#the other broken leg ? amelia - | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 2 months

Text

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, glimpse of angst, fluff, humor, strangers to friends/roommates to lovers, a bit of back and forth

word count: 4.2k

cherry here!...and it all comes crashing down.

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 5

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

For years, you spent time behind a screen, mindlessly running after Eleanor with a notepad, messy hair sticking out like a madwoman. It must’ve been quite the sight for your fellow colleagues. A constant cycle of proving yourself to others—to your own fucking parents—that what you were doing was going to be all worth it at the end. It was only right that you were utterly exhausted.

Now suddenly, there’s this boy. He has the prettiest watercolor eyes you’ve even had the pleasure of admiring, the cutest dimples, a charming nose, most feathery lashes, pinkest lips, and above all; a heart of gold. You’ve been thrown the toughest battles—the kind you would’ve fought alone if it weren’t for Amelia and Roman—but the universe has rewarded you.

In the span of a month, Charles has completely won you over. From his boyish grin to his dominating smirk. There was just something about him that fell into place with you; like a puzzle piece. The Monegasque never failed to make you feel giddy all over, butterflies soaring freely inside your stomach.

Only now, there were a different type of eyes lurking back at you. Livid, you almost flinched at the thought of them turning red. Resentful, the kind you only thought you knew. Broken, like the glass plate laying at your feet.

But the worst had to be the betrayal, written all over them.

And you knew at that moment. This was the last and only summer.

“Wouldn’t it be scary if I just zip down because a shark bit my leg?” you ponder, gently threading through the tides. The green eyed boy tilts his head in amusement. If he hadn’t taken the time to understand your wild imagination, or dark humor, then he would’ve rolled his eyes and yawned. Instead, he slowly nudges your calf, lighthearted, droplets sliding down his face.

“Not so much as scary, but rather impossible. Sharks don’t swim near the Amalfi Coast.” You nod, though there’s a skeptical aura that lingers as you fix your snorkel. The brunette sneaks a loving glance, taking in your rosy state, scrunched nose when you swallow a gallon of sea salt water. He laughs. “You should keep an eye out for jellyfish, eh. Now those are a problem.”

“Jellyfishes and I are friends. They would never intentionally hurt me. C’mon, let's go back.”

The day had started early. Four fucking a.m. The Monegasque had hurled you out of bed, declaring that time was running out and he needed to spend all of it with you. The day prior, he had promised he would always text, call, and visit. It made your heart flutter and pounce all at the same time.

Hence, snorkeling. It was a fun and quick activity, so naturally you agreed with a killer pout as you squinted at the bright sun, despite it being the crack of dawn. Signaling to a glimmery oyster, you excitedly nod when he makes his way over. Once you reach the surface again, you clap with delight. “Can you open it for me?”

He doesn’t answer, but rather focuses his attention on snapping it wide. You can feel your eyes shimmer at the sight, an electrifying pearly white. Almost greedily, you pinch it in between your fingers, bringing it up to parade. “That is absolutely stunning. Oh my God, do you think I could turn it into a ring?”

His lips curl. “I’d say so.”

After that, you both settle into a comfortable silence. The sun was blazing hot at this point, and still there was a breeze. Just when your face would start to dry up, you would dip back in and beam at the Monegasque. He grins, crinkles, hugging the corner of his eyes. He allows himself to swoon when you wink up at the rays of sunshine. “So, I was thinking…”

“Mhm,” you murmur, orbs trained on your newly prize possession.

Nerves fill the brunette’s veins, sharp hands gently massaging his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. You furrow your brows, cocking your head to the side. Is everything alright? Charles sheepishly smiles. “Well, I, uh, was wondering…” He trails off when your lips wobble, hinting that you knew what this was all leading up to. “Would you like to go out on a date? With me,” he adds shyly.

“You were kind enough to seek me a gem,” you hum. “I would love to, Charles.”

“Wonderful,” he sighs in relief. “I-I-I know we sort of skipped a couple steps a few days ago,” he stutters anxiously. Your cheeks burn up at the reminder of him in between your legs. “So— but—I’m definitely glad that we’re able to—ouch!” he yelps in pain, teeth gritting. You fill up with panic, frantically eyeing the clear water.

“What? What?” you urge. “It’s a shark, isn’t it? I knew they would find a way!” The 26 year old barely had a chance to fill you in on what was really going on, but couldn’t really do much when you zoom out, popping the pearl into your mouth safely, floppy arms threading fast to the point that they became sore.

“There’s no—oh my word.” He grimaces, a painful expression mapped out as he, too, follows you out as quickly as he can. As he limps over to you, you scream, shiny jewel falling straight onto the ground.

“Charles, Charles, Charles.” Your stomach drops, fingers jittery, “There’s a jellyfish wrapped around your ankle…”

“You’re all caught up,” he grunts. “Get it off!”

You squeal when he lifts his leg up at you. “I can’t! Can’t you kick it off or something?”

He clenches his jaw, heavy pants filling the air. “And risk getting stung again? No, thank you. I drive for a living! I need this thing off.” He flings his leg and the transparent sea-creature disconnects, landing straight into the water. He stares back astonished and you simply laugh loudly and maniacally. You did it! “Yes, now pee on it.”

“Oh—hell no. What is this? A kink of yours?” Your nose scrunches up with clear disgust, as if you just caught a whiff of a baby’s diaper. Charles scowls. It’s supposed to help—do you think I want to do this? You gag, adamantly shaking your head. “No, no, I’ve read about this! We can add vinegar!” Briskly grabbing your essentials, you grip his wrist, already dragging him to his car.

He tears up—though, denies it—almost kicks you, and groans like a baby, but survives his injury. “Better?” Barely. Washing your hands, you share a stern glare. “At home remedies. Godsend.” He sulks deeper into his seat, wet hair trapping his face. Once you dry your hands, you plop down next to him, pecking his lips. “Grump.”

A beady eye pops open before snapping back shut. “I’d like to see you get stung.” You gasp theatrically, playfully swatting his shoulder. He chuckles, hauling you atop of him. You almost giggle like a teen, but manage to tune it out. “How ‘bout our date?”

“How about you rest? Cha, we can go out tomorrow.”

His bright eyes dim. “But we only have a few days left…”

Your mood comes crashing down as well, downcast eyes flickering like fireflies. “Then I should get ready, no?” His lips turn upward. “Meet me by the door in fifteen.”

It’s a rush, digging through your suitcase, trying to find the perfect dress, the perfect flats. You lose a good chunk of hair as you comb through it, due to the salty water, but manage. You briskly fly through your makeup routine, slather your body with perfume and lotion, and dash back downstairs, finding him already standing there.

Charles was at edge up until that moment. His tenseness slips away as soon as he sees you, looking as beautiful as ever. There’s a harsh tan going on, but even that makes you all the more breathtaking. He’s not too bad himself and you know it when you blush. From his linen navy blue shirt to his denim jeans, you swoon.

“You smell like honey,” he stammers. “You look lovely.”

“Grazie.” A beat. “You got a few new ones.”

He’s generally a cool guy, but you always strike him with some type of new feeling. He burns up, softly grazing his nose where a few freckles pop up. “That always happens when I’m out in the sun for too long. Ready?” You purse your lips, skipping towards him.

When you were eight, you had your first date. You suppose that really depends on how you see it. You mother had tried to become friends with a few ladies from the local book club and you always found yourself tagging along. Obligated, more so. His name was Joey and he had two missing teeth, so every time he spoke, a lisp would come through. It made you giggle cutely as you would lick your melted ice cream off your forearm. Eventually, your mother felt the right to storm out, pulling you away, and you never saw or heard of him again.

At eighteen, you had your last. You should've known from his name alone. James. He was tall, blond, a complete know-it-all, but he had noticed you. The crush slowly died the moment his eyes trailed to the next pretty girl, and the next, and the next.

Now, you’re mid-twenties and this feels like the right choice. He isn’t missing a row of teeth, he buys you ice cream and never once rushes you, he’s tall and proud, and has a set of chocolate curls. Most importantly, he has eyes for you and only you. It was as sweet as it could get.

“Can I ask you something?” Charles raises a brow, humming along. Twirling your pasta against the metal fork, you prop your chin on your palm. “What were you doing that day at the beach? Where we first met.”

Crimson red slashes his already burnt face as he chokes on his wine. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your perspective over me.” He drums his long fingers. “I was taking a nap.”

“Oh, well, I know that, but you were basically a goner!” You teasingly whistled. “I’m a curious little monkey, so please, enlighten me.”

The Monegasque tsks, relaxing his wide shoulders. He circles the restaurant instantly before leaning in across the table. “That day I was feeling particularly stressed. I was dealing with a lot of things and I don’t remember much after that. Except when a friend gave me a so-called magic potion.” He takes a sip to fix his dry throat. “Oh it did wonders, I tell you.” Absolute wonders, he mouths.

Your eyes widen. “Like…drugs?” you hiss, bewildered at the possibility. He cringes and nods, floppy hair bouncing. Your mouth forms a silent O, then nibble on your bottom lip, letting go. “I didn’t take you for a—”

“Me either.” You hear the sound of plates crashing down as you flinch and you both turn your attention to the apologetic waiter. The older couple look pissed, bitterly curse out the poor man, and blink as if they weren’t the vulgar ones. Charles rolls his eyes, then sighs. “I don’t think I could ever understand people like that.”

“Ruthless?”

��Took the words right out of my mouth. It’s ugly. Makes them look so out of touch with reality, which I suppose is true.” Green eyes flicker to the waiter once again before getting up to help. Tonight is really only the first time he’s gone out without his supposed disguise, so it’s obviously made your stomach flip at the thought of someone recognizing him.

Which they do.

“Charles Leclerc?” The accent is thick—and clearly Italian—as they step closer, phone already whipping out. The brunette turns, a lopsided smile drawn. “Holy shit! It’s really you! Can I please have a picture?” After a few minutes of chatter, the Monegasque excuses himself from the group, looking a bit suffocated.

“Being tackled in public? That’s what stresses you out, right?” His breath gets caught in his throat, but doesn’t make a move to shut the claim down. He answers by turning his attention to his lap. You sigh. “What did you take and who gave it to you?”

“You probably don’t even know him—Daniel. He’s quite the man, knows lots of people, and thought it would help. It did. Coke. I-it was my first and only try, I promise.”

You release a further breath. “You’re old enough to know your wrongs from rights. I trust you.” He eases up. “Doesn't mean you should rely on that.”

Charles looks up with a frown. “I feel like a fucking scumbag. I mean, does it make me a bad person to dread meeting fans sometimes? They’re always supporting me—it’s the least I could do.”

“You’re only human, Cha. You have your good and bad days. They would understand.” He shrugs, smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you remember what you told me that day you cooked that godforsaken meal?”

He nips the air. “You said it was delicious!”

You snicker, glad to see his humor coming back. “I lied. No, but you told me I had to stop pleasing everyone around me. Focus on myself. You said that. And I advise you to do the same.”

He’s heard this countless times. With Charlotte, which he only tuned out angrily, blaming her for not understanding his duties. Carlos, narrating how he of all people should understand. Pierre, smacking his head before walking away, already annoyed that too many people had tried to help, how he got called out on repeat. But with you, he simply nodded, somewhat agreeing. Not completely, but enough. That itself was a lot when it came to him and his stubbornness. Something inside of him told him he would do whatever you asked him to. It was a scary—liberating—feeling.

The last time he felt this was with…

A wave of realization slithers across his features. Charlotte. That last person he felt this familiar feeling was for Charlotte. And even then, their relationship felt foolish compared to anything he’s ever felt for you. There were sparks flying when you fluttered your doe eyes back at him, when you called him out on anything he does with a witty sense of humor…

He’s been fucked ever since the tiny ballerina kissed the hot-headed Stormtrooper.

“My words of wisdom are pretty clever,” he voices, smirking. “You’re right. I should focus more on myself.” Pause. “Thank you. For everything. For taking the time to get to know me. Not many bother these days.”

You want to cry at the gratitude written all over his handsome face, the sound of his disbelief, like a kid who genuinely thought they’d be picked last for a game of tag.

“You're very important to me, Charles.” You gently take his large hand into your smaller one. He stiffens. “You won’t ever forget that, right?”

“Not even if I try, no.” Then he presses a warm kiss onto your skin, and you feel him smile against it. “Anything you say or do would take me forever to overlook, to erase.” More pressure expands through your already firm chest, ragged breaths. “Something tells you’re a once in a lifetime type of person. How could I ever let that slip away?”

You excuse yourself in a flash, tears threatening to spill after his touch felt words. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more two-faced, he somehow squeezes your heart around his fist, and you deserve every ounce of shame, of guilt.

After a round of paper towels that you dab as harsh as soft Kleenex, you force a bright smile in the mirror, shooting a quick thumbs up and storming back out to your date.

