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softquietsteadylove · 3 months

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Hey. Had this idea of Thena being a billionaire and Gil being her private chef on her private little beach house in the Hamptons!

Maybe you can do something with that? 😊

Gil smiled as he plated the perfect omelette, gleaming yellow, nice loose scramble in the middle with a pristine outside. He sprinkled on some green onion for garnish; Thena acted like she didn't care about presentation but he knew she liked it when her food looked nice.

Thena was...interesting. She could be hard to read, maybe. He had been in the private cooking business for a while, and he'd had a variety of clients. But no one like Thena.

Thena had this old family house, basically a castle, way out here in the Hamptons--as antisocial as possible. She was in charge of her family's generational wealth, he was pretty sure they did business with historical...stuff. Or something.

Thena didn't talk much. The first time he interviewed for the position with her in the room he wasn't even sure if she spoke English. But her assistant - a very sweet man named Karun - assured him that 'the Madame' was perfectly nice. Just not to bother her.

But Karun was right: Thena was nice. Sure, she didn't exactly make small talk with him while she was eating or anything. But she had a nice smile, she was prompt with money, both for his pay and for any of the ingredients he needed. He always had transportation home, or he had a room ready for him if he was staying for a whole weekend.

Gil put the plate on a place mat at the opposite counter top. Thena liked eating in the kitchen instead of the cavernous dining room. She ate a a French style omelette, or if she was feeling adventurous, maybe a frittata, or he had even prepared omurice for her once. She liked fresh pressed grapefruit juice with a little natural sweetener in it. And berries picked from the gardens.

And he liked to add a little flower if there were any blooming on the strawberry plants while he was out picking.

Thena came in through the patio. She had already done her morning routine, then. A light workout, a shower, maybe a sauna. Her phone was in her hand but she famously didn't accept anyone speaking to her before 9 in the morning. She smiled and nodded to him as she took her seat.

She was in a good mood.

Gil turned around, carefully transporting the gold rimmed cup with his best cappuccino yet. He had even looked up how to make latte art to make a heart design in it.

Thena blinked, surprised as it slid into her view. She looked up at him.

He just nodded, encouraging her to take a sip.

She raised an eyebrow but did so. Usually he waited for her to ask for a specific coffee, since it could vary largely depending on the morning.

He shrugged; something about how beautiful the sunrise was had told him she would want something fun. It wasn't sunday, so she wouldn't want something as filling as a latte. But she only drank black coffee when she was already in a bad mood. Actually, now that he thought about it he ought to get more vanilla soy milk.

Thena sighed at her first sip, her shoulders lowering as she let the hot beverage soak into her. She really was in a good mood.

Gil just chuckled, keeping his comments to himself. He had come to respect the serenity Thena created for herself in the early mornings. He turned again to clear his dishes and fill the dishwasher.

He had to get soy milk, and a few other general weekend groceries. And he needed to get ingredients for a recipe he saw online, essentially a lemon cake tiramisu. Thena liked zingy, fresh flavours, and she enjoyed having something sweet on hand for if a craving hit her out of nowhere or after a hard day.

"It's perfect."

He tried to conceal the surprise he was feeling. But he couldn't help it; Thena had almost never commented on anything he made her, unless it was a brief line attached in an email. He turned, "y-yeah?"

She nodded.

He pursed his lips faintly. Back to silence--okay, sure. He peeked in the fridge to examine what else they had and what he needed. When he had asked Karun what Thena liked to keep on hand, he had merely stated that Thena was so bad at cooking, and so selective about food, that if left to her own devices she would probably just eat raw fruit forever.

"How did you know?"

He grinned. So, he was making progress! He had tried more actively in the beginning to get her to warm up to him. But he had come to accept that Thena didn't withhold her words deliberately. Still, he liked it when she did talk. "Just thought you'd be in the mood for it."

She raised her eyebrows at him from behind the cup being tipped up to her lips again.

He closed the fridge and moved back to the counter. "It's nice and mild out this morning, so I think you should have slept well. Stocks are looking good and you don't have to travel this weekend, right? I figured you would want something a little fun."

Thena smiled through his explanation. Maybe some of his observations of her would be a little much to some. But she nodded, looking down into her cappuccino, one leg bent and resting on her cushioned stool. "I assumed you would prefer when I travel?"

Gil blinked.

She set the mug down, as if this were a very important business meeting. "If I'm here, you don't get the weekend off. Or at the very least, you have plenty of work to do before hand."

"I don't mind," he shrugged easily. It was part of the job, and as far as clients went, Thena really wasn't all that demanding. She wasn't even that high maintenance, all things considered.

Food was easy to procure, either grown here or paid for out of her pocket. The only real stipulations of what he made was that she had to eat it. Karun was kind of like a worrisome father in that way. He had added specifically that she needed more vegetables, and that meant it was up to Gil to make them in such a way that Thena would actually like them.

"Do you ever think you may be too agreeable?"

"Hm," Gil ran his hand over his chin (he needed to shave). "I think it's more like...part of the job, y'know?"

"Hm."

Gil blinked at the new tone of the sound. She looked back at her breakfast. She sounded almost...disappointed. Disheartened, and now poking at her omelette like a dejected little kid. Gil leaned off the further counter and moved closer to her. "I just...wanted to do something kind of special for you."

She peeked up at him. She was awfully cute for some zillionaire old money type. Her hair was nice and soft from being gently blow dried, she didn't have any makeup on, fresh from the shower. Maybe all rich people were really, really pretty.

"You're not contractually obligated to be thoughtful," she smiled as she said it, but he got the impression that she didn't fully believe in her own joke.

He shrugged again, pushing the little flower closer to her, "call it my signature, then. Every chef has their own style--I like being a little sweet."

Thena smiled at the little white strawberry flower. She even reached out to it, but just barely let her fingers brush its soft petals, as if she would make it burst into flame. "Quite."

Gil inhaled, feeling better now that she was smiling again. She looked up at him, the sun behind her, making her hair glow. He blushed.

"Thank you, Gilgamesh."

He laughed faintly, feeling shy as she turned those siren eyes on him. He leaned back from the counter, sticking his hands in his apron pockets. "Hey, it's my pleasure, really."

"If you have shopping to do, Karun will call for a car for you," she added as he started slowly slipping - stumbling - out of the kitchen.

"Th-Thanks!" Gil squeaked out before reaching the hallway. He pulled his apron off and gripped it on his way to take it to the laundry room.

"You require transport, sir!"

Gil jumped at the sudden appearance of the man in question. "God, man, can't you walk a little louder!"

"My apologies, sir," Karun just chuckled. "The Madame walks lightly--as do I."

Thena walked around like a cat. She was silent, graceful, long legs...

"Sir?"

Fuck. Gil nodded, twisting his apron in his hands. He tilted his head as Karun shuffled closer, even waving him down so he could share something secretive.

"Excellent choice with the cappuccino, sir," he disclosed with glee. "The Madame has been trying to strike up a conversation with you for some time. I believe this was the perfect-"

"Karun!"

"I must go," he waved to Gilgamesh before dashing off to see to Thena's needs.

Gil felt a little stunned. It sounded like Karun was telling him that Thena had been wanting to talk with him. But that didn't seem right. Of all the times he had tried to chat with her, she had never bit, even once. And he didn't really think of her as the shy type.

He sighed, shrugging it off. He had groceries to get, anyway. Maybe he would try talking with her again, later.

#Thenamesh AU #yesss this is a super cute request!#thank you so much love!#Thena is this quiet and reserved lady of course #she does business either in her office or she goes to the city for it #she doesn't drive and Gil would usually just bike places #he was a little unused to sitting in the back of a car all the time #but it's a great way to get all the groceries he needs #Karun is like a meddlesome dad #he knows his daughter has a crush on her new chef but #let's face it #Thena has negative socialisation skills in this #she went to boarding schools and etiquette lessons #she doesn't know how to...chat #so she tries to think of something to say to Gil every morning #but he's so good at respecting that she likes it quiet #too good at it #sometimes he'll say something and she'll reply #statement and statement #and then later she scolds herself for not realising he was trying to just talk to her like a normal person #poor dear #Karun nearly tipping Gil off that it took everything in her to ask about the cappuccino this morning #and she's like DAD get in here!!!#Karun is doing the w o r k #Thenamesh Hamptons AU

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sometimesanalice · 10 months

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Leave a Light On

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all!)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s.

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy.

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he’d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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

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raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

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Bentley Shenanigans (Good Omens)

Crowley x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Crowley needs to relieve some frustrations after that shitshow of a birthday party.

