#when will my family be safe. we will never have land that we feel safe in

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

[tender-rosiey]

“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x y/n #nanami x y/n

[fromgoy2joy]

I have been… biting my tongue from saying things. 

Partially because I’m not “really Jewish” (on the way to it via conversion), and because I didn’t want this blog to be political. 

But I realize I want this page to be a safe space. If anyone takes issue with what I’m about to say, I don’t want them on this page. 

I joined the college jewish community very shortly after 10/7 and was immediately welcomed in. There was no separation between me and the girl who had gone to orthodox shul all her life and was the head of the state youth group. I was told explicitly  “you are one of us. And together, we are mourning. We have lost our people and so have you.” 

Still I felt no authority to speak on things as insidious as antisemitism until recently. But how many times do you have to experience an antisemitic incident until you get to stand up? 

Six. The answer is six. 

Since explicitly aligning myself with Jewishness, I have lost friends who told me I have “dual loyalties” in so many words. I’ve been ostracized in events because we were singled out . I’ve been followed back to my dorm room from events by people hurling genocide accusations at me- white girls wearing keffiyahs who don't know anything about the Nakba when I try to connect with them about how awful it was.

My face was used in a local “fight jew hate” campaign” where I’m in a group of people with clearly middle eastern descent. But what circulated around my campus was my blonde hair and blue eyes, with people using laughing emojis.

“This is who we’re supposed to be defending!? Bitch please! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣” 

(Which is perfectly ironic because they singled out the person who wasn't ethnically Jewish and focused on her. )

Campus security and the disciplinary office knows me quite well from all the reports I've filed whether for me or other people.

I leave campus for breaks. Even though I’m returning to my highly Catholic conservative family, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't have to look over my shoulder constantly or check myself in the surroundings I'm in. I already feel the dread about returning in January.

What hurts is the blindness- the lack of nuance- that is being given. Every single Jewish person at my school is not a self described zionist, other than that they acknowledge Jewish indignity to the land, and that there was a reason for the creation of Israel- not even justification in the current state or the matter it came about.

But they- and we- shouldn't have to prove ourselves. We shouldn't be debating if we should fundraise for Gazans (we are) in case someone accuses us of "lying about our intentions" or if we'd be pointed out as "the good jews!" They shouldn't have to have a tab open on their computer for Israeli passports, even though they desperately don't want to leave the United States. I shouldn't have to wonder whenever I'm at a synagogue "If I get killed here in a terrorist attack before being immersed in the mikvah, will I get a Catholic or Jewish funeral?"

But that never mattered. Our voices never did. Unless the antisemitism came from a high school dropout neo-nazi with a shaved head and swastika jacket, it's never going to matter.

I will never forget- even as I advocate for Palestinians, call for a ceasefire, and donate. Or any other cause where I'll be marching besides these activists I can never call well meaning.

I could go on and on about it. But I won't be able to write it out in this post.

All I know is when the counsel of rabbis ask me if I'm ready to be apart of an unpopular group, I'm going to have to fight myself from laughing at the question

#jumblr #jewish #antisemitism #tw antisemtism #jewblr #jewish convert #jewish culture #fromgoy2joy thoughts

[elllisaaa]

how seventeen would confess to you - hhu vers.

-> pairing : svt hhu × gn!reader

-> words count : 2.9k words

-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - INTIMATE

cuddles, cuddles, cuddles !

once he tackled you on the couch or bed and you’re in his arms, you’re not getting up for at least an hour. 

watching long shows together, and you’re forbidden from watching even one episode without him, or he’ll get so pouty. 

big golden retriever energy, he’s always so smiley around you.

but also big on protecting you.

he’s the type to say “dress how you want, i can fight”, and he will definitely fight if needed.

always has an arm around you, making you feel safe in every situation

since both of you are friends since as far as you can remember, he’s like another member of your family.

i can literally picture your aunts asking you when you’re gonna marry him at every gathering lmao

with all of that, the line between friendly and romantic feelings is blurred, but cheol wished he had the courage to fully cross it. 

however, everyone and their mothers knew about his big crush on you, and about yours on him. 

his confession would be so domestic crying because i’m lonely. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to cross paths with Seungcheol late at night. Just like you, he often got thirsty and you always ended up staying in the kitchen until the early hours of morning, and being sleepy at the family gathering. And this time was not different. Well, it was, in fact, a bit different. You had been aboard for the past year and only got back to Korea a few weeks before, so both of you hadn’t really seen each other and you had a lot to catch up on about your lives. 

“- And after that, this bitch didn’t even dare to look me in the eyes for the rest of the year ! Can you believe this ?

- I don’t like to judge people I don’t know, but she’s indeed a bitch.”

Both of you bursted out in laughter, and your heart felt warmer again. It was as if you were finally complete again. Being away from Seungcheol when he had been by your side for the majority of your life was the most difficult thing you ever had to do, and feeling him slip through your fingers as he started to respond less was horrible. He apologized so many times about how busy he was, and you knew it was not his fault, but still, you just wanted to be back home, back in his arms. 

“- Yeah, she definitely is.”

You landed your head on his shoulder with a smile, and Seungcheol feared that you would hear how fast his heart was beating. He was happy for you when you announced to him that you had the opportunity to go aboard for your studies, and he was immensely proud of you. But at the same time, all he wanted to do was convince you to not go and keep you forever with him. But he was only your best friend, and he couldn’t ask you to give up on your dreams for him. But he wished he could be your boyfriend instead. 

“- I have something to confess…”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him as you waited for his next words. Seungcheol eyes’ dived into yours, and he just knew. He knew that this was the right time, that the particular atmosphere surrounding the two of you would certainly never arise again. He had to do it now.

“- The day you left, I came to say goodbye at the airport, remember ?”

You nobbed. How could you not ? He had engulfed you in a big hug  that made you want to stay, and left you with teary eyes as you got on your flight.

“- I never told you what I did after. I drove off to the park we always played at when we were kids, and I cried on the swings for maybe two hours because all I could think about was that you were not with me. And it felt so wrong.”

Your right hand found purchase on his cheek, forcing him to look down at you as he consciously avoided your eyes since he started to tell you his little story. But your soft smile was the only reassurance he needed.

“- It felt wrong being away from you too. I missed you so much Cheol…

- Me too…”

And just like that, you both leaned in at the same time, your lips meeting in between and suddenly, everything felt right again, as if it was where you were supposed to be - in each other arms. 

“next time i’m squeezing myself in your luggage, i don’t want to spend another night without you in my arms.”

JEON WONWOO - SIMPLE

i don’t know how to explain it, but I’m sure you’ll get it when I say that this man is the definition of soft. 

he’s so cozy, every one of his hugs feels like a warm cocoon (that’s why you always find an excuse to get a hug).

very good at giving advice, and a good listener, he’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on. 

you were friends with the other members at first, but slowly, you started to grow closer when he discovered how sweet and lovely you were. 

the more he talked with you, the more he found himself hooked.

literally has heart eyes for you (everyone and their mothers know about his crush on you) and would drop everything if you need him.

of course, he’ll be more than happy if you agreed to play video games with him, it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not 

it’s even better if you never played, he’ll have an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he teaches you how to use the controller. 

but in the end, he’s a simple guy, and he doesn’t see the point of hiding his crush for too long, but he also wants his confession to be meaningful. 

The boys had organized a big party for your birthday this year, and surprisingly, they succeeded at keeping it a secret until tonight. And the past months spent trying to perfect every little detail was worth it when they saw the big smile on your face and your teary eyes when you recognized your friends and family as you walked through the room. 

And even if Wonwoo couldn’t be more happy than seeing you wander around, laughing and smiling non-stop, he felt a weight on his heart. He wanted to steal you away from all these people, have you all for himself and finally tell you how he felt about you, finally tell you how glad he was to have you in his life. But he couldn’t, and he would never do that. He was just waiting patiently for your eyes to meet in the crowd, and for you to smile brightly at him. Every time you did that, his heart beat faster. 

“- Finally ! I’m so happy that everyone came, but I’m exhausted !

- I can imagine, you’ve been running around the whole night.”

You sighed dramatically as you seated yourself on the couch next to Wonwoo, resting your head on his shoulder. Like a habit, he put his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, just because you were so comfortable around each other that everyone else thought you were already dating. 

“- It’s the best surprise of my life. You guys are my favorites. Thank you for doing this for me.

- You deserved it, that and all the presents we prepared for you.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with a sparkle of curiosity in your eyes. 

“- And what’s yours Wonwoo ?”

He had planned to do it later, when everyone would have left, when he’ll have a moment alone with you. But if this wasn’t a sign that he had to do it now, he didn’t know what it was.

“- It’s not something material. It’s more… Spiritual I’ll say.

- It’s intriguing, tell me what it is.

- My heart. I’m offering you my heart, because you already have it, you did for a long time now, and I wanted to let you know, just in case you were feeling the same about me.”

Wonwoo knew how emotional you could get, but he didn’t expect you to cry from his confession. Still, he wiped your tears away, waiting for you to calm down with a soft smile on his face.

“- I feel the same, I’ve been feeling the same for so long. You have my heart too.”

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’ll always protect you.”

KIM MINGYU - JOYFUL

100% golden retriever energy

you would often tease him along with the members (because we all know that seventeen ultimate goal is to make fun of mingyu)

partner privilege : would not get as pouty as with his members, all it takes is a smile from you and you’re forgiven.

however, when you tease him about how being so muscular but so afraid of everything is a shame, he’ll be like a child throwing a tantrum. 

pouting until you compliment him (and cannot stop blushing once you do, he’s so cute someone help me).

tries to impress you all the time by flexing his muscles, showing how strong he is. 

he’s so obvious please, this boy cannot hide his love for you.

follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, just in case you need him (he’s adorable).

he feels so comfortable around you because beyond all the teasing, you’re very understanding and kind. 

you’re always here to remind him how amazing he is every time he doubts himself. 

and because he feels so comfortable around you, his confession would slip like it was the most natural thing ever. 

Mingyu always had a tendency to show off his skills whenever you were in the same room as him. Yes, he felt an incredible ego boost when you complimented him about his muscles, but what he took real pride in was how much he was able to make you laugh. He always feared that his jokes were lame, or just not your type of humor, but every time he cracked one, you bursted into giggles. And by the way you were beaming, there was no way that you were faking it. 

And he always managed to make you laugh in all types of situations, chuckling and resisting the urge of kicking his feet like a teenager everytime you hitted his shoulder playfully as you tried to contain your own giggles. Mingyu was addicted to the way your eyes were glowing with joy everytime you just smiled. However, he discovered that the easiest way to get you to laugh was to tell you all the stupid things his members did. Like now, as you were crying from how funny you found the story of Seungkwan volley ball. 

“- He really only discovered it when he saw that video ?

- Yeah, really ! You should’ve seen the betrayal in his eyes, it was priceless !”

And you were laughing again, your head thrown back, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. But Mingyu wasn’t laughing anymore, too lost in his contemplation, because you were literally a work of art to him. Every single detail about you was perfect, the more he discovered, the more he wanted to be yours.

“- Your smile is so beautiful, gosh… I love you so much…”

The melody of your giggles died as soon as you registered the meaning of his words. Silence enveloped the both of you as you stared at him as if you were trying to enter his mind and find all the answers to your questions. And Mingyu was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, and not embarrass himself further, already cursing himself in his head for being so careless.

“- Wha- What did you say ?”

Mingyu was too focused on his overthinking to notice the little grin spreading on your lips. Of course, you already knew that he had a crush on you. Of course, you had a crush on him too because who doesn’t ? And of course, it was very cute to watch him stumble over his words with red cheeks. 

“- I-I said that you have a beautiful smile…

- And after that ?

- Don’t want to tell you.”

You giggled as you leaned in to peck his warm cheeks, restraining yourself from going in for his pouty lips too.

“- Well, just know that I love you so much too Gyu.”

“see, you heard it perfectly ! but i’ll tell you a hundred times if you want me to.”

CHWE HANSOL - BRIGHT

he’s so random, like one minute he could joke along with you and the other he’s asking you the most existential question possible, fully serious about it. 

like we say vernon is just vernoning in the most vernon way possible. 

he's very chill about pretty much everything so it's really soothing to be around him.

he's your go-to person when you want to isolate yourself from the rest of the world because you could spend evenings just watching tv and not saying a word to each other

there's also times where both of you end up talking about your lives until the early hours of the morning. 

your relationship feels like it's all natural, there has never been an awkward state, only comfort. 

it's like hansol had known you for years because he felt so at ease every time you were with him. 

you made him feel like he was special and normal at the same time, and even if he doesn't show it often, he really appreciates it. 

you two liked to stay inside so it was rare for you to go out somewhere, but it was always unexpected and when it happened. 

hansol knew that you liked to be surprised, and often showed up on his days off to take you somewhere without telling you.

that's why you weren't shocked when he picked you up at 5 in the morning, on a random Sunday. 

“- Can I at least choose the music ?

- Go on.”

Hansol handed you his phone which was connected to the speakers of his car, letting you put on whatever song you wanted. He owed you this with how early he forced you to get out of bed on one of your days off. But he really wanted to take you to this spot he loved. He played it off as one of his random wishes, but he planned this in his mind for a long time, not all the details, but he knew he wanted to bring you there to tell you how he felt. 

He watched with a small smile on his lips as you opened the window, one of your favorite songs playing as you let the wind hit your face and make your hair fly all over your face. Hansol quickly focused on the road again, seeing that he was near your destination, he asked you to close your eyes.

“- Are we there ?

- Almost.”

The rest of the way was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. When you finally felt that Hansol had stopped the car, you heard him go out of the driver seat to get to your side and help you get out too, ordering you to keep your eyes closed. He pushed you to take some steps forward before he finally authorized you to see what was in front of you.

“- You took me to the ocean ?”

You didn’t even turn around to look at him, too entranced by the sight in front of you. And all Hansol could do was smile when he saw how parkly your eyes were. 

“- I guess that I wanted you to see the sunset.”

You were rather speechless as Hansol got a blanket out of his car, leading you to the beach for you two to watch the sunrise on the horizon. He contemplated you as you ran around, touching the water to see if it was cold or not before finally sitting down beside him, your head finding his place on his shoulder, and his arms around yours.

“- Thank you for bringing me there… It’s beautiful…

- I wanted to make it special.”

Before you could even ask him what he was talking about, Hansol leaned in, his eyes fixed on your lips, and yours on his. Basking in the warm light of the sunset, he kissed you for the first time but certainly not the last, a smile spreading on his face as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“i think i could get used to this.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

#kpop #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #seventeen fics #svt fics #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups seungcheol #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #mingyu #mingyu x reader #vernon #vernon x reader #hansol #hansol x reader #hip hop unit #seventeen hip hop unit

[goldenroutledge]

intimidated

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: you’re there for jj when it matters most. (inspired by this post)

warning(s): sprinkles of angst, but fluffy in the end.

a/n: the song i had in mind while writing this was intimidated by kaytranada & h.e.r <3

jj maybank masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

JJ Maybank didn’t need handouts. As he told it, his independence was his most valuable asset. It’s what made him a pogue through and through. “Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish?”— An Epictetus quote JJ scribbled down, bored as ever in his freshman English class. His life motto condensed into twelve simple words, whether his newfound ‘freedom’ was out of his control or not. Either way, he played the cards he was dealt.

His friends— no, scratch that— his family, were his escape to comfort. A soft, pillowy landing from the nose dive that was his life. A foreign concept to him until he met John B, then Pope, then Kiara, then you. A refuge of safety, ironically enough, given the many times you all had looked death in the face.

Even though the pogues had already started wearing matching friendship bracelets that Kiara made by the time you came along, it was a smooth transition when you were welcomed into the group with open arms. By some more than others at first, given your kook status. But just as they’d embraced Kie, your initiation into the group was no different.

While it took time for JJ in particular to come around, his reservations were understandable. At first, you gave him his space and he gave you yours. Always letting him set the tone and lead the way.

As time went on, JJ soon decided he wouldn’t mind having you around him all the time, there was no going back. JJ loved to the point of no return, and it was incomparable to anything— or how anyone else could ever make you feel.

At times, he felt like that was all he had to offer. Nothing but fierce loyalty and protection over the ones he loves most. But you. To JJ, you were the fine line between hideaway and heaven itself. Even if he thought he may not end up there, he was sure that it would be you he’d meet at heaven’s gates.

Amongst any conflict or tension within the group, you always provided a safe haven for him to retreat to, though he had difficulty admitting it. In a way you had a solution for everything. Keeping tensions low and spirits high in the process. You were the original peacemaker of the group, before his precious gun came along.

Right now, it was almost all he could think about while he sat there, beer in hand, listening to John B and Sarah argue in the distance. How he wishes you were here, to ease his nerves and settle the anxiety simmering in his chest.

JJ hated this. He hated that nobody seemed to get along anymore. With all that was going on with the others, he wouldn’t even think to mention his problems. The looming eviction notice on his house, one of few things he had left on this island. While everyone’s lives continued to progress, JJ’s was at a standstill. No job, no parents, and now his friend group was falling apart at the seams. And with everyone else occupied these days, he was alone.

JJ, selfless as usual, would hate to bother you, no matter how badly he wanted to. He knew you’d have some inspirational shit to say to him. Though he’d poked fun at it sometimes, he’d never needed anything more right now.

The sound of footsteps came before JJ saw them, watching Sarah storm off and away from John B as he stood there, tense and silent.

JJ could be hot headed at times, that was no secret. He could understand his friends' quarrels to an extent. But he couldn’t look past the fact that you all were supposed to be sticking together, especially right now. When he said that nothing good could happen once you all returned to Kildare, he knew he was right. Call it a gut feeling.

-

Naturally, Sarah told you everything. Confidant, mom-friend, advisor— all titles bestowed upon you by your close group of friends over the years. You’d always tried to be as neutral as possible in times of conflict. Though in matters of the heart it was nearly impossible.

Days after her fight with John B, she found herself laying on your bed, venting all of her bottled up frustrations about him and the state of their relationship.

“I’m a mess, Y/n. I feel like such a mess.”

You looked at her sympathetically, knowing there wasn’t much you could do. Just listen, just be there in her time of need.

“So, I took my bag from the Chateau and I left. Kie’s parents told me I couldn’t stay, then I went to JJ’s and he wasn’t home. He’s working at Guffy’s again last I heard.”

You briefly glanced up at the mention of JJ’s name— and it didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah. Instead of divulging about it, she continued her rant.

“Then I was just wandering around, because it’s not like I had anything better to do. And who sees me drinking at Tiki Bar? Topper.”

“Topper?”

“Topper.”

You internally cringed at the mention of the Thornton boy. He was always nice when you saw him, nothing bad nor good to say about him. But you knew deep down he was Sarah’s achilles heel. He reminded her of everything she once had, the person she once was. Lately, you couldn’t help but crave some normalcy too.

“So.. what happened?”

She sighs heavily, dropping her hand across her eyes. “We went to Mase.”

“Alone?”

“We went with some people from KDC. The old crew, Kelce, Phoebe…”

“Is that it?”

“We made out.”

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in fear of your reaction, knowing it’d probably show on your face before anything.

“Oh.” You swallowed back any judgment you might’ve had, compartmentalizing your love for John B and choosing to hear Sarah out. “And how do you feel about it?”

“Awful. I mean Topper has been so good to me lately with everything going on, he’s always there to pick up the pieces and I just feel bad. It was a mistake.”

“It can’t happen again, y’know. Not if you want to work it out with John B.”

“I do, I wanna work it out with him.” She urged. “And then the next morning we had breakfast. Kie came into the restaurant and saw us together and I think she got the wrong message. She said she’s staying out of it but I can tell what she’s thinking.” Sarah takes a deep inhale, and a deep exhale to follow. “What do I do, Y/n?”

It still baffles you at times that you’ve become the voice of reason. You hope Sarah doesn’t notice that you feel uneasy about the whole thing. “Just… be honest. Don’t let John B find out from anyone other than you. He’s gonna be upset but he has a right to be.”

The blonde sits up, crawls over to you and envelopes you into her arms. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

-

Sun reflected brightly off the boats docked at the marina, the two smoothie cups in your hand sweating from the sweltering heat. Your family's boat was kept here at Guffy’s; particularly when your parents weren’t in town to cruise around the island and daydrink with their kook friends.

At least you had an alibi, just in case you happened to run into JJ. The two medium strawberry banana smoothies you carried might need some explanation, though.

Ever since you all had made it back to the island, JJ had been hard to track down. He was rarely in one place for too long. So where else better to catch him than at work?

“Y/n? How are you doing today?” Billy questions from a distance away, putting on his friendliest smile for the daughter of his best clients.

“Can’t complain. Happy to be back.”

“And it’s good to have you back. Everything alright with the boat?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine, I just realized I left behind my favorite sunglasses.” You explained, hoping your excuse sounded authentic enough.

“Alright. You take care, now.”

“Actually… I was wondering is JJ around?”

“Maybank? He was here a few days ago.”

“Hm, I could’ve sworn he was working today.”

Billy sighs, eyebrows furrowing. “Listen, Ms. Y/l/n, I know you want to advocate for your boyfriend and all but JJ can’t work here.”

Confusion spread through your features this time as you genuinely had no idea what the man was getting at. You chose to not correct him when he’d mistaken you for JJ’s girlfriend.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid. I know he wants the job back but Guffy put a pin in it. I’m sorry. Really not much I can do.”

You forced a polite smile on your face as the dots connected, remembering the melting smoothie you held in your left hand while your half-finished one remained in your right. The two of you exchanged brief goodbyes before you quickly left the marina.

If JJ really hadn’t been working at Guffy’s again, where the hell was he? His act of disappearing was unmatched, but so was your skill of guessing.

If a game of hide-n-seek is what he wanted, a game of hide-n-seek is what he will get.

-

Grass brushed against your ankles as you approached JJ’s home, your steps careful as you looked around for him.

Going to JJ’s home was forbidden. When Luke was around, that is. He was a phantom— an ugly, dark presence looming over the quaint home that would otherwise feel serene. The chirping birds in the trees couldn’t tell the difference.

You haven't been here many times. The times you had been here weren’t anything you nor JJ wanted to remember. The feeling of uncertainty creeped into your mind from your past visits. You never knew what to expect.

To your left, there was a beautiful, never-ending view of the water past the grass of the Maybank’s yard. You hadn’t noticed that before. This spot had probably seen some beautiful sunsets. In a moment of imagination, you almost pictured sitting there with JJ on the plush green, hand in hand, watching the warm hues of the sky melt into a dark night.

The caution tape wrapping around the wood of the house caught your interest as you made your way onto the porch, also noticing the eviction letter left on the door, moving closer for a better look.

“Y/n?”

JJ called out, appearing from around the corner of his home, startling you out of concentration as you re-read the notice again and again.

As if you didn’t come over to finally see him in the first place. Though you couldn’t speak— for once unsure of what to say. ‘Sorry you’re getting evicted?’, it just didn’t sound right. Then again it might’ve been better than standing frozen and staring at him, silently, like you were doing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- um…. I brought you a smoothie.”

You held out the cup, approaching him and handing it to him. He stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows furrowed. His lips eventually pursed into a smile as a way to say thank you. This wasn’t the relaxed JJ you were accustomed to; nonetheless he was still the JJ you loved.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. The smoothie.”

“You came all the way out here from your mansion on Figure 8 to bring me a smoothie?”

“What?” You scoffed, his tone dictating where the conversation was headed. Most likely nowhere.

“Go back to reading by your pool or something. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I haven’t heard from you in days, JJ. I’m just checking up on you.”

“So what? You touring around the Cut now? Delivering smoothies to lost pogues? Is Heyward’s your next stop?”

He resumed tinkering with his bike, and from the looks of it he was working rather aggressively— desperate to distract himself from the conversation at hand.

“I miss my best friend. Am I not allowed to miss you anymore? I mean it’s not like we were stranded on an island together… not knowing whether we would live or die!”

“Well, we’re not exactly a big happy family right now. You should know that.”

“Yeah. John B and Sarah are on some kind of break. But that doesn’t mean I can’t see you, that doesn’t have anything to do with us. I thought we were past the whole picking sides thing.”

“I’ve been busy.” JJ shrugs.

“Busy working? At the job you lied about having?”

His eyes snapped to yours immediately. Your heart clenched as soon as the words left your mouth, you didn’t mean to go too far. But at least you had his attention.

“What, are you stalking me now? Or did you hire a P.I. to figure that out?”

“Hilarious, JJ. I was at the marina earlier to grab something off my boat. Actually hoping I would run into you but, whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

A few moments of awkward silence lingered between the two of you, as you kicked a pebble around with your foot.

“I know you don’t owe me anything… but you could’ve just told me.”

He paused his movements, thinking about how he was going to respond.

“Tell you what? That I prefer mixed berry over strawberry banana?” He jested, smiling to himself.

“I’m not talking about the smoothie, idiot.”

His eyes drifted over to his home, knowing exactly what you were thinking, just afraid to acknowledge it.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Y/n.”

“And I know that. I just wanna help you, however you’ll let me.”

“Well, you can help me by not helping me. I’ll figure it out. Always do.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here.”

At that, he dropped his tools, running tense hands through his hair. “But you aren’t here! You don’t have to live like this and you should be glad that you don’t!”

He raised his voice at you, frustrated. JJ was never good at putting his feelings into words, especially when it came to actually expressing them.

He didn’t know how he could tell you about everything. The worst day he’s ever had, the lowest he’s ever been. He couldn’t see a way in which he could tell you all of it and carry on the same. You were always a constant in his life. He needed it to stay that way, by any means necessary.

“That doesn’t make sense, JJ. What’s the point of having anything nice if I can’t share it with the people I love?”

The both of you were taken aback at what your explanation implied. In actuality, it took all of your power not to say those three words to him outright. But you couldn’t, not like this.

“You don’t have to pretend to care that much. I’m sure you can find another community service project to focus on.”

“Community service?” You chuckled emptily, baffled at his ridiculousness, though deep down you knew this was how he dealt with things. He simply didn’t know anything other than defensiveness. “That’s what you think this is?”

JJ closed his eyes in exasperation, wishing this conversation away. He could hear it in your voice, your feelings were hurt. Maybe not as bad as when your 8th grade crush asked someone else to the Valentine’s dance— but even a little was too much.

“If you’re gonna reduce our decade of friendship to me doing charity work, I guess there’s no changing your mind. I’m just wasting my breath.”

The words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize instantly, but now he wasn’t sure if his apologies were something you’d wanna hear at the moment. He wasn’t sure if you’d believe him.

For all the disingenuous apologies he’d accepted over the years, he’d hate to put you on the receiving end of one. Even if his heart truly was in the right place, JJ couldn’t muster up the courage to show it.

“You don’t have to antagonize me. Because everything you’re blaming me for, it isn’t my fault. Just like this isn’t your fault either.” You gestured to the eviction notice at his door.

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “You’re right.”

“Say what you want about me, but I just wanna know that you’re okay. And if it’s an apology you’re looking for, you’re not gonna get it. I’ll never apologize for that.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. All he could do was try to understand.

Realizing he had no further comments, you turned your back to leave.

“Will I see you at the Chateau tomorrow?” You asked over your shoulder, hope remaining in your voice despite the uneasiness that remained between you two.

“Don’t count on it.”

