the biggest bed they could find; each night they’d pile onto it, exchanging kisses and soft words and gentle snuggles. They worked hard, took care of each other, and were happy.

#tsshipmonth2020 #amanda writes sanders sides fic #amanda's soulmate september drabbles #drabble #sanders sides fic #soulmate september #soulmate au #ts soulmate au #sanders sides soulmate au #ts dlamp #dlamp #ts patton #patton sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts janus #janus sanders

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Love the story but will we ever know why Jamie was in prison? Ten years is a very long time so it must have been serious yet everyone is so forgiving, so understanding and very accepting of a man who was incarcerated for such a long time. I’m not sure I could trust him so quickly.

anonymous asked: Still wondering, why was Jamie in prison? Long sentence must mean serious crime. Just curious.

—

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14

Claire reached across the table to squeeze her husband’s hand. “I’ll wash up. You two - why don’t you sit on the back porch? It’s so nice outside - we haven’t really taken advantage of it yet.”

Brianna raised a ruddy eyebrow at her father. “Do you still have that bottle of Oban I gave you as a housewarming gift?”

Jamie snorted. “Of course, lass - did ye think yer mam and I had drank the whole thing already? It’s just been the two months!”

“You’ve gotten so much done already - how was I supposed to know?” Brianna pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll get us set up. See you there?”

As his daughter breezed by, Jamie stood and gathered the three dinner plates. Claire’s hand gently touched his elbow, and he looked over at her.

Smiling. Always smiling.

“Go. Use the nice tumblers. Something’s eating at her - maybe you can find out what it is?”

He leaned over for a kiss. “I’ll just listen. I’m good at that, aye?”

She kissed him again. “Aye. Now go.”

He found Brianna curled up on one side of the bench he’d set up at the corner of the porch. Watching the late summer sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

She looked up at him, and gratefully took the tumbler of whisky as he sat beside her. “It is. You two really lucked out with this place.”

Softly he clinked his glass against hers. “I’ve really lucked out wi’ a lot of things this past year, Brianna. Had ye told me a year ago that I’d be here, wi’ you - marrit to yer Mam, and stateside, weel...”

“Do you miss it?” She swirled the whisky, inhaling deeply.

“What? My empty life in Glasgow, and the blokes I unloaded trucks with?”

She pursed her lips. Not looking at him.

Patiently he waited.

“I’ve thought long and hard about the best way to ask you this - but there’s not a good way, and there will never be a good time.” She sighed.

He stiffened. “What is it you wish to know?”

She took a sip of the Oban. “Why were you in prison? Ten years is a really long time.”

He knew this day would come, of course. He had told Claire everything, their first night back together, in her old bedroom at Lamb and Fez’s home. Prepared for criticism...he had experienced only understanding, and forgiveness.

He sighed.

“Aggravated larceny.”

“Ten years for that?”

“I was twenty-four years old. Had lost your Mam, and both of my parents. I was very, very angry, Brianna.” He sipped his whisky, watching the sun sink behind the trees. “I fell in wi’ a very rough crowd. Burglars. Mostly petty things. But this one man, he kept talking about a ‘big score.’“

“Me and two other men, we broke into a warehouse. The two of them meant to re-sell the stolen goods - I was just along for the ride.” He pursed his lips. “Vitamin supplements. Very easy to re-sell. We just didn’t count on there being a security guard there.”

Brianna sat as stiff and still as a board beside him.

“I tied him up as the others made off with boxes and boxes of vitamins.  We had another man driving the get-away truck. I had a gun, but the guard knew I wouldnae hurt him.”

The man hadn’t even been scared. Had stared him down. Challenging.

“The plan was that I’d be the first back to the truck - to sit up front with the driver. And the two others would follow - pack up the truck and sit wi’ the merchandise in the back. All went according to plan. We were in and out in less than an hour.”

“How did you get caught?”

“Charles Stuart always was an idiot. And that night proved it - because on the way out, he hit the guard very hard in the back of his head. The man nearly died, but he called for help. We didnae even make it to the drop-off point before we were arrested.”

“Ten years sounds like a harsh sentence for vitamins. Especially when you didn’t actually steal anything.”

Jamie shrugged. “The lads made off with several hundred thousand pounds worth of vitamins. The value of that brought the charge up to ‘aggravated.’ And then they nearly killed the security guard.”

“But you didn’t do any of that.”

“But I was there, Brianna. I helped them commit the crime. And I had already been arrested a few times - so they went harsh on me.”

She nodded. Processing. 

“I’m not ashamed of you, you know. Knowing this about you - it doesn’t change anything.”

He set down his tumbler and tentatively reached across the bench to squeeze her hand. “Ye have no idea how much it means to me, to hear you say that. It’s all in the past - I’m no’ that man anymore. It proves that I wasnae fit to raise you as a wee bairn, even if you and yer Mam had been in Scotland.” He turned to face her, eyes blazing. “It may sound strange, but prison changed my life for the better. It gave me the strength to stand up for myself, and to never allow myself to ever get wrapped up in other people’s problems anymore.”

She squeezed his hand in return. “I know. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. It gave you the courage to respond to my letter, didn’t it?”

He nodded. “I wish, so much, that you and me and your Mam could have been together all of these years. But I wasnae ready to be a da. Not then. But I am now, Brianna. I owe that to you.”

She blinked back tears. “You don’t owe me anything. Ever. And thank you for telling me.”

“Well, you asked,” he teased. “Claire and I - we promised honesty to each other, always. I vow the same to you.”

“Then let me tell you something honest, and true. I’m proud you’re my father.”

His tears shone in the twilight, and he crushed her to him. So grateful for second chances.

#Anonymous #;mod gotham #adoption au

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Actual smut (strip tease, heavy foreplay, fingering, hand job, body worship, pre-cum), allusion to kidnapping

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 4,315

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

AN: So...this is the beginning of the end. To everyone who has faithfully followed this series from the start, I thank you. I appreciate you. It’s about to be a very bumpy ride. I’m going to go ahead and apologize in advance. I’m sorry for the hurt and pain that is coming. Please stay with me  until the end.

Chapter 48: Home

“We won’t talk but we’ll be comfortable. If only I have you, it’ll be my home.“

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Hwaseong – Gyeonggi Province South Korea

Eden smiled as she felt Jungkook wrap his heavier coat around her shoulders. Children raced past them, squealing in delight as they chased each other. One child barreled into her back, causing her to stumble forward a little. Jungkook cuffed the little boy on his head and Eden tugged at Jungkook’s ear to get him to stop. The little boy sniffled, apologizing, and Eden gave him a few bills so he could buy some snacks with his friends. Jungkook smirked, watching the little boy blush as he looked at her, bowed, and then scrambled off to be with his friends.

“You’re too easy on them,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “They’re just kids. Let them be kids.” Eden paused as they reached the corner of the street. “They should have that luxury, don’t you think?”

When she looked up at Jungkook, something flickered across his gaze. His brows furrowed and she immediately regretted saying what she had. Her intention hadn’t been to make him feel guilty, but he still did. Old memories were dredged up, something that they talked about in length once when they were up late watching Korean gangster movies while sharing a bottle of whiskey. They both never really got to be kids; the world forced them to grow up and deal with the adult world before they physically became adults.

It wasn’t a life either of them chose for themselves, but it wasn’t a life they regretted either. It made them who they were now. It was the life that led them to each other.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” she said softly, “I shouldn’t have said that…”

He shook his head roughly from side to side, taking her arm and looping it through his. “No, you’re right. They should be able to run and play and rough around like they want while they can.”

She smiled, relieved to know that he felt the same way she did.

They continued down the path, passing various street stalls that sold food, clothes, and other trinkets. It was Spring and Summer would soon be approaching. Flowers were blooming and green returned to the once barren trees that lined the streets. The air was starting to warm up, but there was still that little bit of chill in the air that swept through and touched the marrow of bones.

Most women would have found coming to a back end province like Hwaseong deplorable – especially for a honeymoon getaway. But Eden insisted that this was the place she wanted to spend time with her husband – the place where he sealed away all his childhood memories; where his dreams first began.

The place where he called home.

Hwaseong was rural in most aspects, but there were industrial districts. She preferred the softer sides of his hometown, the places where all the rolling hills and lush forests flourished. It was peaceful, quiet, and a place where she could gather her thoughts. Jungkook pointed out the places that meant the most to him and she made mental notes of them; filing them away to be explored in depth later.

One by one, he went by all the places that his brothers called home. Some of their family members came out to greet them and Jungkook simply introduced Eden as his girlfriend. She didn’t mind, seeing as how they were both wearing their wedding bands as necklaces. But just for now. Eden agreed that it was better if they kept their marriage a secret, especially since tensions between the Jade Fangs and the former Golden Jackals had the potential to escalate. It was the safer and smarter way to go about things. Jimin was the only one who knew and they would keep it that way until everything finally settled down.

As each day passed, she was able to see the lake where he first met the others – the ones he called his brothers. They were all children back then, playing around the Han River in their underwear and throwing rocks at the lake while fishing. He took her to the orphanage that cared for him until he was old enough to get a job and go to school. As painful as it must have been, Jungkook even showed her the home he used to live in with his parents before they threw him away. A different family lived there now.

Everything was a precious memory, good and bad, and Eden tucked them away without judgment.

They returned to the hotel, deciding to order takeout and have it brought to their room. Lavish as their lodgings were, it seemed a bit silly, seeing as how Hwaseong became a bit of a tourist trap in recent years. It gave the community a chance to build something expansive and eye-catching, grabbing at the ankles of wealthy tourists to come and spend their money on pricey hotel suites and cheap souvenirs boasting ancient history in the inner square’s markets.

But it was the little things that counted.

After they finished eating, Eden began washing dishes in the sink of the suite’s kitchen. As she placed a few on the drying rack, she felt Jungkook approach her from behind. He slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she continued to work. She smiled when he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and she wiggled a little, his fringe tickling her cheek.

“Let’s go back to Seoul tomorrow,” he said suddenly, lacing his fingers together across her stomach.

She rinsed off a plate, intent on focusing on the task at hand. “Why? I thought we were staying here for a few more days?” Eden pouted, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Are we cutting the honeymoon short?”

She understood if it needed to be done. Sometimes work couldn’t be avoided. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Jungkook laughed, pressing his mouth to her temple. “No, we’re not.” He reached up to brush some of her hair behind her ear. “I actually have another surprise for you.”

“You and your surprises,” Eden muttered, unable to hide the tiny smirk that appeared.