The 26 year old was concerned about the hazy interaction, perturbed eyes blinking as you got up as if you had just seen the Devil himself, unbeknownst that you felt like one. He’s left anxiously waiting, tapping his shoes against the shiny tiles, leg bouncing up and down with anticipation. Cursing underneath his breath, he stands up and makes his way to the women's restroom. He receives a few baffled glances when he bolts down the hallway.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelp, finding Charles right in front of you when you swing the door open. His green eyes narrow like knives, carefully analyzing your pink nose, red rimmed eyes. “You scared me—”

“What did they say to you?”

You frown. “What are you talking about?”

His hands make their way up to cradle your face, thumbs grazing your temples. You raise a neat brow. “Did anyone follow you? See you? Were they rude? My fans aren’t normally like this, I promise they’re sweet, but if they did anything to you, I swear to God—”

Instantly shaking your head, you let out a nervous giggle. “No one said anything, don’t worry. I just really had to pee. Promise.”

This is what he was most afraid of when he first opened up to you, to go out in public. Charles was terrified at the image of your privacy being invaded, much like his. For hurtful words or actions to be aimed at you. And then you blink up at him with a sour expression because he knows you just cried, he obviously grew protective. Leaning down, he meekly kisses your forehead. “What’s wrong then? You hate me that much?” he jokes.

You bite back a smile. “Something like that. How about we go somewhere dear to us?”

Added to the torment of what you were feeling, you didn’t think things could get any worse—and yet.

Today. By today. Get it done.

Aghast, your delicate fingers come up to your berry lips, pinching at them nervously before biting down on your thumb, re-reading Eleanor’s message. Friday. You originally had until Friday. It’s only Wednesday. Sure, only a forty-eight hour difference, but still. You wanted to hold onto the most valuable time possible if you could. You try convincing her to change her mind, but it was a worthless battle. You knew once she had her mind set on it, then that’s exactly what had to happen.

By today.

You’re sobbing, panting, your vision is blurry as you type on your phone, angry as you fiddle against the tiny screen. Who could you really be mad at? Eleanor? No. Charles? No. The universe? Tempting, but no. It was all you. If you hadn’t mentioned having a possible exclusive for the sake of saving your job, then you wouldn’t be tangled in this mess.

You can’t go down that way, it’s ladies only!

I’m terribly sorry, but I have to check on my wife.

You recognize his urgent voice, deep and raw. His words aren’t true, but it fucks you up just the same. Hurrying to slip your phone back inside your purse, you quickly fix your appearance before opening the wide door, finding Charles mid-knock.

“Jesus Christ. You scared me.”

“Back where we started,” the green eyed boy chirps when he spots the tiny pub that sits atop of the hill. “It feels as if we were just here yesterday. This is fantastic.”

“I didn’t think you loved it that much,” you poke fun, bumping your hip against his. His watercolor eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment, then focusing back at the old shed.

“Things can surely change in the span of a month.”

The implication was as clear as daylight, but it only flew past your head as you enthusiastically ran up, smiling back at him. Nico is still there, serving drinks with a cheshire grin, when he spots you. “I remember you! How have you been, cara mia? Is Italy treating you well enough?”

You buzz, tippy toeing as you sheepishly try to spot the main reason you came back. “Oh, definitely. I think I might stay. Do you, um, happen to have—”

“Got it right here,” he says, gloved hand wrapping around the familiar liquid. You blush, ordering a round—bottle—and making your way back to the Monegasque. As soon as the tray hits your table, he throws a dubious stare, thanking the older man. “Huge fan, Mr. Leclerc.” He extends his Ferrari merch with a timid grin. “Do you mind?”

Charles returns the warm smile. “Not at all.” He signs away sloppily, but professionally. Nico zooms cheerfully, eager to boast out to his co-workers. You giggle. Very nice, very nice. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Does my kind gesture get me a kiss?”

“We’ll see,” you mumble, looking away before he spots your pink cheeks.

He sighs dramatically. “Do you really think it’s for the best if you drink this crap again? Do you remember the last time you had a sip?”

“I’ll go easy. This shit is good.” Throwing your head back, you gulp down the sweet alcoholic drink, eyes squeezing tightly before you huff. “Exactly. Try some.” The brunette does, but steady, a careful eye always lingering onto you. You don’t get drunk this time—rather tipsy. You tell yourself it's because you don’t want to wake up with a killer headache tomorrow, but you know that’s far from the truth. It’s simple. You just didn’t want to forget the last moments you had with him.

His adoration would only last so long.

Clicking your phone open, you clumsily had it over to him. Record me. He huffs, but amusement colors his orbs. “Here we go again…” You snicker playfully, marching over to the lady at the piano. You’re back, she pronounces.

“I am.” You laugh. “Do you happen to play guitar?”

She shakes her head sadly before lighting up. “But Nico does. Nico!” she screams as the man rushes over. “You play song for pretty girl standing right here?” Volentieri, he chirps, looking for his rusty instrument. After a bit of discussion, you twirl back, walking to the center stage.

“I can still recall, our last summer. I still see it all.” Charles laughs, throwing his head back like a little kid as he reminds himself to keep your phone steady. “Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain. Our last summer, memories that remain.”

The guitar is a lone act, but fills up the room as if there were a band. Occasionally, the keys of the broken piano fill the room as you smile gently. From the way you dance to the way you smile, Charles lives for every moment, taking in your happiness.

You should have seen the foreshadowing. The song. The plates that crashed during dinner. The stare. It was all laying right out in front of you, and you stupidly chose to ignore it until it was too late.

“Our last summer, walking hand in hand…” You trail off the moment his eyes turn dark, furrowing to the screen then back to you, as if trying to come up with a possible explanation. He stands up abruptly, chair squeaking so loud that everyone’s heads turn to look. “No,” you whisper in disbelief when he walks out, leaving you like an open love letter.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Flying down the stairs, you trip a couple of times, concerned glances shared between Nico and the older lady. None of it matters as you run after Charles.

Anger must give you wings because he’s long gone when you reach the open air. Dirt crunches underneath your heels as you desperately try to catch a sign that he’s around. When he’s not, you instantly call a cab, rudely directing him to your shared Airbnb.

He loves you; he's sure of it the moment you tuck a strand of hair behind your jeweled ear, slightly hesitant as you try to refresh Nico’s mind over what song you wanted. He even practices a few strings before winking over at you.

He knows it the moment you reach a certain note that makes your voice crack, smiling shyly, giggling through your singing.

And you loved him all too late.

Draft is perfect. Green light, publish it. We can talk about your promotion when you get back. Congratulations. Hard work really does pay off.

He recognizes the name as soon as it blares across your screen, still recording you, spinning across the stage without a care in the world. He feels inanely invasive when he clicks on the email, but pushes the feeling away with the fact that this appeared to be good news, and was there really any harm to that?

Charles Leclerc: The Man Behind the Helmet.

He reads through, spotting your name swiftly.

Sat down with him…

High on the beach—a desperate tactic to release some much needed stress during the off season…

Golden pin, prancing horse. Gifted from the late, Hervé Leclerc…

Fearful of what’s to come once Hamilton enters the picture later in 2025…

He’s skimming but it’s enough for him to wonder if he’s experiencing true headache right now. Your voice cuts off, turning pale as you blink back at him. Fury enters his veins as he storms out, not caring about what you must think. He hears you chasing after him, but manages to climb into the first cab he sees.

What he hates the most is that he still feels like a complete idiot for leaving you behind. For marching out without a single word.

For being so stupid.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire @alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar

298 notes · View notes

tvseries-writings · 3 months

Text

We care about you

Maya x Carina x reader (Amelia is reader’s bff)

Prompt: Reader has a car crash with Carina’s car and she feels so guilty that she refuses to go to the hospital and it’s not the best choice.

TW: car crash, seizure

When you open your eyes, your first thought does not go to the probable concussion you gave yourself, nor to the poor light pole you knocked down. No, your concern becomes the car: the Carina's very expensive and beautiful Porsche that you have just crumpled against a stupid pole that you could very well have avoided, had the road not been wet. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the driver's door, yours, suddenly opening.

"Miss, miss can you hear me? Y/n?"

Vic's face appears in front of you, and as soon as he notices it's you, her gaze changes from a calm and placid one to one quite panicked.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to call Maya and Carina?"

Vic unbuckles your belt, intimating you to stay still while she checks you over. She feels your legs, asking if you can feel them. You nod. By the feel of the pain in your ribs, you probably have one or two cracked if not broken ribs, blood is pouring out of your nose since the airbag exploded in your face, and most likely the deep cut on your forehead indicates a more serious concussion than you would have liked but you don't care. The only thing you care about is the car, and right now you really have no other concerns besides.

"Were other people involved?"

"No, just a poor pole. But I don't think it will complain. We need to get you to Grey's Sloan. Montgomery, Warren! Give me a hand, we-"

"No."

Relief floods you as soon as Vic confirms that no one else besides you was involved in the accident. You know full well that it could have been worse, yet you refuse to go to the hospital, you won't let anyone waste time because of your stupid mistake. Carina's car...you destroyed it, the Italian loves that car and you literally crumpled it for her.

"Y/n, you know you have to go to the hospital. Maya and Carina would kill me if they knew I didn't take you to the hospital...please don't make me carry you or call them."

You shake your head, immediately regretting it as soon as you do when a twinge in your head makes you squint in pain.

"No, Carina is going to kill me as soon as she sees what I've done to her car..Vic, you don't understand. She loves this car more than anything, she went to pick it out with Andrew as soon as she got to Seattle-" a sob involuntarily escapes your mouth as your body is shaken as more follow. Tears line your cheeks and though you want to stop them, you really don't have the strength.

"Y/n, Carina loves you more than a stupid car...she won't care if-"

"No Vic, you don't understand, I don't want to go to the hospital, please, please, I can't look at Carina and tell her that I destroyed one of the things that reminded her of her brother. Please Vic, take me home, don't take me to Grey's Sloan. Please."

You plead with her and see her struggling internally with herself, even turning a glance over her shoulder where Ben and Travis, having heard it all, are struggling in the same dilemma as she is. Then, Vic shakes his head and you decide that you have just chosen which battle to fight, at least for the next few minutes.

"I'm sorry y/n but we need to get you checked out and Grey's Sloan is the closest. I'm really sorry."

You shake your head, tears continue copiously to line your face, and the adrenaline slowly begins to fade, making your head feel lighter and your chest feel heavier.

"No Vic, this is not your choice. I am conscious and aware of my actions, legally you have no right to transport me anywhere unless I have harmed other people."

You use your best lawyerly tone, the same tone you use in the courtroom and see them exchange a look and then nod.

"You're right, legally we can't force you but we can call Maya and Carina, y/n."

You grit your teeth; this was an option you had not calculated but, instead, you come up with an idea that is better than the others and will probably save you from going to the hospital. As they say, if Muhammad does not go to the mountain then the mountain will go to Muhammad.

....................................................................................................................

"Thank you for coming."

Amelia shakes her head, a look of disapproval quite legible on her face.

"Well, when your best friend as well as roommate for a good six years of college calls you and tells you she's been in an accident, it's hard not to check in on her."

You smile at her, and before you can try to speak, she's asking you rapid-fire questions.

"Have you lost consciousness? Have you had any dizziness? Altered vision?"

Amelia pulls a small light from the breast pocket of the lab coat she is still wearing before pointing it in your eyes.

"I'm fine," you close your eyes, instinctively turning away from that blinding light.

"Mm yeah, no. You're not all right. Now be still and stop saying you're fine."

Amelia holds your head still, probing multiple places for some kind of bump and glancing at the gash on your forehead.

"This cut needs stitches and you need a CT scan. Oh and you still haven't answered my questions, don't think I forgot."

When Vic notices that you don't answer, she does it for you.

"When we arrived she was unconscious and was unconscious for about three minutes while we were there and soon after she recovered she had trouble recognizing me so I wouldn't rule out visual changes."

Ladies and gentlemen, the traitorous bastard Victoria Hughes.

"Hospital, now. No discussion. I remind you that between the two of us, I am the doctor and also one of the best."

You sigh, shaking your head a few times or at least trying to, as Amelia holds you firmly in place.

"I don't even think about it Amelia, not-"

You stop suddenly, a high-pitched ringing in your ears not allowing you to hear whatever Amelia is saying and then, your pupils rotate back and your body is suddenly shaken by convulsions and everything goes dark.

....................................................................................................................

It is Amelia who takes you to the hospital, with Warren by your side as they check your vitals all the way to Grey's Sloan while Vic and Travis brush all speed limits in order to get their captain's girlfriend and great friend to the hospital as quickly as possible.

After administering Diazepam, fortunately the seizures have stopped and Amelia is squeezing your hand, as if to let you know she is with you.

"Everything will be fine, stay with me y/n. It's all right okay? It's all right. I'm here, I'm here with you."