CW: vaginal sex, fingering, dirty talk, car sex, vague degradation/humiliation

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

This was possibly one of the most shocking things you had ever seen. Crowley was wearing white. You’d never seen him in anything other than black and when he’d first come to pick you up after the birthday party, you had known something was different, but couldn’t pick what it was. It had actually taken you at least two solid minutes to realise that it was because he was wearing white.

“What the fuck- you’re- what are you wearing?”

Crowley glances at you as he pulls into the parking spot at the lookout trail and turns the car off. Sometimes the two of you came out here just to get away.

“What- this old thing?” He chuckles, tossing his sunglasses onto the dash before sighing defeatedly. Oh dear, it wasn’t a good sign if he could barely keep his sultry demeanour going.

“I think,” he trailed off. “It is safe to say… that did not go as well as I hoped it would.”

You’re not really sure what to make of that, given that the balance of the world as you knew it hung squarely on Crowley and Aziraphale’s shoulders. Sitting quietly, you wait for Crowley to continue.

“I mean, really- you wouldn’t have thought it would be that hard, would you? Fucking nuns, Pet. Useless, the lot of them.”

Crowley pinches his nose and turns toward you, eyeing you up and down. Your dress has ridden up your thighs and you do not fail to notice the way he eyes you appreciatively.

“Fancy a quick fuck?” He asks casually. You splutter on a response for a moment. Here you were, discussing how the end of the world was fast approaching in less than a week, and Crowley wanted to shag? You blinked at him. That wasn’t to say you weren’t interested, either, mind you. You definitely were, but, it was just a bit out of the blue was all. What did that say about you, you wondered… In the face of the end of the world, you’re thinking about getting fucked one more time. Hmm. On second thoughts, you think it might just mean that you appreciate the fun things in life.

“Sure,” you say, cheeks pinking at the thought of him in that white coat bending you over and taking out his frustrations on you. “One condition, though.” Crowley’s brow arches, a sultry smirk appearing on his face. “The coat stays.”

“Your wish is my command, love,” he replied. “Back seat, then?”

You nod, shocked at the casual nature of this exchange. It wasn’t something you were necessarily unused to, but there was usually a little more pent-up energy and flirting beforehand. However, getting straight to it wasn’t a bad thing either. It was kind of refreshing, actually.

You get out of the car and go around to the driver's side. Crowley opens the back door for you and promptly bends you over into the back of the car. You gasp, your hands reaching out to steady you on the leather seats.

Crowley slides his hand up your sundress, exposing your black panties to him. He groans, gripping at your ass before letting go and giving it a rough slap. You jolt forward with the shock. Crowley tuts and grips you by the hips to drag you back towards him.

His hips ground against your ass roughly, his cock hardening beneath his pants. You bit your lip, enjoying the roughness of his clothes against your almost bare skin. Crowley laughed, reaching down to rip your panties off you. You let out a sound of protest, though Crowley shushed you.

“Fix ‘em later, promise,” he assured you before tossing the ripped remains of your underwear over your head and into the other door. Any further protests died before they even formed thought as his fingers slid down over the curve of your ass and sunk themselves into your tight, wet heat.

You moaned, thighs twitching as he fingered you open. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now.

Crowley removed the fingers once he thought you were wet enough and presented them to you to clean off. You did so without complaint or question, sucking his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling over the digits to clean them of your slick.

Crowley grunted, the other hand undoing his pants and removing his cock from its confines. Once he was free, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your cheek a little pat. The feel of the saliva cooling on your skin- the dirtiness of it- had you clenching.

“Look at that,” he groaned, pressing his head against your entrance. “Sopping for me, aren’t you? Filthy thing, you are, Pet.”

You nodded, pressing back against him. His head slipped inside, causing you both to groan. You with impatience, and he with pleasure. Crowley’s fingers gripped at your hips harshly as he slowly sunk inside you. Once he was finally inside you, you were finally able to relax. Feeling so full up on his cock felt like your version of Heaven.

God, Crowley made you so cock-drunk that it was ridiculous.

Then, your Demon started to move, hips snapping back and forth with fervour. It wasn’t long before Crowley was bent over you, yanking your hips into his own with every thrust. You were scrabbling at the leather, cheek sticking to the seat with the sweat. Loud moans and sharp grunts could be heard coming from the car, and you hoped that no one was on this particular walking trail today.

Then again, maybe you’d like an audience. The thought had you biting your lip to stifle the groan, and you clenched around the Demon, who straightened up and wrapped a hand into your hair.

“Fuck, that’s it-” he growled, fucking into you harder. “Reach down there and play with that pretty clit for me, Pet. Mm- like that.”

Your fingers reached your clit, rubbing tight circles. You could feel the push and pull of his cock from within you, could feel as your slick creamed around him. You cried out in sharp pleasure as he slapped your ass cheek again.

“Are you going to cum already, Pet? Huh?”

You nodded, the motion pulling at your hair just that little bit more. Crowley laughed loudly, fucking into you harder.

“Better do it then,” he warned. “Come on, cum for me, Pet.”

Your fingers were lightning quick on your clit. Your thighs were twitching and struggling to keep yourself up from Crowley’s punishing thrusts. With a loud drawn-out moan, you came.

Crashing waves of chaotic pleasure roiled inside you. Your fingers crushed themselves into the leather as you felt your release roll through your muscles. Your clit felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to concentrate hard enough to rub yourself through it, contracting around Crowley hard enough to make him cum.

He grunted from above you, hips stuttering- and then you felt it. His release coating your walls. You whined, grinding yourself back against him as he started to slow. Crowley gave your hip a warning squeeze, but you ground yourself back on him, pressing him in as far as you could to make sure not a drop of his seed escaped you.

You sighed with relief, fingers slowing to a stop on your clit. Crowley was hunched over you, panting with exertion.

You laughed, the endorphins starting to kick in. Crowley chuckled breathily against your back and pressed a kiss to the fabric of your dress.

“That was fun,” you said, unsticking your cheek from the seat.

“Mm-” Crowley grunted in response. “Aziraphale will be jealous.”

You don’t think you’re wrong in thinking he doesn’t seem all that upset about making the Angel jealous.

“I think you’re right,” you pant back, slowly starting to catch your breath now.

“Alright, come on,” he says, picking himself up and slowly pulling out of you, shushing you comfortingly when you whimper at the loss. “I know, Pet. Come on, let’s get you back to the Shop, eh? The Angel will be missing us by now.”

You groan and force yourself to stand up. Your walls clench to keep Crowley’s seed inside.

“Don’t miracle it away,” you say, knowing that Crowley was planning to do so for your ease of comfort. “You know how Zira likes his seconds.”

Crowley tutted at you, a smirk playing across his lips.

“Naughty thing, you are. Whatever are we going to do with you?”

You hop into the passenger side again, your muscles thanking you for the relief.

“Guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?”

“Guess so, love.”

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circe69 · 1 year

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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 - Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

narrative: you get kidnapped by graves, and ghost rescues you (in a very aggressive/sweet manner) warnings: violent, blood, injuries, kidnapping, manhandling tags: cleaning wounds, soft ghost, solving mysteries, being babied honestly, touching, sweet things amidst gore. a/n: as always, lmk if this is something you'd like a part two for! love you guys! part 2

A set of strong hands grabbed your two biceps and threw you to the ground, your body slamming against the wet pavement. You groaned in agony, blood soaking your ripped shirt around your sleeves, whilst your ears rang, and vision blurred. Someone leaned down, you weren't sure who, and pulled you up by your hair.

You screamed, "G- ugh, Get off of me!" Graves let a chuckle escape, making your stomach churn. "You tell whoever is unfortunate enough to pick up your rotting body that it was me who was merciful, letting you leave alive when you deserve nothing but a coffin too small for your corpse.”

He dropped your hair, making your head strike the ground.

"Let's go, boys. Oh, she'll be fine, grow a pair!" You heard his eager voice fade out and heavy boots walk away, followed by a metal door closing shut, the rust falling on the doormat.

All the sudden, you heard a flashlight click. It was quiet enough to almost be unheard, but your senses had been heightened, you were aware of everything.

"Who's there?" You whispered, not trying to. You tried to be as loud as you possibly could, but it wasn't until this moment you realized how scared you were of being caught.

No one answered, but you could feel someone's presence. You stumbled to your feet, bracing yourself on the side of an empty tank before standing up straight. "I know someone's there!" Nothing.

Sighing, you took a few more steps towards where you heard the click, almost hoping that someone was there listening to you. Your hand slid against the wet metal of the tank, and the other trying to locate where you were hurt the most and holding pressure to where you guessed.