“Trust me,” he whispered, “you’ll love it.”

Seoul – Itaewon; Yongsan District South Korea

“Uh, Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“What is this?”

“What is what?”

Eden turned to look at Jungkook, seeing the look of pride all but explode over his face. He was practically beaming and he took a moment to meet her gaze. Eden blinked up at him, then craned her neck to look back at the large house surrounded by a thicket of private trees. There was a small stairwell that led up to the front door, a small awning perched from the siding of the slate walls. A large front deck wrapped around the house, a two-story home that boasted modern features with a hint of traditional landscaping.

She pointed to the house – her finger aimed at the large window on the second floor.

“This,” she said again, “what is this?”

“A house,” he said, amusement laced through his words, “our house.”

Whipping her head to look at him. She could see no trace of a lie or even a tease. “Excuse me, what?”

Laughing, Jungkook grabbed her by the hand and tugged her along – pulling her up the short set of steps while rustling around for a set of keys. Slipping it into the door, he twisted the key and ushered her inside. Eden was only barely able to get her shoes off as he helped her into a pair of house slippers.

“I’ll get an electronic lock installed later. I just couldn’t wait to show this to you.”

She had no words. Even if she had, Eden was positive they would have tumbled to the floor in a meaningless collection of jargon she wouldn’t have been able to understand. Everything was brand new. The floor was made of polished hardwood, the furniture sleek and modern. Only the throw pillows were unfashionable as they sported various characters from anime that Eden liked – a large Princess Mononoke throw blanket draped across the back of the large couch in the living room.

Eden took a few steps forward, her eyes darting in every direction to take everything in. The kitchen was large, sporting a marble island with stools around it. Large windows allowed for natural light to flood the rooms, showing off the view of the front and side gardens. A huge flat screen television decorated the wall near an ornate entertainment center – a fireplace nestled in the corner with freshly cut logs near the hearth to be used during the colder months.

Turning to look at Jungkook, she didn’t have time to speak before he was already scooping her into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

“We can explore the rest of the house tonight,” he said, leaning in to press his lips along the shell of her ear, “but there’s one place I want us to go.”

Eden felt her cheeks getting warmer. She knew the look in his eyes and understood what his intentions were. So it didn’t come as a surprise to her when he pushed open a door with his shoulder to reveal a large master bedroom. Without wasting a moment more, Jungkook set her down so her feet hit the floor, his lips moving to capture hers in a heated kiss. She moaned unconsciously into his mouth, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders as he hurriedly popped the buttons of her jeans loose.

His large hands moved to all but tear the hoodie from her, pulling it up and over her head so that it landed on the floor without a second glance. She tried to say something – anything – but the words were lost as he kissed her; his tongue slipping in between her lips to brush along her canines. Eden took a step back, her calf hitting the edge of the bed and she nearly stumbled backwards. Jungkook caught her by the waist, his hands warm against her skin. His fingers pressed into her waist, curling into the waistband of her jeans and she felt her breath hitch when he knocked his hips against hers. She could feel his erection through his pants, and she squeezed her thighs together a little bit tighter – attempting to get friction where she needed it most.

Jungkook’s kiss grew a bit more feverish, a hand moving from her waist to trail up her exposed back. Eden felt her skin pepper out in goosebumps – chasing the path that his hand made along her skin. Pausing to rest at the nape of her neck, Eden can’t help the sigh that managed to escape – lost in the cavern of his mouth. She tilted her head slightly, trying to get at his mouth at a better angle. But he chose that moment to break the kiss, trailing his mouth along the column of her neck. She felt his body almost vibrate as she reached out to pull at his shirt, yanking it free from his pants.

She felt his hand moving from the back of her neck, his fingers slowly clambering up to thread through her hair. His other hand was still at her hip and she could feel him tracing small circles around her skin before dipping below the waistband of her panties. Eden gasped softly as the sound of her zipper sliding down seemed to ricochet off the walls.

Jungkook broke the kiss again, moving a step back so he could slowly sink to the floor to his knees while taking her pants with him. He urged her to step out of them completely when they were bunched around her ankles and she complied, her legs trembling when he pressed his lips along her inner thigh. A hand slid down to the crown of his head, carding through his hair. Delicate hands moved to caress along her skin, finally smoothing over the curves of her thighs and then gripping onto her panties. He dragged them down, his lips giving chase to the material as he let it fall to her ankles.

Without having to be told, Eden stepped out of them as well.

Clad in just her bra, she felt overly exposed in a way that felt a little embarrassing. It was still broad daylight and Jungkook was being shamelessly intimate. The curtains weren’t drawn over the windows and while she knew the home was nestled in their own private sanctuary, Eden felt like someone was watching her; like they were being watched. It was a weird kink that she never believed she could properly give a voice to, but Jungkook indulged her whenever he could.

Licking a trail up her body, he paused just long enough to press his lips atop the swell of her breasts. He reached behind her, unhooking her bra and she let it fall to the ground. It, too, would be forgotten until it was deemed fit to be remembered.

Eden pouted as he smiled down at her, his eyes full of dark arousal. She could tell he was holding himself back a measure and she lightly smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand. His eyes crinkled in the corners, his gaze softening as he looked back at her.

“I’m the only one naked,” she murmured, “no fair.”

Reaching out to grasp one of her hands, he moved so that it now rested along the center of his chest. She could feel the heavy thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm and he quirked a brow at her. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask her.

“Then make it fair,” he replied, his voice low and raspy.

Eden couldn’t keep the look of surprise and amusement from dancing over her face. She bit her lower lip, her hands moving to undo each button before shoving the material back and off his shoulders. He shrugged out of the shirt, shaking his hands so he was free of the material. Eden immediately went to his belt, pulling the leather through the loops of his jeans and then dropping it to the floor.

She could admit she wasn’t nearly as patient as her husband and he laughed, watching her popping the button of his jeans loose while frantically pulling at the zipper. His hands moved to still over hers and he lifted her easily off the floor. Eden wriggled when she felt him kissing her stomach, laughing as he tossed her onto the bed.

She cooed softly as he slid out of his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. His shaft twitched in response to him drinking her in. She could see his pupils dilating as he climbed over her like a predator about to devour his prey. His hands slid between her thighs to press along her folds, feeling the slickness that escaped from how heavy her own arousal was. Moaning at his touch, Eden tried to move away from him, but he wouldn’t give her any quarter. Instead, he lowered his head to capture an exposed nipple between his lips.

Pleasure exploded over her skin and she nearly bucked from his finger pressing against the sensitive nub between her legs. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles around it before dipping into her slit to caress at her inner walls. In the haze of her lust, she could see the milky white fluid beading at the slit of his tip. She wanted to taste it but her selfish desire was knocked clean from her mind when he slid another finger into her.

Her hips lifted, pushing his digits further inside of her. Jungkook moved his face to lavish affection to the other nipple. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his thumb continuing to rub circles over her clit. Electric shocks exploded behind her eyes and he lifted his face to catch her mouth in an open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on her tongue, Eden closed her eyes and moaned – unsure how much longer she was going to be able to handle this assault against her entire person.

As if he’d read her mind, Jungkook removed his fingers from her folds. Eden whined, shocked at her internal outrage to being deprived of her own pleasure. She watched Jungkook using her juices to coat his erection, his hand slowly stroking over himself. He gripped the base of the shaft and she felt herself getting wetter just watching him. After a moment of this, he straddled her hips – positioning himself as he pressed the tip of his erection against her clit. Again, she hissed in pleasure, feeling her walls growing more and more slick as he teased her folds.

“My god,” Jungkook whispered, “you’re beautiful.”

“Jungkook-ah…”

“You’re my wife.” He smiled down at her. “How did I get so lucky?”

Eden felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She laughed softly, not caring that they leaked out and into her ears. Jungkook leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth, his lips moving along the curve of her jaw until he caressed the lobe of her ear.

“I love you,” he said softly, pressing the head of his erection into her entrance. She sucked in air between her teeth as he inched forward a little bit more. “I love you so much, Eden.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer. “I love you too, Jungkook.”

As if those were the words he’d been waiting for, he pushed himself forward completely – filling her insides. Her walls clamped down around him instinctively, holding him in place. As he pushed and pulled against her, the friction created was almost jarring. The pace was slow at first, but it didn’t take Jungkook long to speed things up. Eden rocked her hips against his, rising to meet his as he came down along her. There were wet, sloppy sounds of skin slapping against skin and it didn’t take long for their sweat-soaked skin to glide over each other with each hurried pulse of their movements.

And then he hit that spot; the spot that drove her half-mad. The spot that almost always left her fucked out of her head. Eden dug her nails into his skin, leaving half-moon marks along his muscles. She dragged her fingers down, red angry trails chasing after her fingernails before she clamped onto his forearms. He was practically jack-hammering into her, reaching his own favored spot, until she was seeing stars from the orgasm that began to overtake her. Her voice started off low until it soon escalated to a scream; one that she was almost positive rattled the windows. Jungkook wasn’t far behind her, her name bellowing from his lungs.

Heat filled her core, spreading over her entire body. She felt Jungkook shift his body slightly, collapsing beside her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, still buried inside of her, and pulled her close so that she was nestled perfectly against his form. He whispered words of love into her ear and Eden was barely conscious enough to hear them. But not before she was able to tell him that she loved him back.

They’d made a mess over their brand-new bed; their new bedding.

Neither of them cared.

Five Months Later

“I’m proud of you, y’know that?”

Eden smiled while rolling her eyes at the phone situated on the nightstand. Raelyn smirked back at her on the screen. They’d been Face Timing each other since Jungkook left for work in the morning. He had a few errands to run and she was leaving the shop in Minki’s hands. Eden folded a few more items on the bed, organizing them, and then placed the clothes into the small suitcase.

“I’m serious. This is pretty gutsy of you and I’m glad you’re doin’ it.”

After she threw the small plastic bag of toiletries on top of the clothes, she moved to sit on the bed. She picked up the phone and flopped back onto the bed.

“I know,” she said with a sigh, “I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t be. I mean, do be, but don’t let that shake you up.” She watched Raelyn’s brows furrow. “They know you’re comin’, right? You’re not just showing up unannounced?”

Again, Eden rolled her eyes. “Yes, they know I’m coming.”

Raelyn held a hand up. “Look, I’m just makin’ sure, alright?” She paused and Eden lofted a brow. “I’m a little surprised they agreed to this.”

She scoffed, clambering off the bed. “Like they have a choice. From what I was able to find out, I’m the only child my mother ever had before she died. I’m sure they’re just as curious about me as I am about them.”