“Alright, well… bye.”

JJ waves, before muttering a monotone ‘thanks for the smoothie’ as he watches you go.

-

Since returning to the island, it was an unspoken thing that you all were to meet up at the Chateau at some point. And with all the new developments in your lives lately, these meetings were much needed.

Pope handed you a beer as he came into John B’s living room, opening one of his own as he sat down beside you.

John B and Sarah seemed to be laying low, but it was clear they were back together or had come to some sort of resolution.

Kiara was going on about how much shit her parents had been giving her lately. They’d been hovering— watching over their daughter’s every move from the moment she set foot on the island again.

Pope told the group about how Cleo had won over Heywar in record time, much faster than John B or JJ. Pope’s parents simply wanted the best for him, and knew that the danger and mischief his friends came with couldn’t be productive.

“We’ve been best friends for what…? 13 years?” John B recalls. “And your dad can hardly stand the sight of me but Cleo won him over in a few minutes? How?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Not at all.” John B holds his hands up in surrender to Cleo, Pope smirking beside her as he witnesses the interaction. “Just confused.”

“I have many superpowers, John.”

“Apparently! Winning over Heyward is like, unheard of in this group. At least for JJ and me.” John B explains, sipping his beer.

“Speaking of, where’s he at?”

At the shift in conversation, you can feel several pairs of eyes fall upon you. All you can do is act as normal as possible, tipping off any of your friends always ends badly in the case of keeping a secret. Until the cat’s out of the bag, your friends will make it their personal mission to reveal whatever it is you’re hiding.

You raised your eyebrows, pretending to only catch onto their stares moments later. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“No reason. It’s not like you guys are secretly together or anything.” Pope mutters under his breath, catching a glare from you at his false claim.

“We’re not. I wouldn’t know where he is.”

John B hisses, pretending to shiver. “Is it a little chilly in here? Or is that just Y/n’s cold shoulder?”

You roll your eyes, further proving his point until Sarah chimes in, pondering if she should speak up about what she knows.

“I actually stopped by JJ’s the other day. He.. wasn’t home.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t he go fishing? Probably not back yet.” John B remembers.

“I don’t think he’ll be going home anytime soon.”

At this your eyes meet Sarah’s hazel ones, full of hesitation. You shoot her a look of ‘whatever you’re about to say, don’t’, and you hope she is wise enough to pick up on it.

“Why is that?” Kiara questions, confused.

“He got evicted.” Sarah blurts, regret spreading through her expression as she sees you react; you don’t react. And that slightly terrifies her.

“Really?” Pope asks in disbelief, though not too surprised. More so disappointed that his best friend had to endure this, silently at that.

“Yeah. When was the last time anyone’s heard from him?”

The group silently recollects for a few moments, Kie pulls out her phone to review her latest texts with the man in question.

Instead, you’re wondering how the hell Sarah even knew about this to begin with. How long could she know about this and just stay silent? Forget not telling the group, how long could she keep this from you? How could she not help her friend who was clearly in need of support?

“How long have you known?”

Sarah appears confused, wondering where your line of questioning is coming from.

“I- uh. After John B and I fought I went there, remember Y/n? I was hoping I could stay but he wasn’t home. That’s when I saw the eviction notice.”

“And you waited, I don’t know, a week to bring that up?”

“Y/n, it’s not like I intentionally kept this from you, okay? We know how protective you are over JJ.”

Her words strike a cord within you, already on edge regarding JJ Maybank because of your argument with him the day prior. It was still a sore subject, even more so made by having no one to confide in about it.

“It’s not about that, Sarah. You didn’t even have to tell anyone at all but you didn’t think to maybe find out if he’s okay? At the very least?”

“I was a bit homeless at the time, Y/n, sorry about that.”

“Oh, right. You were too busy hooking up with Topper to care about the well-being of our best friend? Good to know the bare minimum is impossible for you.”

Sarah scoffs, John B shakes his head in exasperation. Kiara stays silent mostly, being no stranger to your and Sarah’s sister-like fights. She couldn’t even disagree with you, though with her parents keeping her on lockdown it was hard to do anything about it. She wasn’t in a place to have an opinion.

Pope and Cleo shared looks, communicating wordlessly as they had grown to do. Being away at Heyward’s kept them out of the loop quite a bit.

“JJ will figure it out, Y/n. Relax.” John B reassured. Though he was defending his girlfriend, now that they were in a ‘good place’ again, you felt anything but reassured at his carelessness around the subject. You’d think of all of you, John B would understand the most.

“Relax? Why should I relax if JJ is in trouble? If anything, you’re too relaxed!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you don’t have to take it out on Sarah, this isn’t even her fault! Not all of us want to fight your battles.”

“If you had any sense left you’d realize this isn’t about me. This is about our friend, who I thought we all cared about. At least enough to share this kind of news. We’re talking about his well-being here, I mean he’s losing the house he grew up in and nobody seems to care about that?”

“If he wanted us to know, he’d tell us.”

“Like he’s ever going to do that! You know better than anyway that he won’t!”

“It’s not my problem.”

“Mhm. It’s a shame JJ’s busy solving all of yours.”

“Y/n, please. Can we just have a chill night?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his ‘best friend since the third grade?’ Because you don’t fucking act like it.” You huffed, standing up to get rid of your beer can. At this point you were rambling to yourself, more than okay with the group hearing what you really thought about them and their carelessness for the situation.

“Indeed. Which is why I don’t need to force him to tell me shit, okay?”

“Why are you such an asshole, John B?”

“Y/n, I just found my dad. So, excuse me if JJ’s living situation isn’t at the forefront of my mind.”

“I never said it had to be, but you’re acting like you don’t even care!”

“I do care! We all do!” John B shouts. “And maybe if you’d let up on him he’d actually come to you about this stuff!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, maybe JJ would give you the love you so desperately crave if you weren’t fucking suffocating him.”

“John B!” Kiara warns.

Sarah held her face in her hands, knowing John B had crossed the line. Maybe he had one too many beers in his system. Either way, hell was about to break loose. And when it came to JJ, hell hath no fury like you did.

Your head felt like it was about to explode. How could your friends seem to be so comfortable with this? The same friends that claimed to leave no pogue behind, to never turn their back on one of their own.

If that was true, then what was this? From the looks of it, nobody even pretended to give a damn.

“You’re fucking terrible, John B. This isn’t even about me at all! You just can’t stop deflecting from what a shitty friend you are. I mean, JJ would die for literally every last one of you guys. And he almost did! On multiple occasions! But instead you’re gonna neglect the one person who's seen you through all your bullshit and as soon as it’s over you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened? Like the Earth is back on its axis? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, John B. That’s just not- that’s not something you do to someone you love.”

There wasn’t a need to announce your departure, as it was so quiet inside that you could hear your own breathing.

As hard as it was to fight with John B like that, you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted off your chest. Your spirit was lighter. It was therapeutic, really. So therapeutic you felt peaceful enough to go home and take the longest nap ever recorded, maybe in John B’s own hammock just to prove a point.

Entranced in your own thoughts, you didn’t even register JJ resting in the hammock himself, hands intertwined behind his head. Not asleep, but wondering what your next words will be. The walls of the Chateau were thin enough, echoes of your voices amplified by the open windows.

He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t notice his presence or if you were flat out ignoring him, walking past like he was invisible. Testing the waters, he called out from behind you.

“I never really thanked you for the smoothie.”

You froze in your tracks, face heating up and muscles tensing at the thought of the argument he probably just heard and decided not to barge in on.

“It’s alright. Wasn’t looking for praise.”

JJ met you halfway, taking note of your tired eyes and your feet dragging against the grass.

“So, what? You’re picking fights for me now?”

“You heard?”

“I think Ward Cameron heard. All the way from Guadalupe.”

“Stop it.” You warned, cracking a smile for a split second. JJ was good at that. Making you smile no matter the circumstances. “I stand up against injustice. That’s all.”

“Then are you still mad at me?”

“About what?”

“Yesterday. The whole… note on door situation.”

“Could never be mad at you, JJ. Especially not about that.”

He softly smiles, one that you return. It’s been a long time since you’d shared a small moment like this. Too long.

He gestures for you to come closer and slide into his arms as he’d held them out for you, just like you belong there.

“I am sorry, though.” JJ mumbles the words softly, almost into the crook of your neck as if he was speaking to you and you only. “I know you’re just trying to stick around for me.”

“Yeah. Just trying to be wherever you are.”

“You don’t have to fight for me, y’know.” I’m already here. Though you may not have caught on instantly, nothing he’s ever said has made as much sense.

“Sorry, J. Sometimes I just feel like we don’t deserve you. Like I don’t deserve you.” You admitted sheepishly.

JJ scoffs, and you’re not sure why. He’s often sarcastic, but it’s hard to tell what he’s really thinking in these situations.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/n?”

Your eyes meet his, hesitation behind them.

“You’re the one who doesn’t deserve me? Is that a joke?”

You looked at him as if it were obvious, like the line had already been drawn in the sand. This fact had already been decided; there was no going back, not now, and not ever.

“I know I’m not the smartest person, okay, but you’re making no sense.”

“Come again?” You asked, equally as confused as he was. It was incredulous for anyone to believe JJ of all people wasn’t worth it— as if he wasn’t worth someone who would go to the ends of the Earth for him, someone who would defend him six ways to Sunday. There was no one in your life more deserving of such a thing.

“Listen, Y/n...”

“No! You listen. Nobody should treat you like that. Especially our friends! As if their problems are bigger than yours or something. It’s just fucked up for any one of them to act like they don’t care because I know deep down, they do. They care just like I do but they just suck at showing it. Mostly John B. He sucks the most. And I’m not exempt either, I mean I should’ve checked on you sooner-”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” JJ interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“I know that. I just want to love you. Because I really do. I really love you, JJ. Like bad. So bad that it’s probably sad at this point but I really don’t care anymore! Not about what John B has to say, not about anything, because I’ll never regret it. I’ll never wish that I didn’t love you.”

That stupid weight again, feeling as if it’s taking off like a rocketship and leaving your conscience for good. It makes you want to scream the words from the rooftops. Over and over and over again.

Confessing feels good, but kissing JJ feels damn euphoric. His lips are on yours before you can even register what’s happening, too busy being self-aware to realize the way his eyes turned glossy, or the way he’s gently got one hand on your waist and one hand caressing your cheek.

“He’s got it all wrong. I love you, too.” JJ confesses after pulling away from you, briefly taking his eyes off yours to glance at the Chateau. His head shakes as he says it, that starry glint in his eyes so undeniably present. “So bad.”

He earns a giggle out of you as he mocked your words to him just a few moments ago. But now, things were changing. He couldn’t stand before you and pretend he didn’t feel the way he did. Not anymore, not ever again.

Not after you’d shown your love for him so confidently to everybody, time and time again. JJ Maybank wasn’t sure about many things in life, but you weren’t one of them. This was surely the best decision he’d made in years.

“Come over.” You whine between kisses, breaking him out of his trance. If you let him, he’d kiss you forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

JJ raises his eyebrows, smirking.

“For dinner. We’re having sloppy joes.”

JJ, unresisting temptation, leans in again and moans against your lips dramatically. “What about dessert?”

You give his hair a tug and kiss the smirk off his face, whispering to him a secret.

“And maybe dessert.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + jj maybank taglist: @destourtereaux

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks imagine

[usereddie]

k but rewatching 2x01 and it's gotta be Buck's pov of ugh, this new guy who's all handsome and perfect or whatever

Be curious about Eddie's pov bc I feel like it would be 70% Panic like omg pls don't mess this up and also 30% Gay Panic like why doesn't the pretty guy like me :(

(fair warning, this may have spiraled past 2x01......a lot. bear with me.)

i don't think we've ever gotten eddie's pov the way we've gotten buck's (2x01 and 7x04 for example) HOWEVER i do think we more or less know who buck is from eddie's pov through his actions.

which, considering their characters, tracks so hard.

buck didn't realize he was queer until a man quite literally kissed him on the mouth. seeing eddie from buck's pov is safe because buck has no idea what his feelings are. we watched buck's complicated feelings of jealousy towards eddie unfold TWICE and neither time did he realize what the feelings actually were (physical attraction and y'know. being in love with the guy). buck's pov is one we're allowed to see through as the audience, because it's not actually gonna tell us much, seeing as buck hasn't realized anything.

eddie, though?

reservoir of catholic guilt eddie? the guy who had panic attacks about the idea of being married to his girlfriend? the same man who was diagnosed repressed by a cardiologist?

he knows. he knows and he's been pushing it down since he and buck met, and if we were to ever see buck through eddie's eyes it'd give away everything. the eddie we've seen through buck's pov is just. pure golden sunshine, laughter, love, and buck's best friend in the whole fucking world. buck's best friend that he's in love with, sure, but buck hasn't put those dots together yet, so we, as the audience, won't see that.

buck, to eddie, is home. is family and warmth and comfort. and, obviously, eddie is the same to buck, but eddie knows this. eddie is fully and completely aware of who buck is to him, he's just shoving it all the way down. eddie gave buck a place to land ("it's eddie's house, i'm not really a guest"), eddie trusts buck wish christopher more than he trusts his parents with christopher (ramon and helena saying to eddie 'don't drag him down with you' and him leaving for LA -> eddie saying to buck 'there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you' after the tsunami), eddie let buck in when he was at his absolute lowest.

and, you know.

the will.

we've talked about it a half dozen million times in this fandom but we're gonna talk about it again because it's brain melting. we've never seen buck through eddie's eyes but we've seen exactly who he is to eddie through his actions. eddie trusts buck. eddie needs buck to know he has a reason to stay, that eddie and chris are his reasons to stay. eddie told buck flat out that his life means something. that buck thinks he's not worth anything but he's wrong because he means everything to eddie. eddie loves him.

eddie loved him when he held his hand when buck got pinned under a firetruck and eddie loved him when he dropped chris off before the tsunami and he still loved him when the water went back to the sea and eddie loved him when buck sued the city because the worst part of the whole lawsuit was how much he fucking missed him and eddie loved him when he was trapped under a well and all he could think about was his son and how, if he goes too soon, christopher deserves to be with someone who will love him the way eddie does and eddie loved him when he thought buck was the last thing he was ever gonna see, bleeding out on the streets of los angeles and eddie loved him when he told buck in the only way he knew how to (because, evan) and eddie loved him through panic attacks and mental breakdowns and lightning strikes and new girlfriends and a broken ankle and a new boyfriend because there is no version of eddie diaz that isn't in love with evan buckley.

and eddie knows that.

which is why we don't see it.

#sorry this got so long but this makes me crazayyyy #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bia gets mail #anon #buddie meta

[suuuupernovaaa]

kxeyey

kxeyey [ˈk’ɛ.jɛj] n. error, mistake

Anonymous Request: Could you maybe write one neteyam × omaticaya reader where she makes a mistake and he gets super angry and gives her the silent treatment for a long time. She apologises many times and then he finally forgives her. Please make it super angsty with a happy ending.

During a fun day out, you make a mistake that gets Tuk hurt, and Neteyam is furious with you.

1,545 words

For weeks, maybe even longer, Tuk had been begging me to take her riding with me. She loved it, and almost never got to do it, as her family really babied her - but of course, she was the baby of the family.

Neteyam was maybe the most guilty of this, and even though he loved and trusted me, he had banned me from taking his youngest sister on a ride.

I’d said no over, and over, and over again... but it was really impossible to resist Tuk. I was a competent rider, and really didn't see what harm it could do, especially if we just took a short ride.

She was elated when I agreed, and we snuck away under the guise of fishing. I was sure Neteyam would be suspicious, with Tuk practically vibrating in excitement, but he trusted me.

It did make me feel kind of bad... but at some point, they needed to let Tuk have some real experiences. She was nearly fourteen, and should have been choosing her own Ikran soon, but they wouldn't even let her ride along with them.

She climbed the mountain swiftly just behind me, as I called to Min, my Ikran. She landed before us quickly, and Tuk clapped her hands in excitement. I mounted, making the connection, and pulled Tuk to sit in front of me. I was still quite a bit taller than her, and could tuck her safely there.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yes!"

We took off, shooting straight down at first, and Tuk let out a peal of delighted laughter. It warmed my heart, to hear her enjoying herself so much. Her life was full of such rules and protection - she needed to let loose, just every once in a while.

Every turn and twist delighted her. It was the most fun either of us had experienced in a while - until it wasn't.

The other Ikran came out of nowhere, aggressive, which was unusual. We were near the mountain side, and before I could get control, Min turned, smashing us into the rocks at a high speed.

"Fuck!" I screamed as my shoulder bashed into the rocks. Tuk screamed, and I wrapped my arm around her. There was blood, but I couldn't tell whose it was. "Min, up!" I screamed, and she pulled away from the mountains and straight up, then back down towards the forest. Tuk slumped against me, and I held her tightly there as we flew.

Min landed in the trees, and I dismounted, pulling Tuk down with me.

Her eyes were open, but there was blood all over her face from a large gash in her head, to match the one on my arm. I examined her, and didn't see any other wounds.

"Come, we must see Mo'at," I said, pulling her along, wrapping my arm around her waist.

"I'm okay, Y/N," she said, but her voice was shaking - she was scared. Now, she would never fly her own Ikran, and the Sullys would never speak to me again.

--

Mo'at had her cleaned up and her wound almost sewn together when Neytiri and Neteyam arrived.

Neytiri, full of motherly concern, went right to Mo'at and Tuk, comforting her daughter and assessing the situation.

Neteyam was mad. Furious. He pulled me gruffly by my arm out of the hut.

"What were you thinking?" he chastised, spitting out his words under his breath. "You could have killed my sister, and you lied to me!"

"I-"

"No!" he said, his voice rising, turning heads our direction. "I don't even want to hear you speak. I don't want to talk to you or see you. You risked her life today. That is unforgivable."

My mouth fell open, and then closed into a hard, thin line.

"I am sorry, Neteyam."

He raised his hand and looked away, clearly dismissing me. So I went.

--

For days, I stayed away. I tried to apologize every time I saw him, but he would not so much as turn his head in my direction.

I apologized to the entire Sully family. Everyone was eager to forgive - even Jake, who admitted the injury wasn't that bad and Tuk was more eager than ever to hop on an Ikran of her own - but Neteyam acted as if I had never existed.

It was devastating the first few days. Neteyam and I had never gone so long without talking, and I didn't know what to do with myself. The guilt and sadness were eating me alive; I could barely sleep, or eat, or talk to anyone else.

If I was being honest with myself, I did not feel bad for taking Tuk on that ride. I was sorry she got hurt, but I was not sorry we had gone.

I was sorry for having lied. It was wrong, to lie to the man who would be my mate, and I had to face the fact that my lie might have cost me the most important person to me.

After eight days, I gave up trying to apologize. He had turned me away over a dozen times, and it made me sick to my stomach to think of trying again. So, I avoided the entire Sully family, and then, I began avoiding everyone.

I spent almost every waking hour hunting, or fishing, or riding, or doing any other solitary activity I could think of that would keep my mind off of how I had ruined my life.

Fourteen days had passed, six since I had spoken to anyone besides Min, three since I had consumed anything besides water. I was beginning to wonder how long I could go on like this.

I would have to do it forever, if Neteyam did not forgive me.

Crouching by the river, I cleaned my knives after my latest kill, which was packed up to be returned to our clan. I would drop it off, and turn right back around after grabbing some dried fruits and meats, and return to the forest alone.

A rustling in the leaves behind me set me on edge, and I turned slowly, a wet knife in each hand, while remaining in a crouching position.

Neteyam stood at the forest's edge, his hands up in a surrender.

I was surprised by how angry I felt when I saw him. Sometime in my solitude, my regret and anguish had turned to anger that he could punish me so long for a mistake.

Turning away, I put my knives back in the water to give them a final rinse, and then tucked them away in their holsters across my chest.

"Y/N," Neteyam said.

I picked up the freshly wrapped kill, stood up, and turned to him. Though I had dreamed of nothing but him speaking to me for the last fourteen days, I didn't have anything to say now. I had apologized more times than I could count, and I did not want to do it again.

My punishment did not fit the crime.

"Neteyam. I must bring this to our people."

I moved to walk past him, but he reached out and put his arm across my chest, stopping me where I stood.

When I turned to face him, our noses nearly touched.

"Let me go."

He looked me over, from head to toe, and pursed his lips. "You look ill."

I pushed his arm away. "Yes."

Once again, I tried to make my exit, but he grabbed my arm more forcefully, causing me to drop my kill to the ground.

"Bah!" I exclaimed, my eyesight becoming blurred by the tears gathered in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Neteyam said, still gripping my arm too tightly. "I'm... unbelievably sorry."

The tension I carried in my body for the last two weeks snapped, and I crumbled to the ground, feeling exhausted, dirty, and hungry.

Neteyam sank down with me, and pulled me into his arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered over and over, while rocking me back and forth like a small child.

"I'm sorry too. I should not have lied."

He leaned back, and grabbed my right arm, examining the freshly healed wound there. It was long, and jagged, and would leave quite a scar.

"I never... I didn't even notice, Y/N," he said quietly, tears gathering in his eyes. "I have not proven to you that I would be a good, faithful mate."

"Neither have I."

He took my face into his hands. "What you did gave Tuk the courage to claim her Ikran, and showed my family that we were holding her back. She has had been with her new sister, He'li, the past seven days."

My heart swelled with joy. "That's wonderful."

Neteyam pressed a kiss to each of my cheeks, under my eyes, tasting my salty tears.

"I will never hurt you like this again, Yawntutsyìp," Neteyam told me, his voice breaking. "Never." I pressed my forehead to his, taking in deep, calming breaths. "Forgive me, Y/N."

"Of course I forgive you. I love you, Neteyam. I will always love you."

He kissed me then, and the pain of too many days spent apart was in that desperate kiss.

I knew neither of us would make this mistake again.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #avatar twow #neteyam fic

[jakegasm]

again.  | jake sully 

genre: angst ♧ (sorry but i’m a whore for angst) 

pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (mentions of neytiri) 

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a few swear words(maybe), betrayal (if you want to count that as a warning), and just pure heartbreak 

brief info: you are the younger sister of neytiri, always living in her shadow. your parents glorifying the things she accomplished, leaving you in the dust. until a certain dream walker comes along making you feel like you were living a dream, but sadly all dreams do not come true. 

notes: i’ve been obsessed with sad songs and I thought why not start off with some broken hearts. enjoy! :) 

part 2!

Maite: my daughter

Laughter. 

That’s all you heard as you found yourself lost in your thoughts again, your heart sinking deeper and deeper into your stomach as you watched them. The way they laughed with one another, the way their hands landed on top of the other's thigh when one said something funny, or the way he looked in awe as she laughed. Your stomach twisted at the sight. 

“Maite, you are quiet.” your head snapped towards the sound of your mother, Mo’at, blinking back into reality, scanning your parents' hut as you all ate dinner together your eyes stopping briefly on him. “Yes, you have been very quiet since we started dinner.” your older sister, Neytiri, interjected sharing the same concerned look as your mother. 

“I am fine.” you said softly making sure you shot your mother a sad but convincing smile before dropping your head down towards your hands that rested in your lap, your fingers suddenly becoming very interesting. “I am just not hungry tonight.” you added on as your head still hung low, swallowing hard as a familiar lump started to form in your throat. 

“You did not eat this morning either, child. Are you feeling unwell?” Yes. Yes, you were. Your heart was feeling unwell. You had to sit with your family watching as the man who saved you from the shadows of your sister…fall in love with her and not you. It was never you. As much as you were used to it, you still couldn’t get over the fire that started in your chest or the way you could feel your heart break little by little any time he was around. 

“No. No mother I am fine.” you cleared your throat to cover up the quiver that shook your voice a little as you spoke. Blinking rapidly you tried your best to get rid of the tears that threatened to spill. “Mother? May I be excused?” the quiver in your voice much clearer than before, causing your mothers’ interest to rise in your sudden sadness. “Yes, you may.” you wasted no time rising to your feet, slightly bowing toward your mother and the couple across from you. “Thank you for dinner mother. I will see you in the morning.” you rushed out before darting your way out of your mothers’ hut just quick enough before she noticed the tears that had formed in your eyes. 

Tears blurred your vision, yet you still tried to blink them away as much as possible. Carefully you hopped from one tree branch to the other, safely climbing down to the one place you truly felt like you belonged. The tree of voices. 

The purple hue illuminated brightly as you walked through, hands brushing against the vines as you made your way to your usual spot. Slowly you sat down, closing your eyes you took a deep breath taking note of the crispy air that surrounded you. You felt it. The silence consumed you and you felt something in you finally break, sending the tears that had threatened to spill finally overflowing onto your face. Your body slightly shook as you sobbed, your mind racing with the images of your sister and the man you were in love with. Their smiles at each other, the small exchanges they’d give each other their eyes filled with adoration, it was all too much. Too much to bear. 

“Oh great mother, please.” you sharply took in a breath as you spoke, “Please stop this pain. I do not wish to be in pain anymore.” you cried out, you clamped your hand down on your mouth to prevent the loud sobs that started to leak past your lips, hoping to drown out how loud you actually were. What did you do in your life to be caused so much heartache? Was Eywa punishing you? Haven’t you been punished enough? You lived in your sister's shadow, always being pushed to the back as your sister was praised for all her accomplishments. You understood though. Your sister has always been the golden child. She had the beauty, the brains, the empathy, all of the things to be a perfect daughter. And you? Oh, you were just her younger sister, training to be a tsahik like their mother. Though that was never praised upon when it came to you. You were never in the eye of praise. 

Crunching leaves quickly broke you out of your fits of sobs, snapping your head towards the sound. Your breathing struggled to steady as you carefully observed the area of the noise, eyes moving frantically until they stopped on a tall figure approaching closer. The figure became clearer as they stepped into the purple hue of the tree causing that sickening feeling in your stomach to return. “You okay?” he spoke to you, his voice soft and concerned. You said nothing, turning your attention toward the small stream that rushed in front of you. With a grunt, he sat down next to you his attention was also on the stream, neither of you spoke. The quietness surrounding you turned awkward, scrunching his eyebrows he searched for something to talk about. 

“Why are you here?” your voice broke out, sounding so dry yet filled with so much emotion. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it as he realized he didn’t know why. “Did my sister send you?” again your voice spoke, only this time he noticed the hint of sadness that lingered on every word. Shaking his head, he let out a soft sigh, “No. No she didn’t. I came here all on my own.” he pushed out finally turning his head towards you only to find you already looking at him. Your eyes are slightly puffy with the evidence of dried-up tears on your face, they looked at him full of sadness. Full of pain. Though a small smile broke out on your face snapping him away from your eyes. “My hero. Coming to save the day once again.” you joked turning your eyes away from him once more leaving him to stare at the side of your face, watching as he saw your face fall once more. Your ears pointed downwards pressing against your head, your tail swatting softly among the grass underneath you both. Knees brought up to your chest, you rested your chin upon your knees. 

He watched you. Closely this time. The cool night air blew gently, blowing your hair away from your face, leaving the two braids that resided on the side of your face untouched. He found himself admiring the way your hair looked as the wind blew, your hair cascading down your arms hanging loosely with a few braids thrown here and there decorated with colorful beads. He always noticed how your hair was rarely braided, your reasoning being that your mother was too rough and Neytiri always took too long so you always opted out of the braiding process. Watching attentively he noticed one of your braids had fallen into your face, before allowing you to realize the fallen hair he quickly found himself reaching a hand out, gently pushing and locking the braid behind your drooped ear. The sudden gesture shocked you, your eyes widened snapping to his expecting the same reaction you held, though you were met with different ones. 