In less than five minutes, your unconscious body is quickly brought through the doors of the emergency room at Grey's Sloan.

"Female, 25 years old, car accident. Unconscious for three minutes, probable head injury. She had a seizure episode before entering the ambulance; diazepam was administered. She has been stable ever since."

Vic says, before leaving you in the hands of Dr. Teddy Altman, who rolls her eyes as soon as she recognizes the woman lying on the stretcher.

"Y/n? Do Amelia, Maya, and Carina know?"

The neurosurgeon sighs, shaking her head and slipping on gloves and a sterile gown to carefully examine how severe your head injury is.

"Damn it, Schmitt, call Dr. DeLuca. Warren, alert your captain. I can't believe you guys didn't say anything, those two will kill you."

Warren swallows before nodding and pulling out his phone.

"What was I supposed to do? This idiot didn't want to and I remind you she's a lawyer, she knows her rights very well. We need to do a CT scan on her, Schmitt did you reserve the room?"

"Y-yes Dr. Shepard and Dr. DeLuca is coming. I told her that her partner had been in a car accident but I didn't have time to tell her that she was okay that she had already shut me down."

Teddy pinches her nose between her index finger and thumb, sighing in exasperation.

"Schmitt, did you even check that she wasn't operating?"

The resident looks at her embarrassed before shaking his head.

"No ma'am, I-"

The boy doesn't have time to finish the sentence that a worried Italian doctor enters the emergency room, nearly bursting through the doors.

"Where is she? Is she okay? Teddy tell me she is fine-"

The Italian woman suddenly stops, noticing only then your pale, unconscious body on the crib in front of the two doctors and the resident.

Caria quickly approaches you, stroking your forehead and being careful not to graze the cut before turning to Amelia as they move to the exam room to have you scanned. "What happened?"

Although she is addressing the neurosurgeon, her eyes do not leave your figure, and her hand does not detach from yours.

"She lost control of the car and drove into a light pole, the airbags deployed, which caused her to have a massive nosebleed, and a head injury. She had a seizure episode before we brought her in."

Carina gasps as she hears the last sentence.

"Has she woken up since then?"

"No."

The Italian closes her eyes, aware that this is not a good sign and praying that you have not suffered more damage than she initially expected.

As they prepare you for the CT scan, Amelia and Carina being the only ones in the room, Carina decides to ask Amelia one of the questions that came to her mind as soon as she noticed the neurosurgeon standing next to you, slightly sweaty in the face and aware of all the information from your journey from the accident site to the hospital.

"Why were you with her in the ambulance?"

"She called me; she was afraid you would be upset about the car and didn't even want to go to the hospital. She said she would report us if we took her, I doubt she would have done that and I would have done it anyway but you know, Vic and Warren weren't too keen on taking the risk. And then he called me so that they wouldn't take her to the hospital and they wouldn't call you or Maya."

Carina shakes her head as she and Amelia tuck you inside the machine, before exiting the room.

"You idiot, I don't care about the car. All I care about is that she's okay."

"I know Carina, I tried to reason with her and then...well, she had the fit. It will be fine Carina, she is a fighter. She will come back to you. She loves you too much to leave you."

Carina nods, chasing back tears as she looks at the monitors in front of her, waiting for the results of your CT scan.

The Italian gasps as she feels two powerful arms embrace her and hold her close.

"It will be okay love, Warren told me what happened. She will be fine, otherwise how could we give her a good telling off for how much she was considered?"

Maya kisses her wife's shoulder, also looking at the monitors despite not understanding anything written on them. They both sigh, looking at Amelia waiting for good news.

...........................................................................................

When you open your eyes, for the second time that day, you realize you've fucked up again. The cold white walls of the hospital room you are in are proof of that. You try to move your head to the side, to look around, but a twinge in your neck puts you off. You recognize Maya's warm grip in your right hand and the Italian's wavy hair caressing your stomach as the latter sleeps peacefully.

You give the fireman's hand a squeeze and a gentle caress to the Italian's face. Carina wakes up, crinkling her eyes and looking at you surprised, happy and worried at the same time.

"Bella, how are you feeling? Are you okay? I'll call Amelia..."

Carina speaks frantically, not even realizing she is speaking in Italian, and as she reaches toward the button to call the nurses, to the right of your bed, you fuss her wrist, turning a smile to her.

"I'm fine and before you call anyone else I...I have to tell you how sorry I am Carina. I'm so fucking sorry. I know how much you cared about that car and I'm so sorry, I wanted to try to fix it before you knew it...although I don't know if it can be fixed and-"

Carina hears the beeping sound getting louder and louder; she turns to the monitors and when she sees how fast you are breathing and your heart rate, she knows you are having a panic attack.

"Bella, love, it's okay. It's okay love, I'm not mad. I don't care about a stupid car, Andrea will always stay in my heart; I care about you, Bella. The car will buy back but you worth more than anything, do you understand?"

You keep breathing fast; the throbbing pain in your head does not allow you to think clearly, and unfortunately, Carina's words come to you so muffled that they have no effect on you.

The chaos around you makes Maya suddenly wake up; it takes the blond firefighter a few seconds to figure out what is going on and to join his wife in trying to drag you out of the panic attack.

The blond climbs onto the bed, sitting right behind you and holding you in her arms despite you trying with all your might to free yourself. Carina, on the other hand, kneels in front of you, taking your hands in her own.

"It's okay love, it's okay. Breathe, listen to my heartbeat" Maya whispers in your ear, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"Follow my breath Bella; that's it, good, keep it up."

In less than ten minutes, the incessant sound that resonated in the hospital room is replaced by a soft, steady BIP. Your chest hurts and you rub it hard, to ease your pain, before a hand forces you to stop.

"Hey, hey, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up. Do you want me to call a nurse to give you something?"

You nod, closing your eyes and waiting for the nurse to arrive. Carina reaches out to press the button before immediately returning to hold your hands. Maya continues to leave kisses on your neck and face as you continue to keep your eyes closed.

Contrary to what you expected, it is not a nurse who enters the room but Amelia.

"Hey rock star, you're awake. What's wrong? Do you have a headache? Dizziness?"

You nod, opening your eyes and looking into her eyes. A small smile ripples your lips as your best friend walks over to your bed and hugs you.

"You had me worried idiot."

The neurosurgeon pulls away from the hug before giving you a weak punch on your right arm.

"I'm sorry."

Amelia shakes her head as she sticks something into your IV.

"This is a painkiller, not too strong but it should ease your pain. Call me if there is any problem. I'll be back later to check how your head is; I know you have a hard head but it's always best to be cautious."

Before you can even insult her for the joke she just made, Amelia sneers her way out of the room.

"What an idiot," you shake your head, rolling your eyes. Your body begins to relax as the medication kicks in.

"So will you tell us why you didn't go to the hospital right away? You know how dangerous a head injury can be and you still decided to not go to the hospital right away. It was stupid and reckless and you can't, you CANNOT do that with your health. Ever again."

Maya looks at you sternly, with her ‘’Captain's look’’, as you and Carina call it.

"I'm sorry Maya, I know you are angry and I understand why but my only thought was only the car and the fact that I had destroyed one of the things Andrew had given Carina."

Maya holds you close and Carina joins your embrace.

"No physical thing or not, none, will ever be worth as much as your life y/n. And don't ever have a seizure over it again, am I clear? A car will never be worth as much as you are to you and me, ever. I don't care if I have to throw it away, I don't care if I have to buy another one. I care about you and your health so don't ever pull that crap again because if you had the crisis while you were alone, at home, after getting dropped off there, then it could have ended really badly and I, we, need you to understand that Bella."

Carina strokes your face gently; some tears line her face and you promptly wipe them away. Maya leaves a kiss on your cheek, holding you close.

"Car is right love, you really scared us today and when I think about the fact that we could have lost you I..." Maya shakes her head, her voice breaking and you turn to her, pulling her into a kiss.

"I'm sorry Maya, I'm so sorry I...I won't do it again."

You hug and hold each other tightly, you know you fucked up but now that Carina has calmed you down the relief you feel is priceless; therefore, you enjoy the embrace and that warmth you love so much as the medication slips you back into sleep.

Thank you so much for reading! Sorry, I know it is not the best so excuse me… I will try to improve. Have a great day!

Support me on ko-fi

Taglist: @mmmmokdok @blackhill2245 @melatonindaydreamz @foggytidalwavefun @sevnheaven @budoxinha @gayshyandreadytocry @lighthousekiller @m456300 @blitzar-3 @in-love-with-heda @idontknownemore @lesbianbabe @speedup500 @differentranchempathfestival @mebeingthatbitch @jemilyswife @yuleni18 @darkstar225 @whyamihere2673 @your-my-mission @finca-lotr @coollemonsaresour @nuianced-tck-enby @fishlikestuff @ktstwice @idontknowhowtogay @liladoesfanfics @maria-403 @kawaiitoga @razorscooteer

330 notes · View notes

veryberryjelly · 2 months

Text

not one hair outta place

married at first strike - 0.0 the hen do

jamie tartt x fem!reader [ 0.9k ]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

You rubbed your palms along your legs as the car neared closer and closer to the destination you could spot on your driver’s gps.

A mantra repeated in your head like a broken record.

‘I’m ready for this’

You hadn’t been the one to come up with this idea. One of your friends had sent you the link to the applications and at the time you thought it couldn’t hurt.

There was no way you’d get chosen out of thousands of applicants.

And when you got that email that your application had been moved to the next stage of the process, you were sure you wouldn’t get through any more stages.

But now you were here. Sat in the back of a car on the way to a hen party.

When the car stopped you took in a shuddering breath and opened up the back door, thanking the driver before approaching the open doors.

You heard voices.

You weren’t the first one here.

Another deep breath, one more step and you were met with a wave of cheers and welcomes as one of the other girls approached you.

“ hi, sweetheart. You look so good ! “ the redhead exclaimed as she wrapped you in a quick hug.

“ Thank you, you look incredible too. I’m y/n “

“ Amelia. Can I get you some bubbly ?”

“ absolutely “

You followed her over to the small bar table where 10 glasses of champagne rested alongside two ice buckets.

You were very quickly introduced to the rest of the girls in the room, greeting each and every one of them with a smile and a compliment about their outfit, because they all looked fantastic.

As more women flooded in, you fell into a conversation with the group, learning why all of these beautiful, intelligent and successful women needed the help of experts to find someone.

A round of gasps pulled you from your conversation, causing you to flinch and almost spill your drink.

You turned your gaze towards the door to find what everyone was gasping at.

“ evening, ladies “

A guy.

You didn’t know a lot about this experiment, but you were pretty sure this was a hen party.

“ oh, he must be paired with another guy on the stag night “

Oh.

He was quick to introduce himself as Oscar, and also confirmed that, yes, he was gay.

Unbeknownst to the hens, a similar thing was happening over at the stag party.

A round of confused noises spread around the room when a woman walked in amongst the men.

“ hey boys. Room for one more ?” the girl spoke.

The boys had gathered that she was the last one to enter based simply on how many men were already in the room.

A head of walnut mist turned towards the new member of the stag party.

Not what he expected.

But she was very attractive, so he figured he would try and get on side.

He stood from the seat he had gotten comfortable in and made his way over to her, a smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips.

“ Want a drink ?” he suggested, motioning towards the bar with two buckets of drinks.

“Definitely“ she replied, following him towards the bar where she stuck her hand out to shake his. “ isla “

“Jamie“ he replied, his hand slotting into hers. “ what can i get for you, isla ?” he questioned, his eyes only leaving hers to momentarily drop to scan her body when she was identifying the drink options.

“I’ll take a white wine”

Jamie was quick to fulfill her request, but not long after he placed the glass in her hand, a new voice entered the room.

“Welcome everyone, to the experiment. My name is Derek, and i’m here to help guide you all through this.”

“Welcome everyone, to the experiment. My name is Claire, and i’m here to help guide you all through this.”

Every pair of eyes was on the newcomer in the room, a woman they all identified as one of the experts.

“ enjoy your last night as single people because by this time tomorrow, you will all be married to someone chosen specifically for you “

Her sentence sent a chill down your spine. One you were sure was rooted in both fear and excitement.

“ as you’ve no doubt noticed, you are joined by one of our grooms. That is because we have two same sex couples this year “

“ as you’ve no doubt noticed, you are joined by one of our brides. That is because we have two same sex couples this year “

That had jamie’s hopes of scoring with isla dropping to the floor. He was good, but even he wouldn’t be able to score with a lesbian.

“ have a good night, everyone. This time tomorrow, you’ll be married to someone the experts have matched with you “

All that Jamie could hope for, was that his partner would be a lot easier to get with than isla. Or he may as well have just stayed in Richmond.

With that, Derek left, and the room lit up with discussion.

Primarily about which groom was into men, and where the other groom was.