A gun cocked. Your head turned in every direction, trying to see everything at once. I'm about to die, you thought. This was the end. There was nothing else for you to do but accept that you would never see any of your family again, none of your friends.

You walked a little more, almost giving yourself up to whoever it was, and you almost turned back around to hide in the unused tank before wet arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a wall of a body.

Your screams filled the air, harsh groans were coming from the person behind you in response to your thrashing. "Put. Me. Down!" Kicking your legs in any way you could, but it didn't do anything. "Calm down, woman, I'm not gonna hurt you." The body turned around and started jogging towards a running vehicle. There was a man in the front, one you didn't recognize, but before you could scream anything else, you were thrown into the back of the car, and a huge man followed you. Your body hit a leather seat, and he was positioned in front of you, buckling your seatbelt as if you were a helpless child.

"Got her, Johnny. Move out," the man trapping you in a seat said. He said the terrifying sentence with gauze between his teeth, ripping a few long pieces off of a large roll and setting it back in the console. The driver wasted no time in throwing the gear in reverse at his command, and the dog tags on the rearview mirror jangled against themselves as he slammed on the gas.

You couldn't breathe, your head was spinning, and you weren't sure if it was from the loss of blood or sudden fear that you were going to die.

The man sitting in front of you was wearing a few things you deemed as strange: a cream skull-face mask on top of a black linen face covering. His vests and gear were anything but simple, you feared if he'd move the wrong way, he'd set off a bomb somewhere.

His hand reached up to turn on the dinky car light as the driver took a harsh turn. "Could you drive a little slower, mate?" His voice was aggressive, too deep for his own good. It was a weapon in and of itself. Orders that he made were automatically wishes that had to come true.

"Ghost," he said while opening up a few bandages and uncapping a tube of disinfectant, not even looking up at you. "Crazy man in the front is Soap."

You felt tears brew in your eyes as he talked to you in such a casual manner. There was no underlying threat in his words, even as scary as he was. A few heavy droplets slipped and audibly landed on your seatbelt, causing Ghost to look up at you.

Once he saw you crying, he sighed, not out of exhaustion or annoyance, but of something else. You weren’t sure what he was feeling, or why he did things he did. You weren’t sure anyone ever knew. He reached his gloved hand up and turned off the light, continuing to work in the dark. He'd be cursed for the rest of his life if he had to watch you cry.

A woman he'd never met, never even known existed, until that very afternoon.

"Sit down, men." Price said from the corner of the room, uncrossing his arms and walking away from his stance against the wall. "We've got places to be, people to save, Graves to fill." A few young newbies snickered at his joke; the rest stayed quiet. The captain circled the large table, passing out beige files and black masks to everyone sitting down. "Kate, the TV, please." Laswell clicked a black remote, pointing it at a flat screen and waited for a picture to pop up.

A young women appeared, maybe early 20's. Mid-length hair with eyes that could kill. Her license picture, as intimidating as you'd think it be to look into the eyes of a missing woman, it wasn't at all.

Her smile was beautiful, completely clueless at what the terrible world had to offer. What the terrible world had become. She was nothing but happy, just happy to be wherever. No one said anything, but they were all lost in the picture, not sure if what they were feeling was frustration or admiration.

"This is Y/N L/N." Price cleared his throat before continuing, "I used to work with her father, he's a good man. I owe him my life; I'd give him anything."

He made his way to the head of the round table, "Y/N's missing. He's given us the substantial responsibility of finding her."

Gaz spoke up after raising his hand for a few seconds, "Do we know where she is?"

"Well, where do we always find ourselves treading off to when we get any sort of call?" Price said in a sarcastic tone, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Graves." Ghost and Soap spoke in unison, the man in the ghost mask cleaning his knife off with a dirty rag, and the one in with the mohawk stirring some sugar into a mug of tea.

Laswell and Price nodded in agreement to their guess, and everyone else sighed audibly, some out of relief and others in annoyance. Graves was never the best option, but lately it's been seeming like the only option. Soap stood up from his seat, groaning as he scooted his seat in. "Well? Let's get on it."

"You'll be fine, luv. Swear it." Ghost said to you as he trailed his fingers along your head gash, feeling for the cut before using his other hand to pour isopropyl on a cotton round. He suddenly remembered the picture from earlier, the innocent face that's now bloody and bruised thanks to one of the men he's spent years trying to destroy.

"It'll sting," he whispered, and Soap in the front seat breathed through his teeth sharp. "Ooh, I know that smell. That's the smell of pain." You felt your mouth upturn slightly, inhaling the rubbing alcohol as well and leaning into the childhood memories that rushed into your brain. Ones of you falling down on the playground, scraping your elbow on the asphalt and running towards the nearest teacher.

"You okay?" Ghost checked in as he stuck a bandage on your head, and you hummed in response, taking a deep breath in as you leaned back on your head rest. "There she is," Soap said while looking in the rearview mirror.

Arriving back at the base, you felt your eyes droop open and closed, feeling comforted at the feeling of Ghost's thumb rubbing against the side of your jeans, trying to nurse you back to health to the best of his ability. Soap parked the car, slowly pressing on the brake to appease Ghost's previous request.

"You got her, Simon?" Soap asked as he took the key out of the ignition and quietly grabbing his backpack from the front seat. Ghost grunted in approval, and waited till Soap got out of car and shut the door before figuring out what to do with your tired body.

"Should I carry you?" He whispered, bracing himself on the armrest of your seat and bringing the other hand up to the side of your face, balancing your head on his palm as you tried not to fall asleep. You whined in response, not truly being conscious enough to reply properly. "Right then," Ghost said, looking around for things to clean up before heading up to the base.

He got out of the car first, jumping down onto the gravel and reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt. "Let's go, Y/N."

"You know my name?" You said sleepily as he picked you up with an arm underneath your legs and the other wrapped around your waist, squeezing gently to signal you jump into his arms.

"Course I do, you've been the talk of the town lately."

"Wow." Rubbing your eyes sleepily, it caused Ghost to look down at your in his arms, distracting him altogether from his mission. All the sudden, your waterline started to fill with tears.

"What, what is it?"

"I couldn't even fight back." You started to cry, your eyes pouring out on your face, something Ghost tried so hard not to watch but had to.

"It's alright, bug, not many of us can get a rile out of Graves anyway, that's reason enough for an award."

You chuckled at the sentiment, and at the fact that he cared enough to attempt to cheer you up. Even if his humor was the corniest you'd ever been around, it was enough to lift your moods a little bit.

As he walked you into the base, a cold chill hit your bare arm, you felt the dried blood crackle as you shifted. "Brr, am I right?" Ghost tried once again to make you crack a smile, walking you into the closest guest room. It was a quaint area, just one cot with a few cream-colored sheets and a dusty quilt that someone had definitely donated from years past. There was only one overhead light, and after Ghost gently set you down on the bed, he walked over to flip the switch.

“This okay? Is your head hurting you?” He asked considerately, walking back over to look into your pupils, making sure you weren’t concussed. “Not too bad,” you responded, rubbing a dry hand on your face, and pulling it back only to find it was covered in blood. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned at the sight, feeling ill knowing there was still remnants of your attack.

“You’re still quite bloody, I couldn’t see very well in the dark car, but someone else will-.”

“You could’ve kept the light on,” you interrupted him, sitting up slightly and leaning your head on the metal bed frame.

“What?” Ghost whispered, knowing good and well what you were implying, but not wanting to act it.

“You turned the light off, in the car, but you could’ve kept it on to see me better. Why didn’t you?”

He exhaled, slightly clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I know, I- I just couldn’t-" He paused to regain control over his stuttering, “I hated seeing you cry.”

Ghost walked over to a small sink, turning one of the knobs and dampening a rag before walking back over to you. He stopped a few paces in front of your bed, just to stare at you. The entirety of your body, nothing left unscathed. Your jeans were torn to shreds, red liquid lacing every stitch. The shirt you wore was drenched in rain and blood, and it ripped in the front, allowing cleavage to poke through, making Ghost’s eyes close abruptly when he saw it.

“You don’t even know me, Ghost, why would it bother you so much?” You adjusted yourself so your legs hung off the side of the bed, your shoulder facing where Ghost stood. “I know, but, I know of you.”

He continued, “Your father, he worked with Price, yeah? Price said your pops gave him the job of finding you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, but before you could say anything, you were interrupted.

“Oi, Lieutenant, you’re needed. Price says it’s an emergency.” An unfamiliar voice yelled from the hallway, before a few loud knocks at the door.

