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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

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sweet.

Steve x reader smut, 1.3k

foreword: u know that scene from Euphoria where Elliot makes out with Jules’ hand as if it was her pussy… anyways Steve Harrington take it away!!! 🎤 (dedicated to 🦊 anon thank u for your wisdom)

___

Sure, the drinking and the dancing is a good way to pass the time, but you’re partial to the end-of-night rituals you and Steve have settled into over the years. Your personal afterparty usually involves a shitty romcom, occasionally some weed, and always snacks both sweet and salty to soak up the alcohol.

Steve’s parents are out of town again, so the two of you are down in the basement den, passing a joint between fingers sticky with candy film.

From all your years of reading Steve’s body language you can tell he’s pretty high- feet planted on the ground but head lolling against the back of the couch, hands lax at his sides. There’s a dopey grin on his face- practically primed for a shitty joke or annoying comment- and you let the smoke out with a huff, asking on the exhale, “What?”

“You owe me five bucks.” Steve presses the side of his head into the couch, looking at you with red-rimmed eyes, still smiling.

You scoff, leaning in to pass the joint back and swiping a handful of gummy bears from the coffee table while you’re at it. “Since fucking when?”

“Since I bought this from Eddie.” Steve waves the weed for emphasis before taking another hit, smoke curling from his nostrils. “You’re matching me in pace, princess. This joint was ten bucks- ergo, you owe me five.”

You cackle despite yourself- “Ergo? You’ve been watching too many Perry Mason reruns.” You know Steve’s not actually gonna make you pay for the weed, he’s just trying to rile you up, and the fact that it’s not working is getting under his skin.

He shrugs a shoulder, just shy of pouting. “Point still stands.”

“Well, you shoulda let me buy from him. Eddie always gives me discounts. On account of these.” Here, you straighten your spine and gesture to your chest- after all the night’s activity, your boobs are practically spilling out of your bra and t-shirt combo, skin glowing in the muted TV’s light.

Steve blinks, clears his throat, and busies himself by ashing the joint into a spare candy wrapper. “Uh huh. Right. I’ll be sure to remember your tits the next time I’m talking to Munson.”

“At least someone will be thinking of them.” You mean it as a joke, but your voice is a bit too mournful to be taken lightly.

“Ah, and you’ve been picking such winners, recently,” Steve intones, dryly. The pillow launched at his head in your poor attempt to hit him is easily batted away. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve been going out with total losers. Aaron Conroy? Jamie Porter? Wouldn’t trust either of those guys to find their own dicks. Let alone your whole… business.”

Steve’s aborted gesture to the general area of your jeans makes you guffaw. “Oh, and you’re the reigning expert on girls’ business?”

“Sure am. King Steve, after all.” Said king juts an overeager thumb into his chest, winces, then gives his hand a little shake.

“Mmhm.” You slide across the couch cushions to take the joint again, knee knocking into Steve’s. “I’m pretty good at it too, y’know.”

Steve stares with wide eyes as you suck smoke into your lungs, blinking owlishly before stuttering- “You- you’re saying you’re pretty good at eating pu- at eating girls out?”

Another cackle looses from your chest along with the smoke, you can’t help it- Steve looks so properly shocked. “No, Steve, obviously I meant sucking dick. Not that I’d be opposed, per se, to a girl’s… business.”

The word drips in irony and Steve scrubs a hand down his face in irritation as you settle against the couch next to him, brushing shoulders as you continue. “Just aren’t enough girls in Hawkins to go for. Who are both out and not my friends,” you amend, before Robin can be dragged into the conversation against her will.

“You wouldn’t go down on a friend?” Steve fidgets a strip of paper Clark Bar wrapper between his fingers, crinkling quietly while he waits for your answer.

The weed has settled in your system now, a haze in your veins as you stub the roach out and leave it on the coffee table. You settle back into the couch, suddenly aware of every point of contact- thigh to thigh, arm to arm, shoulder to shoulder with Steve, who’s seemingly paused his breathing.

“Uhm. Yeah. I’d sleep with a friend,” you say, staring at your lap, empty hands twisting around themselves.

The tension of the moment swells, you can feel it in your chest, even as Steve draws in a breath to muse, “Wonder who’s better at it.”

“Eating girls out?” You look at him to confirm, feeling a pang when you see the lock of chestnut hair that’s flopped from its place to rest against his forehead. “I mean… probably you. Seeing as you’ve got the most experience.”

Steve smiles, lazily, tipping his head in acknowledgement, then says, “I could teach you. If you wanted.”

If Steve feels the way you stiffen in response to his words he doesn’t point it out, instead tossing the wrapper aside in favor of taking your hand into his. “Only if you wanted, though.”

You start nodding before the words can come; a shaky “Okay,” and Steve’s wrapping two warm palms around your right hand, manipulating your fingers into making a fist.

“I like to start with kissing,” he says, voice low, gaze fixed on your combined hands. “Y’know. To work her up, get her wet.”

It’s not even technically dirty talk, but the pitch of Steve’s words make your thighs clench involuntarily, seeking friction. Steve brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the base of your thumb, and your breath hitches.

“And then I… usually…” Steve trails off, and you can see the gears turning in his head at how best to teach. Apparently, he pegs you for a hands-on learner, because instead of words, he dips down to lick a stripe up the flat of your thumb.

Your mouth falls open as Steve licks deftly into the crease made by your thumb and index finger, curling the point of his tongue near the base again, your clit throbbing in response as if he was actually between your legs.

Steve makes out with your hand for what feels like hours, all sense of time warped by the heady weed. His mouth is warm and wet, saliva dripping through to your palm as he holds you in place despite your squirming.

What’s really turning you on is how into this Steve appears to be- his eyes are closed as if to savor the moment, brow pinched with pleasure, little noises from the back of his throat sending vibrations down your arm.

You fight the urge to sink your free hand into those silky brown locks; instead, your nails bite into soft skin as you clench a fist at your side, willing the subtle movement of your hips with each stroke of Steve’s tongue to stay subtle.

There’s an obscene squelching noise filling the otherwise quiet basement, and this seems to spur Steve on, suckling at your sensitive skin, heat coursing through your body as you gasp out, “Steve…”

He pulls off your hand with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting you both, his mouth a glistening half-moon in the low light before he swipes the back of his hand across it. “So. Yeah. Something like that. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.”

You fight with the hinge of your lower jaw to put it back in its place, breathing heavily as you wipe your slick-coated hand against the leg of your jeans. It leaves a wet patch- likely not the only one, if the heartbeat between your legs is any indication. “Probably the gummy bears.”

“Uh huh. You think you’re any better?” Steve’s got that easy grin back on his face, cheeks rosy, lips flushed with color, too.

A quick glance down confirms that he’s hard as a rock, sizeable outline of his cock visible through the denim, betraying the bravado in his stance.

Oh, you’re gonna wreck him.

With an easy grin of your own, you reach for Steve’s hand. “Dunno. Wanna find out?”

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington smut #18+ mdni

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charliemwrites · 6 months

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Girl rage, girl rage, girl rage!!

CW for Simon being a Jerk and a Creep, mentions of violence and murder, and kidnapping.

One time in high school, there was a boy that wouldn’t leave you alone. You gave him a million chances to knock it off, growing more and more hostile, snapping your teeth. The inappropriate touches in the hall, the lewd comments at lunch breaks, the fucking pictures. Nothing salacious, just long shots of you from afar, trying to go about your day.

One day he reached for your chest and you snapped two of his fingers. His parents wailed that you ruined his rugby career. You told them he should get better at football.

When you’re annoyed, you crack the knuckles of those same fingers on your own hand.

It’s the first thing you do when you wake up in a bare, grey basement, laid on a thin cot on the ground. Pop, pop. Recalibrating your foggy mind.

You don’t quite remember how you got here. Last clear thing is the bar. Doesn’t matter how you got here though, at least for the moment - just that you are here. And you don’t want to be.

You’re handcuffed, chain looped through an exposed pipe above your head. You clink it once, twice. Decide it’s fairly sturdy and take stock of everything else.

Your stomach is a bit tight with nausea - drug induced, you figure. Ugh. And your head aches, nothing a glass of water won’t fix.

But all your clothes are intact, no ache between your thighs or burgeoning bruises on your breasts. No shoes, though. Bummer, you liked those.

You crack the knuckles on your other hand; pop, pop.

You think of the scent of cheap whiskey, shattered glass, policemen wrapping you in a shock blanket. Remember your date chocking on his own vomit in a dark alley, then someone much bigger and stronger grabbing you as you tried to leave.

Hm.

The pipes are warm. You settle back against them and wait.

—

You don’t scream when Simon enters the basement. Don’t make a single peep. You shift against the pipes, tucking your feet under you as he approaches. Your eyes are so big, rounded as you peer up at him through your lashes.

“Such a smart girl,” he coos, “staying quiet for me. Or are you just that scared?”

You blink at him, the tiniest indent dimpling your bottom lip from your teeth. He crouches down in front of you, arms balanced on his knees. You’re curled up so small. He wants to bundle you in his lap, tuck you away.

“It’s alright, little one,” he soothes. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You twitch a bit, the metal cuffs clicking together. He flicks his eyes to them, sighs.

“Those are so that you don’t do something stupid,” he explains patiently. “Like you did earlier.”

A little furrow of confusion creases your brows. He exhales, amused despite himself. So precious, his girl. Like you can’t fathom why he would be upset with you.

“Going out with a strange man.”

He tuts, feels that black rage simmering again, same he felt when he realized you and that slime were no longer at the bar.

“He almost hurt you in that alley,” he reminds, “had he not been so drunk he tripped over his own fucking feet.”

He takes a second to breathe, fingers twitching. They feel too dry, too clean. He was so worried about getting you home that he had no time to bother taking care of that scum.

“I tried to let you have your fun, baby. I really did. But I can’t — I can’t anymore. The world is far too dangerous.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek, coos at the little shudder that runs through you. “And you’ve proven that you can’t take care of yourself.”

Your lips part. Shock, confusion, protest. It doesn’t matter, he’s more distracted feeling the soft give of your plush bottom lip beneath his thumb, bitten pink.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he soothes. “I’ll take care of you from now on.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dropping your head to your arm. He hums.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. This is for the best, I promise.”

You sniffle a bit, blink wet eyes open. Wet your lips with the tip of your pretty pink tongue.

“What… what do I call you?” you ask, voice soft and raspy.

Oh, such a sweet thing. Such a sweet, clever girl. You’re going to be so, so good for him.

“Just Ghost for now, luv. Let me get you some water, you’ve earned it.”

—

You exhale slow and soft, counting every fourth heartbeat. If you don’t, you’ll start trying to break things. The smart money is on your bones giving before that stupid pipe. So. Breathing it is.

You’ve never felt out of control in anger. Everything is always so sharp and clear, you think and move with a precision you usually can’t coax from mind or body.

This… Ghost, though.

It was a pleasant surprise that he didn’t realize what you did in the alley. Too dark, perhaps. Too quiet. Perhaps he thought you were fleeing in fear.

It’s an advantage you can’t squander. He’s much bigger than you, much stronger. Carries himself with posture and purpose reminiscent of military or former military bearing. There’s a physicality to the way he moves that echos violence.

You know that you will only get one proper shot to escape. There is no point wasting it on shouting and cursing and snarling. Even if he did only consider it bluster and bark, it would plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Make him careful and conscious of any slip ups.

Sometimes, rabid animals appear friendly or docile. The virus gets a new victim close enough to turn and bite, spreading and infecting.

You run your tongue over your teeth, imagine the taste of blood if you’d bitten through his thumb like you wanted to. Inhale and exhale again, start the counter over.

Pause to resist another sneeze, blinking past watery eyes and sniffling it away. Christ, he couldn’t have at least cleaned the basement before chaining you up down here? Could barely focus on his ridiculous monologue through the allergies.

Not that you think you missed much; and you’re sure you’ll be hearing it again.

He’s just like every other man you’ve ever killed, you muse, settling in again. And it’ll be so, so sweet watching the blood bloom.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #rabid reader #simon ghost riley #simon x reader #kidnapper ghost #ghost x reader

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gatitties · 6 months

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Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: forced to abandon your family and being spit out into a world of curses where everyone seems to gravitate towards you

─Warnings: a little angst¿ obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One

ok I had a burst of inspiration and I needed to write also need more platonic yanderes for jjk 😔 (I'll probably write another part because I left out many characters and villains… 😈)

SOMETIMES you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things.

You just wanted to help your parents with the family business, being a time of high demand in the hostelry sector, taking advantage of your school holidays, you loved your family very much and helping in the business was the least you could do.

But the moment a group of children come in screaming excitedly and running from one side to the other you lost your nerve, yes, they are kids celebrating a birthday, but so much activity, noise and annoyance made a vein swell on your forehead, you were reaching the limit, but at least there were only a couple of hours left to be able to close and surreptitiously remove the last people with brooms.

You swore you were losing years and hair, that the minutes passed slower and slower as if you were stuck in an endless hour.

"I think if you keep squeezing the tray like that you'll break it, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder, you turned to look at her, she was behind the bar, cleaning with a cloth while she glanced at you from time to time, she certainly knew how to detect when you were losing your temper, after all she saw you have many crises nervous before.

"Sorry, you know I can't stand so much movement and annoying noises, it's exhausting."

"Oh, I think you can go home if you want, you've done enough for today miss."

A new voice joined in, your father made way with a couple of plates, he left them on the bar to place his hands on your shoulders and rub circles on them, calming you with his touch, you smiled in agreement, your mood improving as you heard that you can go home once and for all, they wouldn't have much work at this hour.

"Don't forget the jacket love, it's already night and it's cold outside!"

"I know mom, bye, love you two!"

You shouted as you were already walking through the door, you waved to both of them before walking out onto the lonely streets, luckily your house wasn't too far from the family business. Without wasting time you grabbed your faithful life companions, your headphones, connecting them to your phone to listen to music at a ridiculously high volume. You let music be your final destination, if you ever suffer an accident, at least it'll be listen to something you like.

Moving your head slightly to the rhythm of the sound, looking at the ground as your legs moved on their own, knowing the way back by heart, you concentrated on drowning out the thoughts leaving your mind blank, it wasn't very difficult since you barely had enough active neurons at this time to have too deep thoughts.

"Huh?"

Some mist came out of your mouth when you felt something tiny cling to your leg, confused, you looked down with a blank look and an imperturbable face, you saw like a kind of fairy-bug, a strange thing was sticking to your leg, looking at you with eyes of a kicked dog. Oh yeah, you started seeing these kinds of creatures, monsters, whatever they are, a couple of months ago when you decided to walk into a 'witchcraft' shop just because a bracelet seemed cute to you.

When you wanted to question the old woman who sold it to you ─after checking that you hadn't spent too much time on the Internet to be hallucinating─ she was no longer there, as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, no one seemed to remember her except of you.

You grimaced, holding the little thing carefully, pushing it away from you as if you had just taken unidentified food out of the sink after having washed the dishes, without hesitation you threw it like it was a snot, you didn't even hear the squeal that came from it as it crashed to the ground because you hadn't turned the music down.

You continued your path, ignoring how more of those monsters began to appear, larger ones, with more or less human shapes, you didn't know if you had reached the point of emotional exhaustion that you no longer cared about those things, or you were so desensitized to certain things that you barely changed your expression.

"Help… help please… my son- oh- it burns…"

Your feet stopped suddenly, almost falling face first to the ground as you felt one of those monsters cling to your arm like an old woman crossing the street with a helper, looking at you with tears flowing down her cheeks, murmuring things you wouldn't understand if you weren't able to read lips, her hand went higher and higher, absorbing your body in a kind of wrestling-like lock-hug.

If you could you would pinch the bridge of your nose, you started to struggle with the woman, she started screaming the further you got away from her, you cursed silently when you couldn't get her off. This was it, the only thing that bothered you about seeing strange things was that they clung to you as if you were some kind of helper or salvation, you are not a saint, you are not a savior, you were nobody, but they kept coming to you like bees to pollen.

"Looks like you need some help"

You turned your head slowly, dramatizing the side eye you gave to that familiar voice, you heard by chance because of the song change and the small silence, but you could feel his presence for miles. Your frown deepened as you saw the albino look at you with a smile, oh, not only did you have to deal with these curses on your own, as if that were not enough, being one of the few people capable of perceiving these things certain people became interested in you. Sorcerers, it was funny, you didn't believe in magic until you saw this albino lunatic exorcise a curse in front of your eyes, even though you were somewhat skeptical, you refused to attend his institute, but they kept showing up to persuade.

"No, I can take care of this."

"Aw sure, go ahead then, I want to see how you do it."

This time you didn't listen to shit, but his shit eating smile told you everything you wanted to know, you started to struggle with the cursed woman again, it didn't work until you started talking to her. You found it was easier if you tried to give comforts to the poor cursed souls, and you had to do it reluctantly on these types of occasions, removing your headphones for greater concentration. You were terrible at comforting people, so it was like an uphill climb to get that curse to leave you alone.

"And that was ten minutes, you could have done it in twenty seconds if you knew how to use cursed energy."

"Just get lost, I already said no."

"We are offering you free knowledge, how can you refuse it?"

"Aren't public schools there for that?"

"There are no exorcization courses that I know of."

You rubbed your face desperately, you didn't want to learn sorcery, you didn't want to get in trouble, you didn't want to have to comfort anyone, you wanted your simple life, helping your parents, studying, getting a decent job. What kind of future would guarantee you knowing how to control that cursed energy? Clearly nothing good.

"I'm going to put it another way… you attract cursed energy, until now you have been lucky enough to find desperate souls in search of comfort, but what will happen when something much worse is stalking you? Something that seeks blood, your blood."

"Then I'll die, isn't it obvious?"

You raised your thumb with a sarcastic smile, you were too tired to continue a conversation, unfortunately Gojo's next words resonated in your head like a scratched record.

"What if they were your parents? They will not be safe by your side, as I said you attract bad energies."

A lump formed in your throat, letting a shaky breath escape your lips, he watched in silence as he had managed to hit your weak spot, your family, it was something you wouldn't change for the world, they were people who would die for you without a second thought, and just like them, you would give your life for them, they showered you with love and affection, the least you could do was protect them from your own problems.

As annoying as it was to give Gojo an affirmative answer, you had to swallow your pride for a greater reason, and just a week later you were already making the move. Covered as a kind of “Erasmus”, your parents were happy that you were going to explore and meet friends on your own, you wanted to tell them that you didn't want to go, that they would refuse to allow that decision, but that wasn't the case.

Then began what seemed like torture for you, as if you had fallen into a spider web and the more you struggled, the more you got caught in the webs. It was strange, everyone there seemed to have knowledge about who you were and where you came from while you were completely uninformed, it felt strange to be greeted so warmly by unknown people, inside you it was stressful to receive such a degree of attention, but you kept your expression unfazed.

You were like an extension of Megumi, only less expressive and definitely more stupid, you had no thoughts beyond your lost eyes staring into space, nothing made you flinch, nothing made you laugh, nothing made you have a hint of emotion that wasn't nervousness or tiredness. And yet the three first-year students, your classmates, could hear how you tried to drown out your nightly sobs, longing for your home and your family, how you secretly laughed lightly when you saw something stupid on your phone. Why didn't you want to share your emotions with them? Weren't they good enough for you?

You don't know what you triggered by strictly trying not to get emotionally close to people who from one day to the next could be in a grave, just because you couldn't stand it, just because you couldn't stand giving up more parts of your little heart to have them break later.

Itadori started to stick to you like a sticker, are you going for a walk? He needs to stretch his legs, do you want to laze around? He too! He is new to this world of curses like you, so he thinks it is better that you help each other in the face of complications and training. The first time he saw how a curse clung to you for comfort it almost gave him a seizure, he would never think he would be able to exorcise something so quickly, it worried him how used you were to being 'attacked' like that constantly and it only increased his worry, he needed to keep you safe from this dangerous world, it was a promise.

Megumi felt sorry, unlike him you had a normal and happy family, people to turn to, a little envious, he wasn't going to lie, but he tried to make you as comfortable as possible, maybe a little too paranoid about your well-being now that you were a novice unwilling to learn, he felt like he was your big brother, he wasn't going to take an eye off you even for a second, you could get hurt or worse and he had already experienced the bitter feeling.

Nobara was persistent that you open up to her, after all girls should be close, maybe she got too obsessed with that phrase when she watched suspiciously as Itadori dragged you to do something stupid ─against your will but without the energy of to refuse─ and you weren't going with her to have a snack or shopping, she felt a pang in her heart, what if she's not there and something happens? She doesn't trust anyone to take care of you, everyone is inept in her eyes.

Gojo proclaimed himself your fake father, no matter how hard he tried, he would in no way replace the real one, but if he wanted to play the family game you would let him if that made him happy. His attitude was the one that bothered you the most because it made you look like a helpless person at his side, he made you look like you needed him to take care of you. You accepted being the weakest link, but you could fight your own battles, especially after discovering some of your abilities, but he wouldn't allow it, you're too adorable to let go.

After some tests, missions and training, they discovered that your cursed energy acted like an antenna, attracting all curses that wanted to be forgiven or sought freedom. You were cursed with the 'gift' of forgiving and freeing from torture curses that wanted to cease to exist, and you acted as a peacemaker on some occasions. Luck was definitely not on your side or it was kicking you for having laughed at so many other people's sorrows on the internet, couldn't you punch? Kicks? Do voodoo? Summon shikigami? No, you had to pat and release cursed souls.