She still didn’t know why she was doing this. Part of her wanted to call the whole thing off. It wasn’t like things were going to change by doing this. Seeing her mother’s family, the people who treated her like the black sheep of their bloodline, only angered Eden. But she also knew that she couldn’t abandon them. Not until she really got to see them for who they truly were. After that, she would make her decision on whether to continue having them circulating around her life.

“Well, when you get there, you show them exactly who the hell you are and that you ain’t playin’ any games.”

Eden couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I think you should be more worried about that little troublemaker growing inside of you, don’t you?”

“Girl, don’t get me started,” Raelyn said, the bitter tone evident in her voice, “between Anastasia’s mood swings and Taehyung being my damn shadow, I don’t have time to get into anything stupid.”

She closed the suitcase and secured the locks, picking it up and unlatching the extended handle. Eden made her way out of the bedroom and headed downstairs, the suitcase rolling behind her as she continued to hold the phone up in front of her.

“Good,” she said once she made it to the ground floor, “because I don’t need to be working my nerves while I’m on this trip. They’re frayed as it is.”

This time Raelyn scoffed. “You’ll be fine. Is Jungkook takin’ you to the train station?”

“No. He’s busy with work and I told him not to worry about it.”

“Three days, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though depending on how the trip goes, I may come back early.”

“I heard Daegu is beautiful this time of year. Make sure you take a lot of pictures.”

“I will, I will,” Eden reassured. She opened the front door and closed it behind her, the electronic lock beeping to let her know it was secured. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Hanging up the call, she pulled up her messages. She shot Jungkook a quick text to let him know she was heading to the train station. Eden knew he was busy at the recording studio and didn’t want to interrupt him while he worked.

Jungkook: Be safe. Call me as soon as you’ve arrived. I love you.

Smiling, she sent him a heart emoji. She was never a big fan of texting and he knew that about her. He never nagged her about it. Eden was a woman who believed that actions spoke louder than words. She’d always been this way. She was thankful that Jungkook understood and accepted this – always willing to meet her halfway.

He sent her two heart emojis back.

Making her way toward the front gate, Eden pushed it open and pulled her suitcase behind her. She turned to close the gate, tugging at the bars to make sure the latch caught properly. Checking her watch, she saw she had plenty of time to get to the train station.

Maybe I should call him anyway, she thought, moving to head down the long walkway leading from the house.

Eden managed to take a few steps forward before someone stepped in front of her. The heels of her sneakers scuffed along the ground as she stopped, lifting her head to see who was blocking her path. He looked a little familiar, but she wasn’t quite sure from where. Blinking a few times, she watched the other man’s small smile growing little by little.

She didn’t have time for this. Maybe she was mistaken.

“Excuse me,” she said through clenched teeth, moving so she could side-step him. He shifted to resume blocking her path. Eden shot him a glare. “Move.”

“You’re still as feisty as ever, I see,” he said. She said nothing, narrowing her eyes. “I know it’s been awhile, but I’m a little hurt you don’t remember me.”

“Should I?”

The man lifted his hand in the air, miming holding a shot glass. He made a motion to show he was tipping the glass back into his mouth. Eden scrutinized him a moment longer and he merely continued to smile.

And then it hit her.

“You,” she growled, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Yoo Kihyun.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo.”

Eden reached into her pocket. “What do you want?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?” When his eyes met hers, they were dark and cold. It caused Eden to hesitate for just a moment. “It’s you.”

That moment of hesitation was her undoing. She failed to notice the look of triumph painted over his face. She’d missed the sound of movement behind her. And before she could register that she was being ambushed, Eden felt a sharp prick to the back of her neck. 

It didn’t take long. If given the chance, she would have only been able to count to five.

Five seconds before the world went dark.

#networkbangtan #btsbookclub #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #kpop fanfic #kpop fiction #kpop fanfiction #bts angst #bts ot7 #bts romance #bts mafia au #bts mafia!au #bts mafia #bts crime au #bts crime!au #bts slow burn #bts slowburn #thebiasrekkers #bts thebiasrekkers #thebiasrekkers bts #make it right #bts make it right #make it right bts

[miaouerie]

whumptober 2020 ------ day 25. blurred vision/ringing ears

@whumptober2020​ Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: graphic descriptions of minor character death, references to forced prostitution

previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24

Candela is the first to get killed; her escape to the tree line was hampered by the uphill climb to get out of the rocky ditch that the 67th Hunger Games’ Cornucopia is in. The male Career tribute from District 1 kills her with a sledgehammer to the throat. Cassian watches her head snap all the way to the right, the neck bent at an unnatural angle, and her body hits the ground, motionless; it was a clean break to the neck.

Garrick made it a while longer on his own, but chose not to heed Cassian’s repeatedly stressed advice to skip over supplies—those could always be sent later—and made his escape route include a wide arc towards a backpack and a sleeping bag. Those extra seconds put him in the scope of a pair of Careers, who run him down easily and then kill him with their knives.

Both of his tributes dead in the first five minutes of the 67th Hunger Games. How could this happen?

He had weighed their odds carefully. District 5 fell squarely in between the Career districts and the poorer districts when it came to anticipating the Games. The district itself was well off enough that tesserae wasn’t necessary for the majority of households, which meant that the extent of the Games in the populace’s mind was a hope and a prayer for their children to not be chosen on Reaping Day. No Games training was offered for the glory of volunteering because no glory was seen in the practice—District 5 had the lowest volunteer rate out of all the districts—and so it wasn’t a surprise that Cassian’s first year of mentoring began with two unremarkable tributes: Candela Invers, a fifteen-year-old girl, and Garrick Thule, a sixteen-year-old boy.

Garrick was the son of a power plant supervisor and had hardly an inkling for survival; he didn’t go to the fire-starting station or the edible plants station, or any of the other stations for basic survival skills that Cassian urged him to. A lot of his time during the three allotted training days was spent away from the other tributes, hiding his fear behind an indifferent look; unsurprisingly, he scored only a 3 in the evaluation. Candela on the other hand had been game enough to ask for Cassian's advice in the training room and went over strategies with him for acing her interview; just last night on Caesar Flickerman’s show she had made a favorable impression on the audience, especially after Caesar brought up the 7 that she scored in the Gamemakers’ evaluations. Cassian could work with that; if she could survive on her own for the first three days, he could hopefully start talking her up to potential sponsors. He wasn’t going to bet on whether or not Garrick could survive that long on his own, but in the end it didn’t even matter because now both of his tributes are dead.

He can’t take his eyes off the carnage of the bloodbath, projected on the main screen of the mentors’ observation deck. It takes several long minutes before he yanks off his headset; the only sounds the mics were picking up is the ambient noise of children killing other children. But it’s too late; the sounds won’t leave his ears; it coalesces into screaming that he knows isn’t real, but it sounds more and more similar to Teak’s—

He pushes himself away from the console and tries to stand up, but has to lean his weight against it when his legs threaten to give out from underneath him. The room is starting to spin in a way that has everything to do with the roar of blood and screams in his ears, how lightheaded he feels, and… shit. He needs to sit back down.

Then there’s a hand on his shoulder, pushing him firmly but gently back down onto his chair. “Both of yours bit the dust? First time’s rough; it doesn’t get any easier.”

The sole victor and mentor of District 12, Haymitch Abernathy, is holding out a bottle of liquor to him. Still breathing heavily, Cassian shakes his head no; they both look back to the broadcast on the main screen. The camera is panning a bird’s-eye view over the action at the Cornucopia, before cutting over to where the two Careers from District 1 who killed Garrick are cutting down another tribute. The tally on the screen reads nine dead, fifteen tributes still in play.  The Career pack hasn’t yet started to hunt for tributes who escaped to the trees, which means it’s still likely a death or three will be added to the projected death count at the end of the day. But as far as where Cassian is concerned, his first stint as a mentor in the Hunger Games is over.

Cassian thinks about reaching for the proffered bottle, but decides against it. Haymitch is an alcoholic, foul-smelling and drunk more often than not. Jeron always told his son to stay away from him, but Jeron isn’t here anymore. His heartbeat feels like it stops as it does each time the realization washes over him anew—your father’s dead, while you didn’t kill him you might as well have—but after that split second of grief he’s able to breathe again.

“C’mon. Let’s get some fresh air, you look like you could use it.” The look that Haymitch is giving him is half-pointed, half-pitying; Cassian gets up to go with him.

-

Cassian has never been to the top floor of the Tower; he didn’t even know that such a place existed. The tinkling of the windchimes drowns out the ringing in his ears, until he can blink up at the noonday sun without his vision doubling over.

“It’s a shame about your old man,” Haymitch says to him. “Power explosion, right?”

The younger victor can’t trust himself to speak, so he nods.

“Took out Irga too? Seems a little convenient to me.”

Cassian wants to say, I know the truth, I read it myself. But he doesn’t; what comes out instead is, “Yeah, that’s why I’m mentoring alone. Apparently I’m not very good at it.”

The look that Haymitch gives him has a flash of disappointment, but then it disappears as the older victor takes a swig of his booze and grunts. “Look, it doesn’t matter if you’re a good mentor or not, whether your tributes die or not. The Capitol gets their twisted entertainment regardless.”

“So we should just let them die?”

The older victor snorts. “I’m surprised you think it’s worth letting them live. You of all people should know being a victor doesn’t mean you won.”

Well, he can’t say anything to that. They look up to see an Avox approaching; apparently, to hand Cassian a powder blue envelope.

Cassian turns the envelope over in his hands but doesn’t break the seal yet. What happened to attractive and desirable victors was an open secret but the confirmation that Haymitch knew still stings; it made him wonder just how many of the other victors had known, if any of them talked to his father about it.  

Haymitch juts his chin out at the envelope. “Snow’s had his claws in you for a long time hasn’t he, kid? I’m not surprised if District 5 got taken out because our dear president thinks you shouldn’t be spending your precious time in the Capitol mentoring.”

But no; Jeron couldn’t have known, Cassian was too good of a liar. But his self-loathing wrestles briefly with the fear that maybe Jeron knew after all, even before his disastrous Decem year.

But no, he couldn’t have. He would have done something about it sooner, he wouldn’t have let Snow turn his son into a whore. Right?

But he knows it wouldn't have changed anything, let alone the fatal outcome. There was no other way to impel Cassian into a mentoring position, not when Snow wanted him to solicit for a more lucrative purpose. Jeron couldn’t have known that Snow would kill his mentoring partner to devastate his son in retaliation; while Lila was allowed to live and he wouldn't have had Cassian killed, there wasn’t a way a victor could act without consequence.