“I’m takin care of the girl, Gaz,-"

“Nope, Price said now.”

He frustratedly stood up, tapping his foot a few times before turning to you again.

You spoke first, “It’s fine, really, someone else will come along and clean me up.”

Ghost nodded, crossing his arms across his chest. “You sure?” You nodded your head as well in response, knowing that he wasn’t just some soldier, he was Ghost, a Lieutenant, a leader.

A killer.

“I’ll be back in the mornin, I swear it. With coffee and everything.” With that, Ghost left the room, his large boots and velcro straps with keychains hanging from them rattling and filling the room before fading out.

You were terrified, there was no other way to put it. And at this point, could anyone even be trusted? Sure, Ghost seemed nice enough, he wasted his time to tend to you, and Soap was eager to help as well, but it all seemed too strange, too strategic. How was Graves connected to the 141 Task Force? Why had Ghost mentioned they had been affiliated before?

You pulled out a locket from underneath your shirt, a small medallion that would be worth thousands if you had offered it to a trader, but the thought never crossed your mind. Inside was a picture of your father, someone you hadn’t seen in years. How in the world would he know you’d gotten kidnapped? He wasn’t even in the same country, let alone care enough to keep tabs on you. He was a terrible man, someone you told yourself and many others to stay away from. There had to be something else going on, something beneath the surface and even if Ghost didn’t know of it, he was still a part of it.

As much as you didn’t want to trust Ghost, you feared he was all you could lean on. You promised yourself once he’d get back in the morning, you’d discuss it with him; how Price talked to your father, and if it was even your father he was talking to? Hopefully, he'd have the answers, and if not, you'd at least have someone to talk to.

Plus, it didn't hurt how attractive he was.

#ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #modern warfare #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #circe69scribbles

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meiluu · 11 months

Text

Stray

Leon S. Kennedy/ Reader (No gendered terms used)

summary: you find a stray cat, and you and Leon decide to make it a member of your small family.

cw: animal abandonment, FLUFF.

*this is a vent post, to give a little backstory on this. Me and my family have been feeding a stray cat for awhile now, and recently he came back to our house after going on an adventure, but looked extremely thin and hurt. We tried to fatten him up so that we could possibly trap him and get him help. But he was just too sick and sadly passed away in our flower bed yesterday. So this in memory of all the stray animals who never got the love that they deserved.*

“Love you, have a good day at work!” With a quick kiss you send Leon off to the D.S.O. Shutting the door to your shared house you head back inside to finish your morning routine. Eating breakfast, and getting yourself dressed, you get ready to head out to do some errands. Adjusting your hair into an easy clip you take a glance at the clock and then head out the door. The warm rays of the sun flow through you as you walk to your car, getting in you quickly find your playlist and start on your journey to your first stop.

Plopping back into your seat you take a moment to sit back and relax, having driven through the entire city completing your errands. Letting out a sigh of relief you are about to start your car when you hear a noise. stopping yourself, you sit for a second hoping to hear the sound again. Its faint but its unmistakable- it sounded like a meow. Quickly stepping out of your car you swiftly scan your surroundings hoping to spot where the sound was coming from. Following your ears you let your body guide you, walking a bit away from your car you realize you are headed towards the back of the store you were just in. reaching the back of the building your eyes catch onto a toppled over trash bag that's open. Your heart drops into your stomach at the sight, picking up your pace you near towards the bag. squatting down to peer inside, your eyes start to tear up at what you find.

Its a relatively small cat, a tortoiseshell, cowering into the bag as it meows in distress. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you get down onto your knees and tentatively begin reaching your hand out. "Hey, baby... can I get you out of there?" you know its stupid trying to talk to the cat but you cant stop yourself. The cat stops meowing as its eyes zero in on your hand, you release a breath as you slowly inch your hand closer towards it. Hope blooms within your chest seeing the cat not hissing at your hand. And with one last inch you have the cat within your gentle grasp, pulling it out of the bag the cat immediately clutches onto your shirt digging its claws into the fabric. Tears are beginning to gather at the sight of the cat shivering within your embrace. "Its ok, I've got you. le-lets get you home." choking up on the last few words you start making your way to your car.

Thankfully the drive to the pet store and back to your house was relatively quick, never having to stop or slow down for traffic. It was like the world knew you were on an important mission and helped you out. Quickly unloading all of your goods you work at a fast pace to unload all of the things you got for the cat along with the stuff you got while running errands. Setting up the little cat station in the unused guest bathroom, laying out a couple of towels and setting up everything a cat needed. Gently you go to set down the cat that had not once let up its grip ever since you picked it up- and it begins to meow and you immediately stop. "Hey its ok- I promise I'm not going to leave you but you need to be cleaned and you need to eat." petting down its back in an attempt to comfort it, slowly but surely it begins to relax again. But that comfort is halted at the sound of the front door opening and closing. A muffled 'I'm home.' rings throughout the house.

oh shit, you didn't tell Leon about your new friend. Making sure to keep your voice not too loud you tell him you’re in the guest bathroom. Might as well just ripe off the bandage instead of trying to hide it. Familiar footsteps make there way towards you, then the sound of the doorknob turning meets your ears. "What are you doing in-." Leon's words stop short as his eyes take in what's in front of him. "Ok I know this looks kind of bad but hear me out..." quickly rushing out your words. But as you go to explain your words trail off as you look at Leon's face, he is no longer looking at you but instead to the creature clinging onto you.

"Hello." His words are whispered towards the cat, and almost like it knew he was talking to it, it slowly raises its head catching onto Leon's gaze. Leon squats down to where you are sitting, and from there you tell him of how you found the cat. Once the story was finished you further explained how the cat wouldn't let go- and that you needed to clean it and also check on whether it was a girl or a boy, as calling the cat an 'it' was not going to workout in the long term.

And thankfully with the combined effort of you and Leon, you were both able to clean and feed the clingy ball of fluff, and you were able to see that it was a girl. After everything was all said and done, the cat had fallen asleep in a bundle of warm towels. Both you and Leon had now gotten comfortable on the tiled floor and were peacefully watching over the cat, taking a quick glance you feel your heart swell at the soft smile that painted Leon's face. "Should we keep her?" you were words are hushed- so as to not wake her. An incredulous look appears on Leon's face. "Are you really asking that question? Of course we are keeping her." a quiet giggle falls from your lips at Leon's hasty response. "Well you got any ideas on what we should name her?" a hum rumbles from within Leon's chest, a moment of contemplation then his face lights open and you can almost see a light bulb lighting up above his head. "How does June sound?"

"June. I like it, June Kennedy has a nice ring to it." a bright smile encompasses Leon's face at your acceptance. And with a name decided you've both now have a new addition to your family.

---

As the next few months fly by, June has slowly but surely warmed up to both yours and Leon's prescience. Although she is very skittish around the front door and gets easily spooked by loud noises, but overall she's been nothing but a sweet bundle of fur to have around. As the weather gets colder you start using the fireplace within your living room and it has become June’s favorite place to be.

Snow is gently falling outside your window, you are sat cuddled up with Leon surrounded by a plethora of blankets reveling in each others comforting prescience. The soft crackling of the fire is accompanied by the gentle music playing on the t.v. Just as sleepiness is about to overcome you and Leon you feel a weight upon your leg. Blinking your eyes open you spot June. "Hey June, you wanna cuddle.? you a get a soft trill in response and gently June climbs up into your lap, turning in circles a few times before she finally plops herself down and begins to make biscuits into the blanket. Leon having woken up from his light sleep reaches a hand over scratching behind her ears and under her chin. Slowly June's biscuit become more spaced out until she's completely asleep. Taking the message both you and Leon follow June into a warm and peaceful slumber.

found this pic on Pinterest, if anyone has the artists account message me so that I can credit them :)

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goldielia · 2 months

Text

you are in love

a part of: call it what you want au

it wasn’t the first loss since ally and will had started their, well, thing. it was the hardest, though. she could deal with frustrated will, knew to just let him rant and let his frustrations out until all he wanted was to be held. she didn’t know how to deal with him being sad.

she wasn’t sure who felt worse. will, who was playing and actively trying to turn the game around or herself, standing behind the bench surrounded by replacement sticks and having to watch without being able to do something.

after the game, ally had started packing up the sticks and unused equipment before lingering in the hallway in front of the locker room.

when she’d watched all the boys shuffle past with unhappy faces and she was sure nobody was in there anymore, she slipped inside to grab their sticks to bring back to boston

as usual she was the last back to the bus together with their coach and olivia, the girl who took care of the boston hockey instagram, who she’d become surface-level friends with.