His eyes were soft, just as soft as the smile he wore on his lips his teeth just barely showing. “You know…your hair is really beautiful.” your heart picked up its pace, your eyes desperately searching his waiting for him to admit he was joking, though it never came. You couldn’t form any words to say back, only his were rapidly repeated through your mind. 

Beautiful. 

Though it was a small gesture it still made your heart flutter, but as quickly it fluttered it turned into a sharp pain as you remembered him and your sister. You shook your head as if you were trying to shake his recent words out of your mind. You looked towards the sky this time, watching the stars as they glistened and twinkled so tenderly. 

“You shouldn’t say that to someone who is not your mate.” Your statement confused him, furrowing his eyebrows he looked off to the side. Did he say something wrong? He didn’t think he did. Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and back to you, though you were still looking up toward the sky. 

“You must return home. My sister must be worried about you.” 

“She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine…You know…” he started waiting for your eyes to land on his, and when they did he continued. “You never answered my question.” Though you thought the sudden hitch in your breathing wasn’t that loud, he heard it. He heard how shaky it was as you inhaled and exhaled, controlling the familiar feeling of tightness in your chest.

“I am fine.” Your answer irritated him a bit. You were lying and he knew it. You bit your lip to stop it from quivering and showing him that you were about to crumble all over again by the small question. 

“The truth. I want to know how you’re really feeling.” He pushed, his body now turned fully towards you. His hand came to rest gently atop your shoulder,  you felt like your body had been engulfed in flames when he touched you, you even contemplated throwing yourself into the stream to cool off. Instead, you shrugged off his hand standing. 

“I told you. I am fine.” He shook his head not believing you. Not even a little bit. 

“Nah, someone who is “fine” doesn’t cry the way you just were a few moments ago.” 

You were caught and you knew it. He knew he caught you in your lie as well, noticing how you bit onto your lip harder, your hands balled up at your sides. Your face contorted, and that's when he saw it clear as day. He saw the way gravity drove down your shoulders painting a picture of your heart as if neither it nor your soul would welcome a beat. He saw it in your eyes that your brain has built some new walls with you so lonely on the other side. Wondering if you'll give him a chance to help you take them down brick by brick. 

“That is none of your concern.” Your voice spoke harshly, though he knew you were trying to prevent yourself from crying again. He stood along with you his body towering over your smaller one he approached you cautiously, something he had learned to do in fear of getting hit like the many times he had been by Neytiri. His hands were out in front of him reaching to rest a comforting hand on you once again until you jerked away from him. 

“Hey, hey I mean no harm. I just want to know what’s wrong.” He defended himself by throwing his hands in a surrender position. 

“You! You are what is wrong Jake Sully!” You snapped. And like before, he was confused. You were upset because of him? His mind raced with all the possible reasons why you were upset with him. Was it because he was taking your sister away from you? Yeah. Yeah, that had to be the reason. 

Clearing his throat he spoke, “Okay…Okay, I get it. This is about my relationship with your sister.” You felt like time had stopped. He knew?  He knew and he let you suffer for so long? The sadness that once rested within you quickly turned into anger, your breathing picking up. 

“I know. I get it. And I'm sorry about the way things are going but-”

“You knew?”

“Yes. I–I mean no. No, I just realized it now. I haven’t always known this and please listen to me when I say that I, deeply and greatly do apologize for any pain that I have caused you. And that I can understand why you are so upset with me.”

Sorry? He was sorry? He watched you suffer every day and yet did nothing to help mend your heart. Yes, this was very selfish of you to think but you didn’t care.

“You. Are not sorry. If you were, you would have helped me. Helped me to understand this heartbreak and how I could get over this—this stupid feeling.” You spoke, your accent leaking through certain words. 

“You do not care for me like I thought you did. Your heart is strong yet it is ill. So ill.” 

What in the world were you going on about? He thought. He thought this was about Neytiri and him. He brought his gaze to the ground searching it hoping an answer would be written into the glowing grass where they stood. 

And then it hit him. Hard. His eyes widened at the realization, his mouth a gape, quickly looking into yours that had welled up with thick tears. You were breaking, your knees threatening to give out beneath you. 

“No…No, no that can’t be.” Was all he could manage to get out of his mouth, his mind now racing rapidly. It was now all making sense. Your early dismissal from the dinners he shared with your family, the sad look in your eyes whenever he caught you looking at him, avoiding your sister when asked to tag along on an outing only to turn down the offer when his name was mentioned. It all made sense now. 

Your heart was breaking by the second. This was a moment you’ve always wanted to happen, though it wasn’t going how you hoped and imagined. There were no hugs filled with so much warmth, no kisses that were shared, and no feelings that were reciprocated. All you were met with was a blank stare and eyes that pitied you, he was trying to figure out how to let you down gently, you thought. 

You weren’t about to stand here and wait for that though. You were hurting enough. 

You rushed past him, your feet moving quickly enough to get away from him. You didn’t make it far though. His hand gripped your arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt you, he waited for your eyes but they never came. 

“I can’t do this to your sister.” His voice came out as much as a whisper. You chewed on your lip, your lip probably raw by now with how much you gnawed on it tonight. “I know. That is why I am not asking anything of you.” You swallowed down a sob that dared to escape your lips. 

“You are not mine, Jake. You never will be. I understand that.” Peering ever so slightly over your shoulder you gave him the best smile you could muster up, “Besides, Eywa makes no mistakes.” his grip loosened slightly hearing that his own ears now drooping flushing against his head. You slipped your arm out of his hold continuing your original route daring not to look back, finally letting the tears that threatened to escape go. It was settled. He will never be yours nor you his. 

Your sister won. 

Again. 

_______________________________________

WOO, that was a doozy. It hurt but like I said im a whore for this kind of stuff lol, so its a good hurt. I hope you all enjoyed and hurt just as much as I did! Much love !

angel <3

#avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully angst #avatar angst #neytiri #neteyam #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #loak sully

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Push the Sky Away - Part Two

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Lorra Stark) Chapter warnings: Angst. Canon typical sexism and violence. Word count: ~7.1k

Summary: Lorra and Aemond get to know each other, and Aemond grapples with the idea of what it means to be a husband. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @sapphirehearteyes. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Time feels as though it freezes for Aemond, stretching on for an eternity as he stares into Lorra’s eyes. He searches the depth of her gaze for any indication of fear or disgust, confused when he sees neither. He has never wanted quite so desperately to know what another person is thinking.

He is broken from his thoughts by the voice of his mother. “Lady Stark,” Alicent says warmly, “welcome to King’s Landing. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Please forgive the King’s absence, he is eager to greet you, however, he must rest for the good of his health. I trust your journey was a safe one?”

Lorra looks away from Aemond, turning her attention to Alicent, and smiles. It lights up her delicate features in a way that makes warmth swirl uncomfortably in his chest, and he forces himself to divert his attention, fixing his eye upon the furthest wall of the Great Hall, a feeble attempt to calm himself.

“Thank you, Your Grace. It is an honour to be here and to meet you, and I look forward to meeting the King soon, please send him my regards until then. My guards ensured my travel from Winterfell was uneventful.”

Aemond’s eye widens, looking back at her as he hears her speak. He has had few dealings with those of the North, but had not expected her voice to sound quite so different from those who occupy King’s Landing. Lorra is soft spoken, though there is a lilt to her accent that lifts and subtly elongates the vowels of her words. It fascinates and horrifies him in equal measure.

“I had anticipated that we would be hosting the entirety of the Stark family, my lady,” Otto interjects. “Where are Lord Stark and Lady Glover?”

“Back in Winterfell, Ser Hightower,” Lorra responds matter of factly. “I hope it is agreeable to you, but I have asked my mother and father to delay their arrival so that I am free to become acquainted with my betrothed without the pressures of formality.”

Aemond feels his throat run dry as she says this. 

What precisely is she expecting of him?

Otto bristles slightly, clearing his throat. “Delay their arrival for how long?”

“Six months.”

Aemond’s mouth falls open, his chest tightening as Aegon titters quietly beside him, clearly finding the entire display amusing.

“That is most–” Otto begins, cut off as Alicent steps forward, taking Lorra’s hands in hers.

“That is most wonderful,” the Queen interrupts. “We look forward to meeting the rest of the Stark family when they arrive. We will be hosting a welcome feast for you this evening, in the meantime we’ll have you escorted to your chambers, so you can get settled. You must be weary after such a long journey.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lorra smiles and Aemond watches as her delicate fingers intertwine with those of his mother’s. He wonders whether her hands would feel soft against his own, and quickly shakes his head as if to clear the thought from his mind.

It isn’t until the bustle of people filing out of the Great Hall breaks him from his reverie that Aemond realises they have not uttered a word to each other since her arrival. He watches her as she walks away, and as though his stare beckons her to him, she looks back over her shoulder at him, giving him the subtlest of winks. He immediately lowers his gaze, feeling his skin flush warmly.

She is unspeakably crass.

Aegon has not budged an inch from where he stands, a lecherous smirk plastered across his face as he eyes his younger brother with amusement.

“Fuck off,” Aemond hisses, striding away to return to his own quarters.

He is restless, opting to pace the length of the room instead of sitting; he finds each time he takes a seat he fidgets to the point that he irritates himself, standing once more and allowing his feet to carry him aimlessly.

Books cannot hold his concentration, every attempt to lose himself in a philosophical tome is fruitless, Lorra’s presence has unnerved him too much. Her looks, her voice, her self assuredness were all far beyond the realm of what he had imagined. It rattles him that she has foregone the presence of her mother and father, he does not understand what she expects of him, and the fact that she had had the audacity to wink at him as she walked from the Great Hall makes his pulse quicken in a way that no amount of deep breaths can calm.

Perhaps she simply means to torment him for her own amusement?

Later that evening, having been alerted by a page boy that supper is to be served, Aemond is slow to make his way down to the dining hall. He immediately regrets his hesitation upon taking in the seating arrangements.

Otto and Alicent sit at one side of the long, wooden table, with Aegon to Otto’s right at the head of it. Helaena sits on the opposite side, to Aegon’s right, with Lorra seated next to her. The only available chair remaining is at the opposing head, between his mother and Lorra. Unsurprisingly, Viserys is absent.

A group of musicians play softly in the corner, the sounds of vielle, harp, psaltery and flute carry a dulcet tune throughout the candlelit space, as serving staff place platters of steaming food and jugs of wine upon the table.

He pulls out the seat, keeping his eye fixed upon the tabletop, grimacing inwardly at the loud scrape of the legs against the flagstone floor. He can feel every set of eyes in the room upon him and he detests it, muttering a quiet thank you to Alicent as she places a slice of roasted venison upon his plate.

Aemond allows himself to glance at Lorra. Her dark curls are free of the braid she wore earlier, her hair framing her soft face, and falling almost to her elbows in soft waves. No longer wearing her travelling cloak, he can see that her figure is svelte, the lines of the grey and white brocade gown she wears hug her subtle curves and bare the pale flesh of her shoulders.

He feels his mouth run dry at the sight and lifts his goblet to his lips, eager for relief. The tart taste of Dornish red envelopes his tongue. His mother has made a big effort this evening; musicians, Dornish wine, roasted venison. It all seems ridiculously over the top to Aemond for something that is nothing more than a mere formality.

“Such lovely music,” Lorra comments, nodding towards the corner where it plays. She fixes Aemond with her big blue eyes. “Do you dance, My Prince?”

“No,” he replies simply, glancing her way as he sets his wine down upon the table. He does not trust himself to speak further, he fears the pounding of his heart in his chest will cause his voice to falter.

“Aemond can dance though,” Alicent says with a proud smile, leaning slightly forward to address Lorra. “Him, Aegon and Helaena all learned as children.”

“I love to dance,” Helaena tells Lorra dreamily, leaning her elbows on the table’s edge.

“Does Aegon ever dance with you?” Lorra asks, turning to look at her.

Helaena shakes her head. “No, he is usually in his cups, and he trips on my skirts.”

“Would you like to dance, Princess?”

His sister nods enthusiastically, taking Lorra’s hand as she offers it out, and once more Aemond feels envy rise acridly in his throat that yet another member of his family has experienced her touch before he has.

Both Alicent and Otto turn to look, as Lorra and Helaena move to the open space of the room, the music rising in volume as they begin to twirl and skip around each other. Aemond watches, transfixed at the bright smile upon Lorra’s face and the way that her hair fans out around her as she moves. Helaena’s eyes are lit up in a way he rarely sees, and he marvels that with such a simple gesture this stranger from the North has managed to make his sister seem happier than she has in a long time.

He reluctantly looks away as he notices Aegon stand, moving clumsily from his own seat and around the table, slumping heavily in the chair that Lorra had previously occupied.

“She is pretty, brother,” Aegon slurs with a slight smirk. “Do you know what to do with her?”

Aemond wrinkles his nose in disgust, his older sibling reeks of wine, the stench pungent in his nostrils. “Your breath could light a brazier.”

Aegon chuckles, plucking a fig from Lorra’s plate and biting into it. “I shall take that as a no,” he mumbles around a mouthful of fruit, “considering it is our sister she dances with, and not you.”

He scoffs, rolling his eye. “I have nothing to prove to her.”

“Then I don’t suppose you will mind if I dance with her too?” He raises his eyebrows, popping the rest of the fig in his mouth.

Annoyance prickles at Aemond’s skin and he narrows his eye as he looks at the mocking expression of his brother.

“That’s what I thought,” he grins, moving in his seat to face where Lorra and Helaena currently dance. 

“Lorra!” Aegon calls out loudly across the table. “Your betrothed wishes to dance with you also.”

If proper decorum did not dictate otherwise, Aemond would throw himself out of his seat and throttle the life out of Aegon. Instead he stares at him, wide eyed with a mixture of horror and anger.

Lorra halts her movements, looking over her shoulder towards Aemond, before approaching where he sits. She is breathless, pale cheeks flushed, as she extends a hand to him. 

He cannot possibly deny her now. Fucking Aegon.

He has never seen anyone appear so carefree, a marked difference to his unwavering stoicism, and he stares at her unblinking for a few moments before slowly reaching out to take her hand.

Her touch sends a ripple of warmth through his body from head to toe, and as he rises from his seat he worries he will stumble, utterly disarmed by the softness of her palm against his. 

Helaena goes back to the table as Lorra and Aemond make their way to the space in which she had previously been dancing with her.

He swallows thickly, desperately trying to recall the steps he had learned as a child, feeling yet another surge of heat travel through him as Lorra raises her hand, placing her palm flat against his. Her hands are so much smaller and more delicate than his, he is certain that if he made a fist then his would cover hers entirely.

Lorra never once breaks eye contact, the ghost of a smile upon her lips as her and Aemond circle each other. He finds it is much like sparring, remembering where to place his feet, anticipating the movements of his opponent, though he does not possess the natural grace that she appears to have as she moves.

“You dance well,” Lorra murmurs, as they step in close to each other, “though you are stiff.”

“Dancing is not something I enjoy,” Aemond replies simply, eye raking over the way her hair tousles around her bare shoulders.

“Well, I am flattered you made an exception for me,” she says with a wry smile. “I look forward to finding out what you do enjoy.”

His lips part slightly, unsure of what to say. He cannot understand her interest in him. He had expected a meek, little thing, happy to endure the formalities of a political union, and instead he has been presented with an ethereal beauty intent on taunting him to the brink of madness.

Aemond feels as though he is in a daze for the rest of the meal, picking silently at his food, grateful for the fact that his family carry on the conversation so that he is not forced to participate. However, he finds his gaze is constantly drawn to Lorra, she fascinates and terrifies him in equal measure.

He breathes a sigh of relief when the evening finally draws to a close and he can retire to his bedchamber. Though, to his dismay, having left her physical presence behind, Aemond finds that Lorra is not so easily shifted from his thoughts. Her hair, her smile, the way she moves, all occupy his mind with alarming frequency. His fingers flex restlessly each time he recalls the feeling of her hand against his.

It is because she is different, he reasons, I just need to get used to her and then she will not haunt my thoughts quite so often.

The next day, Aemond shuts himself away in the library. He is certain that the fuss from yesterday was simply because it was Lorra’s first day within the Keep. Now they will be free to pursue their own interests outside of each other, and any time spent together will be arranged by either his mother or grandsire, with a chaperone present.

He takes down a large book on the history of Old Valyria from one of the shelves. Aemond has read it countless times before, and he seeks comfort within its familiar pages as he seats himself at a reading table. The words he knows by heart provide welcome refuge against the tug of uncertainty he has been thrust against.

The door creaking open startles him, the library is a space in which he is rarely bothered. No one but him and the Keep’s maesters ever set foot in here.

His heart lurches as he sees Lorra enter silently. A satin gown that matches the blue of the cloak she arrived in the previous day serves to illuminate her irises, making them shine in the low lighting of the dimly lit space. Her ebony hair is braided once more, falling across one shoulder.

Aemond wets his lips, gripping the pages of his book tightly. “Are you lost?”

She chuckles quietly, taking in his shocked expression. “Exactly where I mean to be. I was told I would find you here.”

He leans against the back of his chair, regarding her with silent suspicion as she moves towards him, taking the seat next to his.

“Fret not,” she tells him with an amused smile, “Ser Cole is outside the door, if you are worried I mean for you to have me against the bookcases.”

His eye widens at this, heat licking up his spine in a way that makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

How can she be so coarse and not feel the slightest shame for it?

“So, what are you reading?”

He clears his throat, his focus returning to the book. “A history of Old Valyria, nothing that you would find interesting.”

“On the contrary, it is my duty to learn of the ancestral history of my betrothed, it is what we will teach our children. Do you not wish to learn the history of House Stark?”

“I know the history of House Stark.”

“Then we could share our learnings.”

“There is no need.”

“Why not?”

“We did not choose this.”

Lorra sighs. “We did not, and yet I see no reason why we cannot make the best of it. I want to know my husband.”

Aemond looks up at her, his expression hardening. “I study history and philosophy, I train with the sword, I ride the largest dragon in the world. There is nothing else to know.”

She lowers her gaze, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap momentarily, before turning her attention back to him. “And they say Northerners have an icy demeanour…I intend to thaw you out eventually.”

She rises from her seat, sweeping silently out of the library, and leaving Aemond alone to stare after her. Suddenly, his historical tome is of little interest to him.

Aemond does not see her again until suppertime, though she crosses his mind often, and he is resentful of the twinge of disappointment that burrows its way into his chest at the dinner table when she opts to converse with his mother and sister instead of him.

It does not escape his notice, however, that all of the dishes she passes to him throughout the meal are his favourites; sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar and covered with powdered ginger, and rabbit stuffed with minced loin of veal. She had clearly been watching what he had eaten the previous evening.

He feels slightly embarrassed to realise he has no idea what she enjoys eating, keeping silent as he watches her carefully. She seems to enjoy the plums stewed in rosewater, and she helps herself to a slice of game pie, his lips quirking in mild amusement as he sees her pick away the pastry, leaving it to one side as she eats the filling. It unnerves him a little, he has never wished to know the intricacies of anyone before, and yet here he sits attempting to commit to memory the culinary likes and dislikes of a woman he barely knows.

She makes no further attempts to speak to him that day, and he retires for the evening believing that she finally shares his view that they need not interfere in each other’s affairs.

That is until the following morning. His boots crunch against the gravel of the training yard as he spins his sword in his hand, slowly circling to keep Ser Criston Cole in his line of sight as the Queen’s sworn protector wields his morningstar. He is about to surge forward, when he spots Lorra making her way towards the spread of weapons that are laid out on the bench.

She is dressed in form fitting grey trousers with a matching jerkin, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She is picking up each of the smaller blades, inspecting them in turn as he approaches, nostrils flared in annoyance and patience thin.

“What are you doing?” He asks coldly, frowning down at her as she rights herself, looking up at him impassively.

“Choosing a blade,” she says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I have not been able to spar since I left Winterfell.”

Aemond scoffs at this. “But you are a woman.”

His mother and sister never set foot in the training yard. He has never seen a woman spar before, the very idea seems ridiculous to him. In his opinion, the last of the female warriors died with Visenya Targaryen.

“An astute observation,” Lorra smirks, cocking her head. “My father ensured I was trained to fight as well as he and my brother, Cregan, can. Women of the North know how to defend themselves.”

“Cole, are you going to allow this?” Aemond demands, turning as the knight walks over to them both.

“You say you have trained before, My Lady?” Criston enquires.

Lorra nods. “I can fight with a sword and shield. I also hunt, fish and ride on horseback. My father has given me every advantage afforded to my brother.”

“Well then, My Prince, I suppose there is your answer,” Criston says with a slight shrug, stepping away.

“Perhaps my betrothed will train with me?” Lorra asks, picking up a sword and testing the weight of it.

“Absolutely not,” he replies coldly. “There is no honour in fighting a woman.”

“Are you craven?” She asks with a mock pout. “Afraid you will lose?”

Aemond’s brow furrows, eye narrowing as he exhales heavily through his nose in irritation. “Fine.”

He stomps to the centre of the training yard, turning as Lorra takes up a fighting stance, feet planted shoulder width and blade raised in a defensive position.

She easily dodges him, sidestepping him as he strikes forward with his own sword and rounds on him as she delivers a blow of her own, a dull thud against his bicep that makes him wince in pain and growl in frustration.

“Not bad for a woman after all, eh?” She taunts, jutting out her chin defiantly.

Aemond snarls, his sword clashing against her own as he pushes her backwards. “Why must you torment me so?” He hisses. “Is this a game to you?”

“I simply wish to spend time with my future husband,” she breathes heavily, “what is so terribly wrong with that?”

She winces, yelping in pain as he delivers a particularly hard whack to her outer thigh, and she falls backwards. He holds the point of his sword to her throat, as she stares up at him, wide eyed and panting.

“You are to be my wife,” he hisses, “not my friend, not my companion, learn the fucking difference.”

The metallic sound of armour rings out across the courtyard as Criston rushes over, pushing Aemond back by his shoulder, away from Lorra. She scrambles to her feet, gasping for breath, dropping her sword and hurrying away.

Aemond watches after her, the adrenaline of his anger slowly subsiding as guilt blooms heavily within him.

“You took that too far, My Prince,” Criston says sternly, his grip on Aemond’s shoulder still firm.

“She angered me,” he mutters quietly, still staring after Lorra, though she has long since disappeared from view.

“Every woman is created in the image of the Mother,” the knight tells him, “we must treat them as such.”

Aemond sneers, shrugging off Criston and stalking back towards the Keep.

Having returned to his chambers to bathe and change his clothing, Aemond is unsurprised when later that afternoon he is summoned to his grandsire’s study. He is anticipating a scolding for what had happened in the training yard earlier.

Otto sighs wearily as Aemond enters the study, leaning back in his chair and regarding his grandson through hooded eyes.

“What happened earlier was an appalling display, stupid boy. You will apologise.”

“I suppose she has told you everything?” Aemond responds wearily.

“No, actually,” he says, folding his hands in front of him upon the desk. “Your mother did, and she heard it from Ser Cole.”

Aemond is surprised by this, his eyebrows raising slightly as he realises Lorra had not rushed to tell of his misdeeds.

“I appreciate that you did not ask for this, Aemond, but it is important that we build an alliance with House Stark, for the good of Aegon’s succession. Apologise to Lorra. You must learn to get along with the girl, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or Lord Baratheon has four eligible daughters, and we can begin the process all over again.”

Aemond balks at this, the prospect of having to welcome someone new into his life and endure the formalities of courtship all over again causes dread to gnaw at his stomach. But also, in the very recesses of his mind there is a part of him that knows he does not want anyone that is not Lorra Stark.

As he leaves Otto’s study, he is certain he hears the rustle of clothing and hurried footsteps, yet when he peers further down the corridor, he sees no one.

At dinner that evening, Lorra is subdued, not speaking to anyone at the table. Aemond stares at her regretfully, saddened by the loss of the simple gesture of her passing him dishes of the food she knows he enjoys, and is struck by an idea of his own.

He reaches for a slice of game pie, sliding it onto his plate, and with a knife he carefully cuts the pastry from the top and the bottom, before pushing the filling onto a side plate. He passes it to Lorra and she looks up at him, wide eyed, taking it from him hesitantly.

“You noticed.”

“I may have lost an eye, but the one that remains does not miss much. However, I allowed my pride to blind me in the training yard earlier. I hope you will forgive me.”

*I shall think about it,” she says with a grin.

He feels the faintest tug of his own smile pulling at his lips in return, his heart feeling lighter than it has all day.

Over the next two months, Lorra and Aemond spend more time together. Afternoons are whiled away in the library, they either read silently side by side - Aemond preferring historical accounts and philosophical studies, while she opts for tales from the Age of Heroes - or they share stories of their lineages. Lorra recounts her own knowledge of direwolves and wildlings beyond the Wall, while Aemond tells her all about Aegon the Conqueror and how the first dragons came to be.

In the training yard, Aemond continues to spar with Criston, and Lorra is appointed a squire to train with. Though the two never cross blades again, Aemond often finds his gaze drawn to her, impressed by the fluidity of her movements and the ferocity with which she fights.

Lorra is a welcome addition to the Red Keep, she converses easily with all of the family at mealtimes, and they all seem fond of her. On the rare occasions that Viserys can be roused from his sick bed to the table, she is even able to draw a laugh from him, despite his lack of lucidity.

As Aemond and Lorra grow closer, his inner conflict grows with it. He has never had a friend before, let alone anyone he feels affection for. He has grown accustomed to a life of solitude, simply slotting another person into his daily routine proves difficult enough, when it is accompanied by a longing to reach out to her and hold her hand, or stroke his fingers through the lustrousness of her hair, he does not know what to with this. So he resists, ignoring the restlessness of his hands and the quickening of his pulse each time she is near.

He has never craved physical or sexual intimacy before, both times he had endured it he had found no joy in it, so he cannot understand why Lorra evokes such desires within him.

Over time, he finds that simply avoiding her alleviates his burden, and so his flights on Vhagar become ever more frequent. Up in the skies is the only place that she cannot follow, and when he is on dragonback he is given a momentary respite from the war that rages inside of him, a clash between the comfort of seclusion, and the desire for her to be close to him.

Late afternoon bleeds into early evening, the sky a tapestry of dusky orange and pink as Aemond lands Vhagar on the outer edge of the Godswood. He dismounts, stunned to see that Lorra is patiently waiting for him, her cerulean cloak with white fur trim clutched tightly around her as she stands by a large elm tree.

“So, this is the mighty Vhagar,” she says softly, no trace of fear in her tone as she marvels at the great beast that rumbles cantankerously, mere feet away, as Aemond approaches her.

“You should not be here,” Aemond tells her, “dragons are not playthings for those unused to them.”

“But you have yet to introduce me, and she clearly means a lot to you. I would like to meet her.”

He hesitates. His dragon is the only remaining barrier he has between himself and Lorra, if he breaks that down then there is no more escaping her, and he will be forced to deal with whatever the consequences of that may be. 

“No.”

“Why do you avoid me?”

“I do not.”