Cassian opens the envelope, looks at the three lines: a name, a place, a time. He thinks about the system that drove his dad to believe that suicide was the only option, that forced him to play into the Capitol’s hand to save his son, then made him realize that in the end he couldn’t protect him at all.

#whumptober2020 #no.25 #blurred vision #ringing ears #rogue one #the hunger games #fic #sacchi writes #cassian andor #haymitch abernathy #word count: 1.4k #also gomen if you saw the version of this that i forgot to edit out a placeholder 🤧

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 50

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45 || CHAPTER 46 || CHAPTER 47 || CHAPTER 48 || CHAPTER 49

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -3.9k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- note for this chapter: sooo im sorry. forgive me. the worst is to come. :X

no request for this chapter: SEND ME SOME ASAP SO I CAN ADD THEM I NEED THEM! can be ideas that will make things bad between them too. or good. or fluff. or smut. just send me a few :)

Chapter 50 : His chapter

NIALL

I heard her wake up all night and every single time, I waited until she was asleep again to do the same. She was not sick often, except for migraines, but this time, it was bad enough for her to beg me to stay with her the next day. She turned around in bed and wrapped one of her arms around my waist, making me smile as she groaned.

"Please don't leave me alone here all day."

I brought my hand to her face, caressing her cheek gently before pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You want me to stay here with you and watch you snore all day?" I joked, smiling more when I saw her nose raise up in a grimace.

"Yes." she let out firmly with a baby voice, making me chuckle this time.

"You're such a child, I swear!"

I felt her grip tighten around my waist and I rolled my eyes with a smile. I had no idea why but I actually enjoyed the fact that she needed me so bad. Our relationship was just getting better and I didn't want things to change. She was still insecure and I was still not totally good at not making her jealous but we managed and we were both making efforts, which was the best we could expect from each other.

I never thought it would be so tough to date my best friend. I didn't regret it, but I was still unsure of so many things that sometimes, I ended up backing away from her and hurting her. That's when she'd become even more insecure and we would just end up being trapped in a vicious circle. The fact that I was so busy was an obstacle to our relationship too. Every free moment I had, I would spend with her and I couldn't hide the fact that I missed hanging out with my friends, spending a day playing golf or just having some time for myself.

"Please, Nee."

"You're warm... you clearly have fever." I pointed out, pressing my palm on her cheek. "You need to get in the shower, darling. Stay under the lukewarm stream for about minute and come back in bed.”

"Mm no, it's too cold."

"You may feel cold but you're burning." I explained. "Come on, do that and i'll make you some tea."

"And stay here today?"

Her eyes were now half opened and she was looking up at me through her eyelashes. She was pretty and endearing and it brought an other smile to my lips.

"And stay here today."

Her lips curled and I bent down to kiss the top of her head before pulling the covers away from her. She groaned but finally let go of me to get up slowly. She took her shirt off, her back facing me, and I stared at her as she did the same with her panties. I knew she was sick but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view.

"Hurry up." I said, smacking her bum playfully and making her jump a bit.

"Be nice! I'm siiiick!" she complained again before walking to the bathroom.

When I heard the shower, I got up but stopped myself and sighed, picking up her dirty clothes and throwing them in the laundry basket. I searched through my things and put one of my shirts on the bed along with a pair of boxers and finally walked out of the room to reach the kitchen.

As I waited for the water to boil, I grabbed my phone and sent a text message saying I was taking a day off and just turned it off to be sure not to be disturbed. I walked upstairs with her tea and put it on the bedside table right before going to the bathroom. I rolled my eyes when I saw her soaked towel laying on the floor and cleaned the shower a bit before doing the same with the sink.

"You left your towel on the floor, Liv. Again." I complained before realizing she was already asleep.

I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing she was sick and it was wrong of me to be mad for that, but it was not only on that day, it was all the time. I never thought it would be so tough for someone as clean as me to live with someone as messy as she was. Sometimes, it was driving me insane.

I let her sleep for a while and ate toasts and eggs for breakfast before washing the dishes and going to sit on the couch to watch the golf channel. Staying home got me slightly bored and after a while, I grabbed my notebook and started scribbling a few words, feeling suddenly inspired for a new song. I didn't know how much time passed since I was concentrated on my writing but she finally appeared from the hall. Her hair was a mess and she was yawning but despite all this, my lips curled at her sight.

"Come here, are you hungry?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She walked up to me, her feet brushing against the carpet, and let herself fall on the couch next to me. As soon as her ass hit the couch, she cuddled me, curling up against me, her leg over my thigh and her head leaning on my shoulder.

"Have you ever heard of personal space?" I joked with a chuckle.

"I'm part of your personal space, Horan."

I laughed at her words, knowing she was going say those exact words since it's always what she answered me. I liked the degree of intimacy we had reached but I realized we had it even before we started dating.

"Oh yea?"

"Oh yea."

I laughed and kissed the top of her head again, pushing my notebook away and sitting better on the couch so we could be more comfortable. We remained in silence for a while until I sighed low.

"Are you hungry, do you want something to eat?"

She grimaced and groaned, shaking her head.

"You're gonna have to eat, you know." I pointed out, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"But i'm siiiiiick!"

"Told ya not to go out without a sweater. It's getting colder, especially at night."

She groaned again and buried her face in my neck.

"You're such a mom." she mumbled against my skin, making me laugh.

"And you're such a child." I replied for the second time that day.

I felt her lips brush against my neck and it made goosebumps appear on my skin. I brought my hand to her back and caressed her over her shirt to soothe her and after a while, she let out a low whimper that made me smile. She was still a bit warm, probably a sign that the fever was slowly coming back, and I finally got up quickly.

"Okay, enough." I let out, looking down at her as she sent me puppy eyes. "Soup for you, and meds, and then you rest."

"Nooo no no no!" she argued in a begging voice.

I pretended I didn't hear and just laughed as I walked to the kitchen to make some soup. When I came back, I noticed she was playing a video game on the tv and rolled my eyes with a smile. She had been a bit obsessed with Mario Kart recently and I just put the soup on the coffee table before going to the bathroom, looking through my stuff to find something against the flu. I got back with pills and a water bottle and she put her remote down to swallow the pills I gave her. I glanced at the tv and smiled.

"You know if I play with you, you won't be first in any of the races?" I pointed out with a laugh as she started eating.

She looked up at me and chuckled before grabbing an other remote and handing it to me, staring in my eyes with a small smirk.

"Don't hold back and cry."

"Challenge accepted."

We started playing and I tried hitting her gently with my elbow from time to time to distract her. She kept laughing whether she was winning or losing and that was something I loved about her. She didn't care if she won or not, she just wanted to have fun. We joked a lot about who was the best but in the end, It never really mattered to us as long as we had a good time together.

"Ex eaquo." she let out, putting the remote on the coffee table before turning to me and crossing her legs on the couch.

"Fair enough." I laughed a bit but it faded away quick enough.

She tilted her head while staring at me and I could swear her eyes fluttered. She sent me a warm and fond smile and it made me smile back. There was always something in the way she looked at me... something that made me wonder how I missed all the love in her eyes for all these years.

"Thank you for staying home today." she started, making the left corner of my lips raise up again. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"You don't have to thank me, I knew I was staying home with you the first time you woke up in the middle of the night. You didn't even have to do all that begging this morning."

She chuckled and raised her shoulders up and bit her bottom lip.

"Are you gonna take care of me like that when we'll be old? When our kids are out of the house, when there will be only us two again, when I can barely walk?"

My smile fell slightly and it hit me suddenly that she had thought about our future when It never really crossed my mind. It's not that I didn't want to, I just didn't know what I wanted. I preferred to live one day at a time instead to plan years ahead. I stared at her a few seconds, blinking a few times and trying to hide the fact that my heart was beating harder and faster suddenly. I didn't want to hurt her, I've hurt her enough for a few lifetimes already, so I just sent her a smile.

"Come here." I whispered, opening my arms.

Immediately, she moved closer and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight against me. I felt her lips travel again on my neck and up to my jaw.

"Will you?" she insisted in a murmur, making me press my lips together.

I turned my head her way and looked down, my eyes roaming on her face. I brought my hand to her cheek and let my fingers graze her skin softly. I picked my words carefully and licked my lips.

"I promise i'll always be there for you."

                                                           ----

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" I asked, raising my eyebrows as I looked at her.

I wanted to go out, I wanted to go for a few pints with my friends, and I didn't want to stay between these damn four walls tonight, but I still asked her.

"No, of course not, i'm fine!" she argued with a smile, grabbing her tissue box and bringing it on her lap. "I'll watch a few movies and go to bed so stay as late as you want."

"If you need me just call or text okay?" I proposed, putting my phone in my pocket. "It's on vibe, i'll feel it."

"Then I may just text you a lot." she joked with a laugh, making me chuckle too.

The discussion we had had in the afternoon had left me with a bittersweet feeling. For some reason, it made me want to run away so when my cousin called for an evening at the pub, I couldn't say no. I loved Olivia, I knew I did, but this whole thing was a bit too much for me and I didn't know what to think and how to feel anymore. She told me herself after all, didn't she? Love is not all you need, no matter what we've been told.

Apparently, a bunch of people I knew and didn't know were invited and I took a seat next to Louis who pushed a pint in front of me. I grabbed it and after a few seconds, I had swallowed half of it.

"Mate, you alright?"

I glanced at him and shrugged, focusing on the glass in my hands as I turned it slowly. I didn't want to share my feelings and thoughts with him if only because he was so close to my girlfriend now that it would make things awkward. It's not that I didn't trust him but I didn't want to put him in a position where he'd have to keep secrets from her or feel bad to be around her.

"Just tired." I lied with a shrug.

"Liv's still sick?"

"Yea, t'was worse this morning but she wasn't really in the mood to come."

"Legit."

I felt someone sit next to me and without thinking, I turned my head only to face one of the most gorgeous girls I had ever seen. She smiled more, maybe because of the way I was looking at her, and extended her hand to me after pushing a lock of her dark hair behind her shoulder.

"Hey, i'm Gia."

"Niall." I replied, shaking her hand slightly.

"I know."

I sent her a smile and my eyes moved down to check her out until I felt Louis nudge me on the side to get my attention. My eyes lingered for an other second on the pretty girl and I finally turned back to my friend who was raising his eyebrows at me.

"You're drooling." he pointed out in a low tone.