You didn't have enough suffocating attention from the sorcerers that you also had to have that from the curses. You were going to look for the old woman who cursed you the day you entered her store in another life and you were going to sacrifice her in the name of barbatos.

"Hey there you were! We're going out to dinner, are you coming?"

Nobara opened your door without knocking, you didn't stop looking at the ceiling while you lay motionless in your bed, you shook your head slowly in denial, you weren't in the mood, you were never in the mood.

"Don't talk nonsense, there is no way you can stay here alone, come on, come on! Gojo will pay for everyone."

Itadori entered immediately, pulling your wrist to drag you, you slid off the bed like a dead body, looking blankly at the boy who was giving you a puppy dog look, it wasn't that that made you accept, but if you didn't accept you would pass more time arguing with them in a useless way. You had learned to accept your destiny, you had learned to stay still in that web, maybe if you manage not to move you can free yourself, just maybe.

"I'm glad you decided to accept! It is good to have bonding time with your classmates and teacher, it encourages communication."

You nodded, looking absentmindedly at your phone, scrolling through the screen without looking at anything in particular but not wanting to have to look at the albino's expression, he knew you were going to accept, he knew you were going to go with them because they wouldn't give you any other option. He put his arm around your shoulders dragging you towards the car while he chattered things that went in one ear and out the other.

"Will you sit next to me?"

" No way, she will sit with me!"

And the tug of war began between Itadori and Nobara over who you would sit next to, too stubborn to 'share' if you sat in the middle, they would prefer to be the only ones next to you, Megumi on the other hand was the smartest when entering the first, if he sat in the middle he would assure him that you would sit next to him, however, absorbed in the discussion, they did not notice how you moved towards the passenger seat, end of the discussion and the headache, now you just had to rack your brain thinking about how to solve the fight next to who you would sit at while eating without giving anyone the benefit.

Sometimes you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things, now you had four caregivers but no concussion, for now.

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katiapostsss · 2 months

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DRABBLE:

flowers ( sam monroe )

enjoy! (i hate this)

〰️

love with sam monroe would be messy.

he wouldn't know immediately how to do it, as he grew up without much of it in actuality, but for you, he'd try.

he wouldn't know your favorite flower, but he'd study the way you'd study each and every carnation you passed, especially ones of pink and crimson shades. he wouldn't know what kind of candy you favored, but he'd note the way you'd eye every snickers bar in the sweets section of your favorite store. he wouldn't know if you liked receiving letters or not, but he'd acknowledge the way you'd always write them to friends and family for any special occasion.

no, he wouldn't be the best boyfriend. no, he wouldn't be good at love, but, at the same time, he's observant. heedful, as all the quiet ones are. he knows you just because he is, actually, just because he watches so carefully, he can read you like a book. what you want, when you want it, how you want it, why.

so a hard week you explained exasperatedly, in detail, to him late in the night, only half-drunk but fully out of it, was what led to this.

you had already had a bad day at school today, and not being able to find the spare key your parents always left aside for you, underneath the welcome mat, was not helping your case. grunting under the heavy weight of your backpack, you searched everywhere for it, the gutter, the watering pot... and after lifting the mat from the ground altogether, you finally found it, moved slightly from the spot you had left it in, which you'd worry more about if you weren't so damn tired.

swiping it up and pushing it into the lock, you threw open the door and kicked off your shoes, slinging your bag to the floor and nearly collapsing with it. forcing your feet up the steps, you pressed your palms to your eyes and rubbed there, as if to rub your exhaustion away, which was really no use. the good thing was, your parents were out of town for vacation so you had the entire house to yourself.

maybe i'll visit sam later. he was only a three minute drive away after all. then again, you were so tired. you wanted sleep. but you also wanted sam. at least, you wanted him to be with you. plopping on your empty bed, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and opened your messages, swiping to his contact.

come over please?

a moment later—

i've had a bad day

you knew he was coming without having to check his response, and when there was fumbling downstairs, 20 minutes later, you knew he was letting himself in with the spare key. you dragged yourself from half-slumber, rubbing the dregs of rest from your eyes and forcing yourself into a sit.

he was taking off his shoes when you began walking down the steps, and as the stairs were just by the entrance, you could already see his down-turned face. and the flowers in his hand.

"sam?" you spoke curiously as you walked off the last step, hands on the railing and opposite wall and eyes flicking from the bouquet to his face. he was just now turning to you, his relaxed stance shifting until he was slightly tense. you stopped before him, confused.

"are you alright?" he asked, his shoulders slightly bunching. the hand that held the flowers dropped an inch or two.

instead of answering his question, you reached out and lightly touched one of the many, pink petals, admiring the carnations. "sam, are these.. for..?"

"you said you had a bad day," he answered quickly, shrugging and retreating his hand slightly. "i just figured.. do you not..? like them..?" as soon as the words were spoken, your exhaustion dissipated. a smile spread across your face, and an overwhelming amount of happiness took the place of confusion. you looked up at him, searching his eyes. for what? you didn't know. they caught on yours. brimming with joy, you threw your arms around him, squishing the flowers between you and burying your face in his neck.

"of course i like them!"

it took him a moment, but soon, he relaxed and rubbed down your back. "are you alright?" he repeated.

but you were just so.. he hadn't done anything like this before, and you hadn't been dating for long. was this considered progress? pulling back, you took the flowers, grinning giddily down at them. "i'm— this is— thank you, yes, i'm okay. thank you, sam. oh my— how did you know—? these are my favorite! they're so pretty!" you rambled, squeezing them to your chest. when you looked up at him, you found his eyes, usually cold and blue, softened, slight red on his cheeks.

"guessed," he stated simply, even though he knew that was a lie. perhaps it was because he was much too prideful to admit he loved you to that measure, but that was probably not the case. maybe because he just wanted to enjoy the moment. maybe because he was too scared himself to come to that conclusion, that he watched you so carefully, because he loved you so deeply. either way, sam monroe wasn't the best boyfriend, but he knew you. and he used that to his advantage, always.

hey guys! this sucks but i barely have anything written for sam and last time i posted was a while ago so this is filler, love you ❤️

#sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x y/n #life as a house #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #fanfic #hayden #star wars #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #fandom #anakin fanfiction #katiapostsss #katiawrites

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miniwheat77 · 2 months

Text

Crimson. (Graves x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, stepcest, unprotected sex, choking, alcohol, drinking, no minors! NOT EDITED

Phillip gets drunk and mistakes you for your mom.

You weren’t super close with your mom or her new husband, but you had no choice.

You were going to college and since your rent had gotten raised, you had no choice but to stay with them. It was only for a year, until you were finished with school. You knew it wouldn’t be forever.

The first few months were alright, it was awkward because of course Phillip would try to play dad. He was a little overbearing and irritating considering your mom wasn’t a super active parent anyways. So when he wanted to have family dinners and wanted movie nights with the three of you, it got weird. Nevertheless, you put up with it. You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t your dad, that he didn’t have to try to do things your father never did. Sometimes when he was a little too harsh, your mom had to remind him that he wasn’t your dad and to take things easy because of how your dad had treated you before he left.

You noticed pretty quickly that something was up between your mom and him, and you figured out pretty quickly what was going on, that she was seeing someone else. You didn’t say anything to him because it’s not your business but even you’d caught her in lies about where she was going. She was gone on business trips all of the time, but her phone location never moved from the town you lived in. It was suspicious but he didn’t suspect anything, it wasn’t your business.

You only had a few months left and than you’d never have to deal with this again, you can do anything for a few months.

At least that’s what you try to tell yourself.

You’re sitting on the living room couch, resting your head on your hand and flipping through channels on the TV, trying to find something to watch. Your mom is out helping your grandma, or so she said. You called your grandma to ask how things were going.

She said your mom wasn’t with her.

It was funny that she was such a sloppy liar and Phillip never noticed. You didn’t know if he was oblivious or just plain stupid.

Phillip was out with his friends from work, he said he’d be out at the bar for a while and “not to wait up for him” not that you would but he was trying to be funny. He got a lot of eye rolls out of you, that was pretty much it. He tried really hard to make you laugh and see you smile but he never got it.

Your eyelids are getting heavy and the sound of TV starts to get drowned out until you hear keys rattling outside the door. You hear them hit the ground immediately after. A faint ‘shit’ coming from the other side of the door. You snort, standing up. You open up the door for him, seeing a smile on his lips. “Hey baby, sorry.” He’s slurring his words, clearly drunk. “Uh.. did.. did you drive home?” You ask him, trying to look passed him.

“No- course not honey, I’m not that dumb.” He laughs, pushing you back. You look confused as he’s touching you, why is he touching you?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get home so late.” He laughs. You try to create some distance between the two of you but he’s still pushing you back slightly. “Been thinking about you all night- missed you.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to push him back. “I think you’re drunk, maybe you should get some-“ a gasp leaves your lips as he forces you back onto the couch. “No, I mean I really missed you.” His smile is gone now, he’s nudging your cheek with his nose, forcing himself between your legs. “Wait- Phillip- I’m not“ he starts to attack your neck with kisses, nipping at your skin. Your lips part slightly and you want to push him off.

You really want to.

Your heart thumps in your chest, he reaches for the zipper on his jeans. Your words get caught in your throat. Why are you letting him do this? He grinds himself into you, sloppily kissing along your jaw.

He pushes your shorts to the side and before you can protest anymore, he’s inside of you.

His thrusts are sloppy and he’s a little rough. You don’t make much noise besides pants and whines. Never making another move to stop him even when you know you should. You know this is wrong. Before you can stop him, he’s finishing inside of you with a groan. He moves off of you, mumbling something else but you don’t catch it. He just barely gets his jeans back on before he’s passing out. You stare at him, lips parted, eyes wide. What the hell just happened?

You stand up, trying to create some distance between you. You just had sex with him. Your step dad.

You turn away, rushing up the stairs in a hurry. The burn of his skin on yours. The feel of him inside of you, it throws you into another world. You shouldn’t have liked it.

What’s wrong with you.

—

“I uh.. don’t remember much from last night. But I had a good time with you.” He smirks at your mom. She reaches for her keys. She laughs. “What are you talking about? I was at my moms house helping her clean things up. That’s why you went to the bar in the first place, remember?” She laughs, taking a drink of her coffee. He looks confused for just a second.

“Oh hey Y/N. Didn’t see you standing there.” She smiles. He freezes. It clicks in his brain what might’ve happened. Turning to look at you. He sees it in your eyes, seeing you avoid his eye contact. It only confirms his suspicions. “I have to go to class now.” You mumble, turning and hurrying away. “Have a good day honey.” Your mom calls. “I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” She says bye to him before leaving along with you. Fear courses through him. What the hell happened?

He has no choice but to wait for you to get out of class, deciding to watch tv on the couch. He’s eyeing his watch as the seconds tick by, it feels like forever. Every hour that passes, he’s looking at his watch.

Finally, he hears the handle being unlocked, you open up the door. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him and he stands up. You think of an excuse, you forgot what?

“Don’t.” He sighs. He can see you’re looking for an escape. You swallow hard.

He turns the tv off, tossing the remote down onto the couch and crosses his arms. You step inside, closing the door skeptically behind you.

“What happened last night?” He asks. He sees you swallow hard, avoiding his gaze. “I.. I was watching tv when you came home.” You stare off, fiddling with your backpack strings. “I think..” you gulp again. “Think you thought I was my mom.” Your voice is quiet.

“Did I…” he starts but stops himself, clenching his eyes shut.

“Did I force myself on you?” He takes a step toward you.

You swallow hard. Looking down. He did, but you made no effort to stop him, and you fucking liked it. You try to shake away the voice in your head. You feel guilty. His stomach falls at your silence. He doesn’t remember much but he remembers being inside of something… inside of you.

“Y/N.. I’m so sorry.” He breathes. He takes a step toward you, seeing the way you try to take a step back but the door is there. “I… how can I make this up to you? I.. I swear I would never hurt you like that. I was drunk.” He tries to plead with you. “I know.. I know you wouldn’t so just.. forget about it okay? It was a mistake, just… forget it.”

He sighs. How is he supposed to just forget about forcing himself on his step daughter?

You break away from the door and make your way for your room, he lets you go even though he knows he shouldn’t.

He returns to his spot on the couch and sighs. Putting his face in his hands. He closes his eyes and rests for a second, his mind moves at a mile a minute.

A memory breaks through the darkness, and he hears moans. The memories from the night before seeming to flood his mind. His hips thrusting into you, the squeals and whines you were letting out.

His eyes snap open and all at once he remembers everything.

He hesitates, feeling heat pool in his lower stomach. He glides his hand over his growing erection. He shouldn’t be feeling this way over you. He needs to just forget about it like you said.

—

It’s been weeks.

He’s tried to forget about it but around every corner, he’s craving what he felt with you. He’s been distant toward your mom but he doesn’t think she’s even noticed. She’s always been so busy with her job. He knows you still feel something. When he touches you by accident it sends chills up your spine, cheeks warming up and you’re drawing away from him in a hurry.

“Hey. So.. I was thinking.”

Your mom speaks up at dinner. “Since I’ll be gone for work this weekend, maybe the two of you should do something together.” You swallow hard, looking up from your plate at her. “Like what?”

She laughs. “Y/N, come on. At least try okay? And I don’t know. Maybe go to the movies or.. bowling or something.”

“Uh.. yeah. I’m sure we can find something to do.” He tries to laugh his nervousness off. He notices the way you seem to shut down, staring off into space as you try to finish your dinner. You’re thinking about it.

He’s thinking about it too.

You eventually excuse yourself from the table and it’s got him thinking, what on earth can the two of you do this weekend? Your mom will want pictures of course.

The moment she’s gone, that same heat is pooling in his groin. He thinks about you and how you felt around him, what little he remembers. He hates that he had you drunk, because now all he wants is you while sober. He’s frustrated. He goes to find you. It’s still early, you might not be awake just yet. He knocks at your door, to his surprise, you answer. You open the door but take a step back when you see it’s him. “Did you think anymore about what you want to do this weekend?” He asks. You shake your head. “I.. no. There’s not much to do here.” You avoid his gaze. He chews on his lip.

“I can take you shopping.”

You shake your head. “All my money is going into school right now, I can’t.”

He laughs. “Why would I invite you if I expected you to pay?”

“What? No- no. I don’t want you to do that.”

“I.. look. Just let me do it alright? As an apology.”

You freeze up. “That sounded so much worse than I intended it. I don’t want to buy your silence, I-“ he sighs. “It’s fine, but you don’t owe me anything.”

“Well.. let’s go find you some stuff for school, how about that?” You nod your head, agreeing with anything he says. “Alright- fine.” You nod. “Great, get dressed and than we’ll go.”

He disappears down the hallway, you close the door. You’re so frustrated.

He’s so caring and so handsome and your mom is out fucking around making a fool of herself when she’s got a guy like him at home. You’ve never met a bigger moron. You sigh, hurrying to get dressed, really you just want this over with.

You don’t know why you put makeup on, why you perfect it, or why you put nice clothes. It’s just your step-dad.

Who you already screwed once.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. Your brain is a fucking curse lately, it won’t let it go.

He was drunk, he wasn’t thinking right. That’s it.

You make your way downstairs, the nerves set in and your hands are sweaty. He’s got jeans on, a dark blue long sleeve shirt. It squeezes his form in the most perfect ways. What the hell were you thinking agreeing to this? He’s just finished tying his boots when you take a step off the bottom stair. “Ready?”

You nod your head. Still avoiding his gaze.

He leads you to his truck and you climb into the passenger seat.

His truck even smells like him and it’s clean inside. He’s fucking intoxicating. You want to scream at how perfect he seems. How the fuck is she doing this to him? You looked at her location just before you came down the stairs and she’s at his fucking house again.

You seem to curl into yourself, turning your knees toward your door.

“You know.. we’re going to have to talk about it at some point… right?” He mumbles. “Yeah, but let’s not do that today.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I’m not some fragile vase that’s gonna fall apart.”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

You snort.

“Y/N. Please. Just listen to me alright? I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like you took advantage of me, you were drunk. Just drop it.”

“Y/N, I forced myself on you, there’s not much of a difference there.”

You laugh. “Yeah, aside from the fact that I barely tried to stop you.”

The words have left your mouth before you can control it. Your eyes widen. “What?”

You stay quiet.

“I don’t think I… I don’t understand.” He breathes.

“I could’ve pushed you off of me. I could’ve fought harder. But I didn’t. I let you fuck me.”

His blood is running cold in his veins. You haven’t even left the driveway yet. He swallows hard at your admission. “I know it was wrong of me and I’m trying to forget about it. I don’t know what I was thinking. You came onto me and I didn’t know what to do.” He hasn’t even started his truck yet but he doesn’t think either of you are going to be making it to the store today. “Is that why you didn’t tell your mom?” He asks. “What? No.” You mumble. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because then she’d get to feel like the victim and she’s not innocent here either.” You don’t know why you’re going to tell him. You’re going to ruin their marriage and they’re both going to hate your guts but you can’t live like this anymore.

“What are you saying?”

“Phillip I know you’re not this dumb. She’s fucking someone else.” He freezes up.

He actually had no idea.

“When she says she’s going out of town or going to help my grandma out, she’s lying. I mean for fucks sake, she’s at his house right now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she’s lying. I have her location, you don’t?” He shakes his head. “Look.” You hand him your phone. He sees it, and what drives this entire situation home, is that he knows whose house it is. A coworker of hers. A guy. He laughs. He should care more than he does but he just doesn’t. He gives you your phone back. “I’m not gonna lie I expected you to be more sad.” He sits there for a second. He looks angry.

He starts the truck, throwing the column shifter into reverse. He throws his right arm up onto your headrest and spins around, looking out the back window and speeding out of the driveway. You hold onto the seat. He’s pissed. Once he’s out onto the road, he throws it into drive and speeds down the road. “What are you gonna do?”

He laughs. “Think you’ll find out soon enough.”

The house is only a couple blocks over and he reaches it quickly, pulling into the driveway, making sure to spin his tires in the gravel. Once he’s done that, it doesn’t take long for your mom and the man you assume she’s been sleeping with emerge out into the front porch. Phillip stands just to the left of his truck, arms crossed. He takes a couple steps forward and you climb out of the passenger seat too. Feet landing in the gravel. “So.. this is where you work?” Phillip laughs. Your mom is dead silent. “What are you guys doing here?” She’s clearly caught. “Ah, father daughter bonding. Maybe bowling. The movies. How to catch a cheater.” He swallows hard. “Y/N. Maybe you should go.” Your mom mumbles. “You shouldn’t see this.” Phillip laughs, shaking his head. “She’s fine, I’ll give her a ride when I’m done.”

“Phillip can we just talk? Alone?” Crocodile tears stream from her eyes. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt. Me and Y/N are going to find something to do. And I hope your stuff will be out of my house by the time we’re back. Y/N is more than welcome to stay with me until she’s done with school, but you and I are done.” He shakes his head. Climbing back into his truck. “Y/N. Are you going to go with him?” She asks in disbelief. You shake your head. “Being with my dad taught you nothing.” You mumble. She almost misses it. “Y/N.” She calls. You ignore her, climbing back into the truck as well. He pulls out of the driveway, heading back down the road.

When he pulls back into your house, you wait until he makes the first move. “You alright?”

He nods his head. “I’m great. Honestly, I haven’t been paying that much mind to anything with her since you’ve been around.” He chuckles.

“I thought you would take this harder.”

He shakes his head, surprised by the eye contact you’re finally making with him. “Nah, not gonna lie I haven’t thought about anything but that fucking pussy since I’ve been inside of it.”

Your lips part in surprise. “And I know I came inside you, tell me. Did you buy something for that? Hm?” You swallow hard. “I’m on something.” You mumble. Turning your head to the passenger window. “Yeah? Thought maybe since you’re a bad girl you went up to your room and fucked my cum deeper into that pussy.” You clench your eyes closed, why is he doing this? Is this his revenge?

“Cat got your tongue now? You’re not scared are you? I sure hope not.” He scoffs, laughing. “Didn’t even try to stop me.” He mumbles.

“Come here.”

You turn to look at him quickly. “What?”

“Sit in my lap.”

“No- I-“

He reaches across the center console, placing a hand on your thigh. “Fucking me isn’t going to help you get revenge.”

He laughs. “I don’t care about revenge. These last few weeks I’ve done nothing but regret what I did, I felt like a complete asshole for coming onto you like I did. But you liked it.” He clicks his tongue. He scoots all the way over and props himself up, grasping your hips and forcing you into his lap, straddling his legs. “And maybe now I won’t feel so guilty for wanting more…” he rakes your body with his eyes, slowly moving them up until he makes eye contact with you. “I don’t remember very much, but I remember how good you felt. How tight you were. Haven’t thought about anything else but you squirming while I give you more.” He grasps your hips and you can’t help it, moving them back and forth into him. The way he talks to you- it’s too much.

“I.. you’re not doing this with me just because you’re mad at her, right?” He can see that you’re nervous. “No sweetheart. Trust me, been holding myself back for a while now.” His voice is barely above a whisper. He reaches for his zipper once more, tugging his cock through the hole. He glides his hand up his cock, rubbing his thumb over the fat tip. You swallow hard.