usually all of them sat alone, the bus being big enough but as ally made her way through to the back, she felt a hand tug her to a stop. after a single glimpse into will’s eyes she didn’t hesitate to sit down in the seat next to him, letting him rest his head on her shoulder and fiddle with the ring on her right hand.

they’d never really interacted in public, keeping whatever this was to the confines of either her dorm, their cars or the corner of the library they had met in.

they’d agreed to not show this off, loving the intimate feeling of stolen glances and fleeting touches. the knowledge that the other would show up later tonight when they’d meet but nobody else knew that.

ally couldn’t bring herself to care right now though because she couldn’t stand seeing will this sad. she carefully tangled their fingers together to hold his hand before she shifted slightly to grab her phone and headphones with her other hand.

she placed one earbud into her ear, offering will the other. after she unlocked her phone and opened spotify, she handed her phone to him as well, not knowing quite yet what he wanted to hear to take his mind off of hockey as much as possible.

what she’d forgotten though was the playlist she made when she missed will a little more than anticipated. it contained songs that reminded her of him, songs he recommended to her or songs they had made memories to.

the cover was a picture of him she’d taken after one of his games, a win. the first win she wore his number under her hoodie for. he was leaning on his elbow on her desk with a lipstick stain on his cheek, smiling at her slightly.

he looked up at her with wide eyes, corners of lips curled up the tiniest bit, only seeing her smile at him nervously with flush cheeks. she watched him send the playlist to himself before he clicked on the first song, and gave her phone back.

they took a few seconds to settle, his head on her shoulder and hers resting on top of his. hands locked tightly together over their legs, will having curled his body as close to hers as possible, her other hand drawing little hearts on the back of his hand every now and then.

the four hour drive had the both of them distracted. will listened to her playlist with closed eyes, focusing fully on the songs she associated with him and the warm feeling in his chest that grew stronger with each line he related to her.

ally however was busy avoiding his teammates curious looks, watching the world fly by through the window.

she was sure they’d have to listen to days of teasing once they had coped with tonight’s loss and she was insanely grateful that all of them managed to keep their mouths shut when they were back in boston around 3 am.

after she smiled at will one last time, she grabbed their sticks and moved to bring them inside the facility to store everything away where it belonged, as she always did.

when she finished up and left, she already had her text to will drafted, asking if he wanted to see her or be alone. her thumb hovered over the send-button as she walked through the few cars to find her own with will leaning against it tiredly.

she slipped her phone into her pocket as she sped up her steps, walking right into wills space to wrap her arms around his neck and warm him from the november cold.

“why didn’t you say somethin’? would’ve given you my keys, don’t have to wait for me in the cold” she mumbled into his shoulder as his head dropped onto hers, face hiding in her puffer jacket and arms locked tightly around her waist.

she felt more than saw the shrug of his shoulders, raising one hand to reach through his hair, settling it on his jaw to lift his head up and look at his face. “ready to go home?”

they settled in the car seats, ally quickly starting the car up and connecting her phone to it. she couldn’t help but smile when will chose the same playlist they’d listened to on the bus right away.

will almost leaned against ally when she unlocked her dorm room, letting himself be guided inside by her gentle hands. they worked in tandem to take of jackets and shoes, put away bags and empty pockets.

“can we take a shower?” she almost missed will’s question because of his quiet voice. “of course, why don’t you go ahead and start and i’ll grab you a towel. be right there.” she smiled kindly, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek.

they’d done stuff before. not gone all the way but there’d been some fooling around. neither of them were up for any of that tonight though.

he couldn’t help but lean into her when she stepped into the shower and hugged herself right around his back.

he didn’t know how long they stood in the shower, holding each other close. she’d washed his hair at some point, gently working her hands through the golden locks and coating them in her lavender-scented shampoo.

she lathered his body in her shower wash thoroughly, kissing old and newly formed bruises in her way. when he stepped out of the shower and was instantly wrapped in a warm, soft, navy blue towel, he was certain he would fall asleep standing.

instead he let her gently dry his body and rub the towel over his hair a few times before he tugged on a new pair of boxers he apparently had left here once and one of her hoodies that was oversized enough to fit him.

she sent him to her bed like that, completely covered in her scent from shampoo and body wash to her hoodie that smelled like her.

she didn’t take long, presumably drying herself off and brushing her teeth before throwing on one of his shirts and quietly making her way to her bed.

he tugged her close to him in an instant, wrapping himself up in her arms and nuzzling his face into her neck. her hands found their way under his, her, hoodie to lightly scratch along his back.

she thought he’d fallen asleep three times before he shuffled around a little bit again, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. they ended up on their sides, facing each other so close their foreheads were mere centimeters apart.

“ally?” she hummed, signaling she was still awake. “you’re my best friend. like on this earth.” she brought her hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with her thumb when his hand came up to hold hers.

they both felt a slight shift in the atmosphere when her eyes found his in the dark. all that mattered was them. two college students in a tiny bed with so many feelings sparking when they touched.

leaning her forehead against his, breathing the same air for a moment, she gathered her courage and whispered “i love you, pretty boy. so much.”

he smiled, actually smiled, for the first time since they left the rink in maine a few hours ago, pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.

“i’m so in love with you, gorgeous”

#will smith hockey x oc #alaska argent #goldie's call it what you want au #will smith hockey #will smith hockey imagine #will smith hockey x reader

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cinnamon-girl-writes · 18 days

Text

kintsugi . . . wakasa x reader

meeting your ex-best friend at the park in the middle of the night was not on your bucket list, but hey, tis the season !

fluff, could be canonverse or real world, semi-canon compliant, don't ask me which timeline/arc this is because idfk this show is confusing

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

This was probably the worst Christmas Eve of your life. Not only had you broken up with your shitty ex-boyfriend two weeks ago, but you were alone in your stupid four person college-loaned apartment completely alone. You couldn't go home this year because you had to study for exams, this being your last year of college. School comes first, you reminded yourself as you were wishing you were at your family home, cuddled up and eating freshly baked cookies.

You gazed absentmindedly at the cheesy Christmas rom com movie on your TV. Your roomates had all gone home for the holidays, so you really had the whole place to yourself.

Bored out of your mind, you glanced around your bedroom, eyes landing on a poloroid from your junior year of high school. Three faces smiled back at you-- well, two smiling faces and one grimace.

In the middle was you, bubbling with excitement from whatever mischief you had been getting into. Your arm was slung around a boy to your right with messy black hair and his school uniform in shambles. He had a mischevious smile upon his face, and you tried to recall what he had been planning that day. Shinichiro.

You had attended his funeral less than a year ago. He had died in some stupid, pointless way; some of his little brother’s friends messing around in his shop after dark. Even now, the thought of him still stung.

The boy on your other side was a head shorter than Shinichiro, a strawberry blond with the stick of a lollipop between his teeth. Wakasa Imaushi, your other high school best friend. You hadn't spoken to him since graduation; you made excuses like, 'things happen' or, 'life just got busy.' But you knew the truth: your best friend had gotten in with the wrong crowd and decided he didn't need you anymore.

You'd llike to say that you've completely moved on from those relationships. I mean, who still talks to their high school friends? Aren't those things supposed to fade away once you grow up and get a job? Despite all this, you could still feel something lingering in your heart. Something that told you you felt more than just friendship for Wakasa. You decide to shake off the thought.

This was getting pathetic. You decided you weren't going to rot in this stupid apartment anymore, throwing on your coat over your flannel pajamas and heading out your door with only your phone and your car keys.

Shivering, you started your busted up Honda Civic, thanking the gods when it stuttered to life. You pulled out of the parking lot and found yourself leaving the university grounds. Hopefully no one saw you leave the campus and reported you, but you couldn't care less in that moment.

As you drove with seemingly no destination, memories flooded your mind. The yogurt shop where the boys has taken you for your 16th birthday. Shinichiro's home garage where you'd sit and watch him fix up bixes for hours on end.

Without warning, you come to a halt. You recognize the place that you see out the front windshield. It's our spot, you think.

"Spot" was a subjective term. Really, it didn't belong to you in any way other than the memories you held from it. The spot in question was the mouth of an old alleyway which was long forgotten and hardly ever got any traffic. To its left was the edge of the city park, and to its right was a lake separating the north and south sides of the city. Spray paint letters (some of which you were sure had been written by you) covered the walls in an impressive display. You still remembered where you used to always sit: by the coast of the water, a few feet back on top of a stack of unused cement blocks.

It took you a few moments to get out of your car. It was cold out, and your fingers were frozen to the bone, but you needed to get out of your room, and you decided this was the best way to do it.