The conversation was practically identical at the Hen Party. But no one chose to voice it, most likely told by the production team to keep it a secret for the sake of suspense.

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t focus on enjoying the night and getting to know the people you would be seeing a lot of over the next few weeks.

taglist ;; @rexorangecounty @jamiebigbuttedtartt @neenieweenie @drmeghanjones @kaitlyn2907 @yokolesbianism

67 notes · View notes

sirianasims · 3 months

Text

It was nice being outside in the cool night air after sitting in the stuffy room. My clothes smelled like whatever he and Kari had been smoking.

I felt a little lightheaded as well.

As we walked back to the house, Charlie told me about touring, about trying to make it big. He told me about getting into trouble and running from the police. It was still baffling to me that he could laugh about things like being arrested, like it was all a big joke to him.

He also talked a little about Samuel. It felt like he was trying not to, but couldn’t stop himself. It sounded like his feelings about Samuel were just as complicated as Samuel’s feelings about him. There was definitely the same mix of resentment and envy.

After we got back to the house and I thanked Amelia for watching the girls, Charlie followed me upstairs to get a glimpse of his nieces. They were both sleeping peacefully.

In the hallway outside their room, he turned and looked at me with those mismatched eyes, one brown, one green.

“Cute kids. I know I haven’t been much of an uncle, but I’ll meet them properly tomorrow. My brother has always been the lucky one.”

I felt the lump in my throat. Tell that to him, maybe he would be here now. Maybe he would still care.

“Is something wrong? Freya? Hey, what’s up?”

There was actual concern in his voice. A voice that sounded so much like Samuel’s, except Samuel’s voice was causing me nothing but pain lately. I felt the tears coming.

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m a mess these days. It’s just – I don’t know if Samuel and I are going to last, and…”

He put his arms around me, and I leaned into him as I tried not to cry.

It felt good.

Samuel rarely held me when I was upset, he just explained why I shouldn’t be.

Charlie lifted my chin.

“My brother has also always been a fucking idiot.”

Then he kissed me.

Hard.

Insistent.

This was nothing like Samuel’s gentle kisses, bore no resemblance to his constant restraint. Or to his complete absence lately.

My knees buckled as Charlie continued kissing my neck, his other hand slowly, deliberately, untucking my shirt.

I should have pushed him away, told him to stop.

But I didn’t.

Somehow we reached the bed.

I had never felt this wanted, this desirable. All my frustration, doubt and hesitation obliterated.

As I wrapped my legs around Charlie, I knew this was wrong, this was a disaster. But all it did was turn me on more.

Charlie demanded instead of asking, ordered instead of suggesting.

Praised instead of criticising.

I let go of everything, lost myself completely in his arms, my mind blank, my body frenzied.

He looked up at me, eyes shining in the dark, as I moved my hips furiously, my nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck. If only my perfect little brother could see what his perfect little wife is doing right now.”

His harsh words cut through me without mercy, slicing through all the ties that had ever bound me.

They say the truth will set you free.

I had spent my life running from the truth, telling myself that everything would be fine if only I could find a way to be perfect.

I guess there’s nothing as freeing as accepting that you’re just a horrible human being.

Or maybe I was just human.

Flawed.

Broken.

Never meant to be perfect.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen4 #freya duchelli #samuel ward #charlie ward #sims spice

51 notes · View notes

fivepebble · 23 days

Note

I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR HFJONE CLANGEN RUN PLEEEAAASE it looks so cool... so dramatic... so silly...

I'm still trying to stitch up the story, the generator leaves a lot of things unexplained which means I have to fill in the blanks. but here's how the beginning and first few deaths went:

Bryce is leader, Liam is deputy, Charlotte is the medicine cat, Amelia is the mediator. there's also Stella, Owen and Kylie as warriors and Airy as a kit (which was a joke based on how the fandom infantilizes him and also my attempt to prevent him from having romantic interactions with anyone, which unfortunately did not work later on when he grew up lmao)

Amelia and Charlotte were friends straight off the bat, as well as Owen and Liam, and Bryce and Stella. Airy did not get along with anyone, and he and Liam hated each other the most. I remember a particular patrol where Airy fell in a hole and Liam called him an idiot while standing by and refusing to help him. keep in mind that Airy is troublesome, which makes him annoying, but he's never actually done anything wrong at this point. Liam was generally pretty rude to everyone except Owen, but in my head I interpreted it as him not understanding social cues because usually these interactions were more him disregarding boundaries than being malicious.

In the meantime, Owen and Kylie were having a sort of swiftpaw and brightpaw arc. Owen wanted to be made deputy eventually and was constantly going out on patrol with her and looking for these dogs that they smelled on the border, and they did actually end up finding them. fortunately though they were actually able to lead the dogs away from the territory and didn't get hurt.

The first outsider we found was a cat we decided was Texty, who got hit by a car and had a pretty bad head injury. They were injured for a couple months and they developed failing eyesight as a result. In this time Owen and Charlotte got together, and Charlotte was expecting his kits.

Then the first death happened, the camp caught on fire. I don't know what caused it but I'm writing in that a bird carried in a burning branch from a wildfire nearby. Texty got caught in the medicine den and Stella returned to help them. Texty was able to get out but Stella got trapped in turn and ended up burning to death. Bryce was really fucked up about it especially and i remember that his vigil was pretty heart wrenching with him basically having to be coerced away from her body after sitting with her all night. Shit sucked.

Pretty much immediately after this, Liam got grabbed by an eagle due to the lack of cover. It eventually dropped him and he broke his leg on impact. Airy dragged him back to camp, where Charlotte was in labour, and as the only medicine cat she wasn't able to give Liam any treatment then or while recovering. His broken leg got infected and eventually killed him. Owen was grief stricken due to this and was actively neglecting his newborn kits for a while, but he did eventually recover and step up again. We called Charlotte's kits "the moldings."

Bryce made Owen deputy in Liam's place, and after having a conversation about Liam's death with Charlotte, to my surprise he stepped down and retired early. In my head he saw himself being Liam's deputy specifically, and couldn't be okay with replacing him. Kylie became a stand-in deputy after that. In the meantime we started teaching Texty to be a medicine cat so what happened with Liam wouldn't repeat itself.

wow i wrote a lot! that's all for now though.

#fptext #ask #hfjone #clangen

25 notes · View notes

slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 9 months

Text

Amelia Shepherd - God complex

originally posted on my wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Pairing: Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader

Fluff

Word count: 1.3k

!!not proofread!!

also don't question the timeline of this it's all over the place w the characters in the actual series

(reader is head of cardio at grey sloan)

Summary: Teddy returns to the hospital and get an update from Bailey and Meredith about how things work and finds out reader and Amelia are dating.

Meredith POV:

"Okay so, you need updating in anything else, because that's all the new staff and equipment we have since you were last here?" Bailey, me and Teddy were all sitting round meeting table going over all the things Teddy needs to know before going back into the hospital since it had been quite a few years.

"Okay so Derek has a sister, who's also your sister and then you found out you had another sister from your mom and the chief is her dad..?"

"Yes, basically. Was that the only thing you actually remembered?"

"No, of course not I got the whole thing but that part just really stuck out to me."

"It stuck out to all of us." Bailey said which caused us all to laugh a bit.

"Okay but seriously, this place always, always, has drama so cmon ladies give me the tea!" I was about to respond when all of our pagers went off.

"We'll duty calls, but catch me after and I'll fill you in." We both had shit eating grins on our faces as we all ran down to the ER and Bailey just rolled her eyes calling us children.

Time skip to the ER

Teddy POV:

"We got a multi-vehicle collision coming in I need all hands on deck here people!" I yelled as I walked into the ambulance bay and waited for them to come in. All the attendants and interns were out there waiting as well so I took some time to take in all the new faces.

As I was looking round a certain pair caught me eye, two attendings slightly secluded from everyone else, whispering to each other and in their own little world, smiling the biggest smiles I've seen in a while. I recognised them both as Dr Shepherd and Dr Y/l/n. Head of neurosurgery and head of Cardiothoracic surgery. I assumed they were friends and moved my attention from them as the ambulance was pulling in.

"56 year old male, major head injury, penetrating chest wound, possible cardiac tamponade, crush injuries to the torso and both legs broken!" Yelled out the paramedic.

"Okay, Shepherd, Y/l/n and Torres I need you guys with me on this one!" I called out and heard the doctors running behind me. We made it into trauma one and started saving this man.

Time skip to once they're in surgery, reader is fixing heart, Amelia is fixing the brain injury, Callie is doing the legs and Teddy is fixing the crush injuries

"Quite a crowded OR for your first day back Teddy huh?" Callie said to me.

"Yeah, it is. But you know, I think I prefer it like this in the first day back because now I can get all the updates on the hospital drama." All three women laughed and then Amelia piped up "Alex and Jo got married."

"Oh my god, no way!"

"You should see them they're so adorable together, Alex really grew up and became a good man." Callie said.

"Yeah I can tell, aw that's so sweet I'm happy for them both."

"Oh, did you hear about Amelia absolutely crushing Derek in her presentation on why she should be head of neuro and not him?" Callie added.

"No, I did not hear, please do tell."

Amelia POV:

Callie is talking about how my speech was so good and blah blah but I just can't stop looking at my gorgeous girlfriend. She's so cute in her scrub hat, it's blue and had little yellow ducks on it, and she's got her concentrated face in which makes it even more adorable.

"Amelia..? Amelia.., Dr Shepherd!?" Callie said pulling me out my thoughts. "Huh, wha- oh yeah, uhm thank you, really thanks means a lot." I stammered, embarrassed I had been caught staring. I knew I had been see. because before I looked at Callie she winked at me and I could just tell under that mask she a shit eating grin plastered in her face.

"Mmhhmmm." Callie said very over-dramatically.

"Shut up." I mumbled, Callie just laughed and carried on her little gossip session with Teddy. By this point I had finished my part of the surgery so I was scrubbing out but before I left I went over to y/n which caused Callie and Teddy to slow and quiet down their chat just a little bit so they could see what was going to happen.

I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist and put my head in her shoulder no one said anything A: because they were all scared of us and B: because she was almost finished anyway, just suturing the guy back together. "Hey once you're done closing wanna go get some coffee?" I asked her casually. "I'd love to." she leaned back into me slightly as she had just finished the last stitch to close the man up. "Hey, how your knee?" I asked her. Y/n injured her knee while on a run so it's a little painful for her to stand for too long. "No I'm fine, don't worry." At this point she had taken off her gown and gloves and we walked out to the scrubbing area and started washing our hands. Once we were done we walked out to the coffee cart and got some.

On the way back we saw Callie, Meredith, Maggie, Bailey, Teddy, Alex, Jo and Arizona in the attending's lounge and decided to go and

join them. When we're about to go in we heard Meredith say something about us being together and then Teddy said "Yeah I kinda guessed that one but are they not like, insufferable? Not because of PDA but because let's be honest out all the surgeons here cardio and neuro, especially if they're head of the department which both of them are, they're both the most likely to have a major god complex surely?" We were broth a bit taken aback when we heard this so decided to ease drop a little longer. "No actually you'd be surprised, they balance each other out perfectly and they're adorable so it's like a win win, they keep each other from screaming at interns and thinking their better than everyone and that they can do anything and we get a cute couple." Everyone in the room laughed at that and we were both happy that Meredith jumped to our defence immediately. She is Amelia's sister but she is like my sister as well. After that we decided to go in.

"Hey guys." and "Hello" were said from every angle as we walked in. After that we kinda just carried on with updating Teddy and general conversation amongst all of us.

As it got later in the evening (the surgery took up most of the shift) y/n started to get a little tired so instinctively she wrapped her arms around me and put her head in the crook of my neck. "You okay there?" I ask her and just get a tired hum in response. At this point hushed conversation is still going on but most attention is on us as people started teasing us for being "so sweet".

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." I said in response to all the teasing. "Can we go home now? Shifts over." I hear my girlfriend say, her voice slightly muffled because of her head being nestles into my neck. "Yeah cmon let's go home." We bid everyone a good night and headed home to a night full of cuddles and movies.

#amelia shepherd #wlw #wlw fanfic #sapphic #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfiction #lesbian pride #lesbian #wlw pride #amelia shepard #amelia shepard x reader

72 notes · View notes

fermented-writers-block · 10 months

Text

I’m sure this has been thought about before, but man does it interest me how One-One’s mechanics work.

One as we see him from Book 4 didn’t have the split eyes that One-One has, and presumably only had the four legs as One-One normally has. But with the ability to split himself as One-One, both halves somehow get a second pair of legs that more or less seem to come from nowhere to have a total of eight legs between Sad-One and Glad-One. And on top of that, the intersection of their hemispheres is completely flush and white colored, which is it’s own bag of weirdness.