I could hear a hint of blame in his voice and groaned low. I knew I shouldn't be flirting but it seemed like I hadn't done something like this in years. I was not used to hold back, I was not used to stop myself from doing what I wanted... I was not used to be in a real relationship, or at least not for that long. Louis stared at me for a few more seconds before moving closer to me.

"Don't do that, Niall." he let out in a sad tone. "I promise it's not worth it."

I sighed low and nodded slowly before he sent me a small smile and got up. I watched him leave and was ready to do the same when I felt a hand on my arm and stopped moving completely. I felt a shiver run up my spine but it was more because of the thrill than because of her touch.

"Are you leaving already?"

I stared at her for a few seconds before sitting back down. I should leave, every fiber of my body was telling me to run away and go back to Olivia, but I couldn't. Instead, I remained quiet for a few seconds and finally smiled more.

"No, i'm staying."

We talked for a while and the way she looked at me made me believe I could bring her home if I wanted. I kept thinking about Liv but tried to push the thought away when a feeling of guilt would invade me. I was not really doing anything, and I didn't plan to do anything, but I couldn't pretend it didn't bother me that I couldn't enjoy this a bit more. I swallowed my third beer and chuckled at something moderately funny she said.

"Look, Gia, I need to tell you something." I let out, licking my lips. "I already have a girlfriend."

"Oh I know, and I don't care." she admitted with a shrug as she laughed again. "Heidi told me it was not serious."

"Heidi?" I asked with a frown, looking around the table to finally meet her eyes.

She sent me a smirk and I felt suddenly totally stupid. Did Heidi do that on purpose? Was I just fooled like a fucking loser? I turned back to Gia and sent her a smile, shaking my head.

"Was nice meeting you, but I need to go now."

I pushed my chair and got up but she grabbed my wrist and it felt wrong. I could feel the way Olivia wrapped her fingers gently around my wrist sometimes and my heart skipped a beat as I took my hand back, feeling Gia's fingers slide on my skin and making me grimace. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous and no matter what excuses came to my mind, I was the only one to blame.

"Don't leave, I really don't care that you have a girlfriend."

I sighed again but louder this time and bent down to look in her eyes.

"I do."

I walked away in the direction of the door and glared at Heidi for a few seconds. Quickly, she jumped off her chair and followed me.

"Niall." she said, making an annoying noise with her heels on the wood floor. "Niall!"

She grabbed my arm and made me stop walking. I turned around and shook my head at her, talking before she could say anything.

"You set this up?" I asked, a bit mad. "You asked this girl to come and flirt with me to see if i'd cheat on my girlfriend? What kind of fucking sicko are you?"

"No!" she frowned, shaking her head a bit too quickly. "She said she thought you were sexy and I said you were taken but it wasn't anything serious, that's it!"

"Heidi, I've literally been dating Olivia for almost a year, how can this not be serious?"

She stared at me and raised her eyebrows, taking a lock of her hair and twisting it around one of her fingers. I remembered she always did that whenever she wanted us to have sex and took a step back without realizing it.

"Didn't seem serious when your eyes were literally glued to Gia's cleavage."

I closed my eyes, knowing she was right and swallowed hard.

"You got me there, i'm human." I let out, pressing my lips together as I felt anger invade my insides. I just wasn't sure if I was mad at Heidi or at myself. Maybe a bit of both. "A sad, poor excuse of one, but a human being nonetheless."

"Oh please, Niall." she added, rolling her eyes. "You're 23, it's not like you were going to spend your life with her. I mean okay, she's your best friend so this little masquerade you're doing lasts a little longer. I know you don't want to hurt her but seriously? Can you imagine having sex only with her for the rest of your life? Get married? Have kids? You're not ready for that, Niall."

She looked at me in an amused way and chuckled meanly, putting her hands on her waist. I hated her words and felt something burn inside me. I hated it because every single word she said seemed so true it made me want to puke. I was not ready, no matter what I tried to make myself or even Olivia believe. Clearly, my girlfriend was a step ahead in our relationship and it was scaring me. I was not going to let Heidi know, though, simply because it was none of her business.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." I just said rudly, walking past her and reaching the door.

She followed me quickly but remained close to the door as I walked out.

"I'm right and you know it, Niall!"

I stopped and turned around, walking back quickly to her suddenly angrier than ever.

"I love her! I'm in love with her!" I could feel my hands shake and I placed them into fists as I tried not to let anger consume me.

"Oh sure you do. But you two started dating too fast. You clearly got a lot left to live and you're too young to settle forever." she explained with a small shrug.

The fact that she remained so calm annoyed me and I groaned low, raising my nose up. Why was I even listening to her anyway? I should go back to Olivia and make sure she was okay. I should get a cab and go back home to join her in bed and cuddle her. But what I shouldn’t do is stay there, in the cold, listening to a girl I thought was my friend tell me that the relationship I have with my girlfriend was a mistake.

"And if you need me to help you relax, she let out, taking a step closer and running her hand on my chest. "I'm always here, whether you're still dating her or not.”

A bit roughly, I pushed her hand away and took a step back. I watched her, her arms around herself, shivering because of the cold, and I realized that I didn't want any of this.

"October's a cold month at night." I just pointed out a bit meanly. "You should wear a sweater."

Without an other word, I turned on my heels and left quickly. I heard her yell behind me and held my breath.

"You'll call me back sooner than you think!"

I started running for a reason I ignored and when my throat was burning and I couldn't seem to breathe anymore, I stopped and held myself on my knees, panting. Perhaps I hated this and everything Heidi had mentioned because I knew, deep down, that she was right. I felt the few beers I drank make me want to puke and turned to my right, vomiting slightly in the grass. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly and deeply, trying to get my heartbeats back to a normal pace but It wasn't due to my run but more because of all the guilt running inside me. I loved Olivia, I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone. It was scary and troubling and I was not really sure what to do with those feelings.

I kept walking around slowly, knowing that I should get a taxi but not really sure I wanted to. I didn't feel ready to go home and see my girlfriend after everything that happened, even if she wasn't aware of anything. I couldn't stop thinking about what Heidi told me and about how Liv said that love was not all that was needed in a relationship. I loved her and she loved me, shouldn't it be enough?

Before I realized it, I stood in front of my house and sighed, taking one of my hands out of my pocket to look at the time on my watch. It was already 2am and I just stood there a few more minutes before walking in. All the lights were off and I blinked a few times until my eyes got used to the dark. I walked to my room and quickly undressed before getting under the covers with my girlfriend. She didn't move and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her to me until her back pressed on my chest. I loved her, I couldn't see my life without her, and I had to stop letting doubts get the best of me.

"I love you, Olivia." I whispered, burring my nose in her hair and closing my eyes. "I'm in love with you."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #my fanfics #amc #ehh yea sorry #for what happened in the chapter #and also for how poorly written it is

[bebepac]

Ooh Baby!

I am participating in @emceesynonymroll wacky drabble prompt # 36 “Aren’t you going to read the Instructions?”  Which will appear in bold.  These are fun, if you are thinking about joining, hit her up.  I am loving doing these weekly.  

This is chapter 7 of the Life of Riley series  to catch up please click

 The Life of Riley

Riley Brooks belongs to Pixelberry

Jason and Ren Brooks are my own characters.

Word Count 1039 (i’m getting back there i promise)

Summary:  Jason and Ren bring baby Riley home from the hospital.  

Tagging : @dcbbw @loveellamae @burnsoslow @queenjilian @janezillow @lodberg @kimmiedoo5 @glaimtruelovealways @custaroonie @annekebbphotography @camersworld @iaminlovewithtrr @queenwalton @xpandabeardontcarex @the-soot-sprite @atha68 @sevenfuckslefttogive @losingbraincellseveryday @islandcrow @hopefulmoonobject @lovemychoices​ @texaskitten30​ @furiousherringoperatortoad​ @indiacater​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @randomfandomteacher​ @losingbraincellseveryday​

Warnings:  Light profanity and fluff alert.  If this fic was a dog, it would be this dog. I’m calling him Sir Fluffs A Lot.  He likes big fluffs and he cannot lie. 

Ren sat in the back of the car just staring at baby Riley as Jason drove down the street.  

“So what’s the plan Renny B?“

“We go to the store now, to get the absolute essentials we need to get her home and stay home. She’s 4 days old and she doesn’t need to be out around  people like this yet.”

“Ok right, so we need right now?”

“When we get to the store, i’ll go in for all that stuff, and you sit in the back with her.  We’ll go home.  Put the crib together. Make a bigger list of more stuff we need.  I’ll send you out later.“

They got the stuff they needed from the store, and dusted and cleaned the room that would now be Riley’s.  

Jason took out the pieces to the crib and started assembling it.

He could feel Ren’s stare at him as she held Riley in her arms.

"Aren’t you gonna read the instructions?”

“Yep already read them.”

Ren threw her head back in annoyance.

“You really don’t mean 3 years ago, do you?”

“Ren, it’s a crib. It should be crib shaped, when I am done. I’ve already put it together once before.”

“Ok.”

She took a whiff of the air. “Uh oh, somebody made a stinky, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ren went over to the changing table with Riley. He watched as she hummed and talked to Riley as she changed her diaper. You would think that cute little girl had just cured cancer, the way Ren looked at her.  

“So that was your ‘i’m making a stinky’ face you were making?”

She paused as if waiting for Riley to respond.

“I know we just met, it’s ok to be shy.” She said pausing again. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now, we’ll learn together.”

She chuckled softly to herself then kissed Riley’s little hands and feet.

“All better now. No more stinky.” She cuddled Riley close to her.

Ren was a natural. Motherhood looked beautiful on Ren. Jason wiped the tears from his eyes and continued working on the crib.  

She went to the living room and sat down with Riley.  She was going to turn on the tv, but she couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful  7 pound 12 ounce little bundle of adorableness in her arms.

“Who would ever want to give you up, I can’t imagine, but I’m so happy you are here with us now.  You’re such a sweet girl. We promise we will love you to the moon and back again.”

Riley nuzzled closer to her chest like she was trying to feel Ren’s heartbeat. Once she found her desired spot she noticed her little brown eyes were getting droopy, her sucks on the pacifier starting to slow.

Ren kissed her little girl’s forehead and watched her fall asleep.

She heard Jason call from up stairs.  She slowly got up not to wake Riley. Her eyes remained closed, along with a random suck of her pacifier.  

When she walked in the room, Jason was about to yell when he saw Ren put her fingers to her lips.