He’s stone cold sober now, and you’re more nervous than ever.

Thank god his windows are tinted like this.

“You want to feel me?” He mumbles. His eyes are dark, full of lust. You mind your head. “Here.” He reaches for your pants, helping you get at least one leg out of them, tugging your panties to the side like he’d done to your shorts a couple weeks ago. “S’alright. Nothing to be nervous about.” He mumbles. Raising you up so that you could line him up with your entrance. “I know I didn’t treat you right before. Don’t think I even made you cum..” he laughs. “So selfish of me, I’ll make it up to you.” He leans in, attacking your neck. Feeling him on you, inside of you. You tilt your head back as you sink further and further down into him, until your thighs relax and give out as he fills you up. They shiver slightly but as he forces you to rock back and forth you sit up. You keep your head tilted back as you raise yourself up, then back down. Picking up the speed as you ride him.

“Oh fuck-“ he breathes. You clutch the seat, moving your hips back and forth on his. His eyes are dark and glossy as he watches you, you’re not looking at him so you don’t see the admiration he has for you, but it’s there. His eyes flash to your chest and he pushes your shirt up over your breasts, tugging your bra down and tugging one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it. You shake on him, the pleasure he’s giving you is unmatched. “Fuck.. oh fuck.” You whine. You’re panting above him. “Fuck baby, get in the back.” He mumbles.

You slide off of him and he groans out, you climb over the center console and into the back seat. He follows quickly. You lay back on the seat and he moves himself between your legs. Feeling him there again is foreign. Something you never saw happening ever again. He slides back inside of you, his cock parting your folds and filling you up.

He looks down at you, that same look in his eyes. You can’t deny the passion the both of you share. He grips your thighs as he starts thrusting inside of you at a bruising pace. “You look so good underneath me.” He breathes. He raises up one of your legs, lining kisses along your calf. You close your eyes relishing in the pleasure he’s giving you. Feeling chills rise on every inch of your skin. You never realized just how fit he was, he always tried to be modest around you. Always wearing a shirt and shorts while you’re around. His stomach is toned and his arms are big and muscular. No wonder he can move you with so much ease. You clench your eyes shut, panting out. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter, about to unravel. The closer you get, the more uncontrollable your moans become. He knows you’re almost there. Your thighs shiver as he fucks you, deep and hard. You didn’t know what you could be missing out on, but he’s showing you.

He glides his hand over your bare stomach, shirt still pulled up. “Such a good girl for me.” He growls. His hand moves further and further up, his hand resting on your throat. He rests it there but doesn’t put much pressure there. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. “Don’t freak out, m’gonna make you feel really good.” He applies pressure to your throat, and your eyes widen just slightly, apprehension apparent in your gaze. But you don’t stop him. You bring your hand up to rest on his wrist and look up at him. Your eyes are glossed over like his. He applies more and more pressure until you close your eyes. Skin flushing crimson. He applies just enough pressure, sending you somewhere else.

He lowers his other hand, thumbing your clit. Your lips part, and when you cum, your entire body shakes and convulses but he keeps his hand there. Cutting off your oxygen. Only when your high is ridden out does he let go, hearing you suck in a harsh breath of air. You’re panting, breathing in the air like it’s limited. One more thrust from him and he’s hissing out, hips bucking into you. You cry out at the overstimulation, but he relaxes his hips, resting his forehead on your chest. You look up at the ceiling of his truck, eyes wide. You have never cum that hard in your life.

He rests for a minute, regaining his breath and you do the same. You’ll for sure have bruises around your throat but you think you’ll like to see them the following day.

“Sorry if I was too rough.” He finally draws away from you. You blush, looking down. “No… no you weren’t I liked it.” You breathe.

“Still got the whole day ahead of us. Still got time to go to the mall.” He shrugs. A smile on his lips. “You don’t have to buy me stuff.”

He laughs. “You look like you haven’t had new shoes in ages Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

“You know you have no obligation like that to me.. you don’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t have to do anything, but I want to do this.”

“Can I at least get cleaned up first?” You blush. He shakes his head. “No. I like the thought of you walking around with my cum dripping down your legs.” He smirks.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble. “I’m kidding, yeah. I’ve got to get new locks anyways. I meant what I said though.” He stops you just as you’re about to get out of his truck. “I want you to stay here, with me. You just got used to me, no reason you should have to go and get used to some other guy, alright?” You nod your head. “Thank you Phillip.” You smile. He grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him, leaning into you. He presses his lips to yours, something he realizes he hasn’t done just yet.

When he finally lets you go, he watches you as you walk up the front porch.

He’s going to have to deal with your mom later, but that price is right for you. You’re a good girl and he can take good care of you, despite your age gap.

You’re his now. Wether your mom likes it or not.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #mw2 smut #phillip graves #graves x y/n #graves smut #graves cod #graves x reader

294 notes · View notes

rafeysbafey · 1 year

Text

⭒𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬⭒

⭒𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞

⭒𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐰𝐛𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐣𝐞𝐫𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

⭒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 𝟖𝟒𝟔

you curled your legs into your chest and laid on your side, wishing nothing more but for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

your period decided to grace its presence a week early this morning, red staining your new comforter and sharp pains carving your insides into shreds.

your phone pinged from beside you, followed by another.

groaning, you reached for the device before unlocking it.

message from: rafe

'want 2 cum over?'

you cringed at his wording that, any other day, would have made you laugh and make your way over. but all you wanted to do was, well, vomit.

message from: rafe

'u alive?'

how charming.

you tossed your phone across your bed and smushed your face into the pillow, screaming into the plush material as your stomach doubled into knots.

"yo."

your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a man's voice, rafe's voice.

there he was. standing in your room.

"r-rafe?" you mumbled, forcing yourself to sit up as you wiped the sleep from your eyes.

"how the hell did you get in here?"

"the window," he said in a 'matter of fact tone.'

rafe had snuck through your window multiple times in order to avoid your parents, but what he didn't know was that they were out of town for a couple days.

"why weren't you responding to my texts?" he asked, breaking the silence as you noticed him staring at your phone discarded to the side.

"rafe, i'm really not in the mood for your dick in me right now- so if you could so kindly leave-"

"since when did you not want to fuck?" he laughed, eyes squinting in disbelief as you groaned loudly, another cramp hitting your stomach like a truck.

"since blood decided to gush out of my lady parts this morning," you snapped.

rafe was always an ass, but you were not in the mood for bantering.

his eyes widened for a second before dropping, his pupils softening at now realizing your uncomfortable state.

"at least you aren't pregnant," he chuckled, nose scrunching as he shrugged his shoulders.

oh you could sock him right in the face.

"fuck off, rafe," you spat, throwing your pillow at his body but unfortunately he dogged it.

you gave him the finger before rolling over and yanking the covers over your body.

you heard him mumble something under his breath before leaving your room, this time through the door.

you would have cried from his reaction, hormones speaking, but your body was exhausted.

"wake up."

was that rafe, again?

"rafe, what did i say?" you groaned, rolling over dramatically and pulling the blanket down, "i don't want to have sex-"

now wasn't that a sight.

rafe cameron standing in your room with a grocery bag and heating pad.

"calm down, i come in peace," he says, placing the bag next to you before kicking off his shoes and moving to sit in front of you.

"is that chocolate?" you asked, taking out a bar before grabbing another. and another.

"i didn't know which one, so i got options," he raised his hands in defense, "didn't need you ripping my head off."

you couldn't help but laugh quietly, a smile forming on your lips as you mumbled a thank you.

"rom-com?" you asked, eyebrows raised as you inspected the DVD case you pulled from the bag.

he cleared his throat before scratching the back of his neck.

"you're the weirdo who enjoys them."

"hey!" you gasped, smacking him with the case before tossing it to the side.

"well this weirdo is about to watch this movie, so don't think you need to stay here hostage," you said, watching his eyes soften as he bit the inside of his mouth.

"i'll go heat up the heating pad."

you don’t know how you got into this situation.

cuddling with your fuck buddy—his arm wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together, your hands in a bowl of popcorn mixed with m&ms.

the corny rom-con played across the tv, rafe not paying much attention as he kept stealing glances at you.

“feeling better?” he asked, voice soft as he squeezed your waist.

you turned to look at him, a small smile on his face as he raised an eyebrow.

“not really,” you sighed, giving him a teasing smile as he hummed.

“really?” he asked, face only inches away from yours as his minty breath fanned over your lips.

before you could answer, rafe closed the gap to connect his soft lips with yours.

you’ve kissed rafe multiple times, granted it’s been during more intimate moments—but this time felt different.

he was slow, and caring. he was gentle with you.

his hand caressing the side of your face as if you were made of glass, the complete opposite of how he would in bed.

he pulled away for a second, blue eyes locking with yours—the only noise being the movie in the background.

“what about now?”

you bit your bottom lip, eyes closing for a second as you hummed…thinking.

“let’s try again.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader

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honeysimagines · 2 years

Text

home

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

plot: at a get together after the mission the dagger squad finds out some things about Rooster, causing Maverick to step up and try and help…

warnings: drinking, references to parental death and past trauma

notes: for K ♡︎, thank you for letting me bother you with this for weeks

words: 7k

It was a bittersweet evening at The Hard Deck but they tried to not let it show. After the successful mission it was time to dismantle their little ragtag group of pilots and for everybody to head back to their former assignments. Sadly Fritz had to fly out in the early afternoon but the rest of the pilots and backseaters had descended upon the bar and shuffled some tables around with Penny’s permission to make a large circle where everybody found a place for at least the next few hours.

It felt good to be back on solid ground. While being in the air was one of the best feelings in Rooster’s mind he was glad to be off the ship again. With the old jukebox playing music and the patrons of the bar talking and laughing together it was a little easier to forget about the events that happened just a few days prior.

“You guys are lucky,” Harvard pointed out after everybody except Bob was a few drinks in, “at least you guys get a few weeks leave.” The other aviators knew it wasn’t coming from a place of malice, had they been in the place of the aviators that didn’t fly the mission they’d probably think exactly the same way. Everybody craved the comfort of home while deployed.

“Yeah,” Omaha added, “Leave would be nice. I wish I could head home, see family. My sister had a baby months ago, never even met the kid and he’s already crawling.”

“Maybe Mav can put in a nice word with the commander. Make it so everybody can go home faster.” Rooster said after taking a drink of his beer, “Although with him there’s always a chance we’d end up shipped out overseas for a few months.”

A few nods and words of agreement greeted Maverick as he made his way back to the group after not so sneakily disappearing to the back of the bar with Penny earlier. At least he was smart enough to get a new beer so he could play it off as just getting another drink, even if none of the other aviators bought it. “What are we talking about?”

“Leave.”

The older man just took his place among his now former students, looking around. “That’s nice. What are everybody’s plans?”

Most of the others just answered with the basics. Going to see family, spending some time with their loved ones. Hangman wanted to use his time for a vacation and Rooster didn’t doubt that in a week there’d be pictures of Hangman’s abs at a beautiful tropical beach all over social media. At least that gave him time to prepare a witty joke he could send in the groupchat to roast the blond.

Realizing he was the only one of the lucky ones that hadn’t shared his plans, Rooster took another drink of his beer, finishing the bottle before putting it down on the table in front of him. “Don’t know yet. Probably going to spend some time catching up with Mav and after that head home to see the missus.”

Several heads whipped around to look at him with a speed that put fighter jets to shame. Rooster was sure he saw poor Bob get whipped in the face by Phoenix’ ponytail hard enough for his glasses to become crooked on his face.

“The what now?!” Multiple voices said loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons but the group skillfully avoided paying attention to them.

Hangman let out a fake cough to hide his reaction but he couldn’t hide the curiosity in his voice as he spoke. “Didn’t know you were married, Rooster.”

“Congrats.” Mavericks' voice tore him out of his thoughts about how Hangman had no reason to know his relationship status. His godfather looked at him with a certain sadness in his eyes that made Rooster mad for a split second before he reminded himself that they were working on mending their relationship and a missed wedding might have been another thing to add to the list of life events they didn’t share like they should have.

“I’m not married.” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what the two of you were. “It’s an… inside joke with an old friend.”

“Oh that’s-”

“I thought about asking her once but… yeah no I’m not married.” He rambled on, unable to stop himself, almost forgetting about his fellow pilots as he looked at Maverick and the way his eyebrows knit up in confusion.

The rest of the group just looked at him before Halo slapped her knees before standing up, signaling she was ready to leave.

“And that’s our cue. Come on boys, let’s give the Daggers some privacy. You coming with, Coyote?”

“Nah, I’m Hangman’s ride. Can’t leave him with the bunch. He’d just say something to piss them off and they’d leave him here.”

It wasn’t a tearful goodbye but hugs and handshakes were exchanged alongside promises to stay in touch. But almost as soon as Halo led Omaha, Yale, and Harvard away from the table all heads turned to Rooster again. Great.

“Alright, spill!” Phoenix ordered. Bob behind her enthusiastically nodded his head to back his pilot up.

“Guys, maybe that’s not-”

“Ignore Maverick. Spill Rooster!” Hangman interrupted.

Sighing he looked at his empty beer on the table in front of him and wished he had a full one in its place. Or maybe a tall soft drink glass full of whiskey neat.

“Here.” Mav pushed over the beer he picked up earlier, opened but still full.

“There’s not much to talk about.” He tried to defend himself. “She’s a friend. A good friend.”

That wasn’t enough to satisfy the lot in front of him though. Phoenix was motioning for him to continue and part of him wished it was just her he was talking too. She had always been a good friend. A good person to talk to when he had the need to talk. Even if they rarely had the chance to just sit down and chat due to the nature of their work.

“Lives in the old house.” He continued in a low voice, hearing his godfather inhale sharply next to him.

“I wasn’t ready to let it go but I- I couldn’t stay there. Not alone. Not after mom died. So when I left and she needed a place to stay I told her she could have it. Tried to pay me rent for years but I don’t take it. If she didn’t stay there it would be empty anyways so why waste a perfectly good house, you know. I go back every few months and she keeps my shit around.”

He just focused on the bottle in front of him, thumbing away at the label as the stares of his friends bore holes into him.

“That’s….nice.” The hesitant tone alone voided the words, he didn’t need to see the unsure face on top of it. He didn’t even want to imagine what the group was thinking of him at that moment. Revealing his tragic backstory in the middle of a bar.

“It’s not really home but it’s… it’s a homebase. Someplace to retreat to in case I’m back stateside.”

“And how long has this been going on?” Bob asked from behind Phoenix, confused, and Rooster was suddenly reminded of the years he had on them. Years because Mav held him back.

Years because he tried to protect you - a soft voice that sounded too much like his mother reminded him in the back of his head.

“Fifteen years? Give or take.” He mumbled.

“And how long have you been fucking her?” Three arms reached across the table to swat at Hangman for his question, Phoenix getting him in the arm hard enough for him to wince loudy.

“Fifteen years. Give or take.”

The only thing preventing an awkward moment of silence falling over the group was the fact that Fanboy choked on his beer hard enough that for the next few moments all the attention went to him, their group making sure that the WSO didn’t die. It didn’t prevent an awkward pause that followed after though. It was heavy, only interrupted by muffled coughing.

“Wasn’t expecting that to be completely honest.” Hangman said after everybody had mostly calmed down. When Rooster looked over to him he saw that the usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found on Hangman’s face and for the first time in his life he wished the other man would make fun of him. Look at him with something more than blank surprise or maybe thinly veiled pity.

“Fifteen years is a pretty long relationship to have, Rooster. Even if you’re not married, that's still impressive.” Coyote tried to be uplifting, smiling at him across the table.

“We’re not dating either. Told you she’s just a friend.”

“But you’re fucking?” Hangman asked.

“Whenever I go back. Unless she’s in a relationship at the time which hasn’t really happened yet because she doesn’t really date but most of the time, yeah.”

Across the table Payback raised his beer to him before taking a sip. “I mean… friends with benefits isn’t bad. Me and my wife started out as fuckbuddies before I grew the balls to ask her out for real.”

A few of the guys around the table nodded in agreement while Phoenix rolled her eyes hard enough that Rooster was worried they’d get stuck, but nobody added on to what Payback said.

Another few moments of silence followed before Bob spoke up, all eyes on the quiet WSO. “So let me get this straight. You and this woman have been on again off again fuckbuddies for the past fifteen years. She lives in your house. You nearly asked her to marry you….. and you still insist that she is just a friend?”

It came out rather harsh and nobody really knew how to react, least of all Rooster. Nodding, he took another drink of his beer, breaking eye contact with Bob.

Pushing his chair back from the table Bob moved to get up from their table. “Jesus fuck I need a drink.”

“Bob, you don’t drink.” Phoenix pushed her chair back too, quick to back up her backseater.

“I’m starting now.”

Six pairs of eyes watched as the two walked over to the bar but the men soon found themselves returning their attention back to the conversation.

“That’s a long time to pine over somebody, Rooster.” Fanboy chimed in, the pilots around the table nodding in agreement.

Before he could defend himself that he wasn’t pining, Hangman decided to speak up again.

“Jesus dude I know you like to wait things out but that’s long even for you.” Putting his arm around his shoulder he continued, “Gonna make your move when you get back? You’re a hero now Rooster, that gets the girls hot. No way she’ll say no.”

Without looking at the other man Rooster just shook off his arm, not taking his eyes off the bottle in front of him. Half the label was missing at this point but scratching at it kept his hands busy at least. “She’s just a friend, Bagman. Just a friend.”

Before any of the others could comment on it, Bob and Phoenix made their way back over to the group, letting themselves fall into the seats they had abandoned before. Their little comeback thankfully drew the attention to them and off Rooster, something he really appreciated. Judging by the way Bob was looking, his first drink didn’t go over all that smoothly.

“How’d he do Phoenix?” Mav teased.

“Went straight for the tequila. I tried to tell him he should start out with a beer but noooo.” She drew out the vowel, interrupted herself with a short giggle, before continuing, “Doubleshot of the cheapest tequila Penny had, didn’t even pull a face.” Phoenix bragged while giving Bob an encouraging pat on the back as he kept quiet. She turned to Hangman, sizing him up before adding. “You can ask Penny if you don’t believe me, Bagman.”

“Nah screw that.” Hangman replied, jumping up in his seat and leaning across the table to get closer to Bob, and Rooster was glad that they seemed to have found a new topic to latch onto. “First time and he went straight for the kill. Atta boy Bobby. Mister B.O.B.”

Most people around the table joined in with Hangman who continued to go on and on like usual while Rooster just went back to focusing on the bottle in front of him. He continued to thumb at the label, using the nail to push the paper back little by little. Almost everybody had stopped paying attention to him but he could feel Maverick’s gaze burn into the side of his head. He just hoped the older man would let it go.

Maverick did not let it go.

Two days after the night at The Hard Deck he was pounding on the door of Rooster’s room until he had no other choice but to roll out of bed. Stumbling his way to the door with half closed eyes he cursed as he walked straight into a table, a hand coming up to rub over his thigh while the other one pulled open his front door.

“What?” The words came out harder than he intended but the other man didn’t react, instead pushing past him into the room.

“Great, you’re up. Come on get dressed, we need to leave soon.”

“It’s like…” He picked up his phone from the nightstand, dropping it onto the bed after he saw the time. “6 in the goddamn morning. Why are you waking me up at 6am on my day off, Mav?”

“I want to show you something but we need to hit the road soon unless you want it to become an overnight trip. So go and get ready.” Maverick picked up a shirt he had thrown over a chair a day or two ago and threw it at Rooster, catching him off guard enough for it to hit him square in the face.

Knowing full well he couldn’t escape this trip Rooster just sighed and gathered his things so he could get ready. Hurrying through the process of getting ready until he was standing back in his room, silently looking at Mav while the older man looked at the pictures Rooster had taped up next to his bed.

Most of his memories were kept in his phone nowadays but he still liked to keep a few physical pictures with him on deployment. An old strip from a photobooth the two of you had squeezed yourself into, you perched on his lap with his arms wrapped around your middle while you made faces into the camera right next to the picture of his parents with their arms around each other. Maverick was focused on the third picture that was taped up though, their last family picture from before the accident. It had been hard to bend the picture in a way that properly hid Mav since they were all crowded together, Mom and Dad and Mav with little Rooster in the middle. He didn’t regret not tearing it apart in a fit of anger though. Instead he had taken it down after the mission, carefully straightened out the picture until Maverick was no longer hidden behind the back of the picture and next to them again, before putting it back up with their family reunited.

Rooster watched as he reached out and trailed a finger across the crease. It felt like he was interrupting a moment so he just stood still for a few more seconds, giving Maverick a little bit more time. When the other man turned around he didn’t seem surprised to see Rooster standing in the middle of his room though, a small smile growing on his face.

“Ready to go, kid?”

“Yeah.” He replied, waiting for Mav to bring up the pictures or where they were going but nothing came in response.

“Great.” Maverick stepped past him, hand coming up to give his shoulder a firm pat. “We’re taking your Bronco.”

It wasn’t until they were out of San Diego and making their way down a highway out east that Maverick opened up a little. He had been designated to the passenger side, left to peruse through the handful of cassette tapes in the glove box and play navigator while Rooster drove.