I mean, if we extrapolate from from the concept storyboards in the crew yearbook that were used to try pitching Book 5, the actual plans for Book 5 and how Amelia turned One into One-One might have involved literally ripping him in half. If we presume that that really is what the crew decided for the full Book 5 script and not just for pitching the idea of a Book 5, then the unusually flush surfaces at the interlock between Sad-One and Glad-One’s halves could carry some fascinating implications about how he was designed in the first place.

After all, you’d expect a machine being torn in half to have a bunch of broken wires and other exposed internals at the point of breakage, not the flush surfaces Sad-One and Glad-One sport.

Did One always have the ability to physically split himself in half, aka being designed with such a capability from the very start but which operated much differently than it is utilized now before Amelia broke him (and the mechanism by extension)? Or is it that when split, that’s how his internal damage ‘healed’ itself at the point of breakage via ‘something something advanced technology’? If splitting in half was something that One could do, then what intended function did it serve?

#infinity train #infinity train speculation #one-one

52 notes · View notes

heygerald · 1 year

Text

HEART MECHANICS - PART 7/9

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x oc

Matty doesn’t like change.

Like, at all.

But when things in her life start changing faster than she wants them to with no room to argue, she realizes that sometimes change isn’t so bad. Sometimes, it’s better to finally accept that her old habits aren’t always the best habits, and that maybe, just maybe, some rules are meant to be broken.

Read the story here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / ... / part 8 / part 9

The parking lot was empty when Matty pulled in.

Not late, for once, not that there was anyone around to see it though.

She pulled her keys from the ignition while attempting to smooth down her flyaway hairs. A glance in the mirror proved that it was a fruitless mission—nothing less than she deserved for driving too fast down the highway with her top down—and for no real reason at all she made sure to glare at her rearview mirror sourly just to feel a little bit better.

“At least a hot mess is still hot,” she muttered, popped some strawberry gum into her mouth, and swung out of the vehicle. Her uniform boots had been traded off for a pair of red converse that she had taken the laces out of (lost, actually), and her oil stained overalls had been replaced with a pair of jeans that were more gaping holes than fabric, as well as what had to have been a t-shirt bought in the child’s section at Good Will.

She didn’t remember ever buying it, but one day it showed up in her laundry basket. It was a little too short on the midriff and faded with bleach in some areas, yeah, but it also had a picture of Optimus Prime with large, neon 90’s style lettering splattered across the front. And, well, Transformers fucking rocked so she gladly accepted whatever stroke of luck had placed it in her possession without asking any hard hitting questions as to its existence. Karma rarely worked on her behalf, anyways; she would take whatever gifts she could get.

A passing parade of elderly women out on an afternoon stroll clearly didn’t agree if the looks they shot her were anything to go by. One even made a subdued comment about the recent downfall of women’s pride in the twenty-first century to her chubby walking partner.

“Oh, it’s not mine,” she lied, a little too miffed to do anything else. “It’s, uh, a charity... thing. You know, like, I love boobies? But, um... for children. Raising awareness one conversation at a time. Pride has absolutely nothing to do with how I dress.”

The tallest woman, the leader at the front of the pack, stuck her nose up in the air at the comment and stormed off—an impressive feat given the size of her ankle weights—and without hesitation the others went as well. They reminded Matty of a flock of flamingoes strutting past something unsavory.

Which...

Rude.

“It’s laundry day!” she shouted at their retreating figures, somehow feeling equal parts mortified and offended. They gave no response though; just sent her disgruntled looks over their shoulders before disappearing past the parking lot. She watched them go for a moment before letting her arms clap against her legs in defeat. “Note to self: die before ever reaching… whatever age that is.”

Mind made up on the matter and feeling slightly better about her life, she turned around, hopped up the deck stairs, and walked inside the empty bar with a snap of her chewing gum.

“We’re closed until five.”

Well. Mostly empty. Amelia Benjamin, daughter extraordinaire, sat at the bar.

Matty shot her a too-bright grin and strode closer with another snap of her gum; eyes sweeping the empty restaurant for any sign of Penny. The girl took one look at her conniving grin, however, before promptly returning her attention to the textbook spread out before her.

“What?” Matty drawled whilst snagging the empty stool at her right. “No hello, Matty, dear friend and role model, how are you? And here I thought the local diner had bad customer service.”

Amelia sighed out through her nose. Still, Matty caught the way that her lips curled up at the side, even if she tried to hide it behind a flip of her hair.

“I don’t work here,” she said. “And you’re not my role model.”

“Wow,” Matty deadpanned, clutching at her heart in mock pain. “That hurts, kid. I thought we were past this, but apparently puberty can turn even the best of friends against each other.”

The only response Amelia gave was the scrunching of her nose. “Ew.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. Just wait a couple of years until you’re a senior in high school, every boy you meet shares exactly one brain cell, you have to deal with both zits and college applications, and the only good beer you can get is Bud Light.”

Amelia paused in her writing to glance at Matty. “The drinking age is twenty-one.”

“Eh, pretty sure that’s just a recommendation,” Matty said with a shrug. Amelia clearly wasn’t convinced, however, and the blonde completely ignored the look that she was getting to bend over into the younger girl’s space. “Homework?”

“Duh.”

“Subject?”

“Math.”

“Gross.”

“Yup.”

Matty abandoned the elaborate equations written out in neat, swirly lettering to glance around the bar. Math had never been her thing, let alone something she was interested in having to relieve just in hopes of extending a conversation. The kitchen seemed empty, as did the Adirondacks out back, but Penny rarely left her daughter unattended at The Hard Deck. Curious, she asked, “where’s your mom?”

To that, Amelia finally leaned away from her homework. “Out with Pete,” she said, nose scrunching up once more.

This time, however, it wasn’t directed at Matty, and she couldn’t help but wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. “Ooh la la. Are we expecting her back anytime soon or is this more of a ‘they’re in the middle of playing hide zucchini’ type situation?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Amelia said.

“Oh, well, just imagine that Pete is the zucchini, you know, because he’s got a—”

“Ugh!” Amelia clapped her hands onto her ears with a terrified shriek. Matty grinned at the reaction, and in response the girl’s terror filled eyes narrowed into slits. “That’s disgusting, Matty! God! Don’t say stuff like that; that’s my mom we’re talking about here.”

“You do understand the physics of how you got here, right?” Matty poked fun.

Amelia, if possible, turned an even brighter shade of red that was impossible to hide behind her sheet of hair. “I—shut up! That was forever ago and it was with my dad and it definitely wasn’t with—with Pete!”

“Hey,” Matty drawled, eyebrows arching up towards her hairline as she spotted a nearby jar of cherries. Popping one into her mouth distractedly, she pondered, “what’s so wrong with Mav? He’s a good looking dude. Objectively, anyways. His personality is definitely off putting.”

“He’s, like, fifty,” Amelia said, as if that explained everything.

“And you’re, like, fifteen. Give it time, kiddo. Right now you’re probably obsessed with an age appropriate heart throb like, I don’t know, the youth’s equivalent of Mario Lopez or whatever—”

“Don’t say the youths,” Amelia interrupted her, only to be promptly ignored as Matty chomped on another cherry with her hand waving in the air in a vague gesture even she couldn’t make out.

“And then the next thing you know you’re going to sit down to rewatch The Lord of the Rings and suddenly—wham! The old fucker who plays Elrond is all you can think about at volleyball practice. It becomes this weird obsession thing and now you can’t watch those movies again without mentally asking yourself how much of an age gap you could put up with, which, trust me, can be an upsetting question to answer. Before you know it, decades have passed and you’re no closer to meeting the man of your dreams that you were when you were fifteen, only the man of your dreams is a lot less… dreamy.”

Amelia blinked at Matty slowly, taking that in. “I honestly didn’t get any of that,” she said.

Matty, in turn, blinked right back at her. “...so… when did you say your mom would be back?”

“I’m not sure. Definitely by five, but that’s all I know,” she said, shrugging, sighing, staring at her homework with a forlorn expression. A wince crossed her features as she settled her chin onto her left hand despondently. “Hopefully soon. I’m hungry.”

“Isn’t there a kitchen right back there?”

“No cook.”

“Damn.”

“Yup.”

The two girls—one a slowly growing pre-teen, one an adult who still acted like a pre-teen—both leaned onto the bar with matching sighs of disappointment. Amelia tapped her pencil against her notebook. Matty watched as the clock ticked by, counting the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four—

“So, do you want to blow off your homework and go get food or…?” Matty blurted out, self-control a record low. Amelia’s pencil paused mid-air as she gave her a surprised look. “I mean, not, like, blow off your homework because it’s still gonna be here when we get back. You know. It can’t walk on its own or anything.”

Amelia’s gaze narrowed. “Can I pick?”

“I suppose.”

“And you’ll pay?”

“What am I, Make a Wish?” she scoffed.

To that, the girl gave a nonchalant shrug and slowly swiveled back to her homework. “Well, if you’re not going to pay, then I suppose I can wait until Mom gets back. But it’ll probably be awhile. You know how Pete can get when he has his motorcycle. I think he took her to some little café up the coast; said they’d be lucky to get back before —”

“Okay, Jesus,” Matty gave in, arms thrown up in the air. “I’ll pay. If I don’t die of boredom, first. But we’re not going anywhere expensive. I’m not made of money, you know. And there’s, like, a recession going on. Pretty sure, anyways.”

“Trust me, I know,” Amelia said, sliding off of her stool to give Matty a pat on the shoulder. Then, as if that wasn’t dramatic enough, she gave Matty’s outfit a look full of pity and commented, “I’ve seen your phone, Matts. Maybe you should consider writing to Make a Wish.”

Matty’s jaw was on the floor when the pre-teen sashayed towards the front door.

She paused only to shoot the blonde an impish smirk. “Are you coming? I’m starving.”

Then, she promptly stepped out of the bar and made her way towards Matty’s jeep. Another relic that she eyed with a pitying look. In response, Matty took a moment to pick her jaw off the floor before she was exploding out of the building like a bat out of hell.

“There’s nothing wrong with my phone! ” she shouted. “It’s a classic!”

Amelia, already sitting in the passenger seat of her jeep, glanced up from what she was holding in her lap—unfortunately for Matty what she was holding in her lap was the ten year old sleeve of CD’s that was typically clung to the visor. “NSYNC? Seriously? Talk about old.”

“Alright kid, new rule,” she chirped, snatching the CD out of Amelia’s hands. With a glare, she shoved it into the CD player, swung her sunglasses low onto the bridge of her nose, and turned the volume dial to max. “Driver picks the music; passenger shuts her pie hole. Yeah? Now, stop talking, and let me teach you everything there is to know about teenage hormones.”

Amelia shook her head with a laugh; from the stack of junk that was scattered through Matty’s car, she managed to find a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses that she settled onto her own face. “Just don’t get a speeding ticket, okay? Technically, Mom told me that I’m not allowed to ride with you after the last time.”

“That was a total fluke,” Matty argued as she pulled out of her parking space. NSYNC was just starting to bump her stereo and, when Amelia glanced down at her phone, Matty took the opportunity to crumple up the stash of parking tickets that were currently stuffed into the cupholder. When Amelia looked back over at her she just gave an innocent smile. “Besides, if anyone is upset about that it’s me. Everyone goes fifty in a twenty-five.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Amelia said as they peeled out onto the road. “But I think you should spend less time with Pete.”

Matty just laughed. And, when Amelia started singing along to the third song on her CD, she was in a good enough mood to even buy Amelia an extra-large milkshake along with her dinner.

---

Turns out, music and food was the key to any angsty child’s heart. By the time they made it to In N’ Out down the coast, Amelia was singing along to the catchy, timeless tunes of the quintessential boyband. And after they got their too-large orders of fries, burgers, and milkshakes, Amelia had even insisted on taking a couple selfies with Matty in what she dubbed “golden hour” lighting of the afternoon. One of the pictures even made it onto her Instagram account—not that Matty had been paying attention—while the others just cluttered up her phone.

More than that, but once she had been fed, she had been in a good enough mood to let Matty take a quick detour to the nearby surf shop so she could peruse some boards that she definitely couldn’t afford. The downside of that interaction was that even when well fed, Amelia made sure to point out the issue she took with Matty spending money on hobbies when she couldn’t even be bothered to upgrade to a smartphone.

“I don’t need a smartphone,” Matty told her primly. “When you’re as stunningly hot as I am, Amelia, you have to learn to live in the moment. This body isn’t going to last forever.”

“You’re not even thirty yet,” Amelia shot back incredulously.

“And I’ll be lucky to make it to then with how stupid the mechanics are on base. Total morons. All of them.”

Amelia cocked a hip, heart-shaped sunglasses low on her nose, and gave Matty her best impression of Regina George. “You are a mechanic on base.”