“You do. You were not in the library this morning, you missed training yesterday. More often than not you go where I cannot follow. I do not understand why.”

Aemond sighs, averting his gaze. “I–I cannot give you what you want.”

Lorra’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean? We have been getting along well.”

He shakes his head. “I am not built for companionship. I would only disappoint you. I can be your husband in name, but I cannot be your lover.”

“Do you not even wish to try?” She asks pleadingly.

More than I have ever wanted anything.

He says nothing, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Every fibre of his being burns with the urge to pull her close and press his lips to hers, but uncertainty holds him back.

“Let me visit you in your chambers tonight, let us see if you really cannot play the part of a husband in anything more than name. If that turns out to be the case then I promise we shall never speak of it again. Do you agree?”

Aemond draws in a shuddering breath, icy tendrils of fear wrap themselves around his heart, while excitement flutters urgently in his lower abdomen. “Yes,” he utters simply.

Lorra nods, turning and walking back towards the Red Keep, leaving him alone in the Godswood.

Aemond anxiously awaits the knock at his door that evening, and even though he expects it, he still feels his heart skip a beat when he hears the soft tap of her knuckles against the wood.

His mouth runs dry at the sight of her, she is wrapped in a quilted robe, which she sheds upon crossing the threshold leaving her in just a thin cotton nightgown.

Once more, Aemond is stunned by how forthright Lorra is as she perches on the edge of his bed. He hovers nervously in the middle of the room, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

“I am no longer a maiden,” she tells him honestly, “I feel that is something you deserve to know ahead of our nuptials, and I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”

Aemond swallows thickly, opening his mouth before quickly closing it again when he realises he does not know what to say.

“I was on a hunt with my father and my brother. I allowed a squire to sully my virtue, believing it to be true love,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “As it turns out he was just eager to get beneath the skirts of a nobleman’s daughter.”

Anger prickles beneath Aemond’s skin, the very thought of someone using her in such a manner is almost more than he can stand. He will wring that pathetic excuse of a man’s neck if he ever gets his hands upon him.

“I am sorry that happened to you,” he utters, “you did not deserve that.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “It matters not. So, tell me, what of your experience?”

Aemond sucks in a breath, moving slowly to sit beside her on the mattress, keeping a respectable distance, as he contemplates what and how to tell her.

“It was my thirteenth name day, and Aegon decided that the appropriate gift would be to take me to a brothel.”

Lorra nods, keeping quiet and allowing for him to continue.

“It was not an enjoyable experience for me. Truthfully, I was disgusted by it, and for a long time I never entertained the notion of being intimate with anyone again.”

“Until when?”

“Until I was told I was to be betrothed to you.”

“So what did you do?”

“I did not want to be inexperienced for my wife, I wanted to see if I could derive enjoyment from coupling with a woman after all, so as not to embarrass you or myself. I took a maidservant.”

“And how did you find that?”

“It was…better than my experience in the brothel, but beyond the physical sensations, I felt nothing. It was humiliating to have to see her after that. I made sure she drank moon tea and then had my mother move her to kitchen duties, so I would not have to see her again.”

Lorra nods in understanding. “So, we have both been unlucky. Have you considered that perhaps it is not the act itself that is unenjoyable, more so the person you are doing it with?”

“What do you mean?”

“If there is no emotional connection between you and the person you are intimate with then there is little joy to be found in the act. You are merely two bodies rubbing against each other.”

“I have never experienced an emotional connection with anyone before, so I would not know.”

“Not even with me?”

Yes, with you. Only with you.

The words stick in Aemond’s throat, unable to express how he feels. He cannot allow himself such vulnerability.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, shifting closer.

Deciding to act, before he can change his mind, Aemond leans in, pressing his lips to hers. Lorra leads the movements, clearly the more experienced of the two - he has never kissed anyone before. Her lips are soft against his, yet press with a firmness that coaxes him to mimic her gestures.

He buries his hands in her hair, finally feeling its silkiness between his fingers as he pulls her closer. The stickiness of their saliva as they deepen the kiss, her tongue licking against his, makes his cock ache painfully hard in his breeches.

Lorra moves to straddle his lap, and Aemond’s hands wander from her hair, down the smoothness of her skin, his grip gentle yet filled with desperate want.

It is as if something finally clicks into place for him as she presses herself against him, the delicate scent of rosemary and lavender that clings to her flesh makes him feel lightheaded. This is what Aegon had been talking about. He wants nothing more than to throw her down upon the bed, and tear her nightdress from her.

Yet as she pulls back, breathless, glassy eyed and glossy lipped, he feels the same awe he had felt the first time he had looked into the fiery jaws of Vhagar. Only this time, it is not the white hot intensity of the Seven Hells that he sees reflected back, it is the vision of the Maiden herself. He has never seen a sight more beautiful.

His reverence of her quickly causes him to freeze, he is unworthy, does not know what to do with someone he feels so strongly for, and it morphs into terror. This time, instead of claiming his prize he pulls away from it.

“I–I cannot. I am sorry,” he whispers, pushing her gently from him and moving to stand.

She sighs softly, her head bowed dejectedly as she brushes past him to gather up her robe and wrap it back around herself.

“Well, I suppose that is that then,” she says. Her voice sounds so sad, so weak, that it causes a lump to form in Aemond’s throat. He detests that he has made her feel this way.

“As agreed in the Godswood, we shall speak of this no further,” she continues, fiddling with the ties around her waist.

“So our marriage will be a mere formality?” Aemond asks in a hushed tone.

Lorra shakes her head sadly, finally looking up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. “There will be no marriage at all. 

It feels as though Aemond’s heart drops into his stomach as he stares at her, the lump in his throat seeming as though it means to suffocate him. “Why?” Is all he is able to rasp out.

“I have never wanted a marriage that is for mere political alliance. I want someone who loves me, who desires me. That is why I asked my mother and father to delay their arrival, so I could see for myself if you were someone I could fall in love with.”

Aemond’s eyebrows pinch together, ripples of pain reverberating in his chest, and yet he stays silent, allowing her to say her piece.

“The sad fact is that in these last few months I have fallen in love with you, but I do not think you will ever love me back. I am sorry, Aemond, but I cannot marry you. Tomorrow I shall return to Winterfell, and perhaps you will have better luck with one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters.”

Those final few words strike Aemond like a hammer blow. She had heard.

He watches sorrowfully as she turns and leaves his chambers. He is desperate to call out after her.

Please do not go.

Do not leave me.

I do not want a Baratheon girl.

I want you.

Instead he says nothing, frozen to the spot and cripplied by grief as one of the only things he has ever truly wanted walks out of his life, knowing he only has himself to blame.

Aemond stays shut away in his chambers when Lorra departs the next morning, unable to bear the sight of her leaving the Red Keep and him forever. He keeps the curtains closed, sitting in darkness, not having slept, thinking of all the things he should and could have said and done differently. But it is too late now, and Lorra is better off without him.

It is nearing early afternoon when Alicent knocks softly at the door, allowing herself in without awaiting an answer. Her big, brown eyes are filled with sadness as she stares down at Aemond as he sits there. It reminds him of how she used to look at him as he would sit by the fireplace as a child, trying to hatch his egg.

She rounds his chair, standing behind him and places her hands tenderly upon his shoulders. Aemond reaches up a hand, gently grasping her fingers with his own.

“Oh, my dearest love, I am so sorry,” she whispers sadly.

They remain in silence for a few moments, before Aemond finally speaks. “Will you ask Grandsire to wait before sending a raven to Lord Baratheon? I–I am not ready. Not yet.”

Alicent’s fingers squeeze gently around his own in a comforting gesture. “Of course. I will not allow him to rush you.”

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief, though he feels no amount of time in the world will make him feel ready.

Over the next week, Aemond attempts to return to life as normal, though it feels empty and colourless without Lorra. 

As he reads in the library, the empty space beside him seems almost ominous with its lack of her presence. He takes to reading tales from the Age of Heroes as a means to feel that she is still there.

In the training yard, his eye wanders every so often to the space where she used to spar, a wave of melancholy washing over him each time he looks to find that she is no longer there. He wonders who she will train with once she is back in Winterfell.

One night at dinner, he catches himself absentmindedly cutting the crust from his pie, a sigh of frustration leaving him as he agitatedly pushes the plate away.

He hates this. Aemond is comfortable in solitude, he always has been, yet now it feels too vast, too lonely. The empty space is haunted by the memory of Lorra, creating an ache and a longing within him that he has never experienced before.

The hour grows late as Alicent, Otto and Helaena depart the dining hall. Aemond is about to rise to return to his own quarters when Aegon holds up a hand, halting him.

“Stay a while,” he says, moving into the chair next to Aemond’s. “There is still wine in this jug, let us see it off.”

“I think you are sufficiently in your cups enough for us both, brother,” Aemond says with a sigh.

“Anything to help cope with how you have been skulking around the Keep this past week,” Aegon replies, splashing the table with red wine as he fills both their cups messily.

“I have not been skulking,” Aemond says petulantly, taking a sip of his wine.

“You have,” Aegon tells him, gulping from his own cup. “If you are this saddened by Lorra’s departure then why did you allow her to leave?”

Aemond sighs. “Because…because I cannot give her what she desires in a husband. My only examples of what marriage really looks like is what I have seen of mother and father, and you and Helaena.”

“That is exactly why you should strive to give her what she desires. Those are poor examples to set the basis of a marriage upon.”

“And how would you know?”

“Do you know what I know? I know that you have made yourself at home in a lifetime of misery and isolation, so much so that the very idea of happiness frightens you.” Aegon titters as he takes in Aemond’s annoyed expression. “Can you believe it? Aemond Targaryen, the boy who claimed the world’s largest dragon at the age of ten is afraid of happiness.”

“I am not afraid,” Aemond glowers.

“Then what is it? Because it seems ironic to me that you have spent your entire life coveting what I have and resenting me for not wanting it, and then when you find yourself in a position that I so desperately want for myself you do not want it either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Love, Aemond. The love of a good woman. I had that once, and due to my own cowardice it slipped away from me.”

“You were in love?”

Aegon nods, drinking deeply again. “There was a reason I used to frequent that one particular brothel. There was a woman there that I loved, and she loved me.”

“She loved the golden dragon you paid her each time she let you rut atop her like an animal.”

“No, it was not that,” Aegon shakes his head. “I wanted to marry her, she was with child. But when mother and grandsire found out they had her taken away from King’s Landing. I never found out what became of her, or the child she was carrying.”

“I had no idea.”

Aegon scoffs. “You would not. Mother did a thorough job of ensuring no one ever found out. But my point is, I was a craven, I should have boarded a ship to Essos the moment I became aware of her condition. I would be rid of a life I hate and free to be with the woman I love. Do not let your own cowardice deprive you of happiness. Goodness knows you have enough reasons to be a miserable twat as it is.”

Aegon claps Aemond on the shoulder as he rises from his seat, taking both his cup and the jug with him as he staggers away from the dining hall.

Aemond sits at the table a while longer in silence, contemplating his brother’s words. He is shocked at what Aegon has divulged, yet there are rare pearls of wisdom to be found in what he has said. He is right, Aemond does want Lorra, and it is time he casts aside his pride and apprehension to ensure she knows this.

He goes back to his quarters that night, with a plan in mind. Sitting at his writing desk, Aemond places quill to parchment and begins to write.

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[jdeclerc]

welcome home, general

pairing: cassian x reader

summary: the night court's general returns home, craving the touch of his mate - he is met with the most thorough of welcomes.

author's note: cassian is it for me. i'm also sorry this is so long? no idea how that happened. i'll try my best to write something a bit shorter...no promises though ;)

warnings: smut (with a bit more plot than first anticipated)

word count: 3,815

Cassian lands on the balcony of the House of Wind and feels like he can breathe for the first time in weeks.

His week-long mission in the Illyrian Steppes had quickly become two…three…four weeks away from his home, his family, his mate. It is the thought of his mate that has the tension in his shoulders loosening.

You and he had decided long ago to close-off the bond when one of you was working for an extended period. He feels the embers of it flicker to life for the first time and does his best to tamper it. You aren’t expecting him home until tomorrow morning, he had worked hard to maintain the surprise of his early arrival.

Cassian can’t help but fix his gaze on the window above him. He knows you lay behind it. An image of you sitting in bed, a book in your hand, and a cup of tea on the bedside table enters his mind.  He can’t count how many times you sacrificed sleep to finish ‘just one more chapter.’ The corners of his mouth turn up at the thought.

He admires your ability to fall into the worlds of your books. Some of his favourite moments are you excitedly telling him about your latest read, and he is raptured by your every word, even when he has no grasp on what in the cauldron you are speaking about.

His thoughts turn darker as his memories turn to his favourite method of getting you to finally take a break from reading. He would take the book from your hands, put your marker in so you don’t lose your page, and place it on his bedside table. Cassian would then lean you back into the pillows and position himself between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. In those moments it becomes his singular goal to worship every part of you, showing you that even after centuries, his need for you has never diminished.

Cauldron help him the first time you had wanted to recreate a scene from one of your books. He was a male undone, never having found release quite like that.

“She’s missed you brother, as have we.”

Cassian is shaken from his thoughts at the sound of Rhys’ voice, turning to find him and Azriel approaching from the house. He opens his arms to both and pulls them into himself. Another wave of relief washes over him as he embraces his brothers, it is yet another sign of him being home.

They step back from one another but remain close. Cassian knows, like he has felt, that his brothers need him near to know he’s truly home safely.

“When did she get here?”

“Two days after you left. She wanted to wait but knew you would have words for her if she did.”

Cassian nodded at Azriel’s words and glanced back up at the window.

The two of you often frequented the House of Wind but had built your own home on the outskirts of the city about a century after being mated. Your family rarely visited, the place becoming a sanctuary for yourself and Cassian.

But Cassian knew, because he experienced the same, that you had difficulty sleeping there without him. Your home encompassed the heart and soul of your mateship and felt empty when the other wasn’t there for an extended period. You both had taken to staying with Azriel and Gwyn at the House of Wind, impatiently awaiting your mate’s return.

On his flight home Cassian had every intention of taking you home and showing you just how much he missed you. But he knows that the moment he opens the bond and lays eyes on you that his plan will vanish in an instant. He craves your scent and the feeling of your skin beneath his hands more than he cares to admit, even to himself.

“Y/N retired to your room early, she cleared her schedule tomorrow and wants to finish training before she thinks you’re getting home. This one was hard for her Cas, as I’m sure it’s been on you as well.” Azriel squeezes Cassian’s shoulder.

“And in effort to do themselves a favour, Gwyn and Az are staying at the River House tonight. You both can join us tomorrow, if you’re not too exhausted, that is.” Rhys gives Cassian a sly grin and a knowing look. “The entire family is spending the day together, even Nesta and Eris are coming to celebrate your safe return.”

“We’ll be there…maybe a bit late but we’ll be there.”

Rhys can’t help but let out a laugh at Cassian’s words.

“Good.” Rhys motions to Azriel and they step past Cassian toward the edge of the balcony. “Now go, you’ve got a mate that needs tending to.”

“Try not to be too much of a disappointment, will you?” Azriel shoots Cassian a shit-eating grin as he says the words.

“You can both go kindly fuck yourselves.”

Cassian can hear his brothers’ responding laughter as they shoot into the sky. He can tell neither of them let up on their speed as they descend toward the city, weaving in and out from each other. They’re racing one another. Despite being centuries old, the brothers’ competitiveness is as childish as ever. Cassian can’t predict which of them will win but knows he’ll hear every detail the following day.

He watches them for a few moments longer, turning toward and entering the house only when he loses sight of them.

Cassian takes the stairs two at a time, as silently as his massive form can manage. It’s only as he approaches the door of your shared room that he registers any sound in the house at all. He carefully pushes the door open, conscious of the damaged hinge neither of you had fixed. The two of you had been interrupted by various members of your family one too many times not to appreciate the warning squeal the hinge lets out as the door opens.

It's as he steps into the room that his suspicion is confirmed; the noise he hears is coming from the adjoining bathing chamber.

Cassian isn’t one to be caught off guard but as he steps into the doorway of the bathing chamber, the first sight of his mate has him grinding to a halt.

You haven’t noticed him, and Cassian allows himself a moment to drink in the sight of you before he even thinks of alerting you to his presence.

You’re standing directly under the stream of water. He can tell by the way your eyes are closed that you’re lost in thought, having always found solace in the noise of the water flooding your senses.

His eyes follow the water as it cascades down your bare form. He watches it hit every dip and dive, tracing the body he knows as well as his own.

It’s the scent of your arousal that knocks him out of his daze. Whatever is going on in your glorious head has your hands moving over yourself. He watches as you run your hands down the front your body, descending painfully slowly.

Cassian can see more than hear his name fall from your lips as you reach the apex of your thighs. Your voice filled with such need that it comes out as more of a breath than a fully formed word. He anticipates the moves you make as you touch yourself, knowing the exact motions and pace you’ll use. It was one of the first things he had you show him, your satisfaction always being placed above his own.

He stops breathing as he watches you slip a single finger into yourself, your mouth falling open slightly at the action.

It’s at that moment that he opens his end of the bond. He can see the exact moment his need meets your own. You gasp as the wave of emotion hits you. Your eyes slowly open and meet his own, a range of emotions cross your face in an instant: relief, longing, desire. Your hand halting its movements at your seeing him.

“Don’t stop.” Both a command and a plea wrapped into one. You resume your movements without hesitation.

Cassian’s eyes don’t stray from your form as he begins unclasping his siphons, one hitting the floor after another. You gaze, however, tracks every movement of his hands. He’s known you long enough to know you don’t do so purely out of desire. No, you’re waiting for any sign of injury. Any sign that his movements are out of the ordinary or encumbered in even the smallest way.

As he removes the top half of his leathers, he understands why you stop this time. He silently vows to tell you the stories of his bruises later, when the need to be with you isn’t demanding to be met. The look in your eyes has him undoing the laces of his pants with precision. Worry has replaced all desire that was there only a moment ago.

When he is as bare as the Mother made him, Cassian starts moving. He doesn’t wait for the shower door to close behind him before he’s reaching for you. His hands slide around your waist as yours run over his abdomen before moving to his chest. He knows the question you need answered as you look up at him.

“They’re nothing serious, I swear to you.” His voice is low. “I’m here…I’m home…I’m safe.”

He can feel the tension leave your body at his words, at the use of the mantra you both use when returning to each other. The words quelling any worry no matter what marks mar either of you.

You give him a small nod and it’s as though he can feel the air thicken with the return of your arousal.

Cassian tightens his arms around you and moves you several steps until your back meets the wall. Your hands come to rest on either side of his neck as he gazes down at you.

He takes a moment to admire his mate. The warmth of your skin under his hands and your scent filling the air grounding him like nothing else can.

It’s the brush of your chest against his as you pull him closer that snaps his resolve. He is on you in an instant.

Cassian pulls you impossibly close as his lips meet yours. The kiss burning with four weeks of built-up need and desire. Your hands encircle his shoulders as he slides one of his own up your back and stops at the base of your neck. He applies just enough pressure to have your head tilting further back, allowing him better access to devour you.

His lips move along your jaw, coming to stop at the spot below your ear that he knows does you in. Your responding whimper is all he needs to continue his exploration. He forges a path down your neck and across to the center of your chest. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his thumbs brushing across the bottom of your breasts. Cassian takes a moment to drink in the sight of you before descending on you once more.

He sucks a mark into the top of your left breast first before doing the same to your right. His desire to mark you as his outweighing the reality that they will be gone by morning, nothing but a memory.

 Cassian takes your right nipple between his lips, drawing it in into his mouth until he can feel it tighten against his tongue. His left hand circling the other as he does. His teeth catch your nipple as he releases it, and he flicks his tongue across the hard surface before moving to repeat his actions on your left side.

Your breathless by the time his mouth leaves you and his eyes remain locked on yours as he sinks to his knees before you. His motions are reverent as he rests his forehead on your lower stomach and his hands come to rest at the backs of your thighs.

Cassian closes his eyes and breathes you in. He runs his hand across the top of your left thigh until he can take hold of its underside. He leans back and his eyes don’t leave your centre as he lifts your thigh so he can place it over his shoulder. He runs his thumb across your folds and groans at what he feels. Your desire evident in the tremor that runs through you at the second pass of his thumb.

Cassian knows you could take him then and there, but he is too selfish a male in that moment to deny himself of what he had dreamed about countless times while away.

He turns his head and begins a trail along your inner thigh of kisses so feather-light that they leave goosebumps in their wake.  He feels one of your hands find purchase in his hair as his mouth closes over your clit.

He devours you like a male starved. Moving his tongue in a way that he knows will have your legs shaking before long. Cassian lets out a hum of satisfaction as two of his fingers slide easily into you. He works them through you and curls them in just the right way, he is nothing but an expert at his chosen craft.

“Cas…”

Cassian can tell by your tone that you’re close. He can feel it in the way you move, chasing your release against him.

It’s the sounds you make and how you clench around his fingers as your orgasm tears through you that has Cassian understanding why the priestesses are so devout in their worship. He would spend a lifetime on his knees if this is what it entailed. He would worship before you for eternity, even if it meant only feeling what he just had even one more time.

He moves his mouth from you and slows the movement of his fingers as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. Only when he’s confident your legs will hold you does he lower the one over his shoulder and rise to stand.

He stands so close to you that your chest brushes his as it rises and falls in quick succession. You open your mouth to speak but he’s the first one to get words out.

“Turn around.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and look up at him through your lashes at his words and Cassian is so transfixed by the action that he barely registers the need to take a half step back to allow you room to follow his command. When you do, he snakes one of his arms around your waist and moves you forward, caging you in with his massive form. His other hand moves to the back of your thigh and raises it to rest on the bench built into the right side of the shower.

He can’t help a tremor of his own passing over him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it through your folds; having been hard since walking into the bathing chamber.

Cassian lines himself up and relishes in the gasp you let out as he pushes into you. It’s a feeling he’s never gotten used to, the rush of euphoria that passes over him every time never getting old.

Only when he’s fully seated in you does he still. His right hand lands over yours and dwarfs it where it rests on the shower wall. His left moves from its position at your waist, up your torso, stopping between your breasts, and he pulls you flush to his chest so you face is no longer resting on the shower wall.

Cassian lays his forehead on your shoulder and waits, giving you time. You’d told him in the past that your body needed a moment to adjust to his size, no matter how many times the two of you had done this.

He’s given you this time ever since. And despite your repeated reassurances of the contrary, he still finds himself feeling sick at the thought of causing you even the slightest discomfort.

Your hand squeezes the forearm he has around your front.

“You’re sure?”

“Cas, please…I need you to move.” Your voice is laced with the most beautiful desperation, nails digging into his forearm.

Cassian moves his hand down, your own maintaining its grip. His fingers find your clit and circle it purposefully, painfully slow.

“And if I don’t?” He continues his movements. “I could keep you here until you’re begging to cum around my cock, so full, never getting to feel it splitting you open over and over again.” Cassian knows his words are a complete lie, knows his desperation outweighs yours ten-fold.

“It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting…General.”

It’s your use of his title that has Cassian pulling out to the tip and pushing back into you so that you feel every ridge and vein as they move inside you. You both know the effect the title has on him.

Your head falls onto his shoulder, and he brings his mouth to your ear. His voice rough with warning.

“As you command, my lady.”

Cassian sets a burning pace, bottoming out inside you with every thrust. His hand taking a bruising hold of your waist to keep you in place.

It isn’t long before he knows your close to coming undone. Your arm comes to circle his neck as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hand moving to resume its movements on your clit.

You break the kiss as you cum, head falling to his shoulder once more, and you’re unable to hold in your moans. Cassian holds you with both arms to keep you standing, you body trembling as he continues with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Once you’ve come down from the high, he maintains his hold on you as he slowly pulls out, gently setting your leg on the shower floor, and turning you to face him.

Cassian brings your hands to rest around his shoulders. He crouches just enough to reach the backs of your thighs and lifts you into his arms, pressing your back into the shower wall. Your eyes close as you rest your head on the wall, the falling of the water the only sound passing through the space.

“Eyes on me.” Cassian brings a hand to the back your neck and tilts your head to press your forehead to his. You open your eyes, and he sees nothing but pure satisfaction staring back at him. “One more…give me one more. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod your head.

“Words…I need to hear you say the words.”

You give him a small smile and bring your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Make me see stars Cassian.”

He doesn’t hesitate to resume his earlier pace. The drag of your nails across his back, past where his wings meet his skin, has him angling you to reach even deeper inside you.

It’s the feeling of your skin against his as you cling to him that has Cassian approaching his release. He slides his hand between your bodies and brings his thumb to the most sensitive part of you, wanting your finish to precede his.

You hold him painfully close as you cum with a cry. Your sounds pushing Cassian straight over the edge into oblivion. He cums with a roar and holds you to the base of his cock as he fills you. He moves with shallow thrusts, carrying both of you through the end of your respective orgasms. He stills as the last of his leaves him.

Time lapses for several minutes, neither of you move until he feels you stop shaking. He brings his hand up to push back the hair sticking to your face. You do the same to the strands that have fallen from where his hair is tied at the back of his head. He holds your gaze, the both of you seeing each other free from the haze of desire for the first time.

“Hi.” You whisper the words, pushing love down the bond.

“Hi yourself.” He responds by sending a wave of his own down the bond, his voice matching the volume of yours. “You feeling okay?”

“More than.”

You both chuckle at your words.

“Fuck, I missed this…missed you. I love you.”

“I love you, Cas. I’m so fucking happy you’re home.”

“I’m happy to be home.” He loosens his grip on you and glances down to where your bodies are still joined. “You ready?”

“My legs might be a little shaky, help me stay on two feet?”

“Always.”

Cassian gives you a deep, slow kiss before he pulls out of you. Your brow pinches and you let out a small whimper at the loss of him inside you. He sets your legs down gently and your knees begin to buckle before he pulls you into him, keeping you stable. He presses his face to the side of your neck, breathing you in and taking a moment to fully realize that he’s home with his mate.

“Should we finish this shower before we use every drop of water from the Sidra?”

Cassian responds with only a bellowing laugh as he moves to grab your favourite wash. He washes you from head to toe. Taking special care when cleaning the mess between your thighs, your body still responding to every pass he makes.

You then do the same. Washing away the few bits of grime left from his mission, especially those on the delicate membranes of his wings. Cassian knows you don’t miss how he tenses when you brush over the bruises covering his top half, the adrenaline of your tryst having fully worn off. You throw him a look that speaks volumes to his owing you an explanation.

“Tomorrow…I promise.”

You accept his vow with a nod as he turns the water off. He catches you stifling a yawn as he turns back toward you. Without a word he picks you up once more, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Let’s get you to bed, my wonderful, beautiful mate.”

Cassian walks you both straight through the bathroom without stopping.

“Cassian, we are soaking wet.”

“Your point being?” He enters the bedroom and moves to his side of the bed.

“The sheets, Cas. They’re brand new.”

Without losing his grip on you he lowers himself to the bed and settles you directly on top of him. He missed feeling the weight of your body over his own, of having his mate with him as he slept.

It takes only moments for exhaustion to hit you. Cassian’s words are the last thing you hear before drifting off into the deepest of sleeps.

“Fuck the sheets.”

#cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #night court

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 42.1k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

We

We

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

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[gretagerwigsmuse]

rocketman: part i - it's just my job five days a week

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is on a three month special detachment in the pacific and the holidays have never felt lonelier for either of you. it's just three months, it'll be fine, right?

OR you and bradley write each other 159 emails

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, bradley needs to remember this is a government email server...(okay yes, i am perfectly aware that our esteemed lieutenant commander would probably get kicked out of the navy for some of these emails…that being said, i also don’t particularly care! we’re playing fast and loose with the time stamps too because i may be smart, but math has never been a strong suit of mine!) enjoy the companion playlist! rest of the series can be found here!

12/17 @ 6:19am

I miss you already and I haven’t even left the parking lot. I’m still in my car typing this after having stayed for probably far too long watching your C-40 take off (like people were staring at me I was there so long)(and, yes, I looked up the name of the plane). Pete asked me if I wanted to get breakfast with him, but I said no. Felt too lost. Plus, I need to get ready for work. We’re going to get dinner on Wednesday before I head up to Berkeley Thursday morning, though!

Hope you have a safe transport and settle onboard quickly. I left you something in your duffle bag (yes, it’s safe to open around other people…head out of the gutter, Bradshaw).

Love you and stay safe, x

12/18 @ 5:46pm 

Just dropped off the gifts at the Junior League for Caroline’s adopt a child thing. She was completely in her element (they gave her a clipboard and a bullhorn!), though she did say we went wayyy too over the top. But little Carter asked for all that stuff! We couldn’t just not get it all for him? She also appreciated your wrapping skills, very impressed with the bows and tight corners. I met a couple of her friends there, which was nice and they invited me to stay for drinks (the prosecco was flowing…), but I wanted to head home. 

I miss you so much already, it feels weird not going over to your place after work and making dinner and prepping lunch together - and it’s only been two days. I know you’re on a comms blackout for the next couple days, so I’m just gonna keep sending these so you’ll have a bunch to read all at once.

All my love, x

12/19 @ 11:48am

My brother and Lauren decided to come out here for Christmas after all! My dad was so excited when he called me, but I think Mary’s a little less enthused. Feels like shit knowing we were the backup option for them. Apparently, Lauren’s mom is sick and the whole house is in disarray (not hard in that family…) so my dad is paying for them to fly in from New York tomorrow. I think it’ll be nice, we’ll almost have a full set (baring you, of course, my darling rocketman), so the house won’t be as lonely. Do you think we’ll get to talk on Christmas or Christmas Eve? You should be getting a package soon (‘twas preemptively sent!) and are under strict orders not to open it until Christmas Eve, buddy!

Going to dinner with Pete tonight, I’ll let you know how it goes. Amelia’s coming with us, but I don’t know about Penny? I hope they like the gifts we got them. I’m going to stop by your place, do a once over, and make sure the tree is ready for Pete to take, etc. before I leave on Thursday.

Love you and talk soon! x

12/20 @ 7:03am

House looked good! In my seat on the plane. If my morals were shakier, I would 1000% have taken Max up on his offer to fly me up to Berkeley. But alas! Climate change is real and private jets account for 20x as many carbon emissions as commercial planes, so I am up at the ass-crack of dawn for this 7:15am flight. I’ll message you when I land, love you!

12/20 @ 9:04am

Just landed - easy flight. Now to find my dad in arrivals…

Love you, talk when you get the chance! x

12/23 @ 4:45am

Hey sweetheart! Back online and all settled in. I’m bunking with Payback and we actually have a pretty decent layout. He graciously offered to give me the bottom bunk, due to my ‘geriatric status.’ Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to sleep in the bunk room with the ensigns and rest of the crew. I forgot how noisy it is being on an aircraft carrier, which makes Payback’s snoring surprisingly pleasant. I’m glad he and Bob are with me. The rest of this squadron’s from Lemoore and Bob knows some of them. It’s interesting seeing him and Payback fly together, but they mesh really well.

Glad Mav is there to keep an eye on you. 

Okay, I had way too much fun picking out all those presents, so I really hope Carter loves them too. And please tell me you have a picture of Caroline yelling into the bullhorn? I can truly think of nothing scarier than Caroline Calloway ordering the young women of San Diego county around like Santa’s chief elf. And speaking of gifts, I loved my pictures. The one from the Christmas party is my favorite, did Fanboy take it? I saw him running around with his Pentax. When the hell did you have time to print it? I’ve got it hanging up in my bunk so I can see it every night. 

I still don’t understand why you don’t fly into Oakland instead of SFO? Like I get it, you’re not a Spirit or SW girl, but kid….it’s an hour and forty minute flight? Live a little. And I think it’ll be nice having your brother and Lauren around for Christmas. How many people do you think it’ll be? I always loved seeing Christmas Eves with large families in movies and stuff, all the chaos and whatnot? But it’s just gonna be you five Christmas Day? I’ve heard rumblings that I might be first in line for a Facetime on Christmas Eve, so save some time for me too, kid. I’ll let you know for sure in a couple days. 

Okay, think we’re all caught up now. Talk soon and love you so much,

Your Bradley

12/23 @ 9:08am

Bubs! I read your email four times since I woke up, I can’t stop smiling. I’m glad you’re all settled in - Payback’s snoring and ageism aside haha. How’s the food? Do you want earplugs? A sleep mask? Are earplugs allowed for sleeping? What if you need to get up right away and you can’t hear? I could send you a white noise machine? Or is there a fear of hacking with that? I should’ve done more research on this before you left. Tell me if you need anything, I’ll send it out express! Oh, I’m just so happy to hear from you. Keep me posted!

Lots of love, x

12/23 @ 8:53pm

You and me, hot date tomorrow night at 11:45pst - don’t be late. (And look cute.)

Your Bradley

12/23 @ 8:55pm

I’ll be there 😉 Love you, x

12/25 @ 9:56am

Bradley Bradshaw you absolute sneak! How on Earth did you pull a Christmas miracle off!?! Mary said she had no clue, so I’m extremely impressed you got my dad to keep that secret!? I was totally not expecting another present from you? The cooking lessons and apron were more than enough - to say nothing about moving in together!?! I love the bracelet so much, you have no idea. I started crying when I opened it! Mary took a video, which I’m sure she’ll send you. God, Bradley? You didn’t have to do that! It’s perfect, it’s like we’re locked together. I’m gonna wear it everyday. Please email me later if you get the chance! 

(Also, Lauren looked really jealous 😉 my brother was sweating)

Love you and Merry Christmas Rocketman! x

12/25 @ 11:38am

Ummm, not sure what you’re talking about, kid? That sounds like something Santa would do? Probably heard about how good you’ve been this year? x

12/25 @ 11:40am

Thank you, I love it so much and wish I could give you the biggest hug and kiss right now. I’ll have an extra slice of babka for you tonight, talk soon and Merry Christmas, Bradley! Love you x

12/27 @ 4:49am

I miss sleeping next to you. Whenever I can’t sleep, I think about the way you looked at me in the living room after our Christmas party. You looked so happy and I hate that I have to leave you for all our firsts. First Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day. And god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking gorgeous it makes me want to lose my mind sometimes. Always thinking about you, Bradley 

12/27 @ 8:38am

I miss sleeping next to you, too (especially since your body is like a furnace and you hold me close when I get cold). And I know you being away during the holidays is hard, but look at it this way - we’ll just have our firsts next year. Next year will be our first Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day together, not an ocean apart. We have all the time in the world, rocketman. Love you today and every day x

12/29 @ 6:02pm

There’s already so many things I’m dying to tell you and stories about the squadron we’re teaming up with, but the Navy will have my ass if I give away too many details so I’m just going to leave it at this: are we sure Max doesn’t have a twin on another continent? Take that as you will. What’re your plans for New Year’s? Your Bradley

12/30 @ 9:20am

Sorry for the delayed response! A minor issue with my brother and my dad that I won’t bore you with had the whole house in a tizzy. Thankfully, he and Lauren are gone even though my dad still won’t tell me what the issue was? Anyway! God, I wish I could hear more about Max’s twin? I am honestly kind of scared about knowing there’s a Max doppelgänger in the Navy (jokes!). For New Year’s, I’m going to this party with Mary and dad in the city, it’s at this fancy venue and I have a cute black dress! It’s very different for me and I wish you were here to see it! I’ll have to wear it again. Message me when it’s the New Year your time! Love you! x

01/01 @ 12:09am

Happy New Year, sweetheart! They had a little party for the officers - we even got cake and Bob snuck me and Payback seconds somehow. It’s always the quiet ones you gotta look out for. You absolutely need to send me pictures of you in that dress, I can’t wait to see it on you in person someday. Hope you have a great time with your dad and Mary, give them my best. Love you and again Happy New Year! 

Your Bradley

01/01 @ 12:01am

Happy New Year, Bradley!!! You got cake!! You broke some rules! I approve! Milk them for all the cake they’re worth! I’ll send some pics of the three of us and one just for you big boy 😉 Talk soon and love you so so much! x

01/01 @ 10:59am

Had a late start! Here are the pics from last night! Try and sneak some more cake xx

[mary_and_dad_being_annoying.jpg]

[me.jpg]

01/02 @ 6:12am

You know you labeled the pictures wrong…luckily no one was behind me…

01/02 @ 9:04am

Who? Me? I would NEVER! (Just trying to keep you on your toes.) Hope the flying is going well and you’re staying safe, B! Love you!

01/03 @ 8:00pm

Yeah, it’s going well. It’s so different flying on the open ocean after so long? Last time was in September when I went to Hong Kong. The desert is cool, don’t get me wrong, but seeing the clouds and the water together is unreal. The pink and purple clouds remind me of you (sorry, that was lame). You still gotta let me take you up, kid. I’ve heard Mav is trying to convince you, but you gotta let me be the one. Can’t trust just anyone with my girl. Love B

01/04 @ 10:13am

Bradley…he’s practically your father, I’m pretty sure you can trust him to take me up in a plane, you silly boy. Not that I’m saying you won’t be my first…but come on! And it’s not lame. I like that the pink and purple clouds remind you of me. Every time I see a plane I send a little call out for your safety. Gotta keep you safe, rocketman! Talk soon and love you! x

01/06 @ 4:45pm

My parents just dropped me off at the airport and no matter how many times I leave them, I always cry. I think the only time I didn’t cry when I left their house was when you were with me over Thanksgiving. You always make it better, bubs.

They’re coming down in a couple weeks to help me start packing, anything in the house you wouldn’t want them to see while dropping off boxes? I can still bring my old bed, etc for the guest room, right?

All my love, x

01/06 @ 9:58pm

I think I get that, having you around this time makes it different. I’ve never had anyone to really write to while I’ve been away before. Sure, I talked to my grandparents when they were still around and my aunts and uncles, Nat, Ice, and a couple others, but not like this. And I don’t ever want to not feel like this again. 

I’m an open book, kid. Ain’t got nothing to hide. And yeah, anything like that feel free to bring with you for the guest room or office. It was the bed, nightstands, and dresser and then your couch for the office, yeah? We can get new bedding and pillows for it if you want? I’m on comms blackout for a couple days, so message me whenever you want so I can read them all when we’re back online.

Your Bradley

01/06 @ 10:07pm

Perfect! Love you and stay safe, rocketman.

01/06 @ 10:09pm

Love you too, kid.

01/09 @ 6:11pm

Bradley, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there was a raccoon in your garage! Scratch that, a FAMILY of raccoons!??! I’m sure Mr Harrington was ready to call the cops when he heard my scream. They’re so cute, but also terrifying at the same time? So, I called Pete and he came right over, a true knight in shining armor! Amelia and I did a THOROUGH sweep of the house to make sure they were relegated to the garage. Pete got them out safe and sound with a random tennis racket and your 4 iron, but somebody’s coming tomorrow to check on how they got in there. And I know they aren’t hurting anyone, but I just don’t want there to be any issues later on? (The babies were actually so cute and reminded me of my cat growing up, Porter.) Anyway! Enough drama for tonight, I hope that gets a laugh out of you - talk soon!

Love you! x

01/10 @ 8:05am

Well, the exterminator got here around 7:30 and sprayed all this stuff and blocked the hole in the crawl space of the garage. He showed me pictures and let me tell you, there was quite the nest up there. These raccoons were living large over the holidays. 

01/12 @ 5:21pm

Okay! I’m in the parking lot, waiting for my first cooking class to start. Is it weird I’m a little nervous? I hope everyone else’s skill level is similar, I don’t like feeling behind. I brought my new apron, ironed it and everything. I feel a little like Ina Garten, isn’t she just divine? Okay, okay, I’m going in now! I’ll let you know how it goes! Thanks again for getting me these xx

01/12 @ 7:03pm

I feel so tired? Like my hand cramped a little bit? We started off the class with knife skills, which we’re going to do every week and then made this “simple” egg dish, which was NOT simple and I overcooked the egg. Ina would be so disappointed. Alas! Onto next week. Love you!

01/15 @ 9:12pm

Bradley you’re not going to BELIEVE what just happened on Succession. My heart is POUNDING? Do you think if I called and asked really nicely the Navy would get an HBO subscription for everyone? That is what I would like my tax dollars to go towards. Can you get me a direct line to someone in charge please? Love you!

01/16 @ 7:47am

Not to worry my little Barefoot Contessa, I have returned back to civilization (ie the internet), though am dismayed to have missed this mind blowing Succession episode? Has Perry Mason started back up again or will we be able to watch that together? 

Bob and I were in the gym earlier and he almost dropped a dumbbell on my foot, I swear my life flashed before my eyes. But I had a new PR on the bench press today, up to 285 pounds. Glad the cooking lesson went well though! What’s the class makeup like? x Bradley 

01/16 @ 9:04am

I’m glad you’re back online and safe! Perry Mason has not started yet, though I’m still certain you’re the only person under the age of 55 that watches it (I guess I should say we’re the only people under the age of 55 that watch it, but whatever). You’ve also missed a couple Top Chef episodes, but we can always binge this season later. 

There’s about 12 of us in the class and it’s pretty evenly split? Though there’s tragically this really annoying couple who were at the station next to me. I hope we get to change next week, I don’t think I can watch them feed each other food another week. 

And I’m still waiting for that direct line to the Navy, Bradshaw! Love you! x

01/1 6 @ 6:59pm

Wait, wait, how did I miss there? There was a WHAT in my garage? A raccoon? Multiple raccoons? We need to get a dog or a cat or something. x Bradley 

01/18 @ 7:02am

Bradley!! I know we talked about a trip once you got home (provided you still feel up for it with the transition and all), what if we went here? I was talking about our tentative plans with my dad and Mary before I went back to San Diego and they went to Punta Mita this past fall and LOVED it! What do you think? Love you!

01/18 @ 6:03pm

Holy shit! That looks absolutely amazing, yes I’d love to go! Can we afford that though? It looks expensive? xBradley

01/18 @ 6:05pm

YAY!! Ahh, I’m so excited you have no idea! I want to hug and kiss you so bad right now! We can fly for free since I have a bunch of AA points (thank you pwc) and then I have like a million Amex points, so it’s not full price!! 

01/18 @ 6:12pm

When you say ‘like a million’ do you actually mean a million or?

01/18 @ 6:14pm

Yes! I’ve had this card for like 15 years! My whole family does the pooling on it! It’s a drop in the bucket, promise! Plus, I always use my other card for work and that has a whole bunch of Bonvoy points on it, too. We could stay at one of those? I think there’s a St Regis next door?

01/18 @ 6:22pm

Sweetheart, I want to go, I just don’t want you to waste all those points on this. 

01/18 @ 6:26pm

What if we go for 6 nights instead of 9? Maybe no plunge pool? Or we could pay cash instead? And then I could get 6x the points from paying that way? So, really….the points just keep accumulating, we’ve got to use them sometime! The points can pay for the flights and the hotel and then we can split the room charges and incidentals 50:50?

Will you think about it? You don’t have to give me an answer right away and we can always pick another hotel? But if we want to go someplace in late March/early April, I think we should book soon with spring break and all? Not that I imagine many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, but you never know…

01/18 @ 6:33pm

You gotta send me a ppt on all this points stuff, you know math stresses me out. And no, I don’t think many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, kid. 

01/18 @ 6:37pm

Can I send you a dossier with everything!?! Even if you say no to that I’m doing it anyway ;) just promise me you’ll think about it, please? I’ll do whatever you want, Bradley <3

01/18 @ 6:40pm

Yes, please send the dossier my way henceforth, Moneypenny. 

And you’ll do whatever I want, huh? Might have to send you a dossier of my own now…

(But yes, I promise I’ll seriously consider everything. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to spend all this money to make me happy. I’d say we’d both be happy camping out on the beach, but I think that might be a security issue down there, plus neither of us like camping - anyway, you know what I mean.)

01/18 @ 6:43pm

Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!! Is this a dossier for my eyes only? What will M say!? I’ll send you mine if you send me yours?

(But seriously, thank you! I’ll send you more specifics tomorrow - like pricing and whatnot - and you can take a couple days to think it over. And thank you for clarifying the camping thing, I was worried for a second there.)

I love you so much rocketman and we’ll talk (email) tomorrow 

x Moneypenny 

01/18 @ 6:46pm

I’d say ‘sleep tight,’ but that’s a given considering you haven’t been fucked in a couple weeks. 

(Perfect, I genuinely am really excited about it, just want to make sure it works out for us both.)

Love you so much, kid 

Your Bradley

01/18 @ 6:58pm

Bradley Bradshaw!! You did not just say that over a government email server! 

Imissyourcocksobadlyit’sdrivingmeinsane

01/18 @ 7:01pm

Couldn’t help it. Plus, we both know it’s true. 

01/18 @ 7:04pm

Oh, shut up. Shut me up

01/18 @ 11:43pm

I’m sorry if I came off too strong about planning earlier, I might’ve gotten a little carried away and been a little too eager about planning something five days after you’re home from a three month detachment. If at any time before you come home or even right after you come home you don’t feel up to the trip, please please please tell me. I want to do something nice for you and give you a chance to truly relax, but I’d hate for it to come at a price. So, just let me know, okay? Say the word and we’ll push it, alright? I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, but tell me if it’s ever too much. I’ll always be here, promise. Love you x

[dossier_for_your_eyes_only.ppt]

01/19 @ 8:29am

Kid, no. I promise I’ll tell you. You know I love how excited you get planning things. I think I like it so much because you take care of it all. Sure, you ask for my opinion and what I want, but I just have to tell you one thing, one idea and you take care of it. 

Funny though, isn’t it? How it’s totally opposite in the other side of our relationship? You tell me one thing, one idea and I take care of all of it? Bet it’s hard for you not having someone around to do that for you? Maybe next time we Facetime we can talk more about that? x B

01/19 @ 10:11am

Luckily, I have a very creative imagination, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. 

See right now, I’m in my office, sitting at my desk, feeling so overwhelmed. It almost hurts how overwhelmed and frustrated I am. And you bust down the door, hair windswept like you’d flown to Del Mar, and you have that slutty flight suit on and I don’t even mind that you’re sweaty and gross. You smell absolutely divine and I rake my hands through your hair as you eat me out underneath my glass desk. I get a conference call, but you don’t stop the entire time. You like how squirmy and fussy I get, I can’t focus on the deliverable I’m working on for the client. You like that I can’t control myself, that I squeeze my thighs around your head. Eventually, you can’t take it anymore, your cock is aching so badly, and you need to fuck me on top of my desk. You’re so strong it almost breaks. You fuck me so good everyone in the office can hear me crying out for you. 

(actually, I’m on the couch, watching college football, but it’s more fun to imagine you fucking me in my office - see, creative imagination! Make sure you get a quiet room for that Facetime...)

Love x

01/19 @ 7:29pm

You think you’re funny, huh? You have any more of those thoughts, feel free to send them my way. ‘m taking out that picture you gave me for Christmas right now. How you taking care of yourself? My imagination isn’t as creative as yours. B

01/19 @ 7:40pm

Guess you’ll have to wait for our next Facetime…

x

01/20 @ 4:24pm

Your dad and Mary write me emails, you know. They aren’t as good correspondents as you are (for how could they possibly be, my dear?), but they check in about once a week or so. Mary sends me some of the articles she gives her students and talks about the show she’s watching with your dad. Your dad mainly talks about you. It makes me wish my parents were still around to do this stuff with me. Just checking in and writing emails and bragging about me to my girlfriend? How was yesterday’s class?

Your Bradley

01/20 @ 5:39m

I didn’t know they wrote you that often and I’m beyond embarrassed that my dad talks about me that much? But come on, Bradley…you have someone who does that, too? He’s about 5’8” (on a good day), looks great in a leather jacket, and just spent about two hours last weekend cleaning your gutters and telling me about how you won your high school’s debate scholarship?? Like how could you not tell me that? It’s literally one of the hottest things I’ve heard about you!

Class was good! They taught us a trick to cut onions without crying and one of the other girls complimented my apron! We’re doing meats next week, cutting, marinating, cooking, etc. and I’m excited!

01/20 @ 5:42pm

Oh gee, I bet it’s just awful for you to have Mav around all the time. Knight in shining armor…

01/20 @ 5:48pm

He’s not a bother! And it’s not all the time! We’re actually going to get lunch together on Saturday! It’s this new place on the water.

01/20 @ 5:50pm

Sounds like a cute little date! You’ll have to tell me how he is. Love you so much B

01/20 @ 5:55pm

I’ll keep ya posted, bubs! Love you!

01/22 @ 10:01am

Breaking news, kid. Your esteemed, naval aviator boyfriend is going to be on 60 Minutes at the end of February. Totally came out of left field, but I couldn’t say anything until they finished filming. It’s about the Navy in the Pacific and “the lost art of shipbuilding.” They even rigged up a camera on my plane and everything, it was so cool. I’ve been dying to tell you, but again couldn’t say anything until it was official. I probably won’t be on it long since they interviewed the Admiral and Pac Fleet Commander for most of it, but yeah, Payback and Bob and I will be on with my girl Norah. I made sure I had enough sunscreen on so I was camera ready at all times. Love you B

01/22 @ 10:09am

YOU’RE FUCKING SHITTING ME????? Oh my god, Bradley! That’s amazing! Margie even ran into my office to see what made me shriek! I am TOTALLY having a viewing party! Oh my god, how do you think it went? Did they get your good side? What about hair and makeup? I know you get helmet hair, bubs. 

Seriously, so so excited and proud of you, Bradley! I’m going to make my dad and Mary come down for it! She doesn’t teach on Mondays, so this is perfect for them to stay over Sunday night! But now don’t go letting all that fame get to your head, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw 😉 Love you so much x

01/24 @ 12:17pm

Rocketman - 

I was sitting at my desk earlier and listening to some music before my 12:30 meeting and Elton John’s Rocket Man popped up on my shuffle. Obviously, as you are my rocketman, I always think of you whenever I hear it, but today the lyrics really scratched that special part of my brain, so I did a deep dive into the song’s origins. 

Please note, I’m including this time in my billable hours to the client (re. you). My findings are as follows:

Bernie Taupin was inspired by a Ray Bradbury story written in 1951 titled ‘The Rocket Man’ - not drugs as the urban legend states! Drugs! Imagine!

Bradbury’s ‘The Rocket Man’ was first published in Maclean’s, a weekly Canadian magazine, before it was published in the short story collection ‘The Illustrated Man’ that same year

‘The Illustrated Man’ later was made into a film, though ‘The Rocket Man’ story was notably absent

Some of more popular and renowned stories from the collection include ‘The Veldt’ and ‘The Long Rain,’ the latter of which is commonly read in high school honors English

Was client in honors English? Please confirm in follow up correspondence

Client has mentioned extensive library resources at disposal - perhaps he can check this collection out on his next visit? But for now, an executive summary has been provided:

With space travel more commonplace in society, Doug’s father, an astronaut, is sent on frequent, three- month journeys into space

Despite missing his dad, Doug also longs to be a Rocket Man, though his mother frequently prevails on Doug to beg his father to stay on Earth and be with the family

“What’s it like, out in space?” Mother shot me a frightened glance. It was too late. Dad stood there for a full half minute trying to find an answer, then he shrugged.“It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things.” Then he caught himself. “Oh, it’s really nothing at all. Routine. You wouldn’t like it.” He looked at me, apprehensively. “But you always go back.” “Habit.”

The father finds that his work is ruining his life, but the draw of the stars is too great: "You don’t know what it is. Every time I’m out there I think, if I ever get back to Earth I’ll stay there; I’ll never go out again. But I got out, and I guess I’ll always go out.”

Even while on vacation with the family, having Thanksgiving dinner, or sitting on the back porch, the father’s eyes are always on the sky…

Doug’s father begs him to not be like him, to not be a rocket man, but what happens when his father goes on one last journey to the stars?

Through much reflection, I have decided that ‘The Rocket Man’ was written about you - and your mom and your dad and me and on and on until there is no longer a need for Rocket Men - or the rocket man simply stops and breaks the cycle

You are both the Rocket Man and the little boy, forever waiting for his father to come home from space

The allure of flying, of being a ‘rocket man,’ is both too great and too sad for you to ignore

None of this is to say the rocket man is selfish, no. He simply cannot resist the temptation. He knows nothing other than the thrill and peace of being amongst the stars

And his mother shielding Doug from the sun at the end is like your mom asking Mav to pull your papers, she does it to save him, but it cannot keep him from becoming his father

Needless to say - I had to postpone my 12:30 meeting until tomorrow as my eyes were far too puffy and any word I tried to say felt like cotton in my mouth.

I miss you and I love you - your ‘Lilly’  

01/24 @ 8:22pm

Fuck - I love you so much. My clever girl.

01/24 @ 8:28pm

I pour my heart out to you and that’s all you have to say, rocketman? ‘Fuck - I love you so much’

(of course, I also love you so much, my clever boy.)

01/24 @ 8:30pm

Darling - it’s going to take me a little longer to come up with any commentary you deem appropriate, so for the sake of time, yes. I gotta read this story in full. I’ll be at the library at my earliest convenience. ‘The client’ will send an annotated copy with his notes henceforth.

01/24 @ 8:32pm

Of course, sweet boy. Goodnight, I love you so much. x

01/25 @ 11:44am

As promised, my darling girl. Love you.

[b.bradshaw_the rocket man_final paper.pdf]

01/25 @ 7:14pm

Oh Bradley! I love you so much, rocketman. Yes, I couldn’t have said it better. Yours x

01/26 @ 10:39am

Bradley! They’re sending me to London in February for two weeks! I even get a swanky corporate apartment for the stay. I wish you could come with me - even if it was just for a long weekend? We could go to all my favorite restaurants and afternoon tea and for walks in all the parks. One day it’ll work out! 

But tragedy of all tragedies! I just realized I’m going to miss a couple cooking lessons when I’m in London! I already emailed the instructor before today’s class and she said there’s other classes throughout the week that are behind us, so I can make it up with them! Ahhh I’m so excited! Talk soon, love you!

01/26 @ 11:13pm

I didn’t realize how nervous I was about the trip until I went to bed tonight. It’ll be my first trip abroad since I got my promotion in November. Plus, it’s a completely different client than my last trip abroad and I’ve only met one person on this new London team before. Sometimes I go into these meetings and still feel like a little kid? I’m always the youngest person in the room and normally the only woman and on one hand, that’s cool? But sometimes I feel like someone’s daughter instead of their colleague? Like these guys are my dad’s age? And they’re actually supposed to listen to what I have to say about their company? Do you ever feel like that? Like you don’t really belong, despite knowing you’ve earned your place? I wish you were beside me right now. My bed feels way too big tonight. Love you.