“Good selection.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Rooster could see the older man’s hands stopping once he came across a familiar mixtape, his own illegible handwriting staring back at him. He had played the tape over the years, knew the songs by heart even. But he still wasn’t able to read the writing. Your daddy had the nicest handwriting - his mother used to tell him - always filling out paperwork for Maverick. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood why his mother continued to do the same after his father’s death. A small act of kindness towards the poor soul that had to deal with Maverick Mitchell, saving at least a little bit of their sanity by shielding them from his terrible chicken scratch. Mav could write legibly when he cared, Rooster had a shoebox full of cards and letters at the old house that proved this, but he never really cared for paperwork.

Still focusing most of his attention on the road in front of them, Rooster saw the older man opening the case and carefully putting it into the correct slot on the old car. It took a moment for it to start but he smiled as the intro to Danger Zone began playing. Mav was nodding his head along the rhythm and Rooster could feel himself being overcome by some kind of nostalgic sorrow.

He was young when his father died. Too young. That wasn’t something he ever tried or was able to hide. But he tried his hardest to shield the ones around him from the full truth and maybe lie to himself a little. Nick Bradshaw had been a good man and he deserved to be remembered as such by his loved ones. Which just caused his limited memories of his dad to be all the more painful. No matter how hard Rooster tried to find new memories hidden away in a far corner of his brain he was stuck with a handful of amazing but painful ones.

It must have been mere days before the accident. His mom was somewhere, he didn’t quite know where, but his dad and his uncle Mav were with him. He remembered that the radio was blasting Danger Zone and that the adults had been singing along. They had all jumped across the room wildly and his uncle had picked him up only to collapse onto a couch or bench or something similar towards the end of the song.

After their falling out it had taken him years until he could listen to the song again without getting overwhelmed by emotions. But sitting here now, side by side with the man he tried to hate for years, all that heaviness he’d been carrying around with himself seemed to lift. It would never be like that one carefree summer afternoon in San Diego again but Rooster was certain that they could work towards mending their relationship again and he looked forward to it.

They had been driving for hours and Rooster was starting to get tired of the scenery. While he appreciated the desert as a beautiful place in theory after driving through it for a while it started to become too monotonous for him. They had stopped at a diner in a small town around eleven and eaten what would probably be considered brunch although there was a distinct lack of mimosas. He had filled the tank while Mav picked up some things from a nearby store and they were on the road again before noon.

“There’s a dirt road up ahead, on the left side. No street sign but you’ll see it.”

It was easy to follow his directions, pulling the Bronco into the street and making their way down the road. He could see a building up ahead, far enough removed from the main road to not be visible to passing cars but now that they were on the smaller dirt road Rooster was able to see that they were heading straight towards it.

An airplane hangar. Maverick had taken him to an airplane hangar. In the middle of the damn Mojave.

He slowed down the car once they got close enough, coming to a stop near the access doors but off to the side so he wouldn’t block the runway. If it involved Mav and a hangar there would definitely be planes around and he didn’t want to be in the way.

“Remember the thing you talked about last time at The Hard Deck?” Maverick said, hopping out of the car and Rooster had to suppress a laugh at the sight before he exited the Bronco too.

He watched as Maverick walked over to the middle of the hangar and raised his voice a little so that the older man could hear him even as he walked away. “What thing? I talked about a lot of things.”

“About the old house and it being your homebase.” Maverick was fiddling around with the chain that hung in the middle of the giant doors but Rooster couldn’t see what exactly he was doing, even as he walked closer.

“Well….” The chain rattled as it fell to the ground but Mav picked it up before giving each side of the heavy doors a push. “Welcome to my homebase.” Maverick said before slipping through the gap in the door and disappearing into the darkness.

Homebase. The stupid word echoed in his mind as he hesitated to follow the older man into the hangar. He had said that, hadn’t he? Downplayed the significance of you, your home… his home. Expressing his feelings had never been his strong suit but part of him didn’t regret his selfish choice of words. He trusted the daggers with his life but he didn’t want to share your relationship with them, not when he wasn’t sure of things himself.

He couldn’t bare himself to them in such a manner. Not when he still struggled to come to terms with things himself.

Trying to shake those thoughts he followed after Mav. The inside of the hangar was significantly darker than the outside even with the slight opening in the doors letting in light and his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could see but when they did he looked around the large space in awe.

Rooster knew that the older man had an affinity for all things speed -bikes and planes, even the occasional sports car- but looking around he was surprised by how many machines he could see. Just from a first glance he counted at least 15, half of which he somewhat remembered from his childhood, as well as an old P-51 and… random furniture placed in front of a trailer?

“What-” He started but didn’t finish his sentence. What would he even ask? What is this place? Homebase. Mav had already said that.

He looked around again, trying to find Maverick between the machines.

“Go sit down.”

He nearly jumped at the sound of Mav’s voice echoing through the hanger. He hadn’t seen or heard him coming at all.

“I��ll go get the bags from the car but you go sit. Or go look around. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch anything.”

The way he said it sounded like an adult warning a small child. Don’t touch anything, you could get hurt. And for a second Rooster thought about all the years he had spent with Maverick and his machines. How they had fixed up old bikes and Mav had patiently explained what every tiny screw does before ruffling his hair and telling him good job buddy for handing him a wrench. How he had helped Rooster get all his licenses from bikes to cars to planes and then let him take out some of the machines for joyrides or to impress girls at his high school. How he knew what he was doing and if he wanted to he could touch because he knew not to get hurt. Because he’s not a kid anymore. Because Mav taught him how not to get hurt.

But instead he kept quiet and looked around.

Rooster spent a while looking at the P-51. That thing must have cost a fortune even if it was old and Mav did the repairs himself. It was a gorgeous plane though and he hoped that he could convince his godfather to take him up with it soon.

The row of bikes felt so familiar it hurt but he still ran his fingers over the polished metal with care. All neatly lined up along the side of the hangar.

When he was younger Mav kept a locker covered in stickers in their garage. He still had the same locker now in the hangar and the collection of stickers had only grown. He used to go into the garage to look at them all the time when he was a child. Stickers of the different squadrons in all colors of the rainbow. He had them all memorized before he had memorized all 50 states. This one is where Ice flies -Maverick would point out- and this one is the squad that has to deal with Wolfman and Hollywood. They had gone through all the different symbols and pointed out when one of Mav’s friends flew with them.

As a kid he often wondered which squadron he would be assigned to, what insignia he would rep. He slowly raised a hand and ran his fingers over the Golden Warriors sticker at the side of the locker when something past the locker caught his eye.

Pictures upon pictures taped to the wall, familiar faces staring back at him. He could see pictures of Maverick and his parents as he stepped closer. Iceman. Their class at top gun.

Himself.

One of the pictures he knew. It was taken the day his high school baseball team had won a state championship and he remembered feeling like he was on top of the world. His mom had already been sick at that point but her prognosis had been good. Mav had been home from deployment and was able to bring his mom and together they had cheered loud enough that they could be heard across the entire pitch. Other teens would have felt embarrassed but Bradley had felt nothing but love. They had taken him out to eat afterwards and he had talked their ears off while stuffing his face with fries. His mother hadn’t even scolded him for talking with his mouth full. He had asked about the naval academy and if they had a baseball team and if Mav thought he should join. They’d all been so happy.

Not even a year later his mom was dead and Mav had pulled his papers and he had found himself on the other side of the continent completely alone.

Mav had another picture of him as well although he didn’t know where he got it. It was a newer one of him in his uniform, taken before the start of his last deployment. Ice, he answered his own unasked question. There was only one person that held enough rank and love for Maverick to get a hold of his picture.

He should have reached out sooner. If not to Mav then at least Iceman. Even in his stubbornness he had to admit that the late admiral had never treated him with anything but kindness and now it was too late to apologize.

“There you are.” Mav’s voice came from behind him and Rooster was proud that he didn’t flinch at the sudden noise. He had completely forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the hangar.

Instead of speaking immediately he took a deep breath and swallowed down his feelings. One step at a time. First he’d mend things with Mav for the future, then he’d ask for forgiveness for the past.

“Quite the collection you got here.” He said instead.

“Yeah?” He could see how the older man’s eyes lighted up at the mention of his machines. “I got more up here and a few more back there.” He turned around to point them out to Rooster, taking a few steps away from the side of the hangar.

“I’ve put the bikes on the backburner for a little bit to focus on the plane but as soon as I get it back up and running I have a few that need repairs. Maybe you could come and help me out a little. Like old times.” Mav smiled.

“That would be nice.”

He watched as Maverick walked over to the sitting area and followed. He disappeared into the trailer for a moment only to come out holding two bottles in his hands and gesturing for Rooster to sit. It was almost as if he had set up a little living room in the middle of the hangar. With an armchair and a couch, a small coffee table all on a big rug in front of the trailer. Wait…

“Mav do you fucking live here?”

Mav just gestured to the couch. “Sit down Bradley.”

It felt weird to be called Bradley again. For years he had only gone by Rooster or Bradshaw, building it up almost like a second identity or an armor. To him it felt like he had left Bradley behind years ago when he left home. Still, he sat down.

He looked at Mav.

Mav looked at him.

“Yes Bradley. I’ve been living in this hangar for the past few years while stationed at a nearby air base.” He finally said.

“In that trailer?”

Mav didn’t say anything, just nodded while looking at him.

He shifted a little where he sat on the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. “So you’re just all alone out here in the desert?”

“You know I’m used to being on my own, Bradley. No wife, no kids.”

Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.

He should have known that he would end up eating his words. No matter how much anger and distress he was feeling when he spoke them, no words were said without consequences and he was about to be faced with his.

He shifted in his seat again, still not meeting the older man’s eyes. “Mav, listen…”

“No. No.” Mav took a deep breath and let in out loud enough for him to hear it through the distance between them. “You were right.”

Another silence fell over them, this one weighing heavier on him than the ones before.

“I fear we’re a lot more similar than either of us would like to admit.”

It sounded less than a statement and more like a confession or maybe even a little bit of an apology. Like it pained Maverick to admit it and he had to force himself to say them. As if it had been a shortcoming on his end that had made them this way and not just the universe playing a cruel joke.

“There are… a lot of things we need to talk about and a lot of things I need to apologize for but not now. We have all the time in the world to talk things out but that’s not why I brought you here.”

“Then why did you?” His own voice sounded strange to him but he couldn’t figure out why. His thoughts were racing but at the same time his mind felt emptier than ever.

“I don’t want you to repeat the same mistakes I made.”

“Mav…”

“People like us belong in the sky and when something comes along to threaten that things turn ugly. You think there’s nothing worse than having that freedom taken away from you but there is. Because we can’t… we can’t stay up there forever, Bradley, no matter how hard we try. Once that’s taken away you have to look around and see what’s waiting for you on the ground. And when you see there’s nothing waiting for you… That’s scary, kid.”

Although he understood every word coming out of Maverick’s mouth he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“You’re allowed to put down roots without them chaining you to the ground. You’re allowed to build a home and a family without fear holding you back.”

And all of a sudden his words began to make sense.

No wife. No kids.

Just like him.

Somebody to mourn him if he burns in.

“I don’t think…”

“Don't think. Just do.”

That damn sentence had burrowed itself into his mind. Nested itself deep enough in his subconscious that there was no way he’d ever get rid of it again and Maverick repeating them now did nothing to soften the blow he felt.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Such a simple question. Such a simple answer. Yet it felt like he had to force himself to admit it. “Yes.”

“Then tell her.”

Sometimes home wasn’t a place but a person but there had to be some incredible luck involved for the two to overlap for him.

For years he had felt a certain type of sadness while driving up to his childhood home, reminiscing about all he’s lost, but as he pulled his Bronco into the little driveway all he could think about was what he was about to gain. His stomach was twisting and turning in anticipation.

Part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing, finally confessing to you. The friendship you had built over the span of more than one decade was too important and he didn’t want to mess it up. It had been easier when he was young and stupid and fell into bed with you the first time without consideration but now your time together weighted on him. He hesitated before exiting the car, mentally going over everything he wanted to say and repeating the words Mav had told him before sending him on his way.

She wouldn’t have waited fifteen years for you to get your act together if she wasn’t head over heels in love with you too.

Oh how he hoped that Maverick was right.

Taking one last deep breath he opened the door and got out, throwing it closed behind him. You had planted some new flowers in the front yard. Last time he had been here he was greeted by soft yellow flowers but now all he could see was a beautiful red. Granted it had been a few months since he last came by but he still felt a slight sting at the change. Not that it happened -he was glad that you actually felt at home in your house and comfortable enough to change the greenery- but the fact that he missed it. As he made his way towards the front door he thought about all the other things that could have changed since he saw you last. Did you get new pillows for the couch? Hung new pictures on the walls?

He had to search through his keys for a moment before he found the house key but as soon as he did he unlocked the door and stepped inside. There were noises coming from the tv in the living room and he had no problem imagining you curled up on the couch with a soft blanket and a mug held between your soft hands with one of your shows playing.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called out, hoping that you wouldn’t be able to hear the desperation in his voice and only the excitement.

Instead of a response he could only hear a crash coming from the living room and instantly became concerned. He couldn’t take more than two steps down the hallway though before you suddenly appeared at the other end of the small space. Messy hair and comfy clothes he didn’t have time to brace himself before you all but tackled him, clinging to his body while his arms came up to hold you up and against him.

Holding you in his arms again just made him feel so much more confident in his decision. His body still felt a little sore even a week after the mission but he’d never tell you out of fear that you would lessen your crushing embrace. The last thing he wanted right now was to be separated from you in any way. He could feel saying something against his shoulder but he couldn’t hear anything, the sound muffled by his shirt.

You must have realized that he wasn’t able to understand what you were saying because you pulled away a little so he could understand you better. “You’re home.” You almost whispered, voice airy and light and a big smile on your face. “Why are you home? You’re supposed to be overseas, why are you here? You always text me before you’re home or at least give me a call. Are you okay? What happened?”

He smiled as you took his hands between your hands, trying to see if he was hurt while rambling and he just couldn’t hold himself back any longer so he leaned down and finally, finally put his lips on yours in the softest, most loving kiss he could muster with the amount of desire running through his body. If he surprised you with his kiss you didn’t show it, instead your lips began to move against his, only for him to pull away once you try to deepen the kiss.

“I love you.”

The words didn’t feel foreign in his mouth even though it was the first time he said them for a long long time. He’s been running from his true feelings for as long as he could remember but now that he managed to spill them he couldn’t stop.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Realizing that he was still holding you up, he carefully lowered you down until there was solid ground underneath your feet. You looked so sweet just standing there and part of him just wanted to swoop you right up again. Instead he brought one of his hands up to cradle your face, carefully stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“Baby...” You started but stopped when his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

He could see your brows furrow in confusion so he continued.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared and it took me fifteen years to finally admit it but I love you. I love you and I’m not scared anymore and I’m yours… in any way that you’ll have me.” It was a blatant lie. He wasn’t just scared, he was absolutely terrified. Not just about his confession but also the future and the past and everything in between. But he needed to tell you how he felt so desperately.

Your hand touching his brought him back from his thoughts, cradling his hands while he cradled your face and a smile so wide he couldn’t focus.

When you spoke your voice was barely more than a whisper. “Oh you stupid man.”

For an awful drawn-out second he couldn’t breathe before your lips met his again and he felt whole again. Deepening the kiss all he could think about was how he was never letting go of you again.

Lieutenant Jakob Middlename Seresin enjoyed the simple things in life. A cold beer, a light breeze, and a beach full of attractive people were paradise on earth for him. After the recent mission all he wanted to do was lay back and relax before he had to head back out for deployment so when two of his old academy buddies talked about their new house in Hawai’i he invited himself to crash in their guest bedroom for two weeks and so far it had been nothing but pure bliss.

Taking a picture of his current view he sent it to his parents before pulling up the group chat Fanboy had made for everybody involved in the mission. He had missed about 50 messages but just from scrolling past them he picked up that Bob had sent a picture with his family and now everybody was roasting him for how out of character it seemed. Apparently there were flannel shirts and horses involved and Jake was just about to scroll back up to take a look himself so that he could join in the fun when a new message was sent to the group chat that caused him to drop his phone into the fine sand with a bitten off curse.

Rooster 🐓

getting hitched in vegas this wknd, be there or be square

txt Mav for details

Before he could fully process what he just read the chat was blowing up again. Text after texts came in expressing various degrees of excitement but Jake just read over Rooster’s text again before putting his phone away. With a sigh he brought his half-empty beer up to his lips and emptied the bottle before getting up to make his way back to the house.

It was only Wednesday so he still had a little time to enjoy his vacation before he had to head back to the mainland and he fully planned on enjoying it. He just needed to ask his friends where he could buy some gaudy Hawaiian shirts first. Maybe he’d even find some Vegas wedding appropriate ones.

He wouldn’t leave his wingman hanging.

#Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 8 months

Text

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin, part one.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

genre: vampire au

word count: 3,5k

warnings: smoking, assault, little bit gory

masterlist

playlist

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Stood up…again. That sickening and now very known feeling in the chest created another crack in your already shattered heart. You felt like a total fool. Why can’t you just get over the fact that maybe being a lover girl in this century wasn’t the right way to go. Oh, how much you wished to be more like your friend Mia. Just living in the moment, not worrying about the men and women you had in the past and only wondering who will be next.

Truth to the word is that love comes when you are least expecting it but you do overthink everything. Every occurrence with someone–hell even a stupid eye contact makes you think about the future you could have with a literal stranger. However you already set the bar low enough, it hit the ground a long time ago. Looks didn’t even matter anymore, if they just showed interest and knew how to act like a normal human being was enough for you. Your overthinking can do the rest but today it surely ‘did a good job’.

You met this guy just yesterday at the grocery shop, so romantic but you weren’t asked on a date like in forever so it was quite exciting. He wasn’t even that bad looking — short dirty blond hair, broad shoulders and fairly tall…The wandering eyes of his on your chubbier figure surely could be overlooked. It wasn’t like you hated your figure but seeing someone openly checking you out like that was a first and it made you feel wanted, so you went for it.

Well…it didn’t go as well as you thought it would as now you were sitting on a small bench in the middle of the night all by yourself. You shouldn’t have talk about him to your friend Mia, seeing that when you would talk about some potential love interest they would right after suddenly change their whole behavior, only leaving you feeling disappointed and embarrassed.

Date was at 6 p.m at this small Italian restaurant and by quarter to seven with no sight of your date and no text saying that he was running late, you learned that maybe your date was cancelled. At least the food and wine was good enough to hide your disappointment for awhile but after the third glass you felt like breaking down.

A 24 year old woman and no experience. Even the kids’ siblings you babysat had more experience with dating. You knew that by having no experience isn’t something to be ashamed of but you felt like you were missing out on life…

You took another drag of your cigarette, ignoring the coldness of the bench beneath you. You could at this point get a cat and become one of those rich cool aunts that traveled all around the world but reality hits you right there. No siblings, no parents and also being a hopeless romantic couldn’t help you become someone you knew you never will be.

You actually rarely felt sad about having no one from your own blood. As long as you could remember Mia was everything you had and needed and Mia’s parents gave you everything and more. You don’t even know how you became friends, all you knew was that you two have an unbreakable bond and couldn’t wish for anyone else.

You smiled at the thought of your friend. Maybe you don’t even need anyone but there was still a feeling like a piece of missing puzzle was somewhere out there to fulfill you. You shook your head and laughed at your own thought. Atleast no one was out at this hour, basking in the silence.

Seeing that you almost finished your cigarette, you stood up and dust of your white chiffon dress. If your friend saw you she would probably shoved that cancer stick right down your throat. You didn’t even smoked that much, a one cigarette after a while (a whole pack) can’t hurt nobody.

The starry night today was awfully pretty and made your attention shift to its dazzling beauty. Walking few steps, you leaned over the brick wall of of the bridge you walked your whole live on. This small stone bridge was built in Middle Ages and from that moment it connected the two sides of the town in one. Wrapping your lips around the cigarette, holding it between your pointer and index finger you watched as the smoke mixed in with the light fog of this cold spring evening.

Thanks to the alcohol, you didn’t even felt the cold seeping under the skirt of your dress that much. Last drag and then finally putting out the cigarette on the cold stone, you watched again how the smoke from your cherry colored lips danced through the night but suddenly your vision caught something way more interesting.

A man dressed in dark clothes was leaning against a stone railing few feet below her. You didn’t even know how you could see him because he was perfectly blending in with the darkness of the night. From where you were standing, you could make out that he had longer black hair, one side tuck behind his ear which was decorated by a small earring that twinkled in the moonlight. In his hands was a notebook, scribbling down something. You quickly learned that he was drawing the waters of the quiet river he softly lift his gaze to every now and then.

You lost yourself in his smooth movements and captivating beauty. Even by being far from this man, you could confidently say that he was one of the most beautiful creatures you have ever seen. His other hand caressed the paper like it was the soft skin of a lover, fingers decorated by multiple rings. You were in a trance, watching him draw, you could even hear the light scratching of his pencil against the page and then…a sudden movement of his makes your breath get stuck in your throat. As his gaze again went to the illuminated river, he suddenly tilted his head in your direction.