“TA DA! he said softly.

Ren noticed 3 white screws on the floor.  

"What are those then?”

“Extra parts.”

Ren smirked. “I’m not putting her in there.”

“Fine! I’ll prove it to you, I will get in there my damn self.”

“And when you die Jason, I will not remarry; it will be just us girls.”

Ren watched as Jason contorted himself to get inside the crib and sat in it. It supported his weight fine.

He got out of the crib without tripping or falling.

“Put her in, she’ll be fine.”

Ren put Riley in the crib.  They both stood there watching her sleep.

Jason took Ren’s hand, she looked up at him teary eyed.

Finally there was a baby sleeping in the crib, they bought over 3 years ago.

Jason and Ren were used to being on a schedule.  They quickly learned their schedule didn’t mean shit to Riley. This girl rules the roost. They dealt with months of random wakeups.  Here’s one night.

12:47am: They woke up to a screaming Riley.

“I got her,” Jason said, leaping out of bed. He prepared her a bottle. Checked her diaper. It was dry. Gave her milk, she was calm.

1:48am: Her pacifier had fallen out of her mouth. Ren slipped it back in. Crisis averted.

2:31am: Riley crying again. “I’m up, I’ll get her.” Riley’s wet and needs a diaper change. Ren gave  her some snuggles and  she calmed right down.

?:??am: Something o'clock. The numbers are too blurry to read. “I didn’t fall back asleep, I got her Jason.”  Time for a bottle? Maybe?

5:04am “I’ll get her.”  Jason stumbled out of bed down the hall. Ren was almost back to sleep when she heard Jason on the baby monitor.

“MOTHER OF GOD!!!!!”  How does that even (dry heave) happen!!!!!“ (dry heave)

Ren jumps out of bed. Coming into the nursery.

"Oh my gosh!” She had a blowout, and it was everywhere.

Riley was giggling at their faces.

“How does all that happen Ren, you’re a nurse. She’s so little. How is there room for that in such a tiny human?”

Ren was at loss for words.  

“There’s poo in her hair. I did not think that was aerodynamically possible.” Jason was flabbergasted.  

“So this is a two person job, which one do you want, bed or baby?”

“I’ll take bed.”

“So that means, I have the baby. Come here you little stinker!”

She picked up Riley taking her to the bathroom.  She peeled off her onesie, and threw it in the trash.

“Not worth saving that.”

Riley giggled.

“So you think this is funny, you little stinker?” She made a face at her.

She giggled again.  She gently washed her daughter, and her curly hair, wrapping  her in a towel, rushing her to the changing table to get her a diaper before, or if the nightmare happened again.

They sat on the edge of the bed looking at each other, Ren, holding sweet  baby Riley in her arms.

Both sighed. They wouldn’t change a thing.

They were blessed to be parts of The Life of Riley.

#trr riley #trr fanfic #the life of riley #riley b #riley b parents #trr mc #queen of cordonia #trr fandom #trr #trh #wacky drabbles

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. What is your favorite shade of blue? Pastel blue, teal, Tiffany blue, baby blue, powder blue, sky blue, turquoise. 2. When's the last time you bought something just because? I bought some room sprays and hand sanitizers from this place that makes Disneyland/World scented things because I was missing Disney and wanted to bring some of it to my house. 3. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? I only know Crazy Train and I mean, I do feel like I’m on a crazy train. 4. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? I don’t do that. 5. Do you daydream? Yeah. My mind wanders and I zone out a lot.

6. What was your last daydream about? Random stuff. 7. Ever won the lottery? No, I wish. 8. How much did you get for your high school graduation? I think around $300 and my parents my threw me a nice graduation party. 9. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? Not taking care of/putting off some things and neglecting myself.  10. Do you know what your Chinese horoscope is? Nope. 11. What is love really about? Encouragement, support, growth. 12. What's the most you ever made in a year? I’ve never had a job. 13. Do you have an online diary? You’re lookin’ at it. 14. What's the biggest pot you've won in poker? I’ve never played poker. 15. What's your most prized possession? I love all my things. 16. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? I don’t listen to Metallica. 17. Ever been to Ozzfest? No. I take it you’re an Ozzy fan. 18. How many concerts have you been to? I think I’ve been to 7. 19. Which one was your favorite? All of them were fun, but the Jonas Brothers concerts and the Green Day concert were my favorites. 20. What shade of purple most describes your feelings right now? I don’t know. 21. Pick a shade of a color. Now describe it to me and name it. Nah. 22. Sun tea or brewed tea? My mom used to make sun tea during the summers growing up, which I liked. I haven’t had that since then. Nowadays I just throw a tea bag in a cup of hot water and let it steep for a few minutes.  23. What's the most illegal thing you've done? I haven’t done anything serious. 24. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. 25. What's under your bed? Nothing. 26. Vacuum or dustbuster? Vacuum. 27. How many people are on your buddy list? Aw, the days of AIM. 28. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? I’ve never owned a pair of rollerblades. 29. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? No. 30. What's your favorite card game? I like card games like Uno, Apples to Apples, and Cards Against Humanity. 31. Who was the most annoying person you've talked to on the phone? I’m not a fan of talking on the phone in general. 32. What's your favorite fast food meal? Wingstop’s boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings with their ranch and a a side of lemon pepper sauce. 33. Where is the best restaurant you've ever eaten in at? This Mongolian BBQ place was my favorite back when I could eat spicy food. 34. Lamb chops or pork chops? Neither. 35. How many roses have you received/given? I’ve never received or given roses. 36. When's the last time you mowed the lawn? Never. 37. Washed your car? I’ve never had a car since I don’t drive. I have participated in several car wash fundraising events for Girl Scouts and the psych club I was in in community college, though. 38. Ever have a tornado in your town? No, thankfully we don’t get tornadoes. --- 40. What state is your wardrobe in? Uh, it’s fine?  41. What's the last article of clothing you bought? A cute Valentine’s Day themed Baby Yoda shirt from Boxlunch. 42. How many trash cans can you see right now? One. 43. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? Ah, I don’t know. 44. Ever heard of Shinedown? Yeah. 45. They rock, don't they? I only know one of their songs and I don’t really care for it much. 46. What size is your bed? It’s a full. 47. When's the last time you had pigs in a blanket? I have no idea. It’s been several years. I don’t particularly care for those. 48. Have you ever painted the ceilings in your home? No. We haven’t painted anywhere in this house. 49. What does your lawn furniture consist of? We just have a bench in the backyard. 50. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? I do have my nightly bowl of ramen, but it’s not the only thing I eat. 51. What flavor of jelly are you? *shrug* 52. Ever take any of those online personality quizzes? I’ve taken several. 53. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? I don’t hide any of the musical artists or bands that I’m into. 54. What's on the floor in your bedroom? Nothing. 55. What is the first meal you remember eating? Pfft, I have no idea. 56. Ever been to a drive in? Yeah, a few times. I wish those would make a big comeback. 57. What was the first movie you ever saw? I don’t remember. 56. What's in your keepsake box/scrapbook? I don’t have like a designated box and I don’t have a scrapbook, but I’ve kept a lot of things throughout my life and a ton of photos all stored away in various places.  57. Describe your first date. It was dinner and a movie. 58. Would you recognize most of your classmates 5 years after graduation? Not from my college graduations. 59. What percentile of your class were you in? I have no idea. 60. When was the last time it rained while the sun was shining? I don’t recall. 61. What did you score on your SATs? I never took the SATs. 62. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? It’s been several years. 63. Name your favorite artist/song from before 1990. I have many favorites. 64. Do you think there should be new genres of music to encompass some of the newer rock performers out now? I don’t know, man. 65. What colors is your lava lamp? I don’t have a lava lamp. I did have one as a kid, though. I think it was blue. 66. What's the strangest thing you've ever hung on the wall? I haven’t hung up anything strange. 67. When's the last time you did laundry? My laundry was done a few days ago. 68. How many hammers do you own? I don’t personally have any hammers, but my dad does. I could use one of his if I needed to. 69. Can you name every place you've ever had sex? Yeah, nowhere.  70. How many speakers are in your bedroom? My laptop, TV, iPhone, and my Nintendo Switch.  71. DVD or VHS? I just watch movies through a streaming service. 72. What's the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? Myself? Lost her a few years ago...still haven’t found her. 73. What forms of birth control have you used? Abstinence (I’m a virgin). 74. How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? I’ve made a few back in the day, but no I don’t remember any of them. 75. You have .30 in two coins. One of them is not a nickel. What are they? One of them is not a nickel, but the other one is.  76. What's your pet peeve when cleaning the house? I don’t enjoy cleaning in general. 77. Do you use sponges or dishcloths when doing the dishes? We use a dish washing brush. 78. How many people are in your family portrait? Four. 79. How many times have you moved? A few, but only once that I’m old enough to remember. 80. Handcuffs or rope :D? Neither. 81. What season best describes your temperament? Whatever one best goes along with irritability and moodiness. 82. What's the last thing you had to drink? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink. 83. Ever been so drunk you blacked out? No, but parts of my memory from one night when I got too drunk are spotty. 84. What's your favorite song on the top twenty right now? I don’t even know what the top 20 is right now. I haven’t been listening to music.  85. What do your light fixtures look like? I have a ceiling lamp and a floor lamp. 86. How many jobs have you held for more than a month? I haven’t had a job. 87. Ever punched a wall? No. 88. When's the last time you really lost your temper? It’s been a long time. 89. How do you cope? Good question. 90. What's your antidrug? My go-to distractions ASMR, watching YouTube videos, scrolling through Tumblr, checking my social medias, doing surveys, reading, watching TV, coloring, sleeping... 91. Ever grown any plants before? What were they? Nope. 92. Ever own a director chair? No. 93. When was the last time you camped out? Never. I have no interest in camping. 94. Went swimming? It’s been like 7 years now since I last went swimming. 95. Went fishing? I’ve only done it once and very briefly. 96. Oust or Glade and why? Glade.  97. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? Nope. 98. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? -- 99. Do you have a red-eye mouse or one with a ball? I don’t have a mouse, I use the trackpad on my laptop. 100. What do your doorstops look like? Uhh those springy ones. I don’t know how else to describe it. The ones that make a lot of noise if you accidentally bump into it. 101. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? I was by my grandpa’s side when he died and I was just telling him how much I loved him, thanked him for everything, and comforted him; letting him know it was okay to go. 102. What do your drinking glasses look like? We have various glasses and mugs. 103. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? We don’t have a medicine cabinet, but we have a medicine drawer full of various medications. 104. How many funerals have you been to? Three. 105. How many states have you been to? Five, including my own.

106. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? A gnat. I just swatted it. 107. What does your country need right now? Unity. 108. Are you creative? I wish I was. I don’t have any creativity, artistic abilities, or good ideas. 109. How so? -- 110. How many computers in your household? Two. 111. Ever help to solve a crime? No. 112. Who is in the picture frame on your bedside table? I don’t have any photos on my bedside table. 113. How many CDs does your player hold? I don’t have a CD player. I haven’t had one in many years. 114. What is one thing you'd like to do before you die? Get my shit together and do something with my life. 115. Do the good die young or do they die before they have a chance to be bad? That seems to imply that everyone ends up bad. 116. What's your favorite totally cliche' saying? Blah. 117. Ever go out of your way to exact revenge on someone? No. I’m not a vengeful person. 118. Was it worth it? I don’t think it would ever be worth it.  119. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I don’t even drive, so no. 120. What's the weather like right now? It’s currently 50F. 121. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? Tequila shots. 122. Do you have a door/doorknob to your room? Yes. 123. Name one thing you regret? I have a few regrets. :/ 124. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? No. I don’t even write poetry. 125. What's the furthest distance you've moved? Across town. 126. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? None anymore... 127. Where is your home/heart right now? Right here. 128. What's the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Many things throughout my life and even still.  129. What's the most expensive thing you've bought? My first MacBook back in 2009.  130. How many hangers are in your closet? Uh, a lot. I’m not counting. 131. If you died right now, would you feel cheated or happy? I haven’t accomplished anything. :/ 132. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? Zero. 133. Ever spent the night in the "loony bin?" Don’t call it that, first of all, and no. 134. What's wrong with society? Ignorance, close-mindedness, greed, hate, violence... 135. How many crazy ice cream trucks are in your area? Uh, I’ve never considered any of them to be crazy. Anyway, lately there’s been an ice cream truck coming through my neighborhood, which is is the first in many years. What a random time, though. 136. What is your favorite cover song? I love the cover of George Michael’s, Fast Love, that Adele performed at an award show after he died in honor of him. I always describe it as hauntingly beautiful. It was just so good. I wish she would have released a studio version of it. 137. Does the weather ever seem to reflect your mood eerily? I’m always moody, so when it’s rainy and gloomy it does. 138. Are you more psychic than most people? I don’t believe in psychic abilities.  139. What's your inspiration? I don’t know. :/ 140. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Whatever it was Joseph and I had lasted 3 years, which is longer than technically the only relationship I had that lasted just a few months. What I had with Joseph felt more like one as well in a lot of ways. 141. Did you ever drop out of school? No. 142. Ever raise a child that wasn't your own for more than 3 months? No. 143. What is your favorite piece of jewelry? Probably the stuff I have with birthstone.  144. Ever help someone cheat on someone else? Absolutely not. 145. Are you a cheater too? No. 146. What was the last dessert type food you've eaten? I had some mini funfetti muffins yesterday. 147. Fill in the blank: I'm a ________aholic. Coffeeholic. 148. When's the last time you went to a hairdresser/salon? Last February. I’ve over a year due now.  149. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? I had to wear this thing called a halo, which is a weird thing that gets drilled into the front of your head (I have two tiny circular scars above each eyebrow from that) and on the back are some weights attached to it that hang down. It was put on after my spinal fusion surgery and is meant to keep your back straight and things in place. It was awful. And heavy. When it was removed I had to wear a neck brace for a bit because my neck was weak. 150. Do you own any appliances? Yeah, we have several appliances. 151. Do you have an "egg crate" on your bed? Yes. 153. Last time you went to the laundromat? I remember tagging along as a kid with my grandma before. 154. How many hinges are on your front door? I’m not sure. 155. Can I be done yet? Yeah, I think you’re good.  

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 18

Summary: Sookie comes to learn her little sister’s got her life together while she has to rebuild everything.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2254

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Spending the entire night with Jason and Sookie, cuddled in blankets, drinking hot coco with marshmallows… all of it seemed like a distant dream. A dream Brooklynne had had multiple times in the past year, once she thought would never happen again.

It was as hard for Sookie to get back to real life as it was for Brooklynne. Everyone in Bon Temps was so happy to not only hear about her return but also to see her again. The excuse Bill gave the police was very useful to shut anyone who was a little too curious. Of course, not everything was easy, and now that Sookie was back, it was a hard adjustment for Eric and Brooke to have a new roommate. So hard, in fact, that after only one day, Eric suggested they get a place of their own. A suggestion which, to her own surprise, she didn’t find uninteresting.

“Anywhere but Bon Temps,” Eric whispered so close to her hear she managed to hear him despite the terrible and terribly loud music playing in the club.

“You mean Shreveport,” she chuckled as she slid a hand in his hair, gently bringing his face to hers.

As per usual, she was sitting on his lap, on his ‘throne’. She had learnt to ignore the dozen pair of eyes, human or vampire, that were fixed on them for the entirety of the night. They were different, depending on their species. Mortals envied her. The undead judged him. Silently, of course. They knew what would happen if their sheriff caught them talking ill of his human.

The humans outside, however, weren’t so quiet or discreet about their judgmental ideas and hate. Steve Newlin’s following only grew bigger every day, ever since Russell went crazy on live TV, and a portion of it from Louisiana reunited every night in front of Fangtasia to spew their hatred all over its customers, be they vampire, or human. It did scare away most of the mortal clientele, though Fangtasia had been around for a while, and had, fortunately for business, loyal customers.

“What’s wrong with Shreveport?”

“What’s wrong with Bon Temps?”

He smirked. He liked it when she was challenging him. Always reminding him how perfect she was for him.

“We’d be close to Fangtasia. We wouldn��t have to fly here every night.”

“I like to fly,” she shrugged.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said with a grin.

“So, what do you want? To build a home under the club?”

“I would hate that as much as you would. I had an apartment in mind.”

“An apartment?”

He nodded. “UV protected windows, with a view…”

“Mmh… that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Wait until you see the view.”

“I don’t care about the view. As long as we’re together.”

She pulled him to her, his lips crashing onto hers. That was how the night almost always ended, except when a dumbass decided to get into a fight with the other dumbasses outside.

“Eric.”

The Viking chose to ignore his progeny, hoping she’d get the hint and leave them alone.

“Eric.”

“Not now, Pam,” he said between two intense kisses.

“We have a problem.”

Brooklynne moved away, both annoyed and frustrated, making the vampire growl.

“What is it?” he snarled.

“Some idiot outside got into a fight with the other idiots outside.”

“Can’t you handle it?”

“It’s Hoyt, Eric. Jessica’s human? The King’s progeny? Rings any bell?”

Eric sighed as he tried hard not to roll his eyes.

“Go, it’s fine,” Brooke told him, not even trying to hide her disappointment.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said before he stole another kiss from her.

“Oh, I know,” she smirked, not wanting him to leave in such a bad mood.

He chuckled as he got up, letting her slide gently onto the chair. Oh, how it made him feel to see her sitting there. She was never sexier than in his chair. She watched him leave, wiggling her fingers as he turned to her one last time. Left alone, she looked around the room, still feeling the eyes of the people there, humans still wishing they were in her position, vampires unhappy about their mortal queens. But as unhappy as they were, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, that she was, indeed, their queen.

 ***

 Wrapped in Eric’s large grey shirt, Brooke was sound asleep in their bed, in the cool of his arms. She couldn’t remember the last time she got up before noon, but she was always awake before Eric, who only opened his eyes at sundown. She awoke particularly early that afternoon and she would usually stay in bed and go back to sleep but since Sookie was back she had been getting up sooner to spend as much time as possible with her before she had to leave for Fangtasia. She rubbed her eyes as she yawned, another hour of sleep wouldn’t have been so bad.

She didn’t bother dressing up and climbed the ladder carefully. She knew she could make all the noise in the world and it wouldn’t wake the vampire up, but she always tried to be considerate. Human habit.

She shielded her eyes from the sun of the early afternoon as she opened the doors of the fake wooden wardrobe. She heard voices coming from the kitchen and wondered who Sookie could’ve been with as she knew Jason was working. Besides, it sounded like a woman’s voice. It sounded like…

“Tara,” Brooklynne smiled as she stepped into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” a laugh escaped her as she went to hug her old friend.

“Hey Brooke, you’re up late,” Tara chuckled as she hugged her back.

“Or early, considering she went to bed at 6,” Sookie said with a grimace.

“Don’t tell me you spend your nights with that vampire,” Tara scolded the young telepath as she saw the logo of Fangtasia on her shirt.

“Her nights and her days,” Sookie informed her friend, “he lives here now.”

“He what?”

“Eric moved in months ago,” Brooke said as she made her way to the fridge.

“Are you telling me that psychopath who kidnapped and tortured Lafayette for weeks lives in this house?”

Brooklynne paused.

“First of all, he apologized for that, he even gave him a car. Second of all, yes, Tara, my boyfriend lives with me… in my house.”

“Lafayette’s terrified of that motherfucker, he can give him all the cars in the world it won’t change a thing!”

“And… this is still my house,” Sookie said.

“Actually… it isn’t,” Brooke wrinkled her nose. “The deed’s in my name now… I signed the papers and everything…” she continued as she closed the fridge, a bottle of orange juice in one hand.

“What?” Sookie breathed out as if she had just been punched in the heart.

“Legally I had to… since you were gone for so long… I’m sorry,” she shrugged. “But it’s still your house. It’s always gonna be your house. And Jason’s.”

“Great,” Sookie threw her hands in the air, “good thing I came back or you’d have sold my car next.”

“That’s not fair,” Brooklynne replied, offended. “I took care of your car, I took care of all your stuff.”

“I’m not staying one more second here, I don’t want your boyfriend to think I’m his dinner,” she said as she practically jumped off her chair and made her way to the back door.

“Tara, wait!”

“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Brooke called after her, but Tara wasn’t listening.

Sookie gave a disappointed and disapproving look to her sister before she went after her friend. Brooke shrugged, walked up to the shelf where they kept the glasses and poured herself a full glass of orange juice. She mumbled something as she brought it to her lips.

“And a good day to you to.”

 ***

 Sookie was obviously mad when she came back. Tara had just come back from New-Orleans to see her and they had already been in a fight. It all made Brooklynne seriously reconsider Eric’s offer to move in that apartment in Shreveport, the one with the great view. Fortunately, the two sisters didn’t get the opportunity to argue about Eric again, as the phone rang as soon as she came back in the house, having failed to convince Tara to stay a little more.