You stepped outside, grimacing at how the car door creaked when you slammed it.

You swore you could feel ghosts in your chest as you traced your fingers along the cracks in the cement. Had those always been there? Or had the building decayed even more since your glory days? The structure had always had such a bright place in your mind that you considered the possibility that you had forgotten how bad of shape it was in.

You shivered, pulling your thin coat tighter around your shoulders. The yellow lights that lit the corridor flickered ever so slightly, bugs scattering around them in search of warmth. Suddenly, you hear a faint sound behind you.

Click. Then faster, quieter. Click click.

You whir around, assuming a defensive position. Unfortunetely, this wasn't your first time encountering creepy men in the park.

Swinging your arm, you threw a crisp right hook. It landed in the grasp of a person's hand, and you winced, expecting the worst.

"Hey! Calm down princess, it's just me."

It took you a few seconds to register the face in front of you. He looked different now, taller and broader. His hair was grown out past his shoudlers, still the stame strawberry blond color but with streaks of purple, which you mentally noted to yourself. You never thought you'd see him with purple in his hair.

"Wakasa?"

The man in front of you— wow, it felt weird to call him that— had an unlit cigarette dangling between his teeth. You watched him tease the end of it with his tongue, tracing along the edge.

"Yours truly."

You were stunned. You never expected to even come here tonight, much less to see your old best friend here.

"Wakasa, what are you even doing here?" you question.

He shrugged, looking up at you with hooded eyes. "Dunno, I just neede to clear my head.” He paused, eyes traveling down your body and then back up to meet your gaze. "And what about you, princess?"

You rolled your eyes. "Stop calling me that. It's me for god's sake, Wakasa. Don't act all high and mighty just 'cause you're running with gangs and smoking weed now." Wakasa seemed slightly taken aback by your harsh words. I mean, yeah it was true, but it still stung to hear you talk to him like that. You started, "But anyways, I was just taking a drive and I ended up here."

Wakasa nodded, and a few moments of silence sat between the two of you; there was a stalemate.

"So?"

You blinked. "So?" you repeated. "So, what?"

Wakasa grinned an impish smile. "So, do you wanna get out of here? Maybe hit up a bar?"

Shaking your head, you pulled your coat tighter around your body. "No, you idiot, it's Christmas Eve, I'm not going out and getting drunk. Besides, there probably aren't any bars open."

"Hey, you're the one out on the streets at night, all alone."

You sighed with frustration. "Can we quit the bickering and go somewhere already? It's freezing."

Wakasa grinned wider, stuffing his cigarette in the pocket of his jacket. "Okay, here's the deal: we have a race, by bike versus your busted up little smart car. I win, we go drinking. You win, we go to bible study and make friendship bracelets like good girls."

You reached forward to punch his arm playfully, feigning anger although a smile lingered on your face. "Yeah, no. Get in my car, you idiot."

Wakasa didn't hesitate. You could tell he was probably getting cold by the way his cheeks were tinged with pink.

You slid into the driver’s seat with Wakasa across from you in the passenger. As you put the car into drive, it started making a high-pitched dinging sound.

“Oh no, oh no no no!!!” you exclaimed. Orange letters flashed on the small digital screen behind your wheel: FUEL EMPTY.

Wakasa leaned over towards you, inspecting the issue. “Ouch, princess. Guess you’re gonna have to start pushing.”

You glared at the blond. “No, I’m not. I’m going to call my friend to come bring me some gas.”

Suddenly, the interior lights flickered once, then twice, before giving up and leaving you in complete darkness.

“No fucking way.”

Your car battery had died.

You bent over to lean your head against the steering wheel. You set off the horn in doing so. Well, at least something’s working.

You were beginning to think this was karma for sneaking food out of the dining hall in plastic tupperware bins when Wakasa spoke up, “Guess we’ll have to take my ride.”

You looked up at him without picking up your head. “There’s no way in hell I’m getting on that death trap. I’d rather walk home.”

Wakasa snorted a laugh. “Well, that’s your only other option.”

You sat up and reached for your phone. “No, I’m just going to call a friend.”

Wakasa started to open the car door. “Yeah, right. No one is gonna come out here on Christmas Eve. They’re all spending their merry time with their beloved families,” he said. You couldn’t help but notice the almost resentful sound in his voice.

You huffed in frustration. “Okay, then I’ll sit here and wait for a passing traveller to see my car and hitch hike.”

Wakasa stepped out of the car, leaning down so he could talk still see you. “No way I’m letting you get in some random stranger’s car and get kidnapped.”

You sighed. “I’m not getting kidnapped, and besides, aren’t you just some random stranger too?”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “You’re not getting in my car. You’re getting on it.”

You closed your eyes in frustration. He thought he was being so smug.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you finally resign to his efforts. “Okay, fine, I’ll go with you. But no highways, no back alleys, and we aren’t going any faster than thirty miles per hour. And you have to drive me back out here in the morning to get my car.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

Once you were outside the car, Wakasa took the bike off of the kickstand and waved a hand in front of him. “After you, my lady.”

Reluctantly, you swung your leg over the metal contraption and lowered yourself onto the seat. You were surprised at how comfortable it was, actually. But it would be better with a seatbelt and four walls, you thought.

Wakasa got on after you, sitting in front of you so he could drive. You realized then that there were no handlebars for the person sitting on the back, so you had to hold on to him. Well, shit. It wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with doing that; you and Wakasa had been inseparable for so many years of your lives together. It was just that it had been so long since you had last been around him and you couldn’t imagine how different he would be by this point. Surely, gang life had gotten to him and had deteriorated his physical health, you thought.

“Hold on tight, okay?”

Hands shaking, you cautiously started to wrap your arms around his torso. You were right: gang life had changed him. His body was firm and toned, your aching cold hands being able to feel the lines of his abs through the thin material he was wearing.

Suddenly, you heard Wakasa laugh. Not a sarcastic huff this time, but a real, genuine laugh. “You’re going to need to hold on a lot tighter than that once we start going, princess.” God, you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh okay,” you managed to say. You could tell by the heat of your face in contrast to the cold weather that you were bulshing profusely.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” you heard him say. He leaned over the front of the bike and picked something up from off the ground. It made a scraping sound that you recognized as metal on concrete. “Here you go.”

In his hands, he held a black riding helmet. You eyes moved from it to him and back to it. It was comically large, so big that you doubt it would even fit on a human head.

“I think I’m okay,” you say, trying to be polite.

“No way, princess, put it on.”

You huffed out a sigh. “Seriously? Why do I have to wear that stupid thing but you don’t?”

He shook his head, using both of his hands to fasten the helmet on your head. “Can’t risk damaging the precious cargo.” By this point, you knew you were as red as a tomato. Precious? Luckily, the helmet covered most of your face.

You felt the bike start to move. Slowly but surely, you were making your way out of the parking lot. Hey, this really isn’t so bad, you think.

As you coast down the road, you feel yourself admiring the new things you’ve seen of Wakasa— just little things, like his mannerisms and the way he smelled and the way he pulled his hair back. In this moment, you think you finally found some peace in your life. The past semester had been hell, between essays and shitty professors and your ex-boyfriend being an asshole.

Just when you were beginning to enjoy the feeling of the wind blowing over your face, the bike turned onto your street all too soon. You were surprised that Wakasa still remembered the same address you had told him all those eyars ago despite never having taken the time to visit your new apartment.

He pulled into your driveway, turning the bike’s engine off and stepping off the bike before offering you a hand of assistance. You accepted it, getting off the bike with a little bit of a stumble. After removing the helmet and leaning it against the sidewalk, you led him into your apartment.

“Here, go sit down and I’ll get you something to drink,” you say as you go around the small space, switching on the lights. Wakasa takes a seat at the little kitchen island and you see him inspecting the various pictures you have scattered around for decoration. He picked up a letter that had been trifolded and removed from an envelope earlier that morning, scanning it briefly.

“Wow, Honors society, huh? Smart girl,” Wakasa says. Walking up behind him, you snatch the paper out of his grasp.

“Hey, it’s illegal to steal other people’s mail,” you complain.

He raised his hands up in mock defense. “I’m innocent, I swear!”

You rolled your eyes at his dumb joke. Passing him, you go to your fridge, viewing your selection of beverages. “What do you want to drink?”

The blond shrugged. “Whatever you have.”

You passed him a glass of lemonade, complete with a cute little paper straw. He took a long drink from it before looking up at you. Although you were used to being around him, for some reason this eye contact felt more intense than ever before. He broke it first, looking down at his drink. “So, how’s your boyfriend?”