You were now met with a pair of blue eyes, so blindingly pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You were right…that man was beautiful. From his piercing eyes to his nose, strong jawline and perfect full red lips. He looked like an angel but by the look in his eyes, you felt like he was something completely different . He was dangerously beautiful.

Your heartbeat quickened as his glowing eyes slightly narrowed and then slowly trace over your features, just like yours did to him. You felt analyzed not only from the outside but also on the inside, almost waiting for his approval as he once again met your eyes in a burning stare that sent shivers down your spine. The look in his eyes changed. To what? You didn’t know but it made you feel uneasy.

His head turned suddenly to look behind him. Confused, you take a look in the same direction and after just a small moment of waiting, loud voices and laughter were heard as five men come up from the corner stumbling, they were certainly drunk. As you turn to glance back at the man, you were just openly gawking at you were only met with no one. It was like he wasn’t even there in the first place and you began thinking if maybe he was just fragment of your imagination after all.

Hearing and seeing the five men going closer, you decided to head back home. Turning on your heels, you began walking across the bridge to the other side. The streets were empty and it didn’t help that you lived quite far from where you were right now. A sudden feeling like you were being watched made you quickly look over your shoulder and learning that your were right about your theory.

Those same men were just few meters behind you and if you didn’t turn around, you wouldn’t know a thing because they suddenly became quiet, whispering to themself, their bickering blending into the light wind.

Your heart immediately sank, quickening your steps. ‘’Hey, you!’’ Echoes a voice from one of the men. You ignored it almost tripping from how fast you were now going. “Come on, pretty lady-‘’

Grabbing your bag in your hands, you fumble through it. “We just want to talk! And a girl shouldn’t be walking all alone in the middle of the night ya know..” Now the voices were too close to your liking. When you felt the pepper spray at the bottom of your bag, you grasped it and decided to do better and immediately take off running.

Your breathing become heavier as you heard sound of heavy footsteps from behind you. “Get back here!~” Today definitely couldn’t got any worse for you. Your ears ranged and legs screamed from your sudden burst of energy. Maybe this is a sign to work out more as you felt the irony taste in your mouth.

A sinister laughter echoed through the night making a small amount of tears well up in your eyes. You were too far from any house. Your feet hurt like hell and exhaustion slowly started to creep up to you, the cold air making you shiver as it kissed your reddened cheeks. Behind your blurry vision, you saw an open gate to a cemetery, quickly thinking of the risks you would have to make. It was dark and there was a chance hiding in the shadows…

Making a sharp turn to the left, you almost slipped through the open gate but a hand suddenly wrapped itself around your forearm tugging you to its owner. “Gotcha~” But before the man could finish, you turn your head away from him, spraying the contents of the pepper spray in to his eyes.

Screaming in pain, he let go of you, making you grasp the open side of the gate and smashing it into him making him tumble to the ground. You didn’t even look if there was a lock somewhere, seeing that the others weren’t that far from you and turning to run through the dark cemetery .

You tripped every step. You felt like one of those stupid girls in horror movies but it was so dark, you couldn’t see much of anything. When your line of vision caught a big gravestone, you cried up, there was no time to look for better hiding spot.

Falling onto your knees and squeezing yourself behind the big stone, you tried to calm down your racing heart and rigid breathing as it got eerily quiet. Pressing your upper back on the back of the gravestone, you pulled your legs up to your chest and prayed for your literal life. Your new dress was probably torn to shreds and dirty but you didn’t seem to care as your fear filled eyes stared into the darkness before you.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“She can’t be far.”

“Look over there and I will~”

A small quiet sob flew past your lips, making you cover your mouth with your hand. This couldn’t be happening right now. They should’ve lost interest by now. ‘God why me?’, you thought, pressing the palm of your hand painfully onto your lips.

You heard snapping of twigs quite far from you but you still didn’t have the courage and strength to take it as a chance to escape and run and there was still chance someone was near you as there were five of them. The moon shined from behind you, making shadows that seemed even more scarier now because of your situation. Maybe a ghost or something would be better than this.

As your gaze burned the ground below you an unexpected shadow appeared on the ground. Your heart immediately sank. “There you are, pretty girl.” Whispered the new comer, making you immediately spring to your feet into the opposite direction but you were only caught by arms of a second man.

“No!~” You screamed into the night accompanied with laughter by the others. Trashing in the arms of the man, you screamed for help more and more as your blurry vision caught the other three men making their way to you.

The grip that man had you in was bruising, making you cry out in pain. You can’t just stop fighting…so the next thing you did was stomping your foot down on to the man’s foot. You couldn’t be more happy of deciding the last minute to wear heels as his grip loosened when your heel pierced his foot. Shoving yourself away from him, you ran, dugging right under pairs of arms that tried to caught you but you still didn’t make it far.

One of them made you trip over your feet. Falling so unexpectedly, you didn’t even have time to register anything in the dark, making you fall head first on a corner of a gravestone. A small cry came from your, gripping your throbbing head in your hands as your ears rang. Feeling yourself being grabbed at made you a little bit wake up from the small unconsciousness, swinging your arms widely and trying to hit anything you could reach but they were only caught in a painful grip.

Crying loudly you tried to wiggle away as you felt yourself being laid back on to the cold ground. Two of them quickly catch your legs mid air as you tried to atleast kick one of them. “No please~” You plead, feeling so stupid for even trying as they only laughed at you.

The one left that wasn’t holding any of your limbs, loomed over you, looking like a predator looming over his helpless pray. It was the one you pepper sprayed. Watching him as he took out a switchblade knife from his pocket made you for a moment stop your loud crying. “Scream and I cut you.” He said while going to his knees right between your legs. This can’t be it…

“Fucking bitch.” He says dragging the knife up your leg lifting your skirt with the sharp point, making you trash around a little in hopes of being spared. Your head fell onto the ground. You didn’t want to look down and have chance of seeing your assaulters or even to the side and seeing his accomplices’ sickening grins. For a moment you could only feel the stars and moon looking down at you. Oh, how much you wished to be as far away as them right now, trying so hard to ignore the sound of belt unbuckling.

“What~” That unexpected question came from your side, making you look in wonder and immediately a scream gets stuck in your throat.

The first thing you saw was red. Blood so bright that even in the pitch darkness you could see it covering your dress and lower body. Your assaulter with the knife was now held by the head as their newcomer had their mouth attached to his neck, watching as warm, crimson blood flowed freely from where they were contacted. The unknown person growled that sound so animalistic that it made goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.

As the body of the man fell limply to the ground you could finally see your so called ‘hero’. Before you stood the same man you saw under the bridge. The one whose beauty struck you as a lightning but right now you felt everything but admiration towards this man. Another–new and now even more strong wave of fear run though you as you look upon him.

His beautiful icy blue eyes were now red, pulsing blue and purple veins underneath his lower eyelashes that went across his cheekbones and his lips painted from the blood of his victim, made him look nightmarish. The crimson liquid dripped from his lips down to his chin and chest, seeping into his expensive looking dress shirt. The moonshine lightened his slim silhouette and his wild look in his eyes made them all see what…who the real danger truly is.

Shaking out of your trance, you felt yourself being grabbed at not so strongly as before. One of those men that kept your legs down, spring at your savior. But as quickly as he stood up the creature of the night grabbed him harshly by his neck, pinning him down and baring his sharp teeth at him. You, seeing a way out, took it and you definitely weren’t alone as the now only three men took of running with you. You choose the left side with one of those men and the other two right and as you turn to look back at them, those same men were stopped as now they were met with someone new.

A shorter man with sandy blonde hair stood before them and you must say, he was equally as beautiful as the other one. You stood frozen in your spot as the stranger with cold, almost bored looking eyes shoved both of his hands into those two grown men’s chests like it was nothing. Loudly gasping, you shrieked as now the man held their hearts in the palms of his hands, their bodies now an empty box, falling by his feet. You didn’t know what to do other than watch, frozen in horror, so you didn’t even see coming the only one man left, pauncing at you and grabbing you swiftly from the back and pressing the cold knife to your throat.

“Don’t come near me you fucking freaks!” Yells the man in your ear, now having both of theirs attention. Even breathing made the knife cut lightly the delicate skin of your neck.

But by a blink of an eye you were free, immediately falling to the ground as your own legs gave up on you in the same moment. You heard a short scream, followed by the loud sound of bones snapping, making your skin crawl. Crawling desperately away, you stopped at a tree that now seemed like the most supporting thing in this situation as you curled yourself up next to it. You couldn’t run, you knew that would be stupid. You got yourself from a dangerous situation and now you were in even bigger one. Bringing your knees to your chest, you sobbed. Never have you felt so afraid and useless. There wasn’t even a chance…so you did the only think you could. Plead.

“Please, I won’t say anything…please~” You say not looking up.

One of them slowly walk up to you, stopping right before you. You held your breath, quieting your sobs for a moment and peeking from behind your fingers to look at the boots of the same man that ripped someone’s heart right from their chest just seconds ago. “What do you want to do with her?” Spoke the man, his voice so calm almost soothing but his question for sure didn’t made you feel more relaxed.

Breathing through your nose heavily, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to imagine yourself anywhere else. Response wasn’t heard as the man whose beauty you so admired walk up to his company.

If you would be watching you could’ve seen looks being exchange between them.

The sandy blonde haired man grabbed the other by his arm stopping him from going any further to you. “If Chan hears about this, I will make sure to throw you into the dungeons myself.” Only a small smirk was send back his way.

You felt your body go stiff as someone crunched down before you, softly bringing their hand to the side of your face. Their touch was cold as ice and if you weren’t already freezing you would surely jump away.

Their fingers softly traced your face, stopping at your chin and slowly lifting your head. The same blue eyes you saw from before were now staring right into yours, noticing the subtle ring of red around the iris. You felt yourself drowning again in his beauty and strangely your breathing calmed down. You and the man look upon each other for a moment. His cold touch felt more like burning but you didn’t have the heart to pull away as this was probably the softest touch you have ever felt. “Please…” You didn’t even know for what you were pleading anymore.

His other hand, the hand decorated with those beautiful rings went to the other side of your face, having no other choice but to look back into his alluring eyes. “You will forget everything that happened tonight.” He whispered, his voice velvety and delicious to your ears. “From the moment you saw me to this very moment and go home.”

Your tear filled eyes look into his, watching his pupils grow in size with his every word. Just as quickly as he said those words, he was gone by a blink of an eye. So was his company, even the bodies of your assaulters were nowhere left to be seen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, not wanting to spend anymore time at this creepy cemetery. You stoop up on your shaking legs, surprised seeing your bag sitting right by your feet. You forgot about even loosing it. Bending over and grabbing it, you walked the way home and recalling his words in your head again.

“Forget…” The only thing was that you didn’t, not knowing the consequences that will come because of it.

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author’s note

So this is actually my first ever fanfic on tumblr as you can see. So I hope you like it and I just wanted to say that even studying English my whole life it’s still not my mother language so I’m sorry for any errors you come across.

I used to write a lot on wattpad but I don’t make anymore stories but still if you want to, you can check them out on: @Audrey_Holland

Thank you for reading, can’t wait for you guys to read the next chapters.

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azrielslightintheshadows · 7 months

Text

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader.

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death.

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 4

Now you know. The shadows whispered in your ear and disappeared.

You didn’t know why they showed you this, it felt like invading Azriel’s privacy. Your heart broke as the image of the boy resurfaced, so young and thin. You shook your head and walked to the bathroom to wash yourself, the house had already changed the sheets.

After fixing yourself as much as you could you walked to the dining room and found Cassian, Nesta and Azriel there, they all looked at you when you entered, and Cassian smiled.

“Good morning” he said and turned back to his food.

“Good morning” you smiled and took a seat next to Azriel. You didn’t know why but you felt the need to be close to him, you couldn’t remember what happened last night, the only memory you had was walking into a bar and then Azriel placing you on the bed and leaving. Maybe it was the nightmare that made you feel this way. Azriel was surprised too yet he didn’t say anything nor moved away.

A plate of food appeared in front of you and you started eating.

“So y/n would you like to join us for training?” Nesta asked and you almost gasped, you didn’t expect her to be nice to you.

“I don’t want to be a burden, I have never fought in my life… I will just hold you back” you replied, your voice soft. Nesta snorted and shook her head.

“Nonsense, I hadn’t fought a day in my life when I started training too. At least come and watch and then you can make your decision” she shrugged.

“Okay” you nodded.

You glanced at Azriel who had an approving look on his face and instantly you felt proud of yourself.

After breakfast you went into your room and Nesta followed you. “Listen… I don’t really like you, we’ve all been through a lot and your appearance here is mocking us. You will never be able to understand the sacrifices we made and our trauma but as a female its my duty to help you become strong, confident and independent. Take the opportunity, you won’t regret it.”

You didn’t know how to feel about her statement, you admired her. Most females on your circle tried to destroy the others, it was one of the most successful ways to eliminate the threat and get married first. Nesta could see the gears in your head turning and that was enough for her, so she continued. “Lets find some proper clothes for training.”

She opened your closet and snorted when she saw the pink dress you wore the first day. “You should burn that thing, it’s hideous” she made a gagging noise and continued her search. You frowned and your mind went back to the day you bought it. That dress saved your life and even though it was ugly, it grounded you, it is the only thing that reminds you the past.

“I think these are okay” she said and threw a pair of leggings and a top on your bed. “Get dressed and come find us at the roof” and with that she left.

You picked the clothes and tried them on. The top reached your belly button and you felt exposed, your whole silhouette was on display, and you blushed as you saw yourself. Come on, everyone here wears this type of clothes. You can do this. You told yourself and with a deep shaky breath you left the room, hurrying off to the roof.

Cassian, Nesta, Azriel and two females were already there. The females had formed a line and Cassian stood in front of them, demonstrating some moves and then watching them repeat them, correcting them when needed. Azriel was behind the females correcting their stance and sometimes kicking their legs, making them lose balance.

“You should always be aware of your surroundings. Get up and correct your stance. Now.” He barked and moved to the next one.

Everything looked scary and painful, making you shiver. You gathered all your courage and walked outside, taking a seat on the bench in front of them.

“Hello y/n” Cassian smiled and moved to the side so you could see better. You waved at him, and your eyes fell on Azriel. He stood frozen behind the line, his eyes scanning your body. He licked his bottom lip and turned his attention to the females.

Your face burned and you made a mental note to dress like that more often. Then you frowned. He hates you and you should hate him too for the way he is treating you. Stop this. You reprimanded yourself and focused on the females.

They were moving with such grace, you felt like you were watching a choreography, their braids flowing around with every move they made, their muscles flexing their faces turning cold and then soft with a smile as Cassian shouted praises. You felt hypnotized and wondered if you could ever look this elegant with sweat running down your body. You thought about the females you used to admire, all living inside their pink bubble, only caring about their looks and lifestyle. The most successful female of your village had locked her sister in a cell when one lord visited their small cottage, so she didn’t have to compete. She managed to wed him but at a great cost. Her younger sister was afraid of the dark, when she threw her into the cell, she went mad and started banging her body on the wall, she cracked her skull and died. The older sister didn’t even cry and she pushed the funeral a few weeks later so she could prepare her wedding. Her sister’s body rotted in that cell, and she didn’t even care.

You glanced at the females here, they looked elegant and strong and successful. They didn’t care about males, they only cared about themselves. The looks they sent you filled with hope and encouragement in addition to what Nesta said earlier made your heart swell. They didn’t see each other as competition. No. They cared about other females, they wanted to help. You could fit here. These were the females you should admire, the females you could have as your role models and the thought made you smile, determination filling your body and making your blood boil. You got up and hurried off to your room, you opened the closet and picked the pink dress. You walked back outside and stared at Nesta. She stared back a smirk appearing on her face as she hurried off and came back outside with a candle in her hand. She offered it to you, and you threw the dress on the ground, lighting it up on fire and watching it burn. Nesta looked at you with pride and she clapped.

“Welcome to the real world princess” she smiled.

You glanced around and noticed the other females, they were clapping too, Cassian let out a low whistle and Azriel grinned. Your heart melted and you let out a giggle, your eyes filling with tears as you whispered, “Thank you”.

You weren’t thanking them for their applause, you were thanking them for supporting you, for opening your eyes and showing you that its okay to be strong and independent. And as you stood on that roof, proud of yourself and ready to take the wheel of your life, your gaze fell onto Azriel, and the bond snapped.

Your smile turned into a frown and your whole body shuddered. No, no, no. I just decided to take control of my life, I can’t be bound to a male. You thought and stared at him wide-eyed. Azriel noticed your expression and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” Nesta asked.

“Yes, just lost in the emotion.” You smiled.

“Okay I think we had enough for today. Tomorrow we will start our training at the same time, I’m guessing you will be joining us y/n” Cassian boomed. You nodded and smiled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in your room, trying to do the moves you saw them doing earlier, you wanted to be prepared for training tomorrow. You were interrupted by a knock on your door, you could feel Azriel through the bond, so you stayed silent hoping he would go away.

“I know you’re in there” he shouted. You sat on your bed without replying. One of his shadows slithered down the door and shoot up, turning the lock and opening the door. You cursed under your breath and got up.

Azriel strolled into the room with a soft expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, everything is fine” you replied. “Fine my ass” he snarled “you felt it snap”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you whispered taking a step back. The cold expression returned on his face as he growled;

“Fine, its better this way. The Cauldron was wrong, I can’t have a weak female in my life. I showed you the city like Rhysand asked now don’t fucking come near me again unless its during training” the way his tone changed when he said training made shivers run down your spine. His voice was filled with painful promises and as he left your room you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic grin that appeared on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat and fear mixed with excitement filled your senses, the sting of his words long forgotten as you thought about training with him. You wouldn't let him treat you like that again, if you could manage that then you could do everything. I'm going to blow your mind shadowsinger. You thought and smirked.

I hope you enjoy this part, from now on the series will focus on female power so if you are here just for romance you shouldn't waste your time on this.

@glitterypirateduck , @zara-aliza08 , @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore , @pinksmellslikelove , @bunnyredgirl , @lectoracronica , @tuggboatfishin , @sunnysideup000 , @blessthepizzaman , @universevsd , @raisinggray , @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum , @justasillylittlegoofyguy , @tsunami-of-tears , @just-a-social-casualty-1 , @thelov3lybookworm

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lulublack90 · 2 months

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Prompt 13 - Ski

@jegulus-microfic April 13, Word count 996

James could not Ski. He’d tried for years. His parents took him every year, but he just didn’t have the balance for it. Even now, at 25, he stayed on the easiest slopes. He watched 8-year-olds surpass him. But even though he was hopeless, he absolutely loved it. The mountains were so beautiful, the air crisp and cold, and the evening wood fires with fresh hot chocolate were to die for.

One morning, he took the chair lift to the top with his parents, fully intending to take it back down again once he’d taken in the view. But of course. James accident-prone Potter, did not go back down the way he meant to.

James began to slide backwards without noticing. It was only when, with a puzzled look on his face, he wondered why the trees he was looking at were getting shorter. Did he begin to panic.

His eyes went wide with horror as he hurtled backwards down the slope. Somehow, he doesn’t quite know how he managed to turn around, so he was at least facing the right way. He started yelling. He’d definitely been happier facing the other way.

He tried to bring up every lesson he’d ever learnt about Skiing. He managed to slow himself enough to control his descent. That was until the skier clad in a skin-tight black and white snowsuit caught his attention.

It was as though his skis were attracted to the skier. They turned towards him, and James lost all control.

“LOOK OUT!!!!” He screamed. The man turned in time to watch James smack into him. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of skis, poles and limbs.

“What the hell are you playing at?” The other man shouted at him, his cheeks red with anger. James looked at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. I lost control of my skis and couldn’t stop.”

“If you can’t control yourself, you shouldn’t be on this slope. You should be down with the children.” The man sneered at him. James nodded profusely.

“Yes. Yes, that’s where I normally am, but I accidentally came down this one.”

“How on earth did you manage that?” The man asked interestedly.

“I came up with my parents and meant to take the lift back down. But, while I was looking at the view. I kind of started sliding backwards, and by the time I realised it was too late.” He flushed with embarrassment.

“How did you not realise you were moving?”

“The view was pretty.” He shrugged. The man laughed at him. He tried to stand and hissed when he put weight on his ankle.

“Damn it.” He tried again and quickly stopped. “Ouch.” He whined. James stood up and was thankfully unharmed. He looked around. They were nearly at the bottom. He could see the bar from here.

He set his skis in front of him and bent to gather the man’s skis and both sets of poles.

“Here, hold these.” He told the man as he slipped his hand under him and scooped him into his arms.

“Ahhhh! What are you doing?” The man panicked.

“I’m going to get you back down so you can see a doctor.” He didn’t wait for the man to argue. He stood into his skis and set off. Maybe it was the determination to get this man off the slopes, or maybe something had finally clicked, but James skied down the rest of the mountain like a pro.

He stopped at the bottom, released his feet from his skis and carried the man into the hotel.

“Hey, can someone get a doctor here? He’s hurt his ankle.” James deposited him on the lobby sofa as gently as possible. “I really am sorry.” He apologised again. “Can I get you anything?” The man shook his head. James hovered awkwardly next to the sofa.

“Oh, for crying out loud, just sit down.” The man snapped. James flung himself on the sofa in panic. “Ouch! Watch the ankle!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” James’s hands fluttered uselessly over his ankle.