01/27 @ 7:48am

Sweetheart! I am so unbelievably proud of you! That’s amazing! You gotta celebrate, go out to dinner with Caro and Darcy, maybe even Nat! I know you’ve been working so hard these last couple of weeks, you absolutely deserve this. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but yes. I have absolutely felt like I haven’t belonged or deserved something despite having ‘checked off all the boxes.’ I felt that way when I got promoted to LC and when I got that award in October. Everytime I see it on my uniform, I feel a bit like a faker? Like do I really deserve this? But then I remember the way you smiled at me when I got back to my seat that night and how proud of me you were and I think maybe I do deserve it? Plus, I also think of how goddamn gorgeous you looked all fucked out later that night. 

And please note, I would happily slip into bed alongside you, especially since my bed feels way too small tonight. Love you, Bradley

01/27 @ 10:56am

Thank you for earlier. I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like I’m just too soft for all of this? Like I’m always trying to prove something to everyone and I get a little lost. Tell me something good? x

01/27 @ 7:01pm

How about this? Every time I go up in the sky and see the way the sun hits the clouds, I think of you. I’ve never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you. I love you so much, kid

Your Bradley 

01/27 @ 7:06pm

Sometimes I can’t believe we love each other this much, it feels like a dream  x

01/27 @ 7:11pm

I can. Your Bradley 

01/30 @ 7:08am

i slept in one of your shirts last night. it doesn’t smell like you anymore, but it feels like you: soft and safe and warm x

01/30 @ 7:23am

Well I spray my pillowcase with your perfume whenever I miss you so I guess we’re even

Your Bradley

ps - can you send me another bottle?

01/30 @ 7:34am

You’re already out? What sort of illicit behavior are you engaging in with that perfume bottle? 

01/30 @ 10:33pm

I burrow my face in my pillow so I can smell it while I fist my cock, why? What’d you have in mind?

01/30 @ 10:37pm

How does that work though? Like genuinely? Do you jack off with Rueben in the top bunk? Or wait till he’s in the gym? I’ve been curious about this for a while now. What about the showers? Is it like an open floor plan thing? Or are there stalls? Is there a Zillow listing for this aircraft carrier?

01/30 @ 10:41pm

Now why would I ruin the mystery? 

01/30 @ 10:43pm

Bradley!!!!

01/30 @ 10:44pm

Atta girl, that’s the spirit! Love you 

02/02 @ 6:30pm

I am so sick of going to the gym. It seems like it’s all Payback and I do lately. We got this new workout regime that’s been killing me - don’t say it’s because I’m old. Though, I have been using my Theragun. Payback does my back if I do his in return. It was only awkward the first time he turned it on too hard and yelped (please tell everyone that). 

02/02 @ 6:46pm

Oh, so you and Rueben Theragun each other, huh? Say more Lieutenant Commander!

02/04 @ 2:45pm

Going to Pete and Penny’s in a bit to watch the Super Bowl! Max is at the game, apparently his golf buddy Jimmy G hooked him up, though he neglected to bring me or Caroline. I feel like you would’ve been his first choice, so take that as a compliment I suppose. Do you guys do anything onboard for it? I have $350 on the 49ers winning by 3. Have a lovely day my darling boy x

02/04 @ 9:30pm

Guess who’s as snug as a bug on a rug in her bed AND $1400 dollars richer? That would be me! When you get home we’re going to Juniper and Ivy, my treat, bubs! x

02/06 @ 4:57am

Awww sweetheart are you gonna sugar mama me again? 

02/06 @ 7:03am

You do know the only reason you’re getting away with that is because there’s an ocean between us, right? 

02/06 @ 6:00pm

Sorry, couldn’t resist! Love you! B

02/06 @ 6:10pm

You’re lucky I love you so much. x

02/08 @ 9:58pm

Can you imagine if I was gone for 20 years?

02/08 @ 10:11pm

Bradley that’s not funny 

02/08 @ 10:13pm

It’s not supposed to be. I’m reading the Odyssey and it got me thinking. 

02/08 @ 10:16pm

Bradley I love you something awful, but you are such an old man sometimes. 

Are you going through some sort of midlife crisis reading the Odyssey while you’re at sea?? Is the Old Man and the Sea next?

(ps i love the thought of you reading in your bunk in your spare time and being so struck by something composed thousands of years ago that you have to email me)

02/08 @ 10:20pm

They wait 20 years to get back to each other - practically half their lives. They miss so many things and barely knew each other before he left, but they’re still so - I don’t even know? They’re just so intent on getting back to the other in Odysseus’s case? While Penelope makes sure there’s something for him to come back to? And I must’ve read this stanza ten times before I had to email you: 

"...the gods cast me upon Ogygia, Calypso's island, home of the dangerous sea nymph with glossy braids, and the goddess took me in in all her kindness, welcomed me warmly, cherished me, even vowed to make me immortal, ageless, all my days - but she never won the heart inside me, never" 

And I know it’s not a perfect comparison or parallel, but I read that last bit and I couldn’t help but think of you? And how you’re the one who won my heart and it’s always going to be that way. Whether I see you in twenty seconds or twenty years.

02/08 @ 10:23pm

You’d come home to me whether it took twenty seconds or twenty years. You’d come home to me and I’d know you anywhere. I love you so much. 

02/08 @ 10:58pm

“Now help me, please, to get back home, and quickly! I miss my family. I have been gone so long it hurts.” 

Your Bradley

02/09 @ 7:03pm

At the airport for London! Taking off! And I may or may not have used points to upgrade to a Club World seat…but like? It’s a nonstop flight, so it’s okay, right? Work’s already paying for business class? It’s points from my work card? It’ll be fine, right?

I had to take an ativan in the lounge. I just hate that I still get so nervous whenever I fly long distance? I fly all the time, I shouldn’t be like this? You know, one time, I pretended you were flying my plane. I know it’s kind of dumb and silly and a completely different type of plane, but it made me feel better because you’d never let anything happen to me. 

Anyway, we’re book buddies!! I went to the bookstore a couple days ago and got a copy! I read the Odyssey back in high school, but forgot so much. I was reading in the lounge and this part made me think of you:

“...this lovely house, my marriage home, so full of wealth and life, which I suppose I will remember even in my dreams.”

I’ll text you when I land my darling boy, love you x

02/10 @ 6:02am

You gotta squeeze every last bit of your per diem out of pwc. You’ve been working way too hard lately. Fuck it, on the way home just put the upgrade on your work card or put it on mine. Have a safe (rest of your) flight - maybe one day you’ll let me take you up. Love Bradley 

02/10 @ 10:08am

Just landed and on my way to the office (already…)

I thought of you as I read and stared out the window on the plane. I could pretend I’m flying towards you, rather than further away. I can’t imagine how you feel doing this everyday, but I imagine it’s like feeling limitless, like everything is in front of you, there for the taking. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you take me up one day. 

I’ll keep you posted on how everything’s going if you do the same. All my love x

02/12 @ 5:49am

How’s it going, kid? They working you too hard? You’re in London! Try to enjoy it, you deserve it. One of the guys I’m with gave me a restaurant recommendation for you, said the drinks were amazing, his wife loved it. Do something fun while you’re there! And send me some pictures dammit!

Love you, 

Bradley 

02/12 @ 8:22am

Bradley! It’s been so so crazy here! I feel like I haven’t stopped since I landed. My ‘flat’ is so cute and right by the client’s offices, so it’s an easy commute. I feel so professional taking the Tube places too! It’s one thing I’d like us to have in San Diego as opposed to all the traffic. Also, it’s CHILLY here and I’m so glad I dug my big coat out of storage. I’ll try and check the restaurant out this weekend, I’m gonna sneak in a trip to the Tate, too. I’ve always wanted to see the Turners. Talk soon and love you bunches! x 

02/14 @ 9:54am

Bradley Bradshaw! You absolute SAP! HOW!?! Did you conspire with my dad again? Thank you for the flowers! I’m going to have the biggest smile on my face all day. I love you and hope this is the first of a lifetime of Valentine’s Days together. Always x 

02/14 @ 7:33pm

Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, kid. I’m not gonna lie, I gave your dad very specific instructions for the bouquet (I was going to ask Max, but he’d probably swap it for something ugly and cheap and keep the change…kidding (not)), so I’m glad they turned out well. It was a very big day on board today: we got special red heart cookies for the holiday. The mood was infectious, I can still taste the sprinkles. Maybe you could cook for me on our next Facetime? Have you learned anything good in class lately? It doesn’t have to be fancy, just wanna see you (and maybe also live vicariously through whatever you’re making).  

02/14 @ 7:33pm

Bradley! I think I can swing that for you, when do you think our next call will be? 

02/16 @ 3:18pm

Kid, you spoil me. This package is amazing, I don’t know where to start (just kidding it’s with the Cadbury chocolate and the Sudocrem as my burnt shoulders thank you), but everything is wonderful, thank you. I love hearing about London and seeing the pictures you sent last time. But I do have one complaint…you’re not in any of the pictures, kid, and that’s truly egregious. (Think we won’t be able to Facetime for a while, I gave Payback my slot the other day.)

02/16 @ 3:23pm

That’s not true! I’m in the one in front of the Tate!

02/16 @ 3:25pm

Yeah, but I can’t see you under all those layers! Just want to see your face. It’s been way too long since our last Facetime.

02/16 @ 9:52pm

As requested, Lieutenant Commander. I had one of the girls in the London office take this at dinner tonight. She really did wonders with the lighting and even managed to get my sidecar in the pic! x Love you

02/17 @ 6:55am

You look pretty. New dress? B

02/17 @ 7:17am

Maybe…it was on sale, couldn’t resist. But you’re gonna hate me because all of my clothes are very much not going to fit in your closet. Also, I bought you a new jacket and some socks. x

02/17 @ 7:20am

Ehhh I’m not too worried about the closet thing. But if you keep buying me clothes we might have a problem.

02/17 @ 7:24am

It’s so cute though!! You’re going to look so handsome in it! I got the green one for you!

02/17 @ 7:29am

Okay, admittedly a very nice jacket, thank you. But you are aware that we live in San Diego…

02/17 @ 7:31am

I am aware of that fact, LC Bradshaw. You can wear it when we visit my parents. Hell, I had to get my coat out of my storage closet for this trip. 

02/17 @ 6:53pm

Sighhhhh you raise a good point. Alright, alright, thank you for the jacket and socks my darling girl. What’d you have for dinner last night? We had chicken with these absolutely awful biscuits, tasted like saw dust, my stomach was growling for some more of that Cadbury chocolate (yes, Payback and I ate all of it already, though it was mainly Payback) for hours afterward. 

02/17 @ 6:59pm

Oh my sweet boy! Who do I need to call about your meal plan? Give me the number and I’ll call the Navy up right now. And I had scallops with truffle risotto. It was delicious. Wanted to lick the bowl clean. Love you bubs x

02/19 @ 10:22pm

Bubs, I cannot eat another meal out. I feel like I’m going to burst. I’ve gone to so many work dinners and lunches even before coming here, it almost makes me feel like a glutton. 

I miss you and your cooking (though I’ll have you know that my skills were vastly improving before my trip abroad!) and you standing behind me at the counter while I try to perfectly cut peppers. Sometimes I do it wrong on purpose so you’ll put your arms around me and I can feel the rumble of your voice. Would we call that weaponized incompetence? You better be ready for some Michelin Star meals when you get home, buddy. I just can’t wait to be home with you and roll over next to you in the morning and to tell you to stop snoring and that the battery in the smoke detector needs to be changed. I can’t wait to be home with you and make a life with you. I’m going to be really sappy now, but let me have this because I was reading this poem the other day and thought of you. 

“I am supposed to be touched. I can’t wait to find the person who will come into the kitchen just to smell my neck and get behind me and hug me and breathe me in and make me turn around and make me kiss his face and put my hands in his hair even with my soapy dishwater drips. I am a lovely woman. Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?” (x)

Only a month until you’re home with me, I hope you’re hungry. 

All my love x

02/20 @ 4:50am

It’s only weaponized incompetence if the other person minds. I, however, do not mind. I loved that quote you sent me, going to be thinking about that one for a long time. I hate to tell you this, but I’m gonna be offline for a couple days. I hate that it’s at the end of your trip, but please please message me when you’re leaving/taking off and again when you land, you know I worry. Love you and am so unbelievably proud of you, kid! You killed it in London. Your Bradley

02/20 @ 7:03am

That’s okay, I totally understand. I’ll give you all the details on our next Facetime. In the meantime, I message you when I leave. Stay safe and love you, Bradley! x

02/23 @ 3:45pm

Taking off soon! I got an upgrade again, thankfully! And I made sure to put your new coat in my carry on - I don’t trust British Airways not to lose it! Taking an ativan again so hopefully I’ll sleep the entire flight - love you and talk soon!

02/24 @ 10:33pm

Just landed, slept through….90% of the flight! Apparently, there was bad turbulence, so probably for the best. Now, I know you would never have me deal with that my darling rocketman! Talk later - love you! x

02/25 @ 7:09pm

Feels kind of weird being back? I can’t quite get back into my routine. I’m not sure if it’s jet lag or something else? Feeling a little lost? x

02/26 @ 7:55pm

Bradley!!! You were so good, I’m so so proud of you! Max had everyone over at his place for us to watch you! We have quite the party here including my parents, Pete, Penny and Amelia, Natasha, Mickey and Cielo, Caroline, and Darcy. I’ll have to tell you about the parents meeting later. I wish you had been here for it, they took to each other like bees to honey. 

You looked tragically handsome, I practically had to hold back a moan when you were standing on the flight deck talking to Norah O’Donnell (is she as nice in person as she is on TV?). God, I want to ravish you, you sounded so fucking smart. You know like half the country is going to be in love with you now, right? I’ve got to get back to everyone, Max ordered dinner for us afterwards, but I had to email you as soon as you finished!

Just wanted to let you know how proud of you I am and how much I love you x

02/27 @ 5:09am

Thanks, kid. Sorry it took me a bit to respond, things have been getting a bit crazy, you know, now that I’m a celebrity and all? We’re winding down this training, so the next couple weeks are gonna be full of debriefs and paperwork, which means I should have a more stable schedule. Love you B

02/28 @ 11:48pm

Sometimes I wonder if you were here what would you do? Hold me? Love me? I never feel small except when I’m in your arms. x

02/29 @ 11:48pm

Some nights in bed, if I try really hard, I can imagine I’m laying down next to you. And it makes everything just a little easier. Bradley

03/01 @ 12:56am

I haven’t taken anything besides my fingers in months. You’re going to stretch me out so well when you get home. 

03/01 @ 7:19pm

And I’m gonna mark your ass pink for that comment. I can’t believe you sent that in the middle of the day. You getting yourself off at work? Dirty girl. 

03/01 @ 9:41pm

Never feels as good as when you do it. 

03/01 @ 10:01pm

And my hands pale in comparison to your pretty little cunt. You know that first time we slept together you were so fucking tight, I knew you hadn’t had a good fuck in ages. It gonna be like that again when I come home?

03/01 @ 10:05pm

Where are you going to have me first?

03/01 @ 10:06pm

In our bed, in our house, after you make me dinner in our kitchen. 

03/01 @ 10:09pm

Just over two weeks now, I can’t wait to see you. x

03/03 @ 5:55am

How you holding up, kid? You doing a little better this week work wise? Try and log off around 5 if you can. Don’t want you getting all worn down on me. 

They had us doing these war games yesterday that made me think of you. You would’ve walked circles around some of these other guys I swear. Think I can get a Facetime for us in a couple days? Probably will be our last one before I come home. Love you, B

03/03 @ 7:12am

Bradley! That's the best news I’ve had in ages! I can’t wait to see you! Definitely felt a little lost after coming back from London, but I hope my rut will be over soon? Tying things up with a client is always so lengthy and tedious. 

War games! ‘Would you like to play a game?’ I’d ask if you won, but no one ever wins in the art of war 😉Love you!

03/05 @ 8:54pm

So, here’s a new one. My mom called? She’s going to be stateside and wants to get lunch tomorrow. Could’ve done with a bit more warning, but apparently, she has a layover in San Diego on her way to New York to see my brother? I didn’t even know she was going to see him? I don’t even know if I want to see her? It’s funny, I can already tell you exactly how it’ll play out:

We’ll go to lunch at some sort of vegan restaurant, probably Donna Jean

She’ll make me pay

She’ll try to get me to use some sort of herb to promote weight loss since I’m looking a bit “pudgy” around the face

Though she’ll forget to ask about you, she’ll tell me about her latest string of failed relationships with bartenders and surf instructors in Canggu. Or is it Ubud? I genuinely don’t remember, she started in Ubud, but honestly my knowledge of Balinese geography is rudimentary at best 

She’ll ask how ‘that woman’ is doing as if Mary is just the woman my dad is seeing, not the woman who raised me and my brother

And finally, she’ll ask for money though betting is still open as to what for!

So, what do you say? Wanna put a wager on it? Your terms.

Love you! x

03/06 @ 6:30am

$100 she orders the caesar and makes you pay. I’m not even going to entertain the third parlay, pretty girl. Oddly feeling like she’s got a winner on her hands so yes she’ll talk about her new paramour. Does she really call Mary ‘that woman?’ And yes, without a question, she will ask you for money.

Your move my gorgeous girl,

Bradley

03/06 @ 7:49pm

I really wish you were here right now. She doesn’t even know me, but she somehow always manages to make me feel small. 

Caesar - no croutons 

I paid

Pudgy and frumpy, but she was hawking shakes not herbs

Failed relationship? No, she’s actually GETTING MARRIED

She did not ask about you much other than to say I need to watch my figure for you (see bullet point no. 3)

Mary was called ‘that woman’ six times before I stopped counting

She asked for money as a wedding present 

So, you didn’t get them all, but not a bad showing. Love you. Talk tomorrow on Facetime. x

03/07 @ 6:09am

God kid, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Actually, I don’t even think she deserves to know what she’s missing. Did you talk to your dad or Mary about it? I know we’re talking later, but I just wanted you to have a message from me before you start your day. What’re you wearing to the office tomorrow? Have you worn that polka dot dress with the bow lately? You know it’s one of my favorites and that I always love unwrapping it when you get home from the office. 

Can’t wait to see you tonight. All my love, Bradley

03/07 @ 9:55am

The dress doesn’t fit. My mom was right, I shouldn’t have gotten the french toast.

I’m planning on talking to dad and Mary later today before you and I have our Facetime. I know they’ll make me feel better, much like you have my darling boy, but it still feels pretty crummy. Especially since I’m sure she’s going to have wonderful time in New York with my brother 🙄 and I’ll have to hear all about it next time I talk to him. 

And I’m not sure if I’ve unpacked that dress yet! I’ll have to do some digging. Talk soon! x

03/10 @ 3:26am

We had a little baby. He was always giggling and laughing and we were making silly faces and he looked so small in your arms, Bradley. So small and little and he was ours. And then I turned around and he was toddling around the house and we were chasing him and his little legs were moving so quickly and we all wound up on the couch in a tangle of limbs, giggling under the blankets as we tickled him and he called you daddy. 

It wasn’t our house - or what will be our house, I guess? Instead of the leather couch you have, it was white and big and wide and the three of us could easily fit on it, snuggled together. 

And I could feel your arms around me, rocking me back and forth. I could feel you humming in my ear and kissing my neck and telling me you loved me. I could feel it. I could feel you. I could feel him and you. And it was nice and I felt warm and safe and cherished and loved. Because I felt so much love for this little boy in my arms - the perfect mix of me and you. Everything felt right and perfect. 

Except when I rolled over in bed to tell you about it, I realized I was alone in my bed, in my apartment, and not in the house that we shared or with the little boy that looked so much like you and I haven’t felt so empty and sad since I can’t remember when. 

And I just miss you so much, Bradley. I know I can come across as glib and unfeeling sometimes and like this doesn’t affect me as much. But it does and sometimes I feel like my heart is going to burst because I’ve never felt like this for anyone else before? It’s never been so easy for me to love someone and let them love me to the point that I always want to be beside them. And I know with your job - and mine - that can’t always happen, but god Bradley I wish you were here right now so you could hold me and tell me you loved me because I just want to feel your arms around me and know you’re real. I want to tell you about the little boy - the perfect mix of me and you. 

I love you rocketman x

03/11 @ 12:49pm

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I realize that’s a lot to drop on you, especially since we can’t talk in person. I guess I’ve just never missed a person more in my life and seeing that future showed me what we could have when you come home. God, Bradley I want you to come home so badly. I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave and to have that cute little boy who was the perfect mix of me and you and to have you here in my arms every night. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask or even make you think about it, but I want you right here - in twenty seconds, not twenty years. 

How did your hop go today? x

03/11 @ 7:03pm

I have dreams like that, too. I’ll be little, but still older than I was when my dad died and we’ll be at the beach, running around, and he’ll pick me up and spin me around like I’m flying on an airplane. 

But then it’ll be me and my kid, running around and I’ll pick them up and spin them around like they’re flying on an airplane. Sometimes it’s a girl, sometimes a little boy. But I always just can feel and tell that I love them and I’d do anything for them. 

And I used to hate waking up alone after I had them and I’d feel empty and sad and like I had the feeling that they should still be there? Except now I have you and I know it doesn’t just have to be a dream?

Sorry it took me so long to reply. Today was hectic and I didn’t get to check my email until later. But if I checked it earlier, my day would’ve been a lot easier on my heart. 

All my love,

Your Bradley

03/12 @ 7:11pm

How do you always know exactly what to say? I’m sorry for springing that all on you, know it wasn’t exactly a quick/easy message, but I love that you knew exactly what I meant. My day’s always a lot easier on my heart when I hear from you, too. Love you x

03/13 @ 10:17pm

i miss having you around to take care of me. and telling me what to do and what to wear for you and how you want me and where you want me and when you want me and and and. and how good i feel around you as you come, how you take what’s yours. how i need you to take control and tell me what i need because i’m too much of a dumb slut to figure it out on my own. i need you so much bradley. and it’s so hard because i’m trying to take care of myself like you do and imagine what you’d do if you were with me right now. but i’m so frustrated since no one takes care of me like you do. i feel so empty. nothing stretches me out like you do, nothing makes me feel as small as you do, nothing makes me flush like the sound of your voice against my neck as i come, nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do. need you to call me good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl, anything as long as it’s yours. 

i need you i need you i need you i need you bradley bradley bradley bradley

3/13 @ 10:39pm

Awwww sweetheart, did you get yourself all worked up over me? It’s okay, I know it’s hard for you all by yourself. Must’ve been real bad for you to risk this getting flagged, huh? Poor thing, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. 

Want you to pretend I’m next to you, leaning over you as you lay down and touch yourself. Say yes Bradley, more Bradley. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Good girl. 

Want you naked under the covers, no frilly little pajama set or anything. No, I want your cum to stain the sheets and then for you to have to clean up in the morning, all embarrassed because you did this. You made yourself like this because you can’t control yourself without me around. All that cum being wasted. Nobody around to lick it off your pussy. So what doesn’t get on the sheets, you have to taste. Good girl. 

Want you to use your fingers - only your fingers, I’ll know if you use anything else. Start with your breasts. Think of how perfectly they fit in my hands and how yours aren’t quite the same. They aren’t as big. Aren’t as strong. Play with your nipples, drag your nails across the soft skin on the underside of your breasts.

Want you to sigh my name as you slide your hands down your stomach towards your pretty little pussy. Have you shaved? Gotten a wax? You know how I like it, want it just like that when I get home. Pretend it’s my fingers sliding into your cunt. A few touches and you’re already clenching on air and I’m not even around. 

In and out, in and out. Circle your clit with your thumb. Add another finger, then another. You rocking your hips yet? I know you’re soaked. I know you want more. Three fingers can’t stretch you out nearly as much as you need. But I don’t know if you can handle anything else without me around. And I know you would never disagree with me, right? Because you’re my good girl and good girls do what they’re told. 

Don’t hesitate to get loud. You’re in our house, in our bed, you can be as loud as you want. Bet you’re getting close, huh? Try and last a little longer, can you hear yourself and how wet you are? Are you shaking yet? I know you’re close. Go ahead, speed up your fingers, just the way I do. It’s okay, you can come. Know you’re gonna get sleepy soon, wish I could sleep inside you, nice and tight.

Now say thank you Bradley. Good girl. 

03/14 @ 5:49pm

Thank you, Bradley. Thank you for taking care of me last night 

You like chicken piccata, right?

03/14 @ 7:33pm

Yeah, kid, I like chicken piccata. 

03/14 @ 7:39pm

Okay, that’s good. I’m going to make it when you come home. I ran it by my cooking instructor. Ina’s recipe of course. 

(I’ve read your email seven times since you sent it. I’ve thought about it constantly. I want you to take me softly and slowly that first time. But after that? I can’t wait to let go and float. Love you so much x)

03/15 @ 6:09am

You’re the boss. Good thing I’ll be home soon, you’re gonna run out of material. As is, I had to type that last one with one hand. 

Love you,

B

03/15 @ 7:21am

I’ll be good till you get home, promise. 

Have a good day, do you think we’ll get to talk much from now till Friday? Love you x

03/15 @ 7:24am

I’ll hold you to it. 

I don’t think so, might be able to send one out before leaving the boat. Better make it a good one. 

All my love

Your Bradley 

03/15 @ 7:25am

You got it! Love you bubs 

03/18 @ 11:08pm

Kid - there’s this lyric that keeps running through my head: ‘and I want you right here.’ I want you beside me - today, tomorrow, all my days. I want you right here, beside me forever. In twenty seconds, not twenty years. See you tomorrow.

All my love,

Your Bradley

03/18 @ 11:11pm

See you tomorrow, rocketman. I’ll be the one in blue.