That was not the question you expected him to ask. She shake your head, “How did you even know about that?”

He pointed a finger towards the entry way to your apartment. “The framed photos. You’re with a guy in all of them.”

Your gaze dropped from him to the counter. Shit, you didn’t even think to take them down. Your life had been for too chaotic ever since you broke up with your ex to worry about decorations.

You stirred your straw in your drink, listening to the ice clink in the glass. “Well I’ve got questions for you too. Don’t think you’re getting off the hook about Shinichiro.”

Wakasa faltered and you could tell you hit a weak spot. Rubbing his hand over his face, he gave in, “Okay, fine. You answer my questions and I’ll answer yours.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Me and my ex broke up just a few weeks ago, actually.”

Wakasa nodded. “Real nice guy, breaking up with you right before the holidays.”

You snorted, “Yeah, right, he didn’t even know my favorite movie, probably, much less care about my feelings.”

“Notting Hill.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at such a random comment. “What?”

Wakasa shrugged. “Your favorite movie. It’s Notting Hill.”

You smiled a little. “You really remember that?” you ask.

He smiled back, “Of course, I remember watching it with you in 10th grade and you balling your eyes out.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, okay.”

“Now it’s your turn to ask a question.”

If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit you didn’t want to ruin the moment that you were in right now. It felt really good to get to talk to your old best friend again, and you felt happier now than you had in a long time.

You shuffled your feet. “Okay. Why didn’t you come to Shinichiro’s funeral?”

Wakasa nods his head; he had been expecting the conversation to come back to this.

He shifted backwards in his chair. “My parents were really shitty at that time, and I was still living in their house . . . and you and Shin, you were all that I had. So to lose him, it was like losing a brother, and I couldn’t bear to—“ he pauses, considering his words. “I wasn’t brave enough to accept that he was gone.”

A pause. “I regret it every day, you know,” he begins. “I regret not saying a final goodbye to him, and I regret not being there for you. There was nothing I wanted more than to hold you in my arms . . . but I couldn’t— I wasn’t there for you.”

You’re stunned that he decided to share so much with you, but you were grateful nonetheless.

“Wakasa, you know I’ll always be there for you, right?” you said as you reached across the table to grasp his hand. It was warm, and you tried in that moment to memorize the way his hand felt in yours, just in case you never felt it again.

You feel him lean in, warmth radiating off his body. You could smell the deep wooden smell of his cologne and the light, delicate scent of his shampoo. Suddenly, his lips were on yours, warm and soft. You tensed up a little in surprise before keaning into the kiss, pushing and pulling in tandem with him. His free hand made his way into your hair, tugging lightly out of need. His other hand still held yours across the counter.

Eventually, you broke away from the kiss. Your head was racing with thoughts. What are we? How did this even happen?

You opened your eyes, looking up to meet Wakasa’s violet ones.

He went to lean in for another kiss, but you stopped him with a hand against his chest. You felt him pull away slightly. “Wakasa . . . I can’t— we can’t let this go on if you don’t tell me what this is, what we are. I want . . . I just can’t let this happen if I know you’re gonna run away again. I don’t think I can take that.” You see him falter, thinking over his words. “I want to be with you, Y/n, but I just . . . I don’t want to let myself go there and then end up hurting you. That’s the reason I’ve stayed away all these years. Between the gang and Shinichiro’s passing, i worried I was too volatile to be around you. It was too much of a risk to have me in your life, I mean, being with me might cost you your career and your fancy college degree . . . “

He watched a single tear roll down your cheek. He worried that his wods hurt you, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Waka’, I know you’d never hurt me—“

“I love you, Y/n. I always have— and it’s my job to protect you. So if you’re absolutely sure this is what you want, that you want to put up with me for a while . . . I’d love that more than anything.”

You decided to answer with a kiss, pulling him to you by the sleeve of his shirt. You allowed him to slot his tongue between your lips, tasting his lips as if they were the sweetest delicacy.

You pulled away to speak, nodding while you gazed into his eyes with tears in yours. “Yes, yes, I want to be with you. I never wanted you to leave in the first place.”

It was his turn to pull you in, slotting his lips against yours in a passionate display. His hands grabbed either side of your face, ever so gentle as his thumbs stoked your cheek.

Suddenly, he pulled away from the kiss. You worried there was somethign wrong. Opening his eyes, you met his as he began to speak. “Is this just like in your movies?”

You leaned over, belly laughing. It reminded you of the old days when there weren’t real world problems to deal with and all you had to worry about was your weekend plans with your two best friends. “Yeah, actually. It really is.”

And for the first time in a very long time, you felt a light, buzzing feeling in your chest that told you that this was right. This was where you wree meant to be.

#tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tr #tr x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #Wakasa imaushi #tokrev wakasa #tokyo revengers wakasa #tr wakasa #wakasa x reader

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syd-djarin · 4 months

Text

Do It For Me | Treat Me Like a Slut, Part 2 | jack “whiskey” daniels x f!reader

For the greatest experience, recommend reading part 1 here. Can also be read as a standalone.

Summary: Jack returns home much later than he said he would. You punish him as you see fit.

Warnings: sub!jack, dom!reader, edging, safeword, some religious undertone references (Christ, taking the lords name in vain, “the Almighty”), a little angst in the beginning, alcohol, inability to tell the truth, mentions of Jack possibly being dead, blood, yelling, crying, anxiety spiral. Excessive, excesssssive use of pet names, (1) use of MOMMY, use of daddy, Jack is called a pretty boy and a good boy. Jack uses pet names for reader too (baby, sweetheart, sugar, etc.) Dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), face riding, Jack’s big cock, breeding kink if you squint, creampie, size kink, handcuffs, cowboy/southern references, mentions of pain and punishment. Reader has no major physical descriptions. And finally…your honor, they’re in love. LMK if I missed anything.

Thank you @milly-louise for the encouragement.

And of course, y’all already know that @katiexpunk put her sexy magic touch on this and is the best cheerleader and Slutty Smutty Sister. Katie is seriously one of a kind and it is a privilege to know her.

I truly have the best smut support there is. :’) Hope y’all enjoy!

smut below the cut.

Jack busts into your apartment like a force of nature, opening the door like a saloon door in the Wild West. He’s gasping for breath from rushing home to see you – climbing the stairs three at a time, testing his agility harder than any training ever did, simply from the fact that most of the blood is in his cock, eager to see you, rather than in any other part of his moving body.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late—“ he trails off as he takes in the scene before him.

He finds you sitting at the dining table; candles lit, a bottle of red open on the table, one wine glass full, the other that’s smudged with lipstick empty, and his favorite meal waiting for him. His eyes flutter to you and he’s met with a pair of misty, red scleras staring back at him.

You rise from the table and storm off to the bathroom, your humiliation unbearable. Since you were a little girl, you have always been self-conscious of the way you look when you cry. Like one allergy attack short of an ER visit. Not beautifully poetic the way the girls in movies cry. Full on hyperventilating and snot running out of your nose. Once inside, hot salty tears stream down your cheeks. The pang in your chest knocks the wind out of you, disappointment burning through your body like wildfire, heating your skin.

You thought it might be nice to surprise Jack, to welcome him home from his two-week mission; the longest you’ve been apart since you’ve been together. Be home in a jiffy, sweetheart. Can’t wait to see you. I’ll be home around six, he assured you this morning over the phone, his voice smooth and silky.

Six turned into seven thirty, which turned into eight-thirty, and now here it is – nearing 11 o’clock, each passing hour without hearing from him only made you more upset. You wouldn’t be this mad if had he just called, texted, or hell, he could have sent a carrier pigeon to let you know he’s fine and that’d be late. All of your calls and texts to him went unanswered. You’re not unused to this, given his job and everything, but every time it happens it irks you in a way you can’t control.

But no, he didn’t – his absence acted like a tour bus, giving your mind an entire tour of all of the things that could have possibly gone wrong. What if he was hit by a car? Trapped in an industrial-size freezer? It’s not logical, but like…what if.

Or worse, what if he was dead? Jack wields around his mortality as if it were immortality in his line of work, meaning you worry about him like you get paid hourly to do so. The waiting, the worrying, and the not-knowing spreads under your skin like a fever with each passing minute. You don’t even care about the dinner getting cold, or to be honest, the fact that he didn’t respond to you. You’re past that, you’re emotions thick like a blanket. You just need to know he’s okay. He’s safe. He’s still alive, for fucks sake.

As you waited for him, your knee bobbing under the kitchen table, your thoughts oscillated between the worst-case scenarios, your stomach swirling in unease and dread.