“I’m Regulus since you asked,” Regulus told him.

“Oh-er. James, James Potter.” James held out his hand.

“It was a pleasure to be almost crushed by you, James.” He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“I really am sorry.” James dropped his head, staring at his boots.

“Did someone ask for a doctor?” A tall, lanky man asked them.

“Yes, Regulus here had an accident while we were skiing,” James told the doctor.

My name’s Dr Lupin. I’m going to examine you. Is there anywhere that hurts?”

“Excuse me, I was hit by a clumsy yeti.” Regulus snickered back, ignoring Dr Lupin.

“Did you hit your head?” The doctor asked worriedly, his hands gently probing across Regulus’s head. Regulus swatted him away.

“No, the yeti was him,” He pointed at James. Dr Lupin looked between them, confused.

“Regulus, can you tell me where you’re hurt?” He asked again patiently.

“My ankle,” He pointed at his left foot. Dr Lupin carefully prodded and rotated the joint.

“Hmm, I don’t think it’s broken. Badly sprained. Keep off it for at least a week and wear this…” Dr Lupin dug out a tubular bandage and handed it to James.

“Make sure you’re boyfriend takes it easy. Hot chocolate works wonders.” He smiled kindly.

“Oh-no-he’s not my-we’re not!” James spluttered.

“Hear that, dear? Waited on hand and foot.” Regulus said as he held back his laughter. Dr Lupin looked between them again, realising he was missing something.

“Well. Here’s my card in case the pain gets any worse.” He handed over the little card and excused himself. James watched the doctor pause when the man who looked eerily like Regulus caught his eye when he was about to walk out the door.

“So hot chocolate then, love?” He snickered at Regulus, winking and taking great pleasure at the pink colour his cheeks turned. James was going to enjoy this week. He just knew it.

Next part

#April 13 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #jegulus au #james potter #regulus black #james fleamont potter #regulus arcturus black #remus lupin #sirius black #james x regulus #regulus x james #regulus and james #james potter x regulus black #james and regulus #clumsy james #ski #dr lupin

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cultofdixon · 9 months

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At least there’s no bears

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Usually Daryl can see where the traps lay…but then you got caught • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Daryl slowly sat up in his bed knowing he has the hunt today and that his partner will be joining him. Which meant he had to get ready and then drag their ass out of bed so they could get ready.

Once they both were ready, Y/N stretched their back out waiting for the archer who was currently informing the early bird Rick on their whereabouts for the morning.

“Hey, eat” Daryl startles them out of their thoughts as they tiredly take the protein bar handed to them and started to dig in while they walk to the gates.

It was a cold and nice morning for the two to go on foot for the entirety of the hunt. Even if Y/N does miss his bike to at least go a bit further out.

“You still waking up?”

“Meh.” They shrug adjusting the rifle on their back as they held onto the strap while looking around. “Why do we have to hunt early? Like. It’s what 5AM?”

“Have a watch to confirm that?” Daryl laughs a bit only to be hit with a pebble in the back of the head. As he quickly whips back, Y/N pretended like nothing happened only for him to playfully glare. “I’d be careful of any left behind traps. Don’t think there’s anything as serious as a bear trap but better to be aware”

“Why do people hunt bears? Some of them may be stupid, then others just want to steal your picnic baskets”

Daryl stopped once more only for Y/N to run right into him from not paying attention. He gave them a confused look.

“For someone who had a brother with only a few working brain cells. He didn’t watch cartoons? YOU didn’t watch cartoons?”

“Yogi bear”

“SEE YOU DID”

“Merle only watched cartoons or fights”

“Sounds very Merle coded” Y/N laughs a bit as they branched off a bit into a different direction to check out a bush with fruit on it.

The archer kept an eye on them for the most part, not like they would need the extra set of eyes since their first response in danger is to fight or find the closest hiding spot. They were also one of those adventure types from the old world and would almost always be outside so he knew that they knew about certain signs of danger and especially what’s poisonous or not.

“Those berries good?”

“Nah. But it could be good bait for small critters that can have it” Y/N plucked a handful as the two quickly turned to the sudden scurry that was too quick for a walker and Daryl went to follow.

When the tracks came up empty, Daryl was hit in the head again and turned to Y/N who had just caught up to him.

“What?”

“Did yea hit me with a berry?”

“No but thanks for the idea” Y/N laughs kneeling down to grab the acorn that fell, also grabbing the few acorn caps off the ground. “You ever wear these on your finger tips? As a kid?”

“And pretend your fingers were friends or some shit”

“That’s incredibly sad. If only I lived near the forest in Georgia then we would’ve been friends. Always find me in the trees”

“City kid?”

“Yeah but my sister always took me to the park to get outside and yknow, also not to hear bickering soon-to-be divorced parents” They laugh a bit as they took one of Daryl’s hands to put an acorn cap on one of his fingers before finding another bush in their peripheral to go investigate.

Daryl looks at the little acorn cap they put on his finger and thought it was cute of them, but before a smile could even grace his features. Fear shot right through him.

“son of a—-FUCK!” Y/N yells as their voice echoed through the forest followed by the thud of their body hitting the ground. They looked down to find the bear trap latched onto their left ankle. “Fuck fuck FUCK” they were too afraid to move and once Daryl finally came over.

The color in his face drained as he knelt down to assess what happened.

“You should’ve watched where you were going”

“Seriously?!” Y/N snaps at him for stating an annoying yet obvious response. Only for the sudden jerk to worsen the pain as they couldn’t look at their blood drain from their body or they might pass out. “Oh god”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ—-We gotta get this shit off yea without taking the foot”

“Oh”

“Oh?!” Daryl stops messing with it to lock eyes with Y/N a moment as neither exchanged a word. “What the fuck is happening right now?! Did I hurt yea further or—-“

“SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE CALM ONE”

“DEFINITELY DOESNT GOTTE BE YOU”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE THE WALKERS HEAR YOUR YELLING” Y/N snaps only for Daryl to cover their mouth waiting for the snap of twigs he heard to just be a critter and not what they had said a few seconds ago.

“I wish yea didn’t adapt your feelings to the situation when you’re the goddamn one that’s injured.”

“Freaking out to my full potential will only make me sob and the pain a whole lot worse” Y/N squeezed their eyes shut to fight back the tears as it was starting to get way worse. They carefully took their belt off even if it meant shifting, a wince, and Daryl flinching to the pain response. “Tourniquet”

“Smart. Very smart” Daryl takes the belt from them and got started applying such above their ankle before assessing what he should do next.

A lot of blood.

A lot of fucking blood.

It’s a 2hr window before they might lose it even with a tourniquet.

Y/N watches as Daryl thinks too loud in front of them. They were worrying about him even if they are the one bleeding less now. They clear their throat to get his attention as his expression instantly went to stress and worry thinking something worse was happening.

“Take the bear trap off, wrap the wound in your bandana, then carry me home so Denise can patch me up” their voice was shaky after silently crying a bit to themselves. Daryl did exactly what they said, a bit confused why they were so clear minded about it.

Next thing they knew, Daryl was carrying Y/N on his back all the way back to Alexandria.

“This shouldn’t have happened…”

“D, come on…”

“I knew this area had fuckin’ traps last time I was out. Should’ve taken them out before dragging you out here”

“You didn’t drag me out here” Y/N frowns. “And you would’ve gotten yourself caught in a bear trap. It just happens by accident”

“You shouldn’t have come…”

“I wanted to. You asked and I said yes…even if you didn’t I would’ve come out to find you if you’re didn’t leave a note like you usually do” They rest their head on his shoulder trying not to let the blood loss beat them with the exhaustion. “Shits unpredictable sometimes…”

“You’re too optimistic sometimes” Daryl sighs, listening to them hum in agreement as he felt their body shift against him. Making his anxiety pick up the pace to get to Alexandria.

It’s been a few hours and Y/N woke up exhausted but at least patched up and in the infirmary. They noticed they were alone but at least there was crutches to help them get around.

As they managed to get up and out of the building, Daryl was starting to head back to them carrying something when he noticed them on the crutches.

“You’re supposed to stay in the fuckin’ bed”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Y/N scoffs. “I wanna be in my bed. With you. Thank you very much” they were about to move past him when Daryl took their crutches leaving them still in a flamingo pose. “Daryl. Don’t be a dick”

“Let me set shit down inside and I’m carrying yea to bed. And ain’t taking no for an answer”

“Then can you hurry up? You or Denise or whoever took my jacket and I’m cold” Y/N frowns waiting for Daryl, watching him go inside the house leaving them out there longer than they had wanted.

But Daryl came back out in a little bit of a sprint with one of his sweaters, helping them get it on before picking them up bridal style and going toward the house.

“You gonna be nurse back to health?”

“Ain’t leavin’ yea that’s for sure”

“You’re sweet”

“You’d fall down the stairs if I left yea alone”

“I think I’m gonna take back calling you sweet” Y/N laughs resting their head on his shoulder as he pushes every door he had to open with his foot. Eventually getting to their room and setting them on the bed.

The archer carefully propped up their ankle using his pillow and covered them with his blanket. Y/N got comfortable watching Daryl move around the room moving a few things but then he left to grab something.

When he came back a moment later, Y/N had fallen asleep given their body was still wiped out and the drugs Denise gave them still floated around. Daryl set the glass of water on their nightstand along with fresh bandages for when they wake up so he could put new ones on. In the mean time, he moved to his side of the bed taking his boots off before bringing his whole self beside them.

Y/N opened their eyes a sec to see him beside them as they carefully moved their self close enough to bring their head on his shoulder. Daryl rests his head on top of theirs taking the time to finally relax.

“At least there wasn’t any bears”

“Shut up and go to sleep”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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nerdpoe · 1 year

Text

Prefacing this with I haven't read the comics I just dip in and out like the canon is a pool and I'm trying to climb onto a pool floatie.

So y'all remember that weird fucked up mind game test Bruce pulled on Tim in the beginning of their bullshit? The real fucked up mindgame that made Tim quit being robin for a bit, before coming back and being all "I know I'm not gonna get an apology." And Bruce was all "good."?

What if Tim realized it for what it was.

Tim realizes the test is a test and decides to get back at Bruce in his own game.

Bruce wants to act like he doesn't care about him in an effort to protect himself from grief if another kid ends up dying? That's fine.

Bruce resorting to psychological mind games to drive Tim away from seeking any support??

Not cool.

Tim realizes, and pulls a Hamlet.

He likes Dick, doesn't want the man to go through what Bruce is about to, and goes to Bludhaven to directly tell Dick not to believe ANYTHING Batman says for a month if it relates to Tim, that he's gonna teach the old man a lesson.

Dicks like "uhhhhhhh okay? U know we can just tell him whatever he's done is wrong, right?"

And Tim's just "nah, I'm past that point. See u in like three weeks to a month. This conversation didn't happen."

He leaves a copy of Hamlet in his locker in the bat cave, the only clue he's gonna drop until all is said and done, and gets to work.

Pretends that Bruce's mind fuck has driven him mad, pretends that he's sneaking off to chase down leads, pretends to talk to people that aren't there, visits the joker just to learn how to mimic his laugh, (side bar, joker has no idea why the new robin is visiting him and disabling the cameras, or why the kid just copies what he says and when he laughs, but after like two weeks of it he may be slightly uncomfortable around the kid no lie) uses makeup to make his eye bags look worse and trashes his own house (his parents are gonna be so pissed but he's already angrier than they could ever hope to be, so they can suck it), acts so unhinged Bruce calls it off and tries to tell him the truth, only for Tim to pretend like he doesn't believe him and steal the robin uniform and run away, and then goes and sneaks away from his own house (he knew he was being watched) to a warehouse he predetermined with a conspiracy theory board and string in his room (he needs to make sure Bruce knows where Tim wants him to go) and the conspiracy theory is just an amalgamation of the bullshit Joker spews (again, joker is really confused by this strange child hero and very slightly unsettled, what the fuck Batman where the fuck did u get this robin, maybe return him to the robin store? This one's defunct), makes sure it's abandoned, and blows it to hell with the robin uniform inside

He knows Bruce will be too jarred, to lost in the major trauma buttons Tim is pushing with the warehouse explosion, to do a proper analysis. He KNOWS Bruce will want it done as quickly as possible, and try to bury Tim as quickly as he can. He knows his parents won't get any phone calls for at least a month.

Then he goes to ground for a week.

Walks back into the cave after that week, corners a grieving and broken Bruce, and asks him how he likes mind games now.

After all, it was just a TEST. There was no need to skip basic steps like DNA analysis, that's just SLOPPY Bruce.

Dick, who had been warned by Tim early on and kinda knew the kid was gonna pull a fast one of Bruce, had NO IDEA it was gonna be this depraved, and is very highly Shook. Nor did he realize Bruce had tried a mind game first, and is...disappointed but not surprised, really.

But holy shit Tim Bruce started at a 9 and you escalated to a goddamn 25.

Bruce, realizing that they may both be a bit fucked up, acquiesces to therapy. For all of them. Holy shit for all of them, because that was NOT a normal teenage response and he is beginning to sense some distinctly villainous red flags from this kid.

Next time the joker breaks out he flat out refuses to believe that Tim is a Robin, and joker is the one that starts the whole Cuckoo thing, and asks Batman if he's gonna send the kid to Arkham early or if this is a weird intervention program he's trying.

Then he tries to murder like fifty people cuz he's the motherfucking JOKER.

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hueningsloverr · 4 months

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౨ৎ king of my heart !

pairing: yeonjun x non idol!reader summary: yeonjun loved being in love. especially since he got to be in love with you. word count: 1.0k extra: inspired by taylor swift's 'king of my heart'! apart of my valentines day series

liking yeonjun was like liking water. everyone did. you’d never meet one person who didn’t have something positive to say about him. even ex girlfriends praised him. he was a gentleman, through and through.

and that’s what made liking him so difficult. he was too kind for his own good at times. always lending you his sweater when you shivered even the slightest. picking a specific movie you had mentioned once weeks ago.

small things.

he remembered the way you took your coffee. the song you claim you grew up listening to on repeat. both of your parents birthdays, and their anniversary.

most importantly, he remembers the day he first laid eyes on you.

it wasn’t the first day you met. that day wouldn’t come for another two years. but the day he first saw you was just as crystal clear in his memory as what he ate for lunch. it was something he would never forget.

he was dropping kai off after practice, and you were visiting lea. the two of you were outside, and whilst you didn’t even register the car pulling up, yeonjun instantly saw you.

he was mesmermized.

and by the time he asked kai about you, it was two weeks later. and you were back off at school states away.

the two of you wouldn’t run into each other again until two years later, when one fateful night would lead to the two of you meeting, for real this time.

you were alone in the bar, lea off laughing with friends as you sat talking away with the bartender.

(the two of you went to high school together, you’d later tell yeonjun when he’d inquire about the night.)

he first noticed lea, but the moment he saw you he felt like he was eighteen again, seeing you for the first time. sure, time had passed, but you still looked similar to how you did back then.

not even three weeks after your chance encounter, he was already calling you ‘baby’. you felt like a school-girl in love once again whenever he would utter that word under his breath, trying to be discrete about it.

it felt like a fairtytale ending. something so sweet. so perfect. it was idealistic.

idyllic, he once called it. you didn’t know what the word had meant, not at the time at least. extremely happy, peaceful, or picturesque. checked out.

the two of you just fit together like puzzle pieces. despite any beliefs you had surrounding the idea of being single forever, yeonjun was able to convince you to give him a try.

he was the one you had spent your whole life waiting for - your knight in shining armour (or whatever the saying was).

he treated you like he worshiped the ground you walked on, which all your friends fawned over, but you found slightly unhealthy. to you, there was absolutely nothing special about you as a human being. you did the same things every day - wake up, go to work, go home, go to bed. it was a constant cycle of nothingness.

yeonjun on the other hand? he was cool. he had an exciting life. he was famous. you were the one that should be treating him like he was royalty - like he was god. but he freaked out whenever you tried.

"jjunie!" you called out, seeing him. there was such a wide smile on his face you were surprised he wasn't in pain.

he didn't say anything, just raced towards you. it didn't matter that he was tired, and sweaty, and just wanted to go home.

you were there.

"i missed you," he mumbled into your ear, his grip on you so tight you were worried someone would have to pry him off of you. "did you see the show?"

you nodded, unsure if he would really be able to understand the gesture. of course you saw the show. "you were amazing, serious-" you began to praise him, only for him to interrupt you with a soft kiss to the forehead.

"you don't need to go into detail, i already get told that a hundred times a day." he groaned, rolling his eyes. you could tell he was embarrassed. but it was the truth. he was good.

"whatever," you laughed, taking his hand in yours. "you never let me compliment you."

he smirked slightly, choosing to not deny the claim, but also not agree with it. "yeah, yeah. i saw that boy, during soundcheck. he was doing some checking of his own." he huffed, though you could tell his annoyance was not aimed towards you, but the boy who had been (apparently) flirting with you.

now it was your turn to smirk. "you know those boys are nothing compared to you! doesn't matter if they're millionaires with expensive cars, you're the one who lives in my heart."

he nodded, resting his chin on your head. he was already done with the conversation. he knew you would never hurt him, but the reassurance was nice. the confirmation leaving your lips, not one of his members.

"if i died right now, i would die happy."

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. this caused him to look down at you.

"i feel like a teenager in love again when i have you with me. like i'm still seventeen, pining over the girl in my physics class."

his voice was almost a whisper, as if even he wasn't sure of what he was saying.

"i know sometimes you doubt yourself, but this right here? what we have? it is enough. it is so much more then enough, actually."

you weren't even sure where all of these confessions were coming from. it was as if someone had given him a truth serum, and he was just spilling his guts.

"you know, i didn't date at all before you. you are the one i have been waiting for, all these years."

those words reminded you just why exactly you were in love with choi yeonjun. it wasn't because of his money, or his status, or his looks. it was nothing about who he was on the outside. it was because of the person he was beneath all of that. his feelings, his hopes, his dreams.

all of that is that made you fall in love with him.

and all of that is the reason he was the king of your heart, body, and soul.

forever and always.

authors note: part one done!!! four more parts :3 i'm planning on posting soobin on saturday so keep your eyes peeled! this is also a partial birthday gift to my lovely @anxietyglitch <3!!

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enviedear · 7 months

Text

nervous neighbor ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ you're back at home from university, living with your parents for the summer because it's cheaper than trying to pay for an apartment while on a student's salary. but after you meet the new neighbor's son, ben solo, you're not so sure it's worth it.

pairing ⌙ neighbor!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ inebriated reader & ben, they're smoking weed and being petty together, mean!ben because when do i not make him a bit mean, ben jokingly attempts to solicit reader, reader has a blatant sort of fascination with ben, ben has severe blatant yearning for reader, reader is described to need a belt to wear ben's pants (don't question me it comes up), some high kisses (they're so fun oops), somewhat getting caught, tiny little bitty cliffhanger, ben's personality is totally based off this brent faiyaz song lmao

word count ⌙ 3.5k

— request (frl especially for ben/kylo) | masterlist

i love the idea of neighbor!ben so ofc i had to put my thoughts into a little fic! if anyone is interested... i wouldn't be mad at making this a series. i love neighbor!ben!

the sun is low in the sky, casting a warm and appreciated golden glow on the world around you. you revel in the sanctity of the suburban environment as you step outside your front door. the rays burn into your exposed shoulders, spaghetti straps lightly digging into the skin.

the fragrant scent of freshly cut grass hangs heavy in the air, leaving an earthy flavor in your mouth. you pull at the hem of your shorts, feeling the soft fabric brush against your exposed thighs as you make your way to the black mailbox straight ahead.

you flip through bills and junk mail, all in your parent's name for a minute before you hear the unmistakable rev of a car engine approaching. the engine seems to purr the closer it gets, and you're all too familiar with the sound. you feel glued to your spot as it approaches.

soon enough, ben solo's sleek aston martin swerves into his driveway, coming to a stop just a few feet away from his closed garage door. you watch as he gets out of the car, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead, and meets your gaze with his severe brown eyes.

there’s something about the way he looks at you that causes your heart to race. the sensation is unwanted or, at least, you tell yourself it is.

he looks like he always does; clad in dress pants and a pristine button-up, face etched with subtle haughtiness, and pink lips curved into a deliciously heretical grin. the previous sanctity you felt dissipates as his stare beats down on you, hotter and more all-consuming than the sun above.

"neighbor." he anoints, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "how much allowance are mommy and daddy giving you for checking their mail?"

"very funny," you retort, eyes rolling, "maybe they're drawing from the same funds your parents did when they bought you that ridiculous car."

you liked playing this game with ben. where he attempts to seem as if he's got something over you, some unspoken win. as if you're not both twenty-somethings still living with your parents.

he does have an actual retirement plan type job though, so, perhaps, he has you beat in some areas.

he works full-time, a fact you learned after dinner with your parents and his. brought up by your parents so they could dote on him— effectively buttering up han and leia further. the ass-kissing earned the family privileges to their in-ground pool though.

he's pretty prestigious, unfortunately. ben organa-solo, the youngest associate at his legal firm. he apparently had over forty offers of employment before he ever even looked at the bar exam.

he's doing well, sure— but the sheer fact that he still lives with his parents is enough to quell your nuanced jealousy. somewhat.