“No duh,” Matty had shot back just as quickly while running her hand over a neon green surfboard that matched the writing on her t-shirt a little too well. Karma who? “The problem here is that, while I’m not an idiot, I’m in charge of a fuck-ton of idiots. Idiots who don’t like to be yelled at or called teenie-weenies when they need to be knocked down a peg. How long do you think that shit is gonna last before one of them murders me?”

“You could just try to be nicer,” Amelia said with such innocence that Matty couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh. Glen, the owner of the store who—on more than one occasion—had watched Matty verbally berate local gym bros that tried to mansplain what surfboard wax was used for laughed as well.

And he was all the way on the other side of the store.

Amelia frowned, not understanding how what she said was wrong. Matty, now wiping tears from beneath her eyes, didn’t bother to explain it. Just simply pat the girl on the back before ushering her down the next aisle. “Come on, kid. Let’s be realistic here. Now, do you like the blue wetsuit better or the white? I accidentally shrunk my last one in the dryer.”

Their aimless wandering lasted long enough for Matty to buy a new bikini that definitely wouldn’t be practical to surf in. It was cute though; not to mention half-off. At that point Amelia had ended up corralling them back outside before it got too late. Matty wouldn’t have minded spending a little bit longer talking with Glen about his latest shipment of boards, but Amelia was stronger than she looked and Matty hadn’t wanted to risk her arm being pulled out of socket.

Fine enough; they made it back before traffic could get too horrible. Unfortunately, the bar was already open by then. Not full, though, and Matty managed to pull into the same parking space as before with a satisfied smile. Amelia didn’t seem to care any which way.

“Can I keep these?” she asked as they made their way inside, poking the sunglasses in question back and forth on her face.

“They’re not mine,” Matty shrugged while surveying the faces in the bar. A few frequents stood out to her. None that were Penny. “Keep ‘em.”

Amelia, not even bothered about her mom’s presence (or lack of), frowned over at Matty from beneath said glasses. “What do you mean they’re not yours? I found them in your back seat. Did you steal them or something?”

“What? No! Of course not. Why is theft the first thing you think of?”

“Well if you didn’t steal them then...?”

Matty paused. She remembered the sunglasses vaguely from a night out with Claire a couple months back. The girls started drinking mimosas early that particular Saturday morning saying that they were going to go easy and relax after a long week. However, one mimosa turned into two, and ten hours later they found themselves in downtown San Diego at a drag bar with a bachelorette party that they had somehow been invited to. The women were nice, more than happy to bring two new girls into the mix, and they all had matching outfits of pink and red and white. Actually, if Matty squinted hard enough she could envision a blurry bride in a red sparkly dress with a pair of equally red sunglasses that looked sorta like—

“You know what? Keep them! They were a... gift.”

“You sure?”

“Yup,” she popped her ‘p’ with a poignant smack of the lips. “They look better on you, anyways.”

Amelia grinned. Matty, not wanting to even consider the circumstances in which she had obtained such glasses, just patted the girl awkwardly on the head before catching sight of Penny over her shoulder. Relieved, she pulled Amelia towards the other end of the bar.

“Penny, there you are,” she started. “Have you seen—?”

“Where on Earth have you been, Amelia?” she cut Matty off with a cocked hip and the most motherly glare the woman could possibly produce. Matty froze in her shoes at being on the receiving end of it. This was the look that drunks typically got before being booted from The Hard Deck.

Matty promptly cleared her throat before shoving Amelia to the battlefront with a fake cough. She couldn’t see the glare—you know, because of the sunglasses—but boy could she feel it.

“We, um, went to get food,” Amelia started, now feeling her mother’s ire a little bit more.

“Food?” Penny deadpanned.

“Yeah. Didn’t Matty text you?”

Penny pulled her phone out of her back packet with a pointed look, before reading, “Stole your daughter, be back by…” she trailed off. Then, as if to punctuate the point she was making, she shoved her phone towards the pair to show that the text was exactly as she read it. “You didn’t even finish the text.”

Matty rubbed the back of her neck with a wince. “Right. I was going to, and then… um. I got distracted. Guess I sent it without spell checking.”

Penny arched her brow. “I called you twice since then. I thought the rule was to always answer the phone, Amelia,” she told her daughter. Her facade of anger was cracking a bit as it gave way to acceptance.

“Oh,” Amelia faltered. “Our music was kind of... loud.”

“Your music?”

“It was NSYNC if that makes it any better,” Matty added. Penny said nothing. Just shot Matty a dry look. “Yup, nope, the band wouldn’t really matter. Got it.”

The stare off continued for another moment before Penny finally relented. Probably more to do with the fact that they hadn’t been doing anything wrong per say, and less to do with the fact that Matty was trying to offer up her saddest wounded dog impression.

Actually, yeah, it had nothing to do with that. Matty was never very good at looking innocent.

Whatever.

What was important was that Penny wasn’t too mad. Sighing, she just tossed her dish towel over her shoulder before waving her hands at them. “Alright, fine. Just go finish your homework please, Amelia? Sarah is coming in at seven and I can drive us home then.”

Amelia’s shoulders sagged with relief. Then she grinned. “Great. Thanks!”

She moved to walk away without saying anything else, and Matty, not being able to help herself, cleared her throat as pointedly as she could. In turn, the pre-teen paused.

“Okay, fine. NSYNC isn’t that bad I guess,” she said as if that was the most important thing. Then she disappeared down to where her homework still sat. Matty watched in disbelief as the girl gathered everything up and promptly moved to the back deck where it wasn’t nearly as loud.

Scoffing as dramatically as she could manage, she turned to Penny, and told her, “I bought her, like, twenty dollars worth of food! I mean seriously, Pen, she just wouldn’t stop eating! And gave her a pair of sunglasses for free.”

It seemed that she was complaining to the wrong audience. Penny had no sympathy to give.

“Ugh, whatever,” she muttered. “I guess it’s a thankless job or whatever.”

“Kidnapping my daughter?”

“Ministering to the youths.”

Despite her earlier mood, the absurdity of the statement cracked a laugh out of Penny. It almost always did—the woman could hardly ever stay mad at Matty. She liked to think it’s because Penny understood who Matty was on a spiritual level. In reality, it was just because Penny couldn’t believe someone with a trainwreck of a life like the Neven’s could still manage to function.

It was pretty much free entertainment.

“I think the idea of you ministering anything to my daughter is more concerning than the kidnapping.”

“It was hardly a kidnapping,” she joked, sliding onto an empty stool. “Other than teaching her about NSYNC, Amelia did most of the talking. Did you know that Abby told Kasey that she was only allowed to invite two girls to her birthday party but then Mary G. found out that she was actually just lying because she was still mad at Kasey for kissing Aidan when she knows that Abby still had feelings for him after they danced together at the Spring Fling?”

Penny, both impressed that Matty had been able to retain that sort of information, and bewildered by everything she had just said, asked, “do you know who any of those people are?”

“Not a clue,” she admitted. Shrugged. Snuck another cherry off the bar before Penny could swat her with the dish towel. “I think that milkshake had too much sugar in it. Lesson learned.”

“Well, I’m glad that you two had fun. Is there a reason that you decided to take her out to dinner?”

“Actually, yes, thank you for asking. I came looking for something. When we were here the other night I think I forgot my—” before she could explain herself, Penny withdrew a pair of shoes from a shelf beneath the bar with an amused smile. “Shoes. What a wonderful surprise. Thank you, these cost me twenty bucks.”

“I’m more worried that you went home without shoes than the fact you paid twenty dollars on those shoes,” Penny snickered.

Matty blew a raspberry. “Mock all you want. These babies have seen a lot. They were worth the money.”

Penny raised her hands and leaned back onto the bar. “I don’t even want to know.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed, grinning. “Not that I would tell you half of the stories. State secrets and all that,” she exaggerated while setting the shoes aside with a loving look. The look shifted a bit when she glanced back up at Penny; this time, she was the curious one. “Speaking of state secrets, where have you been all evening? I heard that you were out on a date.”

She didn’t even flinch. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Rendezvous, an afternoon romp, a tryst, whatever you want to call it,” she supplemented without missing a beat. Penny grew more exasperated with each word, much to her amusement, and as she stuffed another cherry into her mouth she raised both brows. “How’s Mav?”

“None of your business.”

“Ooh, that good huh?”

Penny hit Matty with her towel, forcing the blonde to lean back off the counter and away with the cherries. She laughed as she did so, however. “We had fun. But, maybe you should talk to him.”

“About his sex life?” she deadpanned, making a face. “No thanks.”

“About his work life,” Penny said with a pointed, if not, amused look. To this, Matty settled down a bit. She hadn’t been expecting the change in conversation, but any gossip was good gossip when it came to the life of Maverick. “Cyclone is pulling him out of Top Gun.”

“What?” she cried. “That’s ridiculous. Why?”

“Ice isn’t here anymore,” Penny told her, serious for the first time since they started talking. And, fuck, if that wasn’t a bitch of a sentence to hear even if it was true. Matty just hadn’t thought that things would change so quickly since the funeral. Hadn’t wanted to think about it, maybe. “Yeah. Cyclone doesn’t think he’s right for it anymore.”

“And what does Mav think?”

Penny was quiet for a long moment. Matty didn’t really need an answer.

“Where is he?” she asked. And, when she got an answer, she didn’t hesitate to go looking for him. Even if they weren’t best friends, even if he wasn’t her godfather, she still owed him a conversation at the very least. Penny appreciated that; was happy to see it too.

And when Matty had pulled out of the parking lot with intent and Penny saw that she had left her boots on their stool, she could only shake her head with a sigh.

“Note to self,” she muttered, stuffing the shoes back to their hiding spot beneath the counter, “don’t ever buy that girl anything expensive.”

---

The traffic on base was relatively nonexistent as Matty cruised through. Most people had gone home for the day, and the ones that hadn’t were slowly easing themselves along the roads without much hurry. It made her lift her foot from the gas pedal a little bit. It worked out well in the end; driving slowly kept away the MP, and it also gave her the opportunity to spot Mav on the opposite side of one of the training fields doing sprints.

She parked, took the keys out, but didn’t approach just yet. Instead, Matty propped her shoes up on the dashboard, threw a stick of gum in her mouth, and started twiddling with the Etch N’ Sketch that she kept in her car for moments like this.

Okay, well, really it was in her car because she never cleaned, but whatever.

By the time that Maverick finally took a break from his self-imposed torture, the sun was low on the horizon, the air had a bit of a stickiness to it, and Matty was halfway through doodling a two headed dragon. Well, if you squinted. She wasn’t all that much of an artist. Still.

“Did Penny send you after me?” he asked her, slowly making his way in her direction. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, his back, his legs. She grimaced at the sight before tossing him a half empty water bottle. He gave it a glance over before sipping on the lukewarm water tentatively.

“No. I was just on base, saw you running. Thought that you might throw out your back before the night was over. Didn’t want to miss the spectacle of you being shoved into an ambulance,” she lied seamlessly. Mav chuckled; she wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he didn’t call her out on it anyways. “Why would Penny send me after you?”

He squinted into the sunset. “They’re kicking me out of the program.”

“They can’t do that.”

“They can,” he said, blinked in a moment of thought, and then added, “I’m a little surprised that it took them this long, actually. I don’t think teaching is really my thing.”

Matty rolled her eyes. “That’s a load of bullshit.”

Mav, not quite expecting such bluntless, glanced at her. “Come on, Matts. You don’t need to coddle me. I’m a disaster in the classroom; I knew that twenty-five years ago when I tried this the first time around.”

“No shit,” she deadpanned. His lips drifted down into a frown, eyebrows furrowing into a tense line in the middle, and she tossed her Etch N’ Sketch into the backseat with a sigh. “Mav, obviously you’re bad at teaching in a classroom. You’ve never exactly been the sort of guy to sit down and read a textbook.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, shut up, I’m not done,” she told him. The conviction in her voice was purposeful, the eye roll wasn’t. “Just because you can’t lecture well doesn’t mean you can’t teach. You have, like, decades of experience. Good experience doing things that no sane person would ever do. Bradley told me that he had never seen someone fly like you did during training exercises.”

The light moved on Maverick’s face as he shifted on his feet, glancing at her in abate curiosity. “He said that?” he asked. Her mouth tightened into a scowl, however, and the conversation moved on with a cough. “Cyclone knows that I have experience. It was one of the reasons that he didn’t want me here in the first place. My file isn’t exactly…”

“Short?”

He scoffed. “You could say that.”

Matty shrugged, waving a hand around vaguely as she tucked her sneakers under herself. “What does Cyclone know anyways?”

“A lot,” Maverick said. “Being a Vice Admiral and all.”

“Vice Admiral or not he doesn’t know everything.”

Maverick finished the last of her water thoughtfully. As he glanced around, down at his foot, out into the sunset, Matty could see the age lines deepening on his face. It was a bittersweet thing; oftentimes, she liked to think of her Dad and Maverick and all the other pilots as relics, sure, but also as untouched by time. They were so lively, so fun, so young and bold that it could be difficult to acknowledge that they aged like real people. Changed.