Love you x

a/n: thanks for reading! i'll be back with part ii and part iii (hopefully not in...4 months). i had so much fun writing these and getting to explore a different format and side to their relationship! thanks to alexa @sometimesanalice, kylie @ofstoriesandstardust, cass @notroosterbradshaw, elle @dissonannce, nik @cherrycola27, and loren @heartsofminds for all the support!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #bradley and smart aleck #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader

[probablyasocialecologist]

As a Jew, I have felt completely alienated by the community that purports to represent me. In my earliest childhood memories, I recall  family members, Hebrew School teachers, and religious leaders telling me about the many promises of the state of Israel: a safe home for all Jews, a place – I was told – where we made the desert bloom. From as early as I can remember, I was taught by my family members and Hebrew School teachers that Jews need Israel because of the devastating losses during the Holocaust and enduring antisemitism. I went to Hebrew School three days a week, and remember feeling almost-constantly panicked about the potential for another Holocaust. The message was painfully clear: everyone hates Jews, and that’s why we need Israel. There was so much about Jewish history and culture I never learned in Hebrew School: our working-class roots and deep commitment to the labor and socialist movements both in Eastern Europe and in the U.S.; Sephardic and Mizrahi culture and customs; the history of Yiddish; even the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. And of course, left out of most American Jewish education are the violent origins of the Jewish state: Israel’s dispossession and mass slaughter of Palestinians in 1948. The land on which Israel was built was not a barren desert made fertile by Jewish refugees and immigrants, but the Palestinians’ homeland, inhabited for millennia. When I began to learn the truth – that Israel violently expelled almost 1 million Palestinians to create the state of Israel – I felt completely shocked, and deeply betrayed by the adults whom I had trusted. It seemed – and I now know with certainty that it is – antithetical to Jewish values. Since I first learned about the Nakba, I’ve regularly felt alone in my religious community. There’s an assumption – from both the Jewish community and society at-large – that because we are Jews, we are also Zionists. Yet, so much of my political compass – including my commitment to anti-Zionism, actually comes from what I’ve learned from being a Jew. The same Hebrew school teachers who instructed me to love Israel also taught me Jewish songs like Olam Chesed Yibaneh (we will build this world with love) and Lo Yisa Goy (nation shall not lift up sword against nation). Israel’s occupation of Palestine and its subjugation of Palestians contradicts these Jewish tenets, yet in a majority of American Jewish communities, those of us who oppose Israeli colonialism are treated as traitors. It’s been confusing to feel both deeply connected to Judaism and Jewish values, and to also be told repeatedly by Jews and Zionists that I’m a self-hating Jew. It often makes me feel like I have no safe religious home. The only times I’ve felt like I’m free to practice my religion as an anti-Zionist, and to proudly declare that I’m an anti-Zionist because I’m Jewish, are when I’ve taken action with Jewish Voice for Peace, an anti-Zionist, Jewish organization that stands in solidarity with Palestinians. 

#israel #palestine #zionism #antizionism #settler colonialism

[bippot]

Summary: Of course Bob has a family. It was obvious. Phoenix knew that that and did everything in her power to ensure he got back to them. So, she had to meet his wife and son.

A trip to the Hard Deck gives his son a new fascination and his wife a chance to reconnect with an old college...friend? Boyfriend? Whatever, it doesn't annoy Bob at all.

Tags: Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Parenthood, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Hint of Jealousy, Spanking

Song Recommendation: Need You Here by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Phoenix knew Bob had a family. He hadn't said anything but she knew. His lockscreen was of a pretty girl with a little blond boy who had to be around six months old in her arms, the pair smiling at the cameraman in the way her mother and her would look at her father.

And up in the sky, he kept two photos in his station. That same pretty girl in a white dress resting her head on the suited shoulder of a very dapper looking Bob. Next to that was a sonogram.

It was clear. Clear as day. He didn't need to say anything.

Part of Nat wanted to somehow convince her backseater to go home, to not put his life on the line and ensure that he lived to see his son grow up. Especially after the bird strike. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and yell, "Go back to your wife, you fucking idiot."

But she couldn't do that. One, that's overstepping boundaries. And two, it was Bob's choice. He could've walked away when he heard how dangerous it was. He didn't. Bob knew the risks so this must've been his decision.

Therefore, Lieutenant Trace made it her personal mission to get Lieutenant Floyd back to his family. And she did. After Nat sets her mind to something, she uses all of her focus on getting it done.

Once all was said and done, Bob found himself alive and dancing stupidly as Maverick and Rooster landed safely. In all the cheering and revelry, Bob pulled his friend into a huge bear hug, which was something she never expected, and thanked her profusely for taking such good care of him. Then they both just stood there like fools and laughed like loons until everyone eventually calmed down.

"Nat, uh, are you going to the Hard Deck later?" Bob asked as they waited to dock, nudging his shoulder into hers.

"Probably. Are you?"

"No. The second we get to land, I'm running - and I mean running - to see my wife. And Finley, my son." He got his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her so she could have a proper look at his lockscreen. "I understand if you'd rather spend tonight with everyone else, but do you want to meet them?"

Weirdly, outright admitting that he family was like a weight being lifted off his chest. It's not as if it was a secret in any way. He didn't try to hide the fact. Honestly, he doubted that his colleagues would care one way or another.

But now? After everything they'd been through together, he knew Phoenix cared. She wouldn't show it on the surface, but he could read between the lines. They were more than coworkers. They were friends now, and friends that ensured the other's survival. And while it was unlikely either of them ever talked about their feelings, they understood. They were there for each other, no matter what.

"You know I'm going to hit on your wife, right? She's hot," Nat teased him, laughing when he pretended to punch her.

Her voice got softer as she focused on little Finley. "He looks like you. Has the same eyes, same hair..." she murmured.

She saw Bob watching her, too, with a softness in his eyes. A longing to be back with them. To be holding his family again.

A tiny pair of hard plastic specs were placed on the boy's nose in the photo, causing Nat to tease, "Same eyesight, clearly."

"Finn sure looks like me, but he's chatty like Y/N, not that he can speak yet. He tries, and he tries an awful lot."

A chuckle escaped Bob's lips as he thought about the happy sounds of his son's babbling.

"And be warned, he will attempt to bite your nose. We don't know why. Every new person he meets, one second he's sitting quietly, the next, he's up on his feet and trying to take a nibble at their snout."

"Weird," Nat hummed in amusement.

Just as Bob said, as soon as they docked and could see their families, he drove them to the apartment his family stayed in whilst he was in Fightertown. The second the front door was open, a very distinct batch of high pitched giggles and the clumsy pitter patter of two tiny feet coming towards the aviators could be heard.

Finley, armed with a tiny fistful of 'Welcome Home' balloons, bounced towards his father and launched himself at Bob's legs. Bob dropped his backpack and scooped the baby up and gave a big squeeze.

"Hey, big guy!" he greeted cheerfully, kissing the top of Finley's head. The small boy looked up at him through his glasses and bumped his nose against his father's. "These balloons for me? Or are they for Phoenix?"

"So this is Phoenix?" Y/N chirped as she leant against the kitchen doorframe, looking down into the foyer with a huge smile. She pushed off to join them and immediately offered Phoenix a hug, which was accepted without hesitation. "Lovely to meet you. I've heard so much about everything you do, he tells me over dinner how you keep him in check."

Sincerely, as sincerely as she could make it, Y/N took Nat's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for taking care of my Bo."

Natasha smiled fondly before nudging Bob and jeering, "Bo, huh?"

"Shut it."

"You wouldn't believe my surprise when I found out that this dork has a supermodel for a wife," Nat flirted with a knowing smirk. Bob chuckled and shook his head in disbelief as Y/N waved off the compliment with a loud snort, but there was no denying how her cheeks grew a little pinker.

"Do you two want me to give you some space? I'll just step into the other room so I don't have to get cucked right in front of my and my son's eyes," Bob joked as he looked between the pair, swaying his son in his arms in long soothing motions. He beamed at his wife and asked, "Am I going to get some lovin' or what?"

Dropping Nat's hand after a quick pat on her knuckle, Y/N stood on her tiptoes to give Bob a chaste kiss on his lips. "You're gonna get plenty of lovin'," she promised, grinning cheekily and mimicking his accent.

Every time his parents kissed, Finley felt the need to get in there and surged his head forward. And, like usual, he fully headbutted the pair. It had happened so many times, yet the couple were never ready for it and both let out groans of pain and annoyance as he made contact, only to laugh afterwards.

"Oh, I missed ya too, munchkin," Bob cooed before gently putting Finley back on the floor. The tyke quickly ran into the living room, his father's balloons still in his hand, and began climbing onto the couch where his toys were eagerly waiting for him.

"That happens way too often," Y/N told Nat, smiling as she placed a kiss on the point of injury on Bob's nose. "How do you take your coffee, Phoenix?"

There was an ease of domesticity to their interactions which Phoenix found utterly captivating and adorable. She wasn't used to it. She wasn't used to casual affection, intimacy, even. Not from anyone, really. Her upbringing had been rather strict with its rigid social expectations as a lot of military families happen to be. Her parents never did anything casually and it felt odd to feel so relaxed in a home she'd never stepped foot in before.

"Black. One sugar."

As Y/N disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha looked around the apartment, her gaze stopping on one of the many frames lining the walls. A prom picture of very young and nervous looking Bob had his cheeks being teasingly pinched by Y/N, his face scrunched up as she laughed at him, was the first she really noticed.

Next to that an image of the pair when they were even younger, six, maybe seven. A wide grin stretched across tiny Bob's face as he posed in a fighting stance, clad in his Halloween costume, which was the blue power ranger - next to an equally fierce Y/N as she posed as the pink ranger next to him.

"Childhood sweethearts, huh?"

Bob nodded as he watched his son playing with his toys in the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I've been in love with Y/N since I knew what love was, probably even before that," he confessed with a chuckle. His smile grew even softer as he added, "Took a while for me to tell her, and I mean a while. Two and a half decades, actually."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "Two whole decades?!" she repeated in disbelief.

"I'm a nervous guy, okay?"

The aviators had a laugh at his expense, but had to cut it short as Bob quickly had to walk over to Finley to get him to stop trying to eat the corner of the coffee table. "What are you doing, you little freak?" Bob jeered at his boy, swooping him up in his arm and tickling him in retaliation until he let out a squeal of laughter. "Ahh, you're lucky I love you, little freak."

Finley reached his little hands out for his dad, trying to grab the fabric of his shirt as he wriggled desperately against Bob's grasp to escape the tickle attack. He was completely oblivious to Nat's amused expression as she observed the scene unfolding before her.

"I think he was born to be a dad," Y/N said as she appeared beside Nat with two cups of Joe in hand. She handed one to Natasha with a fond smile on her face, beaming as Bob began blowing raspberries on Finn's stomach. The little boy was practically hysterical as he kicked his legs frantically.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as she watched Bob, and then turned to look at Nat, who was shaking her head in silent laughter at the scene. "Yeah, he seems to be pretty good at the whole thing," Nat agreed softly. She held the hot mug between her hands and brought the rim to her mouth to take a sip, sighing appreciatively as she felt warmth spread through her body.

After the day both Nat and Bob had, they needed any sort of comfort.

"Go, sit, sit," Y/N encouraged with a gesture of her hand and moved to place her coffee down on the coffee table. Then, almost like magic, she reached into her back pockets to retrieve two juice boxes, cooing as she held them both out to Bob, "One for Finley. And the other for dada."

Father and son looked identical as they slurped on their juice, side by side, and Phoenix almost thought Bob had been dolly the sheeped. It was spooky how similar the two looked, but it was definitely more on the cute side of things.

It was like Y/N knew that talking about the mission and everything it entailed would be distressing. The aviators needed some time to cool off before they had to deal with the fact that, yes, they could've died today. Watching a cute little baby was the best way to do that, it seemed.

Once he was finished with his juice, Finley finally noticed that Nat was there. He dramatically showed that he'd finished his drink to his mother and, in the process of looking at the other sofa, saw that there was another person there. A new person. A person he'd never seen before. A stranger.

Someone who was watching them with a warm smile. A friend, obviously. A gasp escaped Finley's lips as he put down his empty juice box on Bob's lap and scrambled down to the carpet so he could run at Phoenix, his excited squeals filling the room as he threw himself at her knees.

"You're definitely not as shy as your papa," she joked, lifting the boy so he could sit on the sofa next to her. He didn't stay seated for long and jumped up to stand on her thighs and rest his chin on her shoulders, gazing at the new girl with big curious eyes.

"Nose bite in 3...2...1," Y/N counted, and as both parents expected, Nat was promptly nipped on the tip of her nose by an eager child, giggling happily. Nat laughed as she rubbed the area.

"You little menace!" she whined playfully, giving Finn a playful tickle behind his neck and earning a delighted shriek, making him roll on the cushions as he laughed loudly.

Watching his new best friend interact with his son, Bob let out a happy sigh and placed his head against Y/N's shoulder. She gave him a loving peck on the temple and let her cheek fall to his hair. They sat quietly for a moment or two, enjoying the quiet atmosphere, each lost in their own thoughts.

Then, Natasha's phone made a noise. A ringtone that made it very clear who was calling her. The distinct sound of cockerel blared from her cell.

"Rooster?" Bob asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Yeah, mind if I take this?"

"Go for it."

Getting up and away from the boy seemed to be a task, but when Y/N cooed, "Finn...Finn, baby, what's mama got here? Is it chocolate?" Nat was free since, all of the sudden, the boy shot out of his seat and immediately rushed towards her. She lifted him onto her lap and reached for the mostly eaten packet of chocolate buttons they kept on the coffee table for moments like this, moments they needed something to bribe with.

"Does daddy get any?" Bob pouted in a fake pout, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on his thighs as he looked between his wife and son. Finn just grinned at him as he stuck his hand into the packet, offering one button to his father and intending to eat the rest for himself.

Bob took the treat and popped it into his mouth without hesitation as Y/N shook her head with a light blush. Finley looked up at her curiously, as if he was asking if she wanted a button too.

"Can mommy have a button?"

A chocolate button was soon being squished at her mouth, much to Finn's delight, as Y/N chuckled softly and accepted the offer. "Good boy, you're so good at sharing," she praised before she pressed a quick kiss to Finn's forehead and passed the packet back over to Finley who immediately started stuffing his face with the remaining sweets.

All too soon, the chocolate had run out and Finley was not happy about that at all. Y/N could tell just by his face that he was seconds away from crying, so she gently lifted him so he was resting his head against her shoulder and swayed them slowly together in a soothing rhythm.

Nothing in the world beat the sight of his family to Bob.

Before the baby came along, the couple would usually be already in bed and up to less innocent things. It always went that way. Bob would get home and immediately throw Y/N over his shoulder and carry her upstairs. Now that would have to wait until their son was firmly asleep.

Yet, Bob was completely fine with that. He'd hold out for a few hours if that ensured he got to see Finley's happy little smile.

"Rooster heard the words 'baby Bob' and demanded that I try to convince you guys to come with me to the Hard Deck," Phoenix explained as she returned, slipping her phone into her back pocket as she moved to sit back down.

Y/N glanced over at her husband as if to say 'up to you' and Bob nodded with a hearty, "Why not? Rooster gets whiny when he doesn't get his way."

"You should've seen him the other day when Maverick beat him at darts again," Natasha told him as she sipped from her coffee cup and glanced around. "He played a Wham! medley on the piano because he knows Pete is not their biggest fan."

And that was one of Brad's tamer days.

"Wanna go see Rooster, bud?"

Even though he had no idea what the hell a Rooster was, Finn nodded at his father.

After gathering a quick necessities bag and Bob ensuring that the car seat was in fact placed properly - which was something he did every car ride and found the same result every time - the squad was making their way to the bar. Nat had to be relegated to the backseats, a rare thing when it came to her and Bob, and she couldn't help but feel awkward when the child locks ensured that Y/N had to open her door for her.

Bradley was eagerly waiting for their arrival. He was good with children and he knew it. So was it any surprise that the moment Finley saw the Hawaiian shirt clad pilot, he was thoroughly starstruck? No, it wasn't.

"Who is this little dude?" Rooster chirped from his seat at the piano bench, waving his hand towards Finley as the kid approached him with his arms opened wide to give a tight hug. Once Rooster received him, he swooped Finn up into his arms. "Hi baby Bob."

Finley smiled brightly, babbling away with a smile as he clung onto Rooster's shirt, his small fists holding onto it tightly. The three other adults were waiting for the inevitable nose bite, but it never came. No, the young blond just stared up at Rooster with sparkling blue eyes, staring at him like he was a superhero.

"Finn, this is Rooster, you know like the -" Bob was interrupted.

"Wroo."

Honestly if it hadn't been so cute, Bob and Y/N would've been jealous. There had been no Mama. No Dada. But there had been a Roo. Finley's first word honour had been given to Bradley, a man he'd just met over his parents. Children are so ungrateful sometimes.

Rooster cheered and playfully waved Finn's arms about in celebration, while Finley giggled excitedly. "That's it kid, I'm Roo. Can you say it again?"

"Wroo!" the little boy cheered, causing a laugh to escape from the others.

"Well, he's clearly found his favourite person," Y/N joked, teasingly elbowing Bob in the ribs. He pretended to be hurt at first, but he couldn't stop smiling and brought his wife into his arms, giving her a kiss on the temple as they observed as Bradley placed the boy on his lap and his hands over Finn's so he could guide him to play the piano.

Just like that, every woman in the surrounding area let out a collective "Aw" as the pair started playing a soft tune.

"Bradley is definitely getting laid tonight," Nat teased as her eyes drifted from woman to woman, all of whom were drooling over the pilot who was clearly a big fan of kids.

And to rile her husband up, Y/N whispered in Bob's ear, "Robert is definitely getting laid tonight too," and felt as a sly hand made its way down to rest on her ass, giving her a small slap as he tried to keep his face as neutral as he possibly could.

One song turned into two, three. Finn just kept wanting more and more, so Y/N offered, "Want a beer, I'll drive home?" as she knew they could be there for a while.

"You sure, darlin?"

"Have fun, baby. You deserve it." Bob kissed her on the lips tenderly. "What does Phoenix and Rooster drink?"

With everyone's orders, she made her way to the bar and ordered, but she never would've guessed to see someone she recognised there. Y/N happened to glance over her shoulder as she waited for the drinks and saw one of her college buddies.

Buddies? Were they buddies? Is that what they were? Y/N honestly had no idea what they were. Fuck buddies who hung out a lot and did more than sex but refused to say that they were anything more than that.

"Hey Seresin!"

Jake had to do a double take. One second he was about to pocket a ball and the next he was being called at by Y/N L/N, someone he hadn't seen in years. "Well, well, well, Y/N, how are you still so fine after all these years?" he greeted with his signature grin, placing the bottle of been nursing down on the bar so he could give her a hug.

"Ah, still a charmer I see."

"No amount of time can stop me from being me, and you! And you, you're lucky to be the object of my affection. Come on, it will be old times!"

Clearly, he was still the same Jake. Y/N brushed him off with a laugh and changed the subject, "I'm guessing you're a pilot now. How was the big, very secret mission?"

Penny arrived with Y/N's drinks and was thanked before Y/N gestured to what Jake was drinking, "Want another?" and placed another bottle in front of him. As Y/N went to pay, Jake caught a glimpse at her left hand. Shit. She was married? Oh well, his celebration plans went out the window.

"How'd you know about the mission?" He glanced at her curiously, bringing his bottle to his lip and took a swig.

"My husband."

"What?"

"Yeah, my husband flew. Actually, he didn't do the flying bit. Phoenix did."

Weird. Cause Phoenix flew with Bob. And... and... and that would make Bob... the penny dropped for Hangman and he had a million questions.

"Baby on board? Baby on board is married to you? That's - that's so fucking weird. I've fucked someone Bob has?!? And he married you? And you married him?"

Snorting, Y/N added, "And we have a kid."

"And you have a KID?"

"Uh huh."

"When did that happen?"

"Finn will be a year old in a month."

Like he'd been summoned, Bob came to see what the commotion was all about. He'd seen Hangman come up to his wife and expected her to send him packing within two seconds, but they seemed to know each other.

"Everything alright?" Bob asked, glancing between his wife and Hangman, who was looking absolutely flabbergasted.

"You didn't tell me you knew Jake Seresin, Bo," Y/N replied as she gave Bob a light slap on the arm.

"Bo? Bo! He's Bo? Robert Floyd is Bo your best friend from back home? Wait! This is your husband?" Pieces of information that she told him so long ago clicked into place. This was Bo, the boy who had her heart.

"Yeah," Y/N grinned.

The look on Hangman's face was pure disbelief. "What is going on? You and him?!?"

Bob glanced over at Y/N in confusion, not understanding what was happening here. "Bagman, the fact you can't believe Y/N would ever go for me is kinda insulting, really."

Jake scoffed as he shook his head in amusement, leaning against the counter to prop himself up. "It's a small world, Bobby." A mischievous grin appeared as he inquired, "How's it feel knowing we have dated the same girl? You should feel honoured."

Horror flashed across Bob's face. He shifted his gaze to his wife, who just shrugged. "College," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"College," Jake confirmed.

Now it was Bob's turn to ask, "You and him?!? Baby, I thought your standards were higher than that." He waved his hands in the general direction of Jake.

Y/N had to hold her laugh back. It was rare that Bob ever got jealous, but the fact that he was annoyed because he didn't think Jake was good enough for her was amusing.

"What? He was an older and more experienced handsome guy that, for some reason, took an interest in me, is that a crime?" she retorted, the humour evident in her voice.

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Now I'm feeling insulted," Jake added, pouting slightly as he rested his chin on top of his hands.

Chuckling, Y/N handed Bob some bottles from the counter and encouraged, "Come on, Phoenix is probably waiting on her drink," pushing him in the direction of the piano, only to look over her shoulder and offer, "Hey, wanna meet our son, Seresin?"

Hangman happily agreed, an attempt at being nonchalant attempting to pass his lips only to be replaced by an enthusiastic "Hell yeah."

Though it was tough to get Finley to notice anyone but Rooster, he did eventually meet Jake and was promptly lifted onto his shoulders to show off. "There we go, give me a lay of the land. See any babes that your uncle Jakey would be into?" Hangman cooed as he gently pushed Finley's chubby fingers away from his face and took them into his hands so he could hold onto them to move them rhythmically.

Wrapping her arms around Bob's neck, Y/N laughed at how he still had a slight pout, teasing, "Bo, my love, you're so cute when you're grumpy," and kissed his cheek, which prompted her husband to wrap his arm around her waist and hold her closer to him.

"Baby, I'm still caught up about the fact that you didn't tell me about you and Hangman," he whined.

"I did."

"No, you didn't. I think I would've remembered that, darlin'."

Smiling, she looked at the man she loved so much and rolled her eyes. "I've told you about Jake from college so many times," she explained and let her fingers tenderly brush through the hair at the nape of his neck.

She had. But hadn't put together that Jake from college was fucking Jake Seresin until that very moment.

"Hangman was the one who walked you to class every day?"

"Yeah, until he dropped out halfway through his last year because his mother was sick and he needed to take care of her." Y/N chuckled softly. "I don't know what he's done to make you think otherwise, but the Jake I knew, he was sweet and kind underneath all that frat boy shit."

Bob observed Jake and how he interacted with Finn. The little boy was tugging on Hangman's hair like Remmy with Linguini, each time he pulled the left strand, Jake would veer to the left and vice versa. It was rather cute to watch, and it made Bob realise that, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe Hangman wasn't so bad.

"Why'd you always have to be right?" Bob sighed, but let a small smile take over his face as he peppered her cheek with kisses, each longer than the last, until he finally pulled back and said, "Don't use that against me next time I'm all pouty."

Y/N hummed as she leant in close to him and gave him a soft peck on the lips. "Oh yeah? But I am always right," she murmured playfully, pulling back slowly until he was met with her stare.

"Course you are, honey," he whispered, running his finger along her chin and making sure their faces weren't too far apart, before leaning forward and capturing her lips once again in a kiss that was a little too passionate to happen in public.

They both pulled away when they heard Finn start babbling for attention. "What'd he say?" Hangman grinned.

"Wroo!" Finney shrieked excitedly, pointing at Rooster, who was in the process of talking to a beautiful lady but turned as soon as he was called and politely excused himself to take the boy from Jake's arms.

"That's going to become a problem," Bob joked, but there was truth to his words.

Just like his pa, Finley had a habit of fixating on things. Lego. Paw Patrol. Chocolate buttons. And now, Bradley Bradshaw.

Eventually, it became clear that his evening of meeting so many people began to tire Finley out as his eyes started to droop and his head dropped to rest against Rooster's chest. "I think you better get my BFF to bed," Brad whispered to Bob, earning a nod of agreement from him.

"Okay, bud, you tired?" Bob asked as he hoisted Finley up onto his hip. Finley nodded sleepily, holding onto Brad's shirt tightly. "Roo is going to stay here. Gonna have to say bye bye now. Say bye bye."

Sleepy babbles came out of his mouth with another muttered "Roo" as he very quickly fell asleep against his father's chest, snoring softly, and his tiny fists letting go of Rooster.

Then, after saying goodbye to everyone, the Floyd's were on their way home. The entire drive home, Bob found himself sliding his hand up and down Y/N's thigh as she drove. "Watch how high that hand is travelling, Bo. Our kid doesn't want to wake up to any funny business," she jeered, giving his hand a little squeeze and smiling when she saw his expression change to mock offence.

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything that wasn't PG, Y/N. I'm a sweet, innocent boy who's never done nothing wrong in my entire life. Besides," he leaned in close and whispered suggestively, "I want you all to myself, babe. No interruptions. I want all of your attention," before pulling back and flashing her a flirtatious smile as he sat back in his seat.

And Y/N couldn't help it, she burst into bashful laughter. It bubbled forth and flowed from her throat. There was no point trying to keep it hidden; she simply couldn't resist the urge to give into anything he wanted. After all, what was the harm in giving into the desire to be held and cherished by him?

They'd spent so long pretending they were purely platonic, and that was out of the window now. Being married really put all those feelings out there.

As soon as they got home, Bob carried Finley inside to tuck him into bed. "Night bud," he smiled fondly, kissing the boy on the forehead and turning to leave before announcing, "Love you, baby Bob."

With their child dealt with, Bob found his wife in their bedroom. When he entered, he stopped dead in his tracks and simply stared at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but her lacy lingerie, a smile playing across her pretty red lips as she teased, "You gonna stand there gawking at me all night?"

He shook his head to bring himself back to reality. "No...no. Just...wow..."

"You like? I bought it for tonight."

"Like? Darlin, I love it! God, you're gorgeous," he breathed out and moved towards her, kneeling between her legs so he could kiss at her thighs and then work his way upwards.

She reached to touch his hair, stroking it gently before caressing his cheek as she replied, "I thought you might. That's why I did it," and giggled when Bob groaned against her skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark on her inner thigh.

Pushing the leg that he wasn't paying attention to further into the mattress, Bob's lips trailed closer and closer to where she desperately wanted them to go. "Fuck," Y/N breathed as she felt his tongue lick her through the thin material of her underwear, just enough pressure to elicit a moan from deep within her chest.

The sound alone made him stop and pull back, beaming brightly at her as he admired her features. "What do you want me to do? Ask and I'll do it," his hands trailed to her hips and he leant upwards to whisper, "But only if you ask nicely."

Y/N nudged her nose against his and murmured, "You can do whatever you want to me tonight, baby. Whatever," and kissed his lips deeply. His hands travelled to undo her bra, allowing him to cup her bare breasts whilst his tongue worked its way into her mouth, stroking the soft sensitive flesh gently before biting her bottom lip, and causing her to whimper into the kiss.

Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he pulled herself upwards so that their bodies were flush against each other's, the feeling of his warm skin brushing her own sending shivers racing down her spine. She ran her nails across his back, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt relax under her touch and he groaned lowly in response.

Rather abruptly, he sat up, yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor where it landed on the heap of her discarded clothes, and patted his lap. "You're in that kind of mood, huh?" she commented, giving him a sweet kiss as she bent over knees and prepared herself for the spank she knew was coming her way.

Obviously, they couldn't make that much noise but the smack to her ass wasn't exactly quiet. Bob gently caressed her reddening skin directly after it happened, smirking as he noticed the way her breathing grew shallower, the way her eyes fluttered closed and the way she bit her lip so she wasn't too loud.

"You ever let Jake bend you over his knee and spank you?" he asked, more jealousy than he would've liked in his tone, and she merely chuckled lightly before rolling her eyes.

"...Robert."

"Sorry, sorry. I just can't wrap my head around it, that's all."