"my db-nine can never be called ridiculous. do you know the specs on this car?" he taunts, opting to lean against his aforementioned car.

you begin to turn away from him, not willing to go into a conversation regarding his stupidly expensive automobile. you can feel your ears warming as you try to ignore him, but ben is relentless, as usual, "you know, you really should relax a little, i'm only joking, kid.."

"excuse me?" you snap, fronting him again and crossing your arms defensively, "i am plenty relaxed, solo. thank you very much."

in truth, you haven't been relaxed or even casual since the organa-solo's moved in eight months ago. wealthy and recently retired, leia and han are amusing, charming, and almost constantly travelling.

the pair managed to befriend your parents the second they moved in. bringing over a plate of brownies, the duo easily meshed with your parents, making for countless dinners, conversations, and visits between the two homes.

the opposite can be said for ben and you. when you finally met him, a few weeks after his parents moved in, it was because he was yelling at your dog for 'purposely' pissing on one of his tires. since then, you haven't exactly seen eye to eye.

"mhm, of course," he drawls sarcastically, "that's why you're always so wound up,” he’s smirking now, "you ever thought about smoking a joint or something? might help you chill out."

"really?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow, "that's your solution? drugs?" you choose to ignore his quip about you being tightly wound. as if he's not— you've seen him after work, he always looks tense, shoulders tight. at the recollection of his job title makes you almost comment on his choice of illegal activity, but you stop yourself.

maybe this was his vice after hours of listening to legal jargon?

"i'm just offering a suggestion. i've got pot and an empty house." his voice is biting, holding his hands up defensively, "take it or leave it, kid."

your mind is wrought with confusion over his words. in the few months you’ve known him, you would have never thought he’d be suggesting what he is.

ben solo, who drives an aston martin, only wears button-ups or suits, and is always willing to make you look or feel idiotic, is trying to convince you to smoke pot with him.

you worry for a brief second if you’re deluded.

you would have never suspected the famed judiciary to unwind in such a way.

no, your first guess would have been whiskey, or maybe something a bit more scandalized and indecent. you try to shake that idea out of your head.

"fine," you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, surprising both you and the arrogant figure in front of you.

"seriously?" ben questions, his eyes widening in apprehension. "you're actually going to do it?"

"yeah, solo," you shrug, drawing out the first word, trying to sound more resolved than you feel, "nothing i haven’t done before."

"okay, cheech," he mutters, grinning wickedly, "let me smoke you out."

you follow him into his house, heart pounding in your chest. you're familiar with the layout— almost identical to your own home, only nicer. everything is nicer.

the air inside is cool and smells faintly of lavender, mixed with something decadent you can’t quite place. glancing around the space, you take it all in. it feels different now that you're alone with ben. less homey and more belly of the beast.

there are windows everywhere, letting in an abundance of natural light despite the evident tint. the furniture is modern and obviously hand-picked though comfortable and no doubt, expensive.

you try to make yourself cozy on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. ben disappears for a moment and returns with a tray, a red grinder, a lighter, and a baggie of green herbs.

your hands go clammy as you watch him grind it down. you try to wipe them on your pants, hoping he doesn’t notice.

he doesn’t seem to, instead beginning to roll a joint, packing the herb down with his thumb. his movements, precise and hypnotic. he's defiling all previous conclusions you had of him. he’s sure, magnetic, and undeniably confusing.

“ready?” he asks, holding the rolled paper out to you. you nod, and he lights up the twisted end, inhaling deeply before passing it over to you.

you place the joint to your lips, feeling the warmth of the light spark grazing your fingers. the earthy plant kindles with a soft crackle, and you inhale deeply. smoke fills your lungs, coiling inside you.

the cloudy smoke immediately hits your entire sinus system, choking you on its descent down.

you cough and ben laughs, “shit, take it slow, kid.” he huffs, before handing you a tepid water bottle, no question he figured you'd wind up coughing a lung.

you drink gratefully, feeling the water cleanse your burning throat. you look at ben, who’s watching you intently.

your eyes are watery and slightly hazy, but ben has never look better. eyes red and low, posture easy with one arm behind his head, and faint pink flush.

“what?” you ask, self-conscious. the room seems to swirl around as ben sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body.

"nothing, neighbor," his stare is mocking, "do you feel relaxed yet?" he asks with a smirk.

you give him a meager thumbs-up, suddenly lightheaded and giggly. your thoughts are wondering to ben's pretty lips, but your mouth remains whetted and silent. adorning thoughts remaining within your capricious mind.

the tension in your body melts away, and you lean back against the couch cushions, letting out a deep sigh. ben's hand brushes against yours to steal the joint away, and you feel the heat of his touch all the way to your toes. it's as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists.

“are you cold?” he asks, taking a drag, dress shirt sleeves rolled up, leaving his arms on full display.

you look at him, bewildered for a second, and he continues with an eye roll, “you’re shivering.”

looking down at your body, you note that you indeed are. either from the weed or the proximity you have to your novel neighbor.

with a gentle breath, you reply, “i guess.”

he holds the joint with his lips as he stands to look down at you, “c’mon i’ve got blankets in my room.”

you look up at him, unsure of what to say, but find yourself bobbing in agreement. you follow him upstairs, the both of you languid in reaching the destination. when you do finally get to his room, you note the array of muted jewel tones and dim light, different than the rest of the house.

ben keeps his blinds partially closed and curtains that mostly fall in front of them. his bed is huge, pristine white sheets and an inviting navy bedspread.

you watch as he pulls out a thick woolen blanket from his closet and spreads it over your shoulders. you feel the weight of it settle over you, cocooning you in warmth.

"better?" he asks, voice low.

you nod again, feeling the hazy ardor of the drug swimming through your body. everything feels fuzzy, and for the first time you don't feel so out of place with ben.

he takes a seat beside you on his all too comfortable bed, the aroma of his pomelo-scented cologne filling your senses. you discern it's probably dangerous in some way to be alone with ben like this, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care or reason why.

you let yourself peer into his large and expansive open closet. clothes, mostly suits and dress shirts, hang neatly on identical black hangars. he's tidy. the fact feels unmistakable, and you think you should already know just by the way he carries himself.

ben's voice interrupts your absent mind, "anything you like?"

you look back at him, leaning up against the headboard of his bed, joint billowing smoke from its rested position in his fingers. he looks less severe like this, less perfect, more mortal.

you're certain the drug has taken effect now because when you move to get closer to him, it feels as if you're floating.

you take the joint from him, stealing another hit before replying, "you just have a lot of suits. i wonder if you own anything besides them. i've never seen you in anything but."

"is this one of your long-winded jokes?" he briefly closes his eyes, but you can see them roll through his lids, "because if so, i'll kick you out. i won't hesitate to send you back to your house, neighbor."

snorting, you take yet another hit of the joint, "i did see something i liked, actually." you confess, your drugged mind deciding to be just a bit genuine.

he hums, "really? i've never seen you in a suit, or anything formal."

the sentence sounds stupid coming out of ben's mouth, but you chalk it up to his tipsy state, "maybe you will. one day."

your reply sounds equally as dumb, but you feel good, and you're actually having a conversation with ben. one that doesn't involve him undermining you or snickering at what you're saying.

"really? wanna try mine on? for practice." ben is smirking, eyes narrow, searing, and bloodshot.

you give him a ditzy look, joint still dangling from your fingers, "whatever, solo."

ben lets out a genuine giggle at that, and in your inebriated state, you smile at the sound. his dimples are on full display as he leans further into his cushioned headboard, eyes glazed and focused purely at you, "i'll pay, if you do."

his face is gentle, almost winsome, but the words that tumble out of his mouth sound murky— riddled with a slight hint of hunger. for what exactly? you're not sure.

your lips contort into a frown before you reply, "you'll pay me to put on your clothes? god, ben how much did you smoke?"

you mean for your words to come off as a joke, easy and light. instead, it comes out as timid and shy. you'd normally feel a tinge of embarrassment but either the drug or ben's starved stare makes the would-be feeling detach from your mind.

"enough." he shrugs, answering your rhetorical question, "i've got five hundred in my wallet right now," he pauses, leaning over to you and grabbing the joint, fingers brushing against yours, "and i want a show."

your mind seems to blank for a second, leaving you to blink your dry, red eyes in front of him. when the small wave of shock subdues, you reply, "i don't know how to give you a show."

ben shakes his head slightly, his eyes still set on yours, “yeah you do. swear it's not hard, kid.”

“says you,” you giggle, “but i’ll try on your clothes. for the money.”

he breathes in, contented, “for the money.”

without much more thought, you rise from his plush bed and make way for the closet. it's big enough to be another room, a stark contrast from your own closet, and it smells of his citrusy cologne merged with the lavender scent throughout the home. you find it comforting.

you look back over your shoulder, ben's watching you intently from his seated position, "what should i start with, solo?"

he hums before replying, "your pick, neighbor. what's mine is yours."

you can't help the dorky smile that graces your lips at his sentiment, even though you know he's being flippant. you hastily turn away from him, hiding your weak-willed reaction.

taking a deep breath, you begin to rummage through his wardrobe. your fingers brush against the luxurious fabric of his suits before settling on a satin black button-up that looks silky smooth to the touch.

you grab it and turn around to face ben, who's now standing and walking towards you, his eyes fixed on the shirt in your hand.

"that's a good choice," he says, his voice low and husky, "you'll look better in it than i do."

you roll your eyes at his comment but can't help the warmth that shoots through your body at his words. you quickly slip it over your cropped tank, eager to see it on.

as you're buttoning it up, you feel his swarthy eyes on you, watching your every move. you can't help but feel giddy with his ardent gaze and your own euphoric state of mind.

as you finish up the last button, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the ornate mirror hung upon one of the closet walls. you look decadent in his pompous shirt.

the feeling of contentment that washes over you is startling.

it's a beautiful cut of fabric, but it's the way it represents the achieved man behind you that has you stalling. you notice ben's breath hitch as he takes in the sight of you.

"i was right. it looks much better on you." he says, his voice rough.

you grin at him, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you, "is that right, solo?" you question, your demeanor one of leisure.

without warning, ben steps forward, right hand coming to rest on your shoulder as he leans down to you, "here," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "you missed the first button."

his fingers dance at your chest, fastening the skipped button. you fight a smile at the act, keening at his rash action. high ben is certainly less sardonic than sober ben, finding a nice middle ground at graceful teasing.

"you pick the pants, and grab a belt so that they'll fit." you smile.

he hums, pulling away and trifling through his clothes. his nimble fingers card through various pairs of slacks, settling on a matching black pair.

he turns on his heels, facing you. he raises his brows, a silent request for you to take the pants. when you do, his hands begin to fumble with his belt.

your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "what are you doing?"

"i want you to wear this one. just let me play dress up with you, doll." his black locks are falling into his eyes.

you huff out a weak chuckle, focused on his action and new endearment. when the belts slides away from him, you notice the way his slacks droop slightly.

with a curt and nervous smile, you slide up the dark pants, fitting his belt around your hips afterward.

you study yourself in the mirror, opting to tuck the shirt into the pants messily— an attempt to somewhat display your waist.

ben comes up behind you, hands resting on your shoulders, humming into the top of your head, "i quite like you this way. ever thought about getting an office job for me?"

you give him a sarcastic pout, "for you?"

he smiles, canines showing, "yeah, doll, just for me."

you're dizzy at his words, "yeah, then who'd watch my parent's house all day? it's a full-time job being a stay-at-home daughter, you know."

ben groans a bit at your words, "that makes you sound like a little brat, you know." he drawls out the last two words, mocking.

you smirk, facing him now, lips becoming level with his when he leans down to stare into your eyes, "my mom calls me a brat sometimes. she says i'm never going to find someone acting like one," you pause for a beat, "d'you agree, ben?"

at the emphasis of his first name he sighs and lets his hands fall to your waist, "i agree that you're a fuckin' brat," he cranes his head closer, breath brushing against your lips, "but i don't think i mind very much."

your eyes flutter against your better judgment, and ben takes an evident note of the fact. his hands tighten at your waist, fingers digging in possessively. you feel a beat of caution before it flies away from your resolution. you press forward just as he does the same, lips meeting in a slow, heady, absolutely exalting kiss.

ben's fingers dig into you, timidly pulling you further into him. you crumble at his touch, hands fisting into his hair as he deepens the kiss further. he tastes of sweet honey and sunlight that fills you with warmth and affection.

you're both weakly fighting for more— an incessant craving for each other that quickly overtakes your common sense. the looming man continues to cast an unbreakable spell with each aching kiss as his gentle hands caress every inch of exposed skin on your body.

you let his hands fumble with the buttons of the borrowed shirt, slowly slipping it away from you. it brushes past your shoulders, and ben breaks the hungry kisses to trail sloppy ones on your exposed neck.

you're lost in the feeling of him— all-consuming. neither one of you willing to be pulled back to reality— but eventually you both have to break away from one another with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks. ben looks down at you with an amused grin on his face before planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

you hum and he mutters against you, "you like that? hm?"

"duh," you steal a glance up, "feels s'nice." there's a stupid grin stuck to your face.

"you taste so good, doll," he places a teasing kiss at the dip at the bottom of your neck, "and your lips are so fucking soft."

you give him a questioning look, lips upturned, "really? sounds wild coming from the same man that just called me a brat."

he hums darkly, "you being a brat," he places another kiss to your exposed neck, "just makes this little game of ours more interesting," one of his hands lifts your chin, pulling you closer, "c'mere, kid."

his lips are back on yours, less languid and with much more fervor. you feel so full in his arms. divinely entangled in the coveted luxury of ben organa-solo.

suddenly, you hear commotion from downstairs, drugged mind abruptly anxious.

"what's that?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

ben growls, "fuck— i'm sorry doll, i think my parents are home." you catch the faint flush on his cheeks.

you bite your lip, concerned, "but... i'm high. and wearing your clothes."

ben is about to say something else when the deep baritone of han solo's voice booms from behind his closed bedroom door, "come on out, son. the neighbor's are over for dinner. their daughter should be here soon," han's voice drops a bit, "and try to ease up on the flirting this time, okay?"

you stifle an uninhibited giggle, earning a glare from ben.

"yeah, sure. just let me get out of my work clothes," he peers down at you, eyes wicked, "don't want them to think it's all i own."

your eyes widen at his subtle dig, and he seems to revel in your amusement.

han grumbles something back before leaving. your breathing is erratic for a good few seconds. ben's hands remain on you, gentle grin on his lips.

"you heard the man. dinner." his voice is low, and you fight the urge to pull him into another kiss. the thought of more than kissing weighing heavily on your stoned mind.

your reply knocks the smile off of his face, "how are you going to explain the fact i'm already with you and high off my ass?"

he groans, head falling into the crook of your neck, "shit."

164 notes · View notes

ktsumu · 8 months

Text

WHEN WE WERE THIEVES

pairing: atsumu miya x gn!reader wc: 5.7k

when the case is that your romantic partner was once your literal partner in crime, it’s a fact that it would be shameful if you didn’t know all of their oldest hiding spots. even more shameful is them not expecting you to know, already.

It was the first summer after you turned nine when you met him for the first time, surrounded by cardboard moving boxes and loud trucks.

Actually, you met two of him.

Across the street of your quaint culdesac dream sat a clunky moving truck, close by to a far less clunky car that sat idly in the driveway, doors swung open wide as two boys did literally anything but help unload. They intrigued you from your window—partially because they seemed to fade into each other after they crossed, their matching outfits doing you no favours in telling them apart.

(Eventually, one fell, and you learned the name of the boy who stood victorious was Osamu, by the way the one on the ground wailed.)

The boy on the ground, you found, was Atsumu; at least, it was the name muttered by ‘Osamu’ as he desperately tried to get the former to stop crying before his parents came back outside.

From the comfort of your window, you watched them. By the time they finally stopped playing a twisted version of two-player tag and fell onto the grass, it was dark out, and you were dozing off on your windowsill and pressing your face into the screen that barred you from the outdoors. When your mother came up to make sure you were asleep, she wasn’t mad when she found you awake.

“If you want to play with them, you can just ask,” she suggested. “You don’t just have to watch them.”

You only shrugged, eyes heavy as you listened to them complain about mosquitoes.

“They’re kinda weird.”

With a snorting laugh, your mother had already guided you towards your bed. You only heard one part of her goodnight, your eyes shutting almost immediately after hitting the mattress.

“Huh.” She patted your side, tucking you in tightly. “You’ll fit right in, then.”

And fit in, you did.

The next morning, you had woken up with a new quest: befriend the strangers across the street.

Clumsily, toaster waffles were carefully crafted before being drenched in syrup on a plate; a few steps away from repulsive now, unbelievably attractive then. And then, with your newfound determination and encouragement, you walked across the street when you heard their sneakers scuffing on the pavement.

Naturally, their two-person game of badminton slowed to a stop, the birdie bouncing twice off of the hot asphalt when they saw you coming with your plate. In their direction, no less.

When you reached them and the silence wasn’t seeming to find an end, you huffed.

“Hi. I wanted to bring you waffles and welcome you to the street. I live in the house behind me.”

They stood in shock, so you only extended the plate out in front of you.

“Now,” you begin. “Which one of you is Atsumu, and which one is Osamu?”

The twins only smiled, a mischievous grin being shared between them as they looked at one another, a plot dwelling in the heat of the summer air. For the next two months, Osamu called himself Atsumu.

After the great waffle introduction, you got to know the Miya twins. And shockingly, you could tell them apart after they confessed to swapping identities when you were around just to screw you over. Confessed after much interrogation from you, of course.

In school, they jumped right into your classes, never being allowed to sit next to each other for the first week. Osamu was placed with a boy he’d seemed to befriend, and Atsumu was placed right beside you. And whether that was a blessing or a curse, your little brain couldn’t decide. “Stop copying me!” you hissed under your breath, glancing at the teacher as you nudged his arm. “She’s gonna know you did the same thing as me, idiot!” “Well, what if you copied me?” “I didn’t!” “She ain’t know that, does she?”

With a look of sheer betrayal, you hmph’d, turning back to your own piece of construction paper, layered with other pieces of construction paper. Made from different colours was a shooting star, a bright smile drawn dead in the centre of it. “This is why Osamu’s the nicer twin,” you grumbled, watching his eyes flicker between his paper and your own as he began to replicate the eyes you drew. “He wouldn’t copy me.”

And suddenly, something flashed across Atsumu’s face. “Wh—!? Fine, fine! Stop, don’t worry, watch.”

Side-eyeing his page from where you sat, you watched him grab a marker and draw a massive, obvious frown on his star. Now, yours was smiling, and his star looked mortifyingly sad.

“There,” he mumbled. “Now yours is the only one that’s smilin.’ Is that better?”

When you lifted your head from where it sat bowed, quitting your pouting for just a moment, you couldn’t help but smile, covering your mouth as you let out a blithe, immature giggle.

And Atsumu smiled.

When the art exhibit came around at the end of that month, both of your paintings were hung up side-by-side, and the teacher only mentioned the uncanny similarity once before it became history. For the rest of the year, all of your projects looked the exact same; one was smiling, and one wasn’t. They didn’t need names on them to tell whose was whose.

After the great copycat debacle, you and Atsumu discovered that the two of you could get away with a lot more than just snubbing your art teacher.

By the beginning of middle school, test answers were hidden in crinkled gum wrappers, scraped onto desks with a coin for the three of you to pull off. A holy trinity had been formed with Osamu for the sole purpose of selling premade lunches for inflated prices, the money going to popsicles at the convenience store down the street. And when they didn’t have volleyball practice, all three of you would go looking for the mythical and elaborate ‘candy stash’ the Twins’ parents didn’t want them to know about.

“How are you even sure there is one?” you would ask, following them sheepishly through a door you didn’t know existed in their home.

And they’d cough, swatting dust out of their hair and sharing a look you couldn’t get in on.

“Trust me, we know,” they’d say.

The house would get scoured — the highs, through a creaky attic door which Osamu would throw open. The twins would bicker as they searched the entire attic, and you’d lie and tell them a car just pulled into the driveway when you thought you saw a spider crawl out into the house.

And the lows of the basement, where you would hold the flashlight, leading them into the darkest corners with a proud smile as you heard them murmuring behind you. Of course, this search would always turn up nothing. Because, in hindsight, none of you think their parents were up for venturing into uncomfortable places like the three of you were.

But it was an adventure for the day, and almost always ended up with you sleeping over in one of their beds as they took the floor.

“Is it because your mom told you to?” you’d deadpan, smiling lopsidedly as they’d scoff.

“No,” Atsumu would say defensively, “it’s ‘cause I’m a gentleman.”

“We both are, stupid.”

“Yeah, but who’s the one sleeping on the floor? Mm.”

That night, you were woken up by a fervent and rough shaking of the arm, and you cracked an eye open with an annoyed groan. You lifted your hands and rubbed your eyes as a hand clasped over your mouth, causing you to shoot up in bed.

“Wh—!” you yelled into his palm, shoving him off of you when you realized who it was. “What is wrong with you!?” you whisper-yelled. “Shhh!” he shushed, “I found it!”

“Huh? Found what?”