Got sick.

Died.

She cleared the weight in her throat awkwardly. “Look, believe it or not, I didn’t come out here to give you a pep talk. You know what you’re capable of, and you know what this job requires. But…”

He lifted a brow. “But?” he asked pointedly.

“I’ve never known you to walk away from something.”

The lines on his face tightened, the age deepening by a decade. Maverick tossed her empty water bottle into a nearby trash can with a beleaguered sigh. “Penny said the same thing, but some things are out of my control.”

“Since when?” she scoffed. “Ice told me that you ended up here because you crashed going Mach 10 over the desert.”

“Crashing wasn’t exactly my goal,” he told her dryly.

“Yeah, well, there’s consequences to everything. You know what you’re capable of. I guess you just need to figure out what consequences you can live with and which you can’t,” she said. It was oddly poetic, and maybe one of the most sensible things she had ever told anybody in her life. Maverick seemed aware of this as his mouth lifted into a smile. Cheeks reddening, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “now seriously are you going to put a shirt on or what?”

To that, he laughed. Glanced down at his bare chest, then to her, and then laughed again.

“You know,” he told her while stooping down to pull his shirt out of the discarded bag on the ground. When she caught his gaze over the crook of his shoulder, his eyes were sparkling. “I bet if I was Rooster you wouldn’t mind so much.”

“That’s—that’s not even—” she spluttered, mortified, horrified, and a little bit scandalized. “Shut up!”

He made no promise, and by the time that he was climbing onto his motorcycle, Matty made sure that her volume dial was turned back to max so that she wouldn’t have to hear him if he didn’t.

---

“I think I’m going to quit,” Matty declared suddenly as she flopped back onto the damp sand. It’s a declarative statement spoken loud enough to garner her friend’s attention, but oddly enough, not a single person believes the statement itself. To that, she stuck her nose up into the air. “I am! I’ve had it with this life. My back hurts like a bitch and I’m tired of never having a manicure last. Plus, I’d rather spend all my time at the beach like this.”

“Sure, Sheila,” Boomer deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he catches a bright orange football that he and George have been tossing around to pass the time. Earlier, the group had indulged in a short game of flag football that had resulted in Matty getting knocked on her ass one too many times to count, but now it was just the pair entertaining themselves as they waited for sunset. Though the group had gotten to the beach around dinner to find themselves a little piece of sand, the rest of the beach had slowly but surely gotten fuller as night set out. It was the first annual night surfing event of the year—with the weather deemed good enough and the midnight swells tall enough—and the air crackled with anticipation as locals showed up. “I’d reckon you’d last all of two days before you come back to work.”

“Don’t think I can be a lazy body?”

“Think you’d run out of money,” he snorted.

The others laughed and, as Matty considered it, she figured that he was probably right. Matty had a history of being bad with money. Not so bad that she was always paying off gambling debts like Boomer, mind you, but bad enough that she liked to treat herself when the moment struck.

“I’ll just marry rich then,” she said after a moment of consideration. Upon reaching that conclusion, Matty threw her head back into Claire’s lap—smiling when the brunette arches a brow down at her in challenge—and gave a wistful hum. “I don’t think I’d mind being a trophy wife.”

“You’d have to be a trophy to be a trophy wife,” Claire chirped.

“Please. Men practically drool when they see me.”

“And you’re so humble too,” Nick snarked from her side. He had busied himself with setting up a campfire before the night got too dark. Typically, that was Frank’s expertise, but he had elected to go out of town that weekend for a camping trip with some buddies, and so it was up to the young blood to do what no one else wanted to do. “Might have to work on that if you want to keep a guy around.”

Matty blew a raspberry. “I’d rather work for the rest of my life than dumb myself down for some richie-rich loser.”

“Two minutes,” Claire announced. “It took you two minutes to come full circle.”

Matty rolled her eyes up at her friend as Nick laughed under his breath while adjusting the logs just the right way. She knows it’s all in good humor, though, and doesn’t feel particularly aggressive any which way so she just lets them get away with it all.

“Do you need some help?” she asked him after a few minutes of watching.

Nick arched a brow at her. “Do you know how to build a fire?”

“Well, no, but I’ve seen Frank do it before. It can’t be that hard.”

Nick and Claire shared a look. She shook her head first, deciding that she was too close to Matty to say anything, which left him to think up some sort of bullshit excuse as to why no one wants Matty to get her hands on a pack of matches. He’s too nice, however, and maybe takes too long because soon enough George rather boldly told her, “I’d rather be cold tonight than have you attempt to build a fire.”

“Um, excuse me. Rude much?”

“I’ve seen what you can do with a wrench and a can of oil, Mats,” George deadpanned.

To that, she flapped her hand around at him, vaguely annoyed that he was involved in the conversation at all. “That was one time, and I apologized already. Plus, Cap made me sit through that stupid fire safety course afterwards. I think I’m probably the most qualified here to start a campfire if we want to get all technical about it.”

The entire group shared a look.

“Listen, I’d love nothin’ more than to watch you bend over the campfire,” Boomer started. She immediately huffed at it, rolled her eyes, already considering smacking him for whatever bullshit he was about to spew, but he steamrolled on without even noticing. Nothing ever seemed to shut him up, really. “But you were just talkin’ about wantin’ to be a trophy wife, yeah? Let little Nicky handle the fire and you can just keep lying there lookin’ pretty for us all.”

Matty feels mildly offended at everyone’s distrust in her skills, but does realize that Boomer has a point. She would have to get up off the ground and actually try if she wanted to follow through on her proposition. Lying prone in the sand sounded like a much better option. Still, Matty hated admitting defeat.

“Sexists.”

“Don’t loop me in with them,” Claire said as she nudged Matty’s head with her knee. “I’d like to see a woman show up a man any day. Just, you know, not you with a campfire.”

Matty’s pout deepened. “I hate all of you.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual,” Claire shot right back. It takes nothing more than for Matty to arch a brow in prompting to get an explanation. “I still can’t believe you invited some of the Top Gun idiots out with us tonight. Talk about a betrayal.”

“I didn’t invite them all,” Matty argued. It was true. She had invited Bradley earlier that day when they had run into each other at the mess hall. And by extension she had also invited Natasha and Bob because they were standing right there with him eavesdropping on the entire conversation. She hadn’t intended for anyone else to hear about the shindig, but he had shot her a text about an hour earlier warning her that a few more of the knucklehead pilots might be tagging along. “It’s hardly my fault that Bradley can’t keep a secret to save his life. Besides, it’s not just us here. It’s a community thing.”

“Sure, but since when are the pilots part of our community?”

Matty doesn’t let her interrogation go very far. Pointedly, she reminded Claire, “last I recall, you got along with the pilots just fine. I’m pretty sure you would have spent the entire night with Natasha if you hadn’t been dragged away. It was almost adorable how cute you two were together, all huddled up in the corner booth, drinking your beer.”

Claire is unamused at Matty’s point, but doesn’t argue it. Although no one outrightly said anything about it, the motor pool had their suspicions that Claire might have heart eyes for Phoenix.

“Whatever. It’s the fact of the matter. Just because you want to bang Bradshaw doesn’t mean we should be stuck with the others as babysitters.”

“I don’t want to bang him.”

“Fine, marry, whatever.”

Matty shoved off of Claire with a glare to which the brunette grinned, pleased to have won the argument. She doesn’t get to say anything else about it though. Before she can, a crying whoop catches the group’s attention, and they turn to watch as a group approaches them from the parking lot.

Fanboy and Payback are at the front; barreling across the sand, shoving one another on the shoulders, as they race to see who can make it into the water first. They spray sand over Matty and Claire, but are gone before they can be reprimanded. She doesn’t care to see who wins—though, if the way they are wrestling one another, she suspects that neither wants to admit to a loss. Behind them the others trail at a slower pace. Natasha ambles along with Bob, a cooler dangling between their hands. Bradley has a surfboard tucked beneath each arm, jean shorts this time traded for a more appropriate pair of low hanging swim trunks. Behind him, Hangman saunters forward with a beer already cracked in hand, looking much too smug for her liking. Coyote lingers in the far back as he struggles to pull his sweatshirt over head.

“This isn’t much of a party,” Jake chirped smugly at them.

“Well it was before you showed up,” Matty shot right back. She catches Bradley’s eye next, and he has the smarts to at least offer a shrug in apology for the blonde having somehow wormed his way into the invitation. She finds that she doesn’t mind all that much though. So long as Seresin watched his attitude. “Ever heard of being a party crasher?”

“Nah.”

“Course not.”

“Every party wants me. I’m part of the experience.”

Matty can’t help but roll her eyes as the others join the group. Claire and Natasha share warm smiles. Bob seems timid as always, but he still offers the pair of women cold beer from his cooler that they accept with appreciative smiles. “Whatever. Maybe you can keep Booms’ attention, huh? The pair of you two are so cute together. Like little best friend puppies or whatever creepy box you came out of.”

This time it’s Jake who is rolling his eyes. But…

Well, when he catches Boomer’s eye and realizes that the man has a football in hand, he’s instantly more interested in whatever that might entail than he is in trading barbs with Matty. He splits from the group without saying anything else, and somehow he manages to round Payback and Fanboy out of the water without much prompting. Coyote trails after them as well as Bradley takes a seat beside Matty.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Long time no see.”

“Oh, sure. It’s been a whole, what, four hours now? I can’t imagine how you could have survived going that long without seeing me. The withdrawal must be getting pretty bad by now.”

“It’s been hard, not gonna lie,” he teased. Smiled when she pokes her tongue out at him. “Pretty excited to see how bad you are at surfing if I’m being honest.”

“I’m amazing,” she told him.

He clearly doesn’t believe her touting. “Really?”

“You better believe it, Bradshaw. You’re going to see some real talent tonight out on those waves. If you can even keep up.”

His gaze brightens at the challenge, but also at the way that her voice has adopted something—dare she admit—flirtatious to it in all of five sentences. She’s almost surprised at herself, really; even more surprised that she really doesn’t mind. In fact, Matty is simply happy to sit there talking with Bradley about anything at all. She’s starting to worry that it’s his attention that she can’t get enough of and not the other way around.

“Yeah, yeah, well I think I’m finally getting used to your smack talk, Neven. It’s not nearly as scary as you think it is.”

“God, say it ain’t so. I must be going soft around you, Bradshaw.”

“The horror,” he joked.

She smiled, he grins, and in response something happy and soft opened his features up even further. She has caught glimpses of the expression before—in the parking lot when he brought her coffee, at her house when she finally talked to him about her past, on the beach when they were eating tacos in their own little world—and she marks it down as something that she likes seeing. Likes being the cause of. Likes knowing, at least a little, that it’s for her.

Matty opened her mouth to say something back, to try and tease the expression for a little bit longer, when she came to the horrifying realization that she is surrounded by her friends while falling into some sort of mystified trance. It’s all so high school, really. The way that she seems to forget everything else when Bradley smiles at her.

Clearing her throat, she turned to find that Claire is already watching her with an all too smug look. Matty arched a brow at her friend sharply. “Don’t you want to play football with the boys?” she prompts.

It does nothing to scare her off.

“Nope,” Claire tuts, popping the ‘p’ for extra emphasis. The smugness has gone and grown a head of its own as she slides her gaze towards Bradley. She even makes a show of stretching her legs out in the sand. “I’m plenty comfortable right here. What about you, Nat?”

Natasha, having now joined the group on the ground, seems to understand that she’s in the middle of something. She doesn’t seem to mind though. “All comfy, cozy,” she chirped as well. Her own gaze darts to Bradley. He rolls his eyes at her from behind his beer, but says nothing at all.

It’s Nick who—once he finally gets the fire going—provokes the group of four from their silent standoff.

“Anybody feel like playing cards?” he asked them.

They all peer at one another for a moment. Matty at Claire, Claire at Natasha, Natasha at Bradley, then Bradley over at Mats, before coming to the same conclusion.

“Yup,” Matty chirps as Claire says, “why not?”

Nick knows nothing of the war that he’s just stepped into. Neither does Bob who somehow manages to plop himself down right between Claire and Matty. When he catches the looks that both women are shooting him—as well as Natasha’s mute look of disbelief—he frowns.

“Did I miss something?”

----

The water is cool against Matty’s skin as she dangles her legs on either side of her surfboard. She’s sitting far enough out from the shore that she’s no longer in anyone’s way but not so far that she’s at risk of being swept out. It helps as well that someone had been smart enough to pass out glow sticks in mass. There’s a bright pink one wrapped around her neck, as well as a dainty blue one on each wrist. She likes to watch as they leave behind luminescent trails in the dark with each movement of her arm.

Mesmerizing, like the ocean that gently sways her.