He rubbed gentle circles on her lower back as he waited for her to respond and soon, she craned her head back to look at him. Her lips curved into a smirk as she watched him, amused by how serious he looked. To apologise, he leant down and softly kissed her shoulder.

Yet, it didn't take long before his hand was drifting back down her butt. His fingers hooked around her panties and pulled them off to the side so he could run along her folds teasingly and slowly dip his middle finger inside her entrance. He pumped it in and out slowly, enjoying the way that she squirmed and writhed beneath him.

Bob took his time to tease her and watch her face closely. As her lips parted and eyes widened, he curled his finger in deeper and faster and cooed, "That good, hmm?" She moaned and nodded, gripping onto the covers beside her as his name rolled past her lips. "Oh yeah, baby? You like that, darlin'? Does it feel good?"

His voice sounded thick with lust and need as his other hand brushed some hair that had fallen across her face, pushing it back behind her ear before it was trailing down to grasp her breast. She gasped sharply when he dipped another finger inside her, the sensation so intense, she could feel sparks running up and down the length of her body.

"Don't you dare come till I tell you to, babe," he commanded in an authoritative tone that he only tended to use when he was in the sky. And she couldn't deny how that voice would send her further towards the edge every time he used it.

At the exact moment her legs began to shake, he withdrew his fingers and rested them against her ass cheek. "You're so mean, Bo," she whined playfully, pouting as her eyelids fluttered shut and her head dropped down to the duvet

Then he edged her again and again and again. Tears collected in the corner of her eyes as she gripped the sheets tightly, feeling so incredibly sensitive and needy. "Stand for me," he instructed, and she obliged without hesitation although she was a little wobbly because of the pleasure he caused her. "Good girl."

Before he got up to manoeuvre her into position, he tugged her hips towards him to kiss her across stomach and all over her pregnancy stretch marks. Nowhere in Bob's brain did he understand why she was a bit self conscious of them. Not only did they look like little lighting bolts, but it was a reminder of their son and how he'd been that bun in her oven.

"Beautiful," he said, pressing light kisses over one stretch mark and grinning proudly when her cheeks flushed pink before moving to cover another one. "God, I hope Finley has your looks when he grows up."

Y/N snorted. It was already very clear who he'd grow up to look like. "I doubt that. Maybe we'll have to make another one for that hope to come true," she beamed, tracing her forefinger down his cheek and gazing lovingly at his handsome face that seemed to get brighter with every word she spoke. "Maybe we should try for a girl."

Another kid? Bob felt like it was Christmas again. "Yeah?" he grinned at her and got even more excited when she nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bend over the side of the bed."

So, Y/N did as she was told and was rewarded with another spank as Bob stood behind her, his palm trailing up her thighs to rest on her waist as he removed the remainder of his clothes in a hurry, lined himself up with her entrance and gave himself a stroke before pushing inside of her.

"Ah, fuck," he groaned as Y/N's walls clenched around him, holding fast even though they'd barely started. "You can come as many times as you want to," he whispered breathlessly as he tried to calm himself down. "Let me just find my rhythm."

With how hard he'd riled her up, it didn't take long before she was gushing, her whole body writhing beneath him. Her cries rang out into the plush duvet as her legs trembled violently and she arched her back, but Bob didn't stop. He kept driving in and out of her, loving the muffled sounds she was making with each thrust.

"Good girl, you made such a big mess. Can you feel yourself dripping down your thighs?" Bob purred, leaning over to kiss the back of her shoulder as he continued to drive in and out of her while she shook beneath him.

Honestly, nobody had ever satisfied her like Bob had. He knew her and her body so deeply that it was easy for him to bring her complete bliss.

"It's a blessing really, all that slick on my cock makes it so easy - so, so easy - to fuck you right," he mumbled, nuzzling the side of her face and inhaling deeply, relishing in the feeling of having her wrapped around him completely. Y/N cried out in surprise as he pushed into her even deeper than he already had, the pressure overwhelming and making her lose all the brain cells she had once had.

And Bob knew that as soon as he asked, "Feel good, baby? Huh?" She answered with a whine that told him everything he needed. "Oh darlin, I've fucked you stupid already? That's got to be a record."

A low groan slipped past her lips as he stopped for a moment to shift her further onto the bed so that plant his knees on the duvet and pound into her with his front flush to her back. Every possible bit of his skin was touching hers as his body possessively held her down; his hands finding hers, holding them securely against the mattress as he continued to thrust into her.

"Sorry babe, I'll pay for some more," Bob grunted as he pulled back to rip her lace panties as they had begun to move around and it was annoying him to no end. Once they were gone and promptly thrown over his shoulder, Bob got back at it and teased, "Felt you clench, did that turn you on? It did, didn't it?"

She hummed in agreement, biting down on her lip so she wouldn't cry. The sound sent a spark through his veins, igniting the fire burning through his gut, causing him to become wild and impatient as he began to thrust hard, slamming into her harder and faster, losing control of his own body in pure primal hunger.

"Look at you," he cooed, smiling devilishly as he brought his hand to her neck and gently tilted her head to face him. She looked dazed and dumb, tears streaking down her face, her lips swollen and red from all the biting she'd done to them. Her hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead and he loved watching her in such a state.

He wanted nothing else in the world than seeing her look exactly how she did right then; beautiful, vulnerable and desperate for him to continue making her feel this wonderful. "You're so beautiful," he uttered between quick panting breaths, stroking her jaw with his fingertips. "All mine. All for me."

The words sent her into a frenzy, her breathing becoming short and fast and frantic. Her body tightened around him as waves of ecstasy washed over her. His movements quickened and soon, he found himself coming undone within her body. Panting loudly as he let out a moan of satisfaction, he buried his face into the crook of her neck and slumped on top of her.

His chest heaved and sweat coated his toned body as he held onto her tight, kissing his way along her collarbone and neck as he jolted along with the beat of his heart until his breathing calmed.

"Holy fuck... Oh fuck…" Y/N whimpered softly, still shuddering slightly under him and he chuckled to himself at how utterly adorable she looked as she tried to get her brain back online and regain some semblance of sanity. "I wasn't too loud, was I?"

"There were no knocks on the door, so I assume not," he answered, kissing down her neck and taking delight in the small gasp she let slip when he nibbled lightly on her skin. Her eyes were glazing over and her cheeks were flushed but there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips which pleased him greatly. "Wanna go again?"

"Give me a minute."

But when Bob rolled his hips once more, she was, once again, like putty in his hand, her mouth opening as she gasped for air.

"What if I can't wait that long?" He laughed as her legs twitched involuntarily underneath him and he got right up to her ear to whisper, "I'm not going to stop until this perfect pussy is filled to the brim with my cum."

It was going to be a long and draining night, that was sure.

In the morning, Y/N stretched to find that Bob was already out of bed. She threw on some clothes and, on achy legs, went in search of her husband. It didn't take long to find him and when she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she found him cooking breakfast in his underwear while Finley sat on the counter, talking to a very sleepy looking Rooster on facetime.

"Hey Rooster," she called out, making her presence known by all three boys.

"Roo!" Finn pointed to the phone and squealed happily when she picked him up off the counter and gave him a hug.

"You do realise he's going to do this every morning?"

From the other line, Brad chuckled. "Yeah, we might have to schedule a time that's a little later if I'm going to be honest." Then he caught a glimpse at a purple bruise on the side of Y/N's neck. "Jesus Bob, you really went for it, huh?"

Bob craned his head around to see what the hell Bradley was talking about, and immediately turned pink at the sight. "Sorry babe," he apologised, although he didn't really feel all that sorry, and gave her a quick kiss before moving back to the sausages he was frying.

"It looks as if you got in a fight with an octopus, Y/N."

"Maybe I did."

Sure, Bob didn't mind sharing information about his family with his coworkers, his sex life on the other hand, that was certainly off-limits. He reached out and happily squidged Y/N's hip as if he was mentally saying "Don't tell him any more or there will be consequences."

Who knows, maybe she'd like those consequences.

#bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob fucks #bob floyd #top gun maverick #Youtube

[opencommunion]

"We decided to come to this farm because we could not find any other place to go to," said Rafat Lukman, whose family of 32 includes newborns and small children. "We came here thinking that we can put up with it for a few days, but this war has taken much longer. I cannot believe that my own children are sleeping in cages where chickens slept. I look at them and my heart breaks for the childhood I am giving them. But what else could I do?" From inside the chicken cages, the children can easily spot the Egyptian-controlled Rafah border with its high walls covered with barbed wires. "My daughter took her teddy bear with her when we evacuated the first time. She'd kept it with her the whole time," Lukman said. "But the other day, it rained and the farm flooded. She was sleeping in the cage and her teddy fell into the rainwater and got lost. She cried so much about it the next day. And again, her mum and I felt so helpless. We can't even get her a new teddy bear." Lukman's children say they have become used to their new reality now and it is difficult to remember that one day they had a house and bedrooms. "We are still lucky that we are not dead and that our parents are alive," Rafat's 12-year-old daughter, Mais, said. "But to be honest, I still feel scared sleeping in the cages. They are very cold and dark at night. I have always hated insects, but they are everywhere here, and I cannot do anything about it." In central Gaza, meanwhile, displaced people have also been living in squalid conditions due to overcrowding in shelters - which include schools, hospitals and mosques - and lack of basic services, including clean water, sanitation and a working sewage system. Abu Ahmed Jaber, a father and grandfather, had been sheltering in a UN-run school and decided to go back to his house that was bombed one afternoon while the family was home having lunch.  "The situation in the schools is horrible. They are overcrowded. No toilets, no food, no water and no privacy whatsoever. So I decided to come back with my family to my bombed house and live in whatever space was left standing," Jaber told MEE. When Israel bombed his house, smoke engulfed the family, blackening the afternoon light. "We thought we were dead," Jaber said. The elderly man and his sons pulled out their pregnant sister and her one-year-old daughter from under the rubble with their bare hands. The family fled to a school for shelter, where his daughter bled for hours before an ambulance was able to make its way to them. Despite their traumatic experience, Jaber, who suffers from heart problems and diabetes, made the decision to return to their destroyed home in Bureij, in central Gaza, because he felt that all other alternatives lacked dignity. "This is my house. How can I let go of it? I literally built it with my hands stone by stone. I look at it 20 times a day and I struggle with the fact that I cannot even rebuild or fix anything," said Jaber, in a voice full of sorrow and anger. "I cry every night. I cannot even sleep anymore. If I fall asleep and wake up for any reason, I cannot fall back asleep. I am living a very primitive life amid the rubble, but I would rather do that than leave my house and evacuate from one place to another like chess pieces. And what for? What have I and my family done?" ... Palestinians in Gaza are living today what their grandparents lived over 70 years ago, and the fear of never being able to return is at the heart of their concern. "If the house is destroyed, the land is still there, and it is mine. I would rather die here than live another Nakba like my family did before me," Jaber said.

17 Feb 24

#palestine #palestinian testimonies

[cobaltperun]

Lost (15) - Sanctuary

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.8k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-When the rain starts to take its toll you can slow me down. 'Cause we both know that the world's turned cold and I just need you now-

There was a part of Tara that would never forgive Sam for dragging her out of the bodega and leaving you behind with Ghostface, despite Tara screaming her lungs out and trashing in Sam's hold.

"Tara, please!" Sam was begging her to cooperate, to leave you behind.

"No! No, please! Let me go! Y/N!" at this point Sam probably lifted her up several times just to stop her from getting out of Sam's hold. "Sam, I can't leave her!" she cried out, tears uncontrollably falling down her face.

"Y/N is strong, Tara! Please, I need to get you somewhere safe!" Sam argued, but how could Tara just let Sam take her.

"Something's wrong, Sam! Y/N said it! I need to help her!" her voice was getting hoarse from all the crying and screaming, but she didn't care.

Sam held her closer as Tara exhausted herself. "You can't help her! Tara, I can't lose you!"

Tara never apologized, she never said she didn't mean it when she accused you of being controlling and possessive. She never got to tell you how she wished she could take back everything she said during your argument. She never got to tell you how sorry she was for what she put you through over the past four months. She only got to reassure you she wasn't about to cheat. It wasn't enough. She never even got to tell you how no one would be able to do to her what you did, make her feel the way you did. She was yours, mind, body, and soul. "I need to tell her, Sam please, she doesn't know," she never told you how desperately she needs you in her life. How you've been the one and only person who never abandoned her, who stayed by her side no matter what she said or did. How she doesn't know how to live without you, and she can't even stand the idea of ever having to do so.

The sound of glass shattering stopped her trashing in Sam's arms and her tear-filled eyes widened when she saw you crashing through and landing on the harsh pavement with a loud thud. "Y/N!" her cry echoed and seeing you like that must have shocked Sam as well, because Tara finally managed to set herself free and run to you. It felt like she was a mile away, it felt like every step she took forward actually took her two steps back, even if the rational part of her brain told her she was getting closer to you. She saw you coughing, gasping for air as you turned over. She saw the way you struggled to get on your hands and knees as glass shards fell off your clothes.

Finally, she did reach you and she dropped to her knees, ignoring the glass beneath her. Tara touched your face, brought the side of your head to her chest, holding on to you as if her life depended on it. "Y/N," she whispered your name, trying to get you to look at her. You looked afraid and she couldn't do anything about it.

When you finally looked at Tara, she wished she could forget the next words you spoke. "I can't beat him," you whispered, as if you were trying to comprehend the meaning of your own words.

"It doesn't matter, we'll find a way," she reassured you while struggling to control her own fear. Who could beat him if you couldn't?

"Miss, do you need medical help?" Tara only now realized the police had arrived.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just catching my breath," you waved the officer off and got back to your feet, which also meant pulling Tara up to her feet as well. "Why did you come back?" you hugged her, lifting her up off the ground and pressing your face into the side of her neck.

"Why did you send me away?" she demanded, but still relaxed as you held her. It was moments like these that gave Tara the right to be needy and clingy with you. There was no one else who could get you to calm down the way she could, no one else could stop you from getting stuck in your head the way she could. The frantic gasps, shaky grasp on her, uncertainty and fear in your eyes, the shock of being defeated, it was all fading away with Tara in your arms.

"I'll beat him, somehow," you promised as firmly as you could given the circumstances and Tara nodded, accepting that there was likely no other way out of this.

"Y/N," Sam approached the two of you and, while you still held Tara, pulled both of you into a brief hug. Now that it was over, for now, Tara could reason that Sam was worried about you as well, but chose to focus on Tara's safety.

"I'll be fine, I just need to rest for a bit," you gently lowered Tara back down and patted Sam's shoulder. "Thanks for getting Tara out," Tara, despite occasional complaints, loved how protective you and Sam were, but right now, when being protective meant leaving you behind, she hated it.

Sam gave you a wry smile. "Let's not do that again, I can't take seeing Tara like that, Y/N," you raised an eyebrow and looked at Tara.

"Love?" surely you knew how broken Tara would be without you, right? How she'd feel if she lost you for any reason. Instead of saying anything Tara just pulled you down for a kiss hoping that would get the message across until you went back home. Judging by the way you pulled her closer you got the message.

~X~

Considering what happened, the first thing you did while you were on the way to the police station was to send a message on the group chats for each session at the gym, canceling training until further notice. The second thing was to pull Tara into your lap, hug her, and fall asleep the moment police officers left you in a room to wait for a detective.

The sleep and the warmth of Tara's body pressed against your own lessened the pain from all the hits you took. When you woke up the three of you were still alone, so you took a moment to think about the fight, well if that could even be considered a fight. Richie and Amber were ridiculously durable, tanking several of your hits. You wondered if there was some variation of placebo going on there, where putting that costume would make you believe you were invincible.

The mask would lower the impact, but there was something else. Whenever you hit the face he would sway to the side, temporarily delaying the impact and thus lowering the effectiveness of your punches. All your fights were available on the internet, but you doubted someone could just watch them and learn what to do without proper years-long training behind them.

An MMA fighter? Thomas? The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. He was supposedly on a vacation. That could have been a lie. But why? Just for fame? Him and you weren't even close. Revenge for his losses against Zack? No, he couldn’t have made the connection, could he?

A man came in, greeting the three of you and raising an eyebrow as he took in the way you and Tara were. "Dude, it's been a long night, just let us be," you said before he could even say anything. He just shrugged, setting several photos on the table. Soon after he did that another man came in, carrying a packed Ghostface mask.

"Detective Bailey, nice to meet you," he said as he sat down. You glanced at Sam and Tara, alarmed. "I know my daughter answered your ad online, I know it looks like one big coincidence, but I assure you, I'm just doing my job. I don't exactly get to choose which cases I work on," he explained right away.

"Sure, I guess," you shrugged, though there was no way you'd be lowering your guard just yet.

"This was found at the scene of the crime. DNA test shows it belonged to someone named Richie Kirsch. Does that ring a bell?" he asked.

"We are familiar with him," Sam nodded, sighing as she stared at the mask for a couple of moments.

"But the one that attacked us had a different mask on. It was kind of more beat up, like it was older," Tara told him

"Uh, I have to ask you, do you have alibis earlier tonight?" he continued the interrogation.

"I was at a party with my friends," Tara replied, leaning back into you slightly. With the way she brushed her fingers against the back of your hands, you thought she was probably remembering the argument you had.

"I was at work, Laurent MMA, then I went to pick up Sam and went home," you said.

"I was at my therapist's. I can give you his information so you can check if you want. Then I met up with Y/N, she drove me home, and then I went and met up with Tara at the party. Where I tased someone," that was a brand new information to you. "Unrelated."

The detective unlocked his phone and showed a video of Sam pushing a girl back. "Was that before or after this?"

The fuck did you miss tonight?

"Before," Sam replied.

"The point is, we were with people the whole night," Tara got the conversation back on track.

"Right, so, your driver's license was at the scene of the crime. If we assume someone planted it there then it would have to be someone close to you. How long have you known your friends?" you definitely didn't like the way he sounded when he said assume.

"Well, we moved here with Mindy and Chad like, six months ago for the summer semester. So, Ethan and Anika, both since then," Tara told him, she was taking the lead, answering the questions and you were more than happy to let her. Sam was being defensive, with her arms crossed and leaning back against the chair. You were trying to figure out if the detective was really on your side. You could play the 'dumb fighter' for a bit.

"Do you have anyone who might want to target you?" Bailey asked, so far nothing about his posture told you he was someone to be wary of.

There was a pause as Tara and Sam looked at one another. "Not anyone who's still alive."

Ooh, that sentence, the tone, the confidence Tara had when she said it. Damn.

"Yikes," Bailey winced at that.

One of the cops came in. "FBI's here, claiming jurisdiction," he said and thus, the interrogation was interrupted and you met Kirby Reed, you weren't at Woodsboro when she was involved with the killing spree of Ghostfaces that came before Amber and Richie, and after you moved to Woodsboro there simply wasn't a reason for you to know her.

A brief greeting and chat between Kirby and Bailey later one of the cops brought the mask to Bailey.

"He left this mask at the bodega. DNA traces of Charlie Walker are on it," Bailey revealed.

Kirby took the mask. "One of the Ghostface killers of 2011," she pulled up her sweater, revealing scars. "He gave me this. Like I said, I take a special interest. Is this the mask he was wearing when he attacked you?"

You shook your head, having gotten really close and personal with the man. "No," you said.

"So, he's leaving them on purpose," Bailey said and that got you to think about something rather peculiar.

This mask had Charlie's DNA, the one left at the crime scene had Richie's DNA. Where was the mask with Amber's DNA?

"Are we missing an attack?" you blurted out before you could reconsider how smart sharing your thoughts was.

"I'm sorry?" Kirby looked at you.

"The mask inside," you pointed your thumb back toward the interrogation room. "Belonged to Richie. This one is Charlie's. Where is Amber's? If whoever is doing this is going backward then this should have had Amber's DNA," you pointed at the mask in Kirby's hands.

"Unless there was an attack we don't know about," Kirby seemed to seriously consider your thoughts.

You suddenly had a really bad feeling, like you were missing something very important here. Like you were right there, so close to figuring something out, but it kept evading you.

"It doesn't matter. We're leaving," this time you and Sam agreed, and so did Tara. Last night you weren't sure Ghostface was after you again, but now there was no denying it.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible," Bailey's words stopped you and made you turn around. "You're all persons of interest in a double homicide, so you're not allowed to leave town. Sorry."

Well, fuck.

~X~

When you stepped outside you were met by way too many news reporters asking way too many questions as you and Sam shielded Tara from them and tried to move past the crowd.

"Gale Weathers, Channel 4," yeah, you couldn't ignore that. All three of you turned around to look at Gale. Last time you saw her you parted on good terms. Things weren't so nice between you now. "Do you ladies think you're the reason the Ghostface killer has come to the Big Apple?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh before throwing a punch toward Gale's face. Gale easily dodged it, it was too telegraphed, you'd have to give Sam another lesson soon.

"Nice try, sweetie. But, I've done this dance before," and then there was a beautiful punch.

A wonderful right hook with enough force put behind it to make Gale stumble back a bit. You were sure you had the most lovestruck look possible on your face as you carved the image of Tara after she threw that punch into your brain.

"Stay away from us," Tara left no room for debate and you couldn't do anything but follow after your girlfriend.

"Are you seriously still mad at me?" Gale demanded as she went after you.

Sam swiftly turned around. "You said you wouldn't write a book about what happened and then you wrote a book about what happened," Sam snapped.

"Oh, come on, someone was going to write about it," Gale defended herself.

"And it just had to be you. You were bound by duty or something," you rolled your eyes. The rumors about Sam didn't start with Gale's book, but it was certainly used as an argument once the rumors did start.

"After everything we went through together. What would Dewey think?" Sam didn't pull punches. She missed an actual one, but this one landed with a much greater impact.

"That's a low blow," you could see the shift in Gale's eyes, remorse, maybe even regret.

"So was your book. You called me 'unstable' and a 'born killer'," Sam reminded her.

"That's taken out of context," no it wasn't. You read it. It wasn't.

"That's literally a quote," Sam argued back.

"You don't think what you wrote has anything to do with what's happening to us?" Tara had enough of this. "Come on."

Gale wouldn't let you leave that easily though. "Hey, I talked to Sidney."

That got Tara and Sam to stop as you opened the doors of a cab. "She's not coming here, is she?" Tara sounded concerned. You understood, if it wasn't for Sidney placing that tracker on your car Sam would very likely be dead.

Gale shook her head. "No. She sends her love, but she's taking Mark and the kids someplace safe. She deserves to have her happy ending."

"On that much, we agree," Sam got in the car and you waited for Tara to get in.

"Hey! I want to catch this fucker as much as you do!" Gale tried one last time.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just afraid that without Ghostface in your life, you're gonna fade away," Tara just... you had no words.

'Damn, I'm so in love,' and probably a bit turned on right now.

~X~

Later that same day Tara remained by your side, while the others went out. You were probably missing out on Mindy's suspect talk, again. Still, this time Tara ended up switching positions with you. You slept with your head on Tara's chest as she gently ran her fingers through your hair. You looked so peaceful right now and even though she wanted to tell you so many things she just didn't have it in her to wake you up.

Eventually, your eyes fluttered open and you yawned a bit, making Tara swoon on the inside because of how adorable you looked to her right now. "Hey, Love," you mumbled, not really making any moves to get up.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, moving her hand down to gently scratch the back of your neck.

"Like a lamb," you let out a content sigh and stretched a bit. "Did you sleep at all?"

She didn't. She couldn't. She needed to stay alert and ready if anything happened while you were sleeping. "I couldn't," she wouldn't lie to you, though.

You, admittedly reluctantly, rolled off Tara and laid down on your back next to her before propping yourself up on your elbows. "Watching over me?"

"Watching over you," she smiled, already missing your warmth.

You stopped propping yourself up and just pulled a pillow beneath your head. Then, to raise your head just a bit higher, you placed your left forearm beneath your head. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" it was a rhetorical question, but it still made Tara devastated at the mere idea of you asking that.

So, she straddled you and looked right into your eyes. "More than you could imagine," your gaze was intense. "Y/N, I... I need to talk to you, about last night," it's been so long since she felt uncertain about something concerning you, but the dread of something possibly happening to you before she could tell you everything pushed her to talk. To just tell you everything in case anything happened to prevent her from doing so.

You, as attentive to her as always, softened up and reached out to gently rub her thigh with your free hand. "Yeah?" you whispered softly.

"You're not possessive, or controlling, you're definitely not anything like Amber," there, the first thing she needed to tell you, it came out rushed, but she said it. She licked her lips, for a moment wondering when did they get so dry.

You smiled, sitting up and pressing your forehead against Tara's. "I am a bit possessive and maybe even a bit controlling though," you said.

"I like it, you know?" she whispered back as she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Besides, it's more like desire and overprotectiveness," being slightly possessive was also her thing.

"Tell me more," if you only knew what were you doing to her with that tone. Your voice was low, a bit raspy, partly from recently waking up,

She kissed you, hard and desperate, she pressed her body against yours, doing everything she could to close the distance. "I'd never cheat, I swear Y/N. I'm yours. All yours," she breathed out, gasping when you began kissing her neck.

"Mine?" you asked with a hint of teasing in your tone.

"Yes. Yes," she assured you leaning her head back, relaxing further as you gently moved your hand up and down her back. She could feel the smirk against her neck when she shuddered under your touch. She thought she'd be used to this by now. Your touch still affected her, it still put her mind at ease, or drove her wild, depending on what you were doing. This time you wanted to do both and, damn, were you doing a great job at that. And it wasn’t helping that Tara was a tiny bit pent up, and if it wasn’t for another Ghostface crisis she would have taken things further right away.

"What else do you want to tell me?" you requested, persistent and gentle in the way you attempted to get her to open up. To get those words she was struggling with out. "Love, please talk to me," the uncertainty she felt gradually vanished, courtesy of your actions.

"You asked what you did to deserve me," she said, you remained silent, only nodding to confirm her statement. "That's my line, Y/N," your kisses all over her neck became a bit more than a ghost of your lips on her skin. "I was nine and a stranger offered to help me, when my own mother made me go to the shop on a bicycle I was three years too early to safely ride," she pushed against your shoulders, loving the way you just gave in and let her lie down on top of you. "I was almost ten when that same stranger carried me home in heavy rain when my mother wouldn't pick me up from school."

She kissed you, opening her mouth to let your tongue in. She moaned into the kiss as she felt your hands on her sides. "When Sam abandoned me and I argued with you, fearing you'd leave as well you stayed," she moved down, kissing your neck, biting as gently as she could while still leaving her mark on you. "Whenever I gave you a reason to leave you chose to stay, you chose to protect me, to keep me safe and I'm so sorry, Y/N," you didn't interrupt her, you just kissed her back when she once again, as frantic as she was, kissed your lips. "I'm sorry for causing trouble, for worrying you, for disappearing, for once again giving you the reasons to leave me just for a brief thrill and reassurance that you won't leave," because you always made sure to let her know, either by saying or doing something that proved it, that you were irrevocably and completely by her side and hers.

There, she said it all. She bared her heart and soul to you and she waited.

And then you spoke.

"You gave me a reason to keep living, then you gave me a reason to make the best life I can. It can’t be the best life if you aren't in it."

A/N: Well, this is moving. Thanks for reading. See you next time! Updated on 30.03.2024.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #scream #sam carpenter #jenna ortega x reader