“Who was it?” Brooklynne asked before taking another sip from her glass.

“Andy,” she sighed. “Jason didn’t come to work this morning and he’s not answering his phone.”

“Did he check his house?”

“He asked me to do it,” she answered as she took her car keys from the counter.

“Want me to come with…”

“No.”

Brooklynne silently watched her sister exit through the back door and quickly get into her car. After Sookie was gone, she washed the dishes, then took a long and cold shower, wondering what she should do while waiting for the night to come.

 ***

 Brooklynne’s denial of Jason’s situation unnerved Sookie more than anything. Though Eric acted as usual, detached from any feeling and showing no particular worry, he did find it strange too. Maybe it was too hard for Brooklynne to even imagine that another one of her siblings was missing again out of nowhere with no clue as to where to find them. Or maybe it was just as she said, optimism and trust. Jason would come back. Like Sookie did. Eric didn’t dare say aloud what both he and Sookie thought: hopefully, it wouldn’t take a year.

“He’s probably with a girl,” she said to her sister. “He’ll be back in a week.”

Jason’s disappearance had one positive effect, at least, Sookie and Brooklynne weren’t arguing about Eric anymore. Especially since Eric had said he’d order some vampires to look for their brother. Sookie appreciated it, even if she wouldn’t say it aloud. But there was something else that bothered the eldest telepath, something that had been bothering her ever since she had come back from Alcide’s.

“Wasn’t he happy to see you?” Brooklynne asked as she put a plate down on the table.

“He was very happy to see me,” Sookie answered as she handed her the cutlery. She was cooking Adele’s famous sausage recipe, Jason’s favorite.

“Then what?” she insisted as she finished setting up the table.

“Debbie was there.”

“Yeah. They got back together a few months ago. She’s clean now.”

“Wait… you knew?”

Brooke shrugged. “Alcide helped us a lot when we were looking for you. We spent a lot of time together.”

“He kept whining about that V addicted werewolf who left him,” Eric said as he appeared from the living room.

“She needed help getting clean. Needed support,” Brooke continued as she gave a reproving look to the vampire. Eric ignored it and kissed her temple, a gesture she took as an apology. That was the best she’d get from him anyway.

“We’re out of Tru Blood,” Sookie informed the vampire.

“I know,” he told her as he slid his hands on Brooke’s waist, gently bringing her back to his chest before placing a kiss on her neck, where two puncture wounds could be seen.

Sookie grimaced as she turned around and got back to the stove where the sausages were about to burn. Brooke smiled before she put a kiss on Eric’s lips. She meant to get the glasses from the shelf, but Eric had something else in mind. He didn’t let her go from his arms and captured her lips, tightening his hold on her.

“Could you not?” Sookie sighed. “We’re about to eat.”

“I’m about to eat too,” he smirked, making her roll her eyes.

“Stop it,” Brooke giggled, wiggling out of Eric’s arms. “I’m not your dinner,” she playfully punched him in the arm.

“No?” he asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

She smiled back, bit her lower lip, then tiptoed and wrapped her arms around his neck before whispering in his ear.

“No, I’m your dessert.”

“Mmh, I like that.”

“Ew, stop it,” Sookie begged.

“You didn’t even hear what I said,” Brooke told her.

“I can read your mind, remember?”

“Then stay out of my head.”

As Sookie put the pan in the middle of the table, dinner being ready to be served, Eric’s phone started to ring.

“I thought Fangtasia was closed tonight,” Sookie said as she sat down.

“Fangtasia is never closed,” he told her before putting another kiss on Brooke’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Brooklynne sat across from Sookie and started eating, every bite reminded her of her grandmother, even the smell, as if Adele was right there with them.

“You’re the only one who can cook it perfectly.”

“It’s just sausages,” Sookie chuckled.

“Nothing new from Jason?”

“Afraid not… Andy said he’d file a missing person report tomorrow… I said he should have already done it but…”

“You know Jason… he’s just fooling around with a girl.”

“He hasn’t answered his phone in two days, Brooke.”

“So, it died,” she shrugged. “He’s too busy to notice.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sookie whispered, more to herself.

Eric stepped back in the kitchen with an annoyed look on his face. Though Sookie noticed, she didn’t bother asking him about it, she didn’t really care about his problems.

“What’s wrong?” Brooke asked.

“We have to go.”

“You can deal with your problems on your own, Eric,” Sookie told him. “Or ask Pam.”

“It’s Bill,” he said. “He has a job for us.”

**********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927​ @abbey7103​

#true blood #eric northman #eric x oc #sookie stackhouse #jason stackhouse #fanfic #fanfiction #oc #imagine #reader #eric x reader

[acrylicblanks3]

Wonderfully Fit Kids -- Summer Crafts

acrylic blanks

I need creative kids! I adore creating things using my creative young people! I love that your creative kids will grow up into magnificent problem solvers! ALTHOUGH I do not enjoy unrealistic expectations concerning our creative period.

acrylic blanks

This summer the objective is to have fun, rss feed your children's paper hearts with creative functions and keep the application simple! The most important take into account creating a creative action for kids can be that they feel successful-bottom line! You don't just want to pick a project as a consequence of what YOU want them to make. It is all about these individuals being kids. Therefore it WILL be a little sloppy, it WON'T look ideal, and you may not be capable to hold their curiosity as long as you'd like, Nevertheless, you NEED to do it! So why? Because so much your kids' lives usually are scheduled, structured, plugged-in, and "multiple choice" that the value involving preserving some good ol' creative time, when it is ALL about all of them and the magical possibilities within each of their own minds, is PRECIOUS! I would argue it does not take single most important element we can do for the kids. We want these to grow into grown persons who love to overcome a problem, who have fun in the face of discouragement along with who confidently generate change! This is why everyone raise creatively meet kids!

Here are a top five summer season crafts. I am using you off the lure. You don't need fancy items. You don't need to spend big money. You don't have to worry about care (it doesn't exist). All you have to do is usually provide the raw materials and the backyard kitchen table. Then, you can terry your back together with compliment yourself with raising future problem-solving, optimistic, & stirred adults!

#1 Tie-dye

You can't beat this! I recommend buying a tie-dye kit. Jacquard helps make some great, simple packages that have everything you need! This colors will extremely stay vibrant (just follow the directions). Now, you could accomplish t-shirts (you are able to do cute tanks for ladies, etc . ) AND ALSO what about tie-dying white colored beach towels, bandannas, or cover-ups. It is possible to tie-dye almost anything! DRESS YOURSELF IN gloves, or both hands will stay multi-colored designed for days and tie-dye outside. When you are accomplished, take the kids on the pool or flip the sprinkler!

#2 Artsy Summer Bag

This is truly entertaining for ANY age! We created some of these hand bags with my young ones when they were merely 1, 2 and additionally 3! All you need is mostly a plain tote case (even a coloring is fine), several masking tape so that you can mask off the ideas for painting space, and polymer-bonded paint (it's most nontoxic ). Merely place the mp3 on the side of the carrier in whatever pattern you want. If you have small kids, you can recording paper to cover other tote so all their creativity stays "in the lines" (can you believe I am announcing that?!?! ). This process is what I actually call "organized chaos". Paint the entire part of the next bag and then determine which you like the top. Then, give young kids one color at any given time. If you wanted to benefit from all colors, for instance , start with the lightest first and progress: yellow, orange, white, blue, purple, efficient. Or stay in a particular color family and so the colors don't get "mushed" into muddy hues. Paint with green, green and green. Let them make use of a paint brush, ones own fingers (this could be the beauty of summer season craft time-it's out in the open! ), or plastic stamps, sponges, or other things that is laying approximately.

Here is what you do but if the kids don't have a tough attention span. Purely make it a many occasion craft. Possibly your 3 12 months old only causes it to become through the yellow in addition to green paint, nevertheless, you really want to see the azure on there. Well, coloring the blue at tomorrow. Go with that flow! You have to by means of creative kids!

#3 July 4th T-shirts

Your kids will truly feel so proud concerning parade day once they are sporting ones own patriotic designs! Begin with a white, red-colored, or blue t-shirt. Use the same tones of acrylic application. You can use standard singer acrylic paint or simply specialty fabric car paint. First, use what you may have. Acrylic color does not come out of garmets, so you are all establish there. Buy star-shaped stamps OR in case you have star shaped dessert cutters you can use some of those by painting this edges. They can work with their fingerprints for making fun designs. Allow them have for it. Watch ones own desire to control your experience. Let it get ALL their own mission. People will know that your "little artist" is wearing a classic design and you will be the sole with the "gold star" by your name!

#4 Splatter Paint Bed furniture Set

If you have teenagers around the 8-12 vary, they will think that you're so "cool" to be able to let them make it happen. It may feel distressing, but just take your deep breath along with remember that it is info on fueling your youngsters' inspired minds!

Make use of any set of old/new solid-colored or whitened sheets. Mix some parts acrylic coloring to one part liquid in the individual yogurt cup size container. This will thin your acrylic so the covers are still comfy in the long run. Lay the bedding out on the lawn, away from the house, together with let the kids generate their inner "Jackson Pollock"! Let the bed sheets dry in the sun's light, wash, and allow the KIDS make their particular new beds! To relax after this task, treat yourself to your creative retreat and additionally tap your OWN inner-Pollock.

#5 Kids ENJOY Birds!

Make a parrot feeder. You can buy a good wooden bird feeder at a craft retail outlet, make a temporary feeder with a shoe pack, or other proverbial box, or salvage a well used bird feeder and allow it a new lifestyle. Paint it along with acrylic paint and old house application that you already have. Glue found objects into it, glitter, bottle hats, buttons, those colourful erasers hanging around because of goody-bags... you get a picture. Anything comes! Brainstorm with your small children about what you could develop into a bird feeder. See how many recommendations you could come up with... a classic shoe, a use jug, a peanut butter jar which has a wire handle to hold from a tree and also hook. That bottle could also be painted by using glass paint (or acrylic paint when well), a insert attached to the side with a loop with regard to hanging, and a votive candle inserted meant for creative outdoor decoration!

The focus of of these projects is actually honestly not upon whether or not the bird feeder is still up with the fall, or if ever the paint splattered bedsheets make it to the next period, but it is about motivating and nurturing your kid's creative ability. Imagination is a "21st One hundred year Skill" and more imperative than ever for our country wide and global wealth. If we are never raising creative young people, who is going to construct all of the solutions?