“Given up?” Bradley calls towards her. She has to squint her eyes to see him. The pilots only brought two surfboards and had been taking turns; it seems that he had handed his off to Coyote and instead was swimming out to hers.

“Just watching the show.”

He treads closer until his movements set her board swaying a bit. Matty narrowed her gaze at him, but she doubts he can see it in the dark. She can see only a swath of his features from the moonlight and the orange necklace he’s wearing as is.

“You shouldn’t have swam out here without a board,” she chides when he’s close enough that she doesn’t have to shout.

“Why?”

“Pretty sure it’s unsafe.”

“It’s plenty safe,” he chirps. She knows there’s something else coming before he moves, and Matty barely manages to keep her balance as he climbs onto her own surfboard with a grin. It shifts beneath them—threatening to throw them both over—before they manage to find their balance. He sits as a mirror image to her on the other end. Close enough to touch, though, if she tried. “See? We can share. It’s not like you’re using it, anyways.”

“How presumptuous of you.”

“That I thought you’d share?”

“That you don’t think I’ll drown you for touching my board,” she says.

He shakes his head with a laugh. She wonders how he would have reacted to something like that a few weeks ago. After they had met at the bar but before they had come to any sort of reconciliation. If he was smart, she supposes that he wouldn’t have even approached her in the dark. But Bradly Bradshaw never struck her as a coward.

“Come on, Mats, we both know you like me,” he teases.

To this, she arches a brow. “Oh, I do, do I?”

“Definitely.”

Matty hums as if the whole thing is a conspiracy, but she also flounders a bit. She’s hardly ever spent time in a relationship. Usually, she was more of a fuck-em and dump-em kinda girl. When that was the case, she didn’t have to worry about what sort of thing she might say. She just needed to be confident enough to win their attention. Then, the next morning, she would sneak home and never have to worry about it again.

But with Bradley…

Well, she found that she didn’t necessarily want that sort of thing. She liked having inside jokes with him, liked having him come back to her, liked the attention. More than that, she wanted it to continue.

It left her stranded in unfamiliar waters.

Literally.

“Whatever, Bradshaw,” she says, sticking her nose up in the air with as much feigned disinterest as she can manage. It was neither convincing nor mean. Awkward in her own skin, she throws her wet hair over her shoulder with a huff. “Okay, so I guess you’re not as horrible as I thought.”

He clutched a hand to his chest. “That might have been the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

“I could still drown you,” she points out, narrowing her eyes at him. There’s a glimmer of something amused in her gaze that she can’t manage to shake, though. “Besides, that hardly means what you think it means.”

“You know, despite what I first thought, you’re a pretty horrible liar.”

“Um, I am not!”

“And you get offended at the weirdest stuff too,” he added. She scoffs, rolled her eyes, twisted on the board a little too quickly and then went ramrod stiff when it threatened to topple them both over. He seemed amused at all of this. Flustered, Matty glares at him until he gets on with the conversation. “Alright, fine, fair enough. You’re the most brutally honest person I met. Is that better? A compliment for a compliment.”

She considers it, then nods. “I’ll take it.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. She nodded back once more, feeling pleased, until the moment that he opened his mouth again to speak. “Then I want you to be brutally honest right now and tell me that I’m imagining things and that you aren't interested in me. At least a little bit.”

Well. Fuck. That backfired spectacularly.

How had she let that happen?

“What are you drunk?” she blurts, not really sure what else to ask after hearing a declaration like that.

“I’m not drunk. I’m being totally serious here, Mats. Look, I know how you felt about pilots and all of that, and I get it, I do, but I’m leaving soon and I’m tired of ignoring this thing between us—whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me. Alright? Just once, right now.”

“I—” she hesitated. It was dark, but the longer they sat there together, the more details on his face she could make out. Like the way he arched a brow at her in challenge, or the way that his eyes were wide and earnest, or the way that there was a little dent between his eyebrows like he was nervous to hear what she had to say. “I don’t—I don’t date pilots.”

The earnest expression gave way to something exasperated. “I didn’t ask if you would date me, I asked you to be honest about how you felt about me. Because I’ll be honest with you, Mats, alright? I like you. A lot. I like that you’re honest and open and not ashamed of who you are.”

“Bradley—”

“And I like that you are hard-working, that you don’t let people push you around,” he continued. She licked her lips as he didn’t show a sign of stopping, eyes darting around as if looking for some way out, but it seemed that he was smarter than she gave him credit for. Cornering her on a surfboard with no way back to shore but an embarrassing swim as one way to go at it. She would have commended such a bold strategy if, you know, she wasn’t on the defensive side of it. “And I like that you understand me.”

Matty latched onto that as quick as she could, not sure what else she could do. “See, okay, that’s the thing. You don’t like me, Bradley. You just like that I know about your past, that I went through something similar, alright? What’s the saying—misery loves company or whatever.”

“That’s not it and you know it.”

“It is,” she said, but, if she’s being honest, she’s not really sure anymore.

He fixed her with a look. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Matts.”

“Come on, be serious,” she pleaded with him, slapping her hands in the water. His shoulders tightened a little bit at it. Her eyes drifted, unwillingly, to his bare chest, before she reminded herself that there were more important things to worry about. “I’m a horrible person. Okay? I am.”

“You’re not.”

“You just think that I’m fun. It’s happened before. I’m quirky and honest and whatever but pretty soon you’re going to hate that about me. Pretty soon you’re going to leave and you’re going to forget me and that’s—that’s okay. That’s how these things go,” she said.

But once she said it she came to the startling realization that it’s not okay and it shouldn’t be how things go. Matty realized, stuck out on that board with him, that she didn’t want him to forget about her. She liked the idea of being known to the core by someone—known for all her misdeeds and deeds, for her history and her family name—yet not judged for it. She liked not having to worry that someone might be into her because of the ties of her Dad or Iceman brought with them.

Fuck it.

She fucking liked Bradley Goddamn Bradshaw.

“Come on, Neven,” he prompts. “Talk to me about this. Don’t shut me out.”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” she said without thinking.

That surely caught his attention, though, and this time when he sat back even further, she could make out the hurt that flashed across his features. Somehow, it spurs her on. Frustration tints her voice as she finally, at long last, is exactly what he wants her to be.

Honest.

“I have a rule about this kind of stuff, okay? Everyone jokes about it all the time, makes fun of me for it, but I’m serious. You think that I made the rule because it was funny? Or that I just didn’t want to follow in my mom’s footsteps? I don’t want to like someone that’s just going to leave, okay? That’s it. That’s the truth. You wanted me to be honest so I will. I don’t want to feel like I do about someone like you because you’re just going to leave me behind.”

He blinked at her, silent.

“Well?” she asked. “Are you happy? Yes, I like you. Yes, I feel something here too. But…”

“What?” he prompted her. “But what?”

“When you leave, I’m still going to be here. So what’s the point? Why even bother at all? So we can go out on one date, fuck, and then never talk to each other again? I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s worth it.”

“You think that I would do that to you?”

Matty hadn’t expected that question. When she caught him staring, bewildered almost, she gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know, yeah, I guess. We barely know each other. I’m not saying that you’re a bad person or anything for it. I just think it’s normal.”

Bradley was silent for a long moment that felt like an eternity. She didn’t like pensive silences, didn’t like stewing in her own thoughts. It was one of the reasons that she talked so much. Matty felt powerful when she had attention on her because it meant that people weren’t sitting there thinking about all of the reasons that they didn’t like her. Okay, so what if she wasn’t the super confident person she pretended to be all the time? Is that a crime? Everyone had things that they weren’t proud of or things that they wanted to pretend didn’t exist.

Matty Neven was a lot of things. Constantly striving for approval was one of them. Struck with the fear of being abandoned was another. Big fucking whoop. It wasn’t the secret of the century. Hardly a secret at all for anyone who had an inkling of training in psychology.

Bradley didn’t have that sort of training. That’s why, just as she was considering drowning herself in the ocean, he was stuck on one single thing when she had already gone on three different downward spirals. “You really think that you’re so forgettable?” he asked her, dumbstruck.

“Um... what?”

“You said that I would just forget you,” he pointed out. It seemed that her own lack of awareness astounded him. But, like, sue her. There was a lot going on right now. “Do you really think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe... Yes? Look, I’m just going to swim back to shore—”

“Matty,” he interrupted her with such exasperation that she snapped her mouth shut before she could say anything else. Probably a good thing too because if she got back to her car she most certainly was going to break several different speeding laws that night in her desire to run away. “You are probably the most unforgettable person I’ve ever met.”

“Right, stunningly gorgeous and all that,” she muttered in a poor excuse of a joke.

He didn’t seem to hear it. Just steamrolled on ahead. “I’m sorry that there’s been people who make you feel like you’re not worth remembering before, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get you out of my mind even if I wanted to. Which, to be clear, I don’t.”

“You… don’t?” she hedged nervously, almost scared of the answer either way.

He shook his head so violently that it shook the board they were sitting on. “Fuck no, I don’t want to forget you. What I want is to take you out on a date, and then another, and then another one.”

She had never considered that option. The one where he didn’t forget about her or get bored of her. That’s why her response was nothing but a dumb, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he reiterated. She blinked at him, then at the water beneath them in thought. The ocean rippled around them as their board twirled listlessly in the ocean. She had never been so bewildered before. “I like you. Okay? That’s that. You can tell me to get lost if you don’t like me, and I’ll respect that. But I don’t think you want me to leave you alone. So... let me take you out on a date. A real one. Not just coffee in the parking lot or tacos outside The Hard Deck.”

“That’s different. We were just hanging out.”

He gave her a weird look. “Do you think I woke up at six am because I just wanted to talk to you for five minutes in a parking lot?”

“Well, I mean…” she trailed off, not even sure what she had thought. And as he watched her beneath the moonlight it was obvious to them both that she wasn’t any good at this sort of thing.

“Just say yes,” he instructed her, a proverbial life raft in the waters.

She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Tossed her hair to the left and then to the right. “...okay.” Bradley had a look pinched halfway between excitement and annoyance that she couldn’t even do that right. “I mean, yes. Yes, I will go out on a date with you. A real one. One where you can pay and hold the door or whatever guys do.”

He grinned. Sighed. Then bent closer. “Good. I’m going to kiss you now.”

“You’re what—?”

Bradley stifled whatever pot of emotions that threatened to boil over with a warm, sound kiss. It had all thoughts evaporating from her mind like drops of water beneath the sun. And, oh, if it didn’t make everything better to have his hands shift around her bare waist as his mouth slanted against her mouth. It silenced everything she had going on inside her rat’s nest of a head—she could admit that her mind was more like the scene of Spongebob where his mind workers caught everything on fire and then started running around with sirens blaring than anything organized—but Bradley Bradshaw seemed to bring order to the chaos with nothing more than his touch. Goosebumps pricked up along her bare legs as she kissed him back, and when their teeth clacked against one another, they weren’t above it all to laugh.

She giggled into his lips. He smirked against her mouth.

And then, in a swift movement, something tipped their board over from underneath and the pair was promptly dunked under the water. She swallowed salt water as she blubbered, confused, and half afraid that a shark was about to eat her right when her life was starting to get interesting.

When she surfaced, spluttered like a drowning fish, and push the wet streaks of blonde hair out of her eyes, however, she realized that the reality was much less exciting as she spied two heads with neon necklaces in the near distance. It was dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t make out the matching grins that Claire and Natasha wore as they howled with laughter.

Nat paused when she met Matty’s eyes. “Oh, shit, she looks pissed!”

The girls turned tail and paddled as fast as they could towards Claire’s surfboard that had been abandoned in the water not too far from Matty’s. They giggled as they went, though, and she figured it wouldn’t be all that hard to frame their drownings as accidents.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” she shrieked after them.

“You have to catch us first!” Claire shouted back.

She would. She wasn’t even that fast of a swimmer, but she would. Before she got the chance to take off after them, however, something latched onto her wrist and tugged her in the opposite direction of the shore.

A few soaked curls flopped on Bradley’s forehead as he smiled over at her.

“Um, excuse me, they’re getting away!”

“You can kill them later,” he said.

“But—”

He kissed her again. It was sloppier as they were now both treading water, and she was pretty sure that she swallowed even more salt water in the mess of it all. This time she didn’t care nearly as much.

*** taglist (thanks for asking!) @callsignbarb @coyotesamachado @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @olivethenerd16 @the-winter-marvel33 @hiddleless @momc95 @alanadetigy @obsessedasusual

Okay, i kinda can’t believe how this story basically ran so far off course my my original idea, but i love where it’s ending up. i’ve been feeling less enthusiastic about writing just bc it’s taking me so much longer to update this story than it did to update old habits die hard but then i realized that this story is so much longer, with so many more scenes, and i’m very proud of that. hope you enjoy!

one more chapter to go xoxo

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #heart mechanics #rooster fanfic

39 notes · View notes