“The stash!” Atsumu’s face was bright, his straight smile wide and full of pure, unadulterated happiness. When you’re thirteen, it’s the little things that make you feel tall. “Come on, wanna show you.” You grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving. “Shouldn’t we wake up ‘Samu?”

Atsumu really should’ve, but he shook his head. “His feet are too loud, he’ll wake up our parents.”

“But you’re even louder—“

“Quit yappin’ and just follow me, will ya?” he pleaded, his smug grin returning after you swung your feet over the side of the bed.

Because even if Atsumu was louder, and that the concept of his parents finding you two awake this late was terrifying, you’d follow him off of a cliff blind. He knew it, too.

He guided you through the hallway, checking corners like his own home was booby-trapped after dark. His hand gripping yours, you made it to the kitchen, and a chair was already placed awkwardly in front of the counter.

“Get up,” he told you.

“Are you crazy? No! I’ll fall!”

“No you won’t,” Atsumu guaranteed you, shaking his head as he held out his hands again. “I’ll make sure of it. C’mon, get up!”

And, as you always did, you believed him, taking his hands as he helped you up onto the kitchen counter.

From the granite countertops, you felt like you were on top of the house—Atsumu looked small as ever, and he was considered kinda tall for his age.

“Hurry up,” he beckons, “check the far left cupboard over the fridge.”

“Jesus, ‘Tsumu, how’d you even manage that one?” you whispered, opening the door as he asked. And, sure enough, the search had come to an end right then and there. Boxes of leftover Halloween candy lined the cabinet—far more than you were expecting.

“See? It exists,” he gloated.

You grinned down at him, looking down at the hands that steadied you by the legs. “Yeah, it does,” you admitted. “And it was just in the kitchen.”

Atsumu shrugged. “Sometimes, the best place to hide treasure is where most would think to look.”

“That’s kinda smart of you to stay.”

“Imma pretend you didn’t just insult me for no reason. Grab a box and let’s get outta here!”

“Grab a box?” you asked, half hissing. “Would that not make us thieves? That’s a punishable thing.”

Atsumu’s crooked smile gleamed back up at you, bathed in the stream of moonlight that came through the wall of windows in the living room.

“So let’s be thieves. We’re already cheats, y’know.”

So you were. You grabbed (stole) the biggest box of Twix you’ve ever seen to date, and gripped his arms as he helped you down to meet him back on the floor. You gave him a grin that he’d never quite seen before — it was carefree and exhilarating, it sent a surge through his veins — and he would be the only one to see it.

That night, the two of you became thieves. More importantly, you became something much more to Atsumu.

When the three of you neighbourhood kids hit high school, the attention the twins got was a different kind of absurd.

The summer between your final year of junior high and your first year of high school was a rather lonely one — you saw Osamu more than you did Atsumu, and even then you barely saw the guy. Osamu found a troupe of new friends, and Atsumu’s talent as a setter landed him in a new camp every month, so it seemed.

You still texted him a lot, sent pictures from your bedroom window taunting him about his absence, but he and his brother were a rare sight; it was even rarer to see them together.

But when school rolled around, you could at least see what the craze was about. Not that you were included in that.

A lot had changed in three months. For starters, they came back tan and with arms like no other guys in the class had. Osamu had been working on their grandfather’s farm all summer, and Atsumu had been training nonstop. It was safe to say he knew his work paid off, too, judging by the way he’d shamelessly flirt with every person who looked in his general direction.

And they grew, too. They’d always been a little bit taller than you, but now you could see it from a distance. It almost made you glad that Atsumu wasn’t around, because you knew for sure you’d never hear the end of it the second he noticed you were a little bit shorter than him and ‘Samu, even more so than before.

Just like you were in elementary school again, the three of you took the same classes. Different levels, of course—but the content was similar enough to meet up at lunch to complain about them.

It was a war and a half to drag Atsumu and Osamu away from their designated seat at the table of kings (also known as: the volleyball team’s table), but it didn’t take long after you reminded them that getting behind on their grades could take them off the team.

“Why are we even here?” Atsumu whined, groaning as he rested his chin in his hand.

“Uh, to make sure you pass English?” you reminded him with a scoff. “Why? Sad you can’t tend to your fifteen girlfriends?”

“Ha? Fifteen?” he asked in amazement. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Shaddup,” Osamu drawled. “You’re both annoying.”

“Says you, dickhead,” Atsumu grit, which earned a smack to the back of his head.

Watching them both act just like they always had despite the way things were changing made you laugh, shaking your head as you looked down at your textbook, flipping open your notebook.

“You two haven’t changed that much at all,” you said, mostly to yourself.

But Atsumu looked up, a small smile growing on his face just from seeing yours alone, his eyes focused on the way your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks when you glanced back down.

And Osamu watched his brother, eyes narrowing as he watched him fall.

Truthfully, though, the boys weren’t the only ones who came back from summer looking different. You did, too.

You’d grown into yourself — your clothes that you bought the summer before fit you better, your eyes were brighter. And the twins weren’t the only ones who had attracted wandering eyes; in fact, people had even gone up and asked the twins if you were talking to anybody, to which Osamu told them to ask you themselves. Atsumu told them to fuck off.

And if you had noticed how the twins changed? Atsumu had noticed how you did tenfold.

“You’re such a shithead,” Osamu complained, slugging his bag onto the ground when they got home. “That’s our best friend, freak. Did ya like them when they slept over every night, too?”

“I don’t like them!” Atsumu protested, shoving past Osamu as he grabbed a drink from the fridge. “What even makes ya say that?”

Osamu blinked, dumbfounded. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that I was trying to do my goddamn bio homework, but couldn’t, because I was too busy gaggin’ at the sight of your goo-goo eyes!”

“My eyes are normal!”

“Not when you’re around them, they aren’t.”

Atsumu grunted in frustration, crossing his arms as he sat at the counter. “So what? Even if I did like them—which I don’t—what’s the issue?”

“You’re a child,” Osamu insulted. “And they're leagues ahead of ya. Besides, you’ve got girls hangin’ off your damn arms, pick one of them and move on.”

Atsumu stuck out his tongue, obviously not above childish cruelty even at sixteen.

Osamu was right; Atsumu was one of the few that had all of their classmates’ attention. But the problem was, he didn’t need ten pairs of eyes on him — he only ever wanted one.

By second year, it was decided unanimously by all of Atsumu’s friends (including Osamu) that there was no chance of him ever getting over you.

Between classes, he was at your hip. During lunch, he was at your hip, asking if you wanted to come sit with the team with him and Osamu. When he walked by your classes with a hall pass, he’d walk extra slow, hoping that maybe you’d spare a passing glance and notice him there; just a glance was enough.

And after careful deliberation with the lunch table, it was officially decided that you were totally off-limits to your high school’s class.

“Stop,” Atsumu would groan, covering his face as Suna snickered under his breath. “I don’t like them!”

“No, you don’t. You love them.”

“I do not!”

Suna just scoffed, turning to Osamu with a nudge. “Watch this—Kita!”

Their team captain turned from his spot walking by, offering a gentle smile as he set his tray down on the table and sat. He nodded to them all, picking up his chopsticks as Suna folded his hands in front of him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You know about the ban on Y/N in our class, right?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he answered, making Osamu and Suna laugh as Atsumu’s jaw fell open. “Aran told me.”

“See? Everyone knows,” Osamu told his brother, beginning to eat his homemade lunch. “I mean, it ain’t like you try to hide it.”

Atsumu’s brows furrowed. If he was gonna be honest with himself, it’d been a couple of years since he started thinking you could maybe be more than just his best friend. But more importantly, why was it just then people were thinking he was so ‘obvious’ about it?

Instead of fighting, Atsumu lowered his head, insulting his brother and pest of a friend under his breath as he picked at his onigiri.

But as soon as he felt familiar hands rest on his shoulders, he perked right up.

“Hey!” you greeted, peeking over his shoulder. “You look like someone just killed your dog.”

“Me? ‘Course not!” he reassured, turning halfway to face you as his mood did a one-eighty. “You’re comin’ to our game tonight, right?”

“Of course!” you told him, smiling at the rest of the table as they watched you with…unusually eager eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it. Oh! I was also gonna ask if you wanted to review for math afterwards? Your place?”

“I—yeah! For sure!”

“Great!” you chimed. “Cya later. Bye guys!”

The table synced with Atsumu in a collective and oddly dainty ‘goodbye’, watching you leave before erupting with snorts and boyish laughs.

“‘For sure!’” Suna mimicked, making doe eyes at Osamu as they began to jokingly make kissy lips at each other, gripping each other’s arms.

And when Atsumu turned to Kita to ask for help, he was chuckling, too.

The first time you kissed Atsumu Miya, it was your first year of university and it had no witnesses; not even the two of you.

Getting out of high school didn’t mean that you got out of the pitiful drinking games that it entailed, and you didn’t fully grasp this until you went to your first party, only to get called over to a circle of people on sofas by—the one and only—Atsumu himself.

“Hey!” he called. “You came!”

He was surrounded by people you didn’t know, probably from his classes, and all you could do was offer a laugh. “I almost didn’t.”

“That’s lame.”

“You’re lame. What’s new?”

“Agh, you suck.”

Atsumu stood up from where he sat, heading over to you and extending a hand. “Come, sit. We’re gonna play ‘Seven Minutes with the Bottle’.”

Your brows raised. “I can only imagine what that game is.”

“It’s seven minutes in heaven mixed with spin the bottle,” Atsumu explained, as if you weren’t being sarcastic in the first place. You didn’t chastise him for it, you just smiled and cursed yourself when your chest went warm at his honest and eager grin. “Come play!”

“I’m not sure.”

“Please? It’s fun, I promise—one round, ‘kay?”

You don’t wanna say you felt some pressure, but you sort of did; Atsumu has the type of eyes that beg you no matter what he’s thinking, slightly squinted at the corners and a gleaming brown. You caved quicker than you’d like to admit.

(Atsumu says today that he was begging you, because he had hoped that damn bottle would land on you every time he spun it, and he hoped you had a lucky hand.)

“Okay,” you said, relenting as you sat down in his old seat; he took the arm of the couch. “Sure.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

The game started fast, with each person taking a spin. It went around clockwise, each person twice as eager as the one before, amused by middle school games. Atsumu kept looking at you the whole time, kept stealing glances; you thought it was chance.

“My turn?” Atsumu asked, acting like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour counting down the seconds until it was his time to go. “Well, if ya insist.”

Atsumu reached out in the middle of the circle, taking the body of the bottle and spinning it, his lips pursing in anticipation. You didn’t even realize that the nose was pointing at you, you were so focused on the way every joint, muscle and vein waved beneath his skin. Golden skin.

“Oh,” he breathed, looking up to meet your eyes. He was pink under the Christmas lights that were strung across the room. “You.”

“Oh,” you mimicked. “We don’t have to.”

“Screw that!” the person beside you said. “Play the game, guys.”

“We’re just friends, though—“

“Are you related?”

“What? Christ, no, do we look related—?”

“Get in the closet, Atsumu.”

You rest a hand on his arm, which Atsumu thought would be the end of him for sure, but you told him something far more dangerous: “It’s okay, let’s just do it.”

Atsumu wasn’t sure you knew what you were doing, which was confirmed when the two of you found your way into the dark, humid closet and shut the door, a phone with a timer sitting in between you; you told him you two could talk.

“Yes,” he said as a cover, nodding as if he wasn’t just thinking about how close you sounded — he hated that he couldn’t really see you, he told you a year later. He wanted to see you. “We should. We can.”

“Okay.”

“…Do you like the party?”

“I can’t talk,” he admitted.

Silence filled the small space, the dim glow of the screen telling you it’d only been thirty seconds. It felt more like thirty minutes—you could hear Atsumu breathing.

You cleared your throat. “You…can’t?”

“What if we just — what if we tried? To kiss, I mean. Just so we don’t walk out like pussies, y’know? Like, just to say we did it. Or we could say we did—“

“Or we can tell them it’s none of their business what we did.”

You remember muffling the laughter under your breath when you heard him begin to backtrack, almost able to watch him nod. “Oh, for sure. Duh. Let’s do that.”

“Atsumu,”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Kiss?”

“Yeah,” you told him. “We’ll make fun of ourselves later. Let’s just—“

And suddenly, you were not just you, but you were you and him.

He was in front of you, like he crawled to get there, a hand holding him up and the other on the back of your neck. You knew that Atsumu was a ‘good kisser’, some of your old classmates could attest to that — but nothing beats when it’s real.

You knew his hands, the lines of his palms, the rough pads of his fingers; but you didn’t know them when he threaded his fingers through your hair, inching closer to you. You knew his lips (he never shut up, he still doesn’t) but not when he kissed you like he did — you’d never seen him willingly stay silent until that point.

(To this day, Atsumu brags about how he swept you away with your first kiss. You deny it every time.)

Atsumu moved closer, enough to stay in front of you without the support of his hand, and he moved it to your hip. His thumb smoothed over your skin, staying right where it was, content with just breathing you in until—

The phone on the ground went off, a shitty ringtone blaring through the closet as Atsumu pulled back, giving you your space back as he scrambled to shut it off. And once it was, it was just the two of you again, breathing somehow.

Atsumu spoke first. “So.”

“So.”

“What—how was it? Like, was that bad? I didn’t think it was bad, well—it wasn’t awful.”

You were glad that it was dark, because he wasn’t able to see how flushed you were. He was glad you couldn’t see him, either.

“Yeah, it was alright.”

“Yeah, totally.”

It was unreal. So unreal that, even after leaving the party and that stupid game, you and Atsumu kept doing it. Because friends can sometimes make good kisses, you guess.

(“How was that?” the guy from earlier, the one who sat beside you asked, his brows raised. You sat down beside Atsumu again.

“We just talked.”

“Yeah, we just talked.”

“Okay…lame. Who’s next?”)

You and Atsumu have been together for five years now.

A week after the party, Atsumu banged on your dorm room door and kissed you so hard that it knocked the wind out of you. Two weeks later, he went home and told his friends that he did it — he finally asked you out, and the years of their pestering had finally done something.

(“Jesus, ‘Tsumu, way to drag it out.”

“Is that all ya have to say?”

“Well? You’re slow.”)

Regardless, life has been better since the party. You kept your best friend, but you unlocked new benefits — and the benefits just keep getting better.

But, your real favourite part about being Atsumu’s girlfriend, is having a guaranteed invite to the annual Miya's Thanksgiving dinner — where you get their mom’s signature dishes and snack onigiri made from a professional.

Laying in Atsumu’s bed, the one he used to give you when you were twelve, you sit with your laptop perched on his nightstand, watching a movie as you wait patiently for him and Osamu to get back from the store. He begged you to go with them, but there was no way you were going out in the cold of November if you had the option to stay swaddled up in one of his blankets.

Plus, Osamu teased him so he stopped.

(“Wow, you can’t be separated for more than twenty minutes. How nauseating.”

“Wh—? Okay, fine. Bye! See ya in a bit, doll!”)

The movie’s about halfway done, people walk their dogs along the sidewalk outdoors. Your parents don’t live across the street anymore, but the house hasn’t changed — the paint is still the same and you can see the subtle chip in the doorframe. It brings memories back, ones you can hardly believe because of where you’re at now.

To think that your now-boyfriend (boyfriend, what a crazy word) was the boy that you offered a waffle to when you were kids feels surreal. Atsumu once was the boy you’d ignore and when you were mad until he showed up knocking at your window; now, he is the one you kiss before you go to sleep. You share a bed. You picked your side first.

The movie begins to lag and you groan, hurriedly clicking your space bar and cursing it when it doesn’t do anything. You shut the laptop, instead just heading to the kitchen.

Because if you can’t watch a movie, you might as well steal some of the food prep Osamu made, knowing he made extra because he knew you’d steal some.

When you get there, you check through the fridge first — most of the food there is for Thanksgiving, the things you wouldn’t dare eat yet. Normally Osamu has food prep going, yes, but you also forgot that the whole reason he and Atsumu went out is because he had nothing to make the said prep with.

So, you sigh, defeated.

Shutting the fridge, you pause, pursing your lips and looking up to the far left cabinet over where you stand. Few people in the world know what glory lies behind that door; you are one of them.

Much taller and much more sure of yourself, you climb up onto the kitchen counter, reaching up to the cabinet and opening the door. Nothing has changed since you were young, so it seems, because there are still boxes on boxes of chocolate hidden over the fridge, even is no longer anyone to hide it from.

(Well, maybe you need it hidden.)

You grab the first box you see, the only one that’s opened out of the stash, and carefully make your way back down to the ground. You quietly return the stool back to its original place, looking up when the door opens and the twins enter with bags in hand.

“Hey!” you greet with a smile, watching them enter with rosy cheeks and exhausted looks. “How was it?”

Osamu scoffs a bitter laugh. “How do you think a grocery store is two days before Thanksgiving?”

You snicker. “Okay, point proven.”

Atsumu sighs a breath of relief, unzipping his jacket and tossing it over one of the stools as he goes to get around the island — probably to kiss you, or something. He’s like that.

But he watches you reach for the box of chocolates, and for a passing moment, he chuckles.

Then, he turns white as a ghost.

“Stop!” he shouts, making you jump as you pause with the box. “Don’t open that,”

“Huh? It’s already open.”

“No, I mean — can I see that?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No way, I got it first.”

“C’mon, there’s like eighty bars in there. You’re not gonna have all eighty.”

“Watch me,” you taunt, nodding to Osamu. “You both are too stressed out about dinner. I think we all deserve a chocolate bar, don’t we?”

Atsumu takes a step toward you. “Wait, don’t—!”

You shake the box gently, dumping out a pile of them as you look through the kinds, wondering which one you’ll have. There’s the basics, the classics, some special Halloween editions.

Something else catches your eye.

A small, black velvet box rests on the island in the puddle of sugar, and you furrow your eyebrows at it in suspicion.

“Holy fuck,” Atsumu whispers to himself. You don’t hear him.

You pick it up, looking it over. “Woah, that’s new. We must’ve got a special box or something.”

Osamu narrows his eyes, glancing at Atsumu before walking over to get a closer look. “What do you mean ‘special box’?”

“Like a special edition, or something. They probably gave out costume rings in some of the—“

You open the box, and a hand flies up over your mouth as you set the box right back down on the counter. You may be confused, but one thing is for sure; that’s not a costume ring.

It gleams under the overhead lights, and Osamu’s eyes are wide. You freeze, not really sure of what you just uncovered, until you look at your boyfriend.

Until you look at your boyfriend, and he doesn’t look shocked at all.

“‘Tsumu, why do you look like this isn’t crazy?” you ask, eyes wide as he just leans on the island, dropping his head in defeat. “Atsumu?”

Osamu glances between the two of you, before it clicks in his head and he’s taking a step back, his hands on his hips.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles.

Atsumu sighs, standing up straight again, and turning to you with a lopsided, barely-there grin.

“It’s not crazy to me,” he tells you, “because I know where the ring came from.”

“What? Where?”

Atsumu smiles weakly. “I bought it.”

Your eyebrows furrow, glancing back to the absolute diamond on the counter, your head tilting as it practically blinds you where you stand. Osamu stands off to the side with a dumb smile on his face, and you just look between them.

“You bought it?”

“Yeah.”

“For—,” Holy fuck.

Your hands fly up to clasp over your mouth, your eyes going wide before they go glassy; you watch Atsumu through a layer of water as he slowly takes the box from the counter, turning towards you again.

Atsumu huffs. “It was supposed to be later,”

“Atsumu!”

“Shoulda known you’d go rummaging back through that cupboard.”

( Osamu chimes in: “Wait, you guys found that?” )

“Atsumu,” is all you can say. Words feel foreign.

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna re-do it, okay? That works, right?”

“Yeah, yeah! Right?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He glances up to that stupid fucking cupboard, slowly dropping to one knee as his eyes well — just because it wouldn’t have been fair if you were the only one who cried. He kneels on the very spot he once held you up on top of the counter, making sure you didn’t fall.

“Back when we were thieves, we kinda swore we’d be partners in crime,” he starts, and it makes you choke out a laugh. “I know neither of us ever failed to keep our end of the bargain, and I know that promises don’t need nothin’ to seal them and yadah-yadah-yadah…”

Atsumu takes the ring out of the box, looking back up to you.

“I wanted something to say ‘forever.’ This ain’t bad, no?”

You sniffle, shaking your head with a laugh of disbelief. The tears come faster than you can stop them.

You cross your arms. “Did you steal this, too?”

He nods, grinning ear-to-ear. “Yeah, so you’re gonna need to answer a question for me before I get put in the slammer.”

“That means we’re gonna have a jail ceremony.”

“Welp, that’s what happens to thieves.”

Atsumu sighs shakily, taking your hand in his; he runs his thumb over the knuckle of your ring finger, his eyes softening as he holds you. His eyes are brown, but it is not just him, twenty-something and the love of your life.

It’s him, twelve or so years old and making sure you don’t fall off the counter in the middle of the night.

“I have to actually say it for it count, right?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Okay, okay. Y/N,”

“Atsumu.”

He takes a breath. “Will you mar—“

You don’t wait for him to finish. Instead, you lunge forwards, dropping to your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck, stealing the air right out of his lungs before he could even finish his sentence.

He’s not mad about it, either. He smiles against your lips.

You’ll be stealing from him for the rest of your life, and he’s pretty okay with that.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #kit writes

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