And then –

There he was, swinging the door open, a shit-eating grin on his face as if he had no idea that you’d been expecting him for hours or that you’d made yourself sick wondering where he was.

You pat at your blurry lashline with a tissue, trying not to smear the makeup you worked so hard to put on earlier in the evening. Hurried and heavy boot steps echo outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock.

“Baby, can I come in, please?” He gently coos, his voice almost a little desperate, forehead leaning against the door. It’s not locked, but Jack is a gentleman above all and wants to respect your space. Even if it’s his fault you need it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you spit back, your voice wobbly. His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach; you’ve never spoken to him like this before. Normally you’re fairly carefree, and understanding, but the talons you like to keep hidden away are now on full display, brought out by a mix of worry, hunger, and anger.

You look in the mirror again, and your feigned attempts to prevent your mascara from running are useless. Your eyes are now puffy, beyond anything Benadryl or Clear Eyes could help, and even a bit raccoon-like. Great, a cherry on top of an already shit night.

You step back from the counter and lean back against the wall, allowing your legs to slightly give out as you slide down the expanse of it, the fabric of your dress riding up as you do. Your bare thighs hit the cool tile below you, cooling your hot skin. The tears that well in your eyes fall one by one, and don’t seem like they have any plans to ease up anytime soon. You run the back of your hand under your nose and move it to wipe away some of the moisture on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart?” He calls to you through the door, but he’s met with silence. “Baby, I’m so sorry I’m late. I can see how much this night meant to you, and I can tell you worked hard to make it special. I’m sorry I ruined it. Baby, please, open the door – let me see you.”

The sincerity in his voice causes your temper to simmer down. You plant your palms on the ground and push yourself up to stand. You know you look like a hot mess, but you don’t care. Let the fucker see how much he hurt you. Your palm finds the brass doorknob, and you quickly pull the door open, almost taking Jack with it, not realizing he was leaning up against it.

You stand there, arms by your sides, your fists rolled into little balls. Your cheeks are damp, and the stray hands of your hair are plastered to them, glued on by your tears. At first, you look at the floor, before lifting your gaze to face Jack.

His heart sinks when he sees you. “Oh sweetpea…fuck, I am so sorry baby,” he tells you once more.

“You’re late, Jack. Like really fucking late!” you cry out to him, not quite yelling, but not quite not yelling, either.

“I know I am, but baby –” he replies, looking at your lips, avoiding your eyes, before you cut him off.

“Why the hell didn’t you call me or text me? For fucks sake, Jack. I thought you were hurt! Or worse, dead. You could have been lying in a ditch bleeding out and I would have had no idea,” you spill out, spewing fire with your words. “Where were you anyway? Hmm? What had you so preoccupied you couldn’t even bother to tell me you were gonna be – oh I don’t know, five hours late?” You ask, a twinge of snarkiness behind your voice.

You’re only so keyed up because you care about him so much; trying to mask your pain with anger.

He inches closer to you, instinctively pulling your body into his. You resist as first, body rigid, not embracing him back. You’re still mad, but with the way he feels against you, you can’t help but soften. You wrap your arms around his middle, resembling the way a koala bear clings onto a tree. The firmness of his arms envelops you in a protective blanket, pulling you tight to him so you can see the pulse in his neck, lowers your cortisol levels, and cools your heated blood.

“I’ll tell you, but have to promise you won’t laugh,” he says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. Fuck, he missed you.

“I’m not going to laugh, Jack. Where were you? What the hell happened?” you demand to know once again, stepping back from him, disconnecting your embrace.

“I uh – well, I was trying to save a kitten that was trapped on the train tracks on my way home. I managed to grab it, but as I was hoisting it back up onto the platform, my phone fell out of my pocket. By the time I went back down to grab it, the train was right around the corner…and well, it was crushed. Then I had to navigate my way home without GPS, and I saw an old lady get robbed, so I had to help her. And then there was a runaway stroller…” he says, smiling. He knows your upset, but he tries to lighten your spirits with humor.

That’s his thing. Well, your thing together, you suppose. You’d always ask him how his day was at work, how his missions went, knowing he couldn’t ever tell you the truth. You jokingly said to him one night, “Well if you can’t tell me the truth, make something up, like rescuing a kitten in a tree or something.” You were half-joking, but it just sorta stuck.

You look at Jack and can tell from the look on his face that he is sorry.

“Spy stuff, then?” You ask, clearing the remaining tears from your cheek.

“Spy stuff. I’m sorry baby, I want to tell you, I do, it’s just…the more you don’t know, the better. I don’t ever want to tell you anything that could compromise you, I couldn’t bare it if you got hurt,” Jack says, a sincerity behind his voice.

You see it then – for as much as you love and worry about him. He loves and worries about you, too. He knows his work is a lot, and he can see the weight of him not being able to tell you the full truth has on you. The worry, the pain that lingers behind your eyes.

Your shoulders relax and your face softens. You won’t push him.

You know he’d tell you if he could. You run the pads of your fingers under your eyes once more, clearing away some of the fallout from your makeup. The anger from earlier dissipates.

He’s here. He’s safe.

You reach your hand out to him and allow your fingertips to curl around his pinky. You look up at him with doe eyes.

“Gonna have to make it up to me, cowboy,” you whisper, a seductive tone to your voice. “Behave for me and I won’t be too mean.”

You unhook his pinky and curl your full hand around his wrist, rounding around him, pulling him to the bedroom.

You push Jack so that he is seated at the edge of your shared bed, using your foot to wedge his thighs open, granting enough space for you to stand between them. His sable eyes are the size of saucers, his heart thrums at a rapid rate in his chest. He’s no stranger to it all, hell, he’s a trained killer for Christ's sake, and yet here he is – defenseless under you, at your total mercy.

You could tell him to get on all fours and bark, and he’d fucking do it. He doesn’t know what your end game is, but he’s itching to find out, much like the hard cock that’s quickly eating up all of the space in his jeans.

“You’ve been a naughty, naughty boy…” you say, stroking your finger along the razor edge of his chiseled jaw. A little tsk, tsk sound escapes your lips, and you move to grab his jaw with a firm grip. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He gulps hard, the prominent Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he does. You’re not wrong – he has been a naughty boy, oh god, if you only knew, but hearing you say it has him bricked up; hard, and desperate for you, and whatever you want to give him. He’s ready to worship at your altar, ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

He’s well-versed in taking charge and fucking you til you see The Almighty, but reversing those roles, having you boss him around for a change? He’s never experienced anything quite like it. The Statesman surely didn’t train him for this.

“Remember the safe word, baby?” You ask in a serious tone, momentarily pausing your sexual prowess.

“Oh fuck,” he chokes out. “Y-es, I remember, baby.” Your pussy throbs at the sight of your tough cowboy submitting to you.

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna keep your hands to yourself. Can you do that for me?” You respond, your voice smoky, laced with pure desire.

He nods and a faint whimper escapes his lips. You squeeze his jaw with your hand, “Use your words like a big boy,” you scold, reciting similar words he used on you not too long ago. Use your words like a big girl.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, voice trembling with need, a twinge of submission behind it.

You can’t help the smirk on your face, taking over the reins and being in charge gives you a new thrill. Now you know what all the fuss is about.

You start undoing the buttons of his Western-style shirt. You’re taking your time, enjoying how each undone button reveals more of his lean body that gets softer the further down you go, but for Jack, it’s painstakingly slow. He squirms where he’s sitting and fights the urge to take over. He’s trying not to paint his jeans just looking at you being a minx.

Rip my fuckin’ heart out baby, is the only thought that crosses his mind.

“Patience, baby,” you purr and give his face a few playful smacks. You reach for his belt buckle, and he hisses when it presses against his rock-hard cock. You retreat, remembering the recurring fantasy you’ve been having for weeks now.

“Pants off, lay on the bed, and wait for me,” you order and he does as he’s told. Truthfully, he’s a little afraid of what you might do if he doesn’t. You walk over to your closet space, which is thankfully out of view from the bed. You take the opportunity to strip down to the silky black bra and matching panties you’ve been waiting to show Jack all evening. You gather the items you came to the closet for and step back into the bedroom.

Jack is lying with his back under a cloud of pillows, his head resting against the metal headboard. He’s almost naked, just like you asked, his thick bulge pronounced in his underwear. You swear you can see his heart thump out of his chest from across the room when his eyes trail over your nearly bare body. His breath catches in his throat when he sees what you retrieved from the closet. Fuzzy handcuffs, and one of your fluorescent pink dildos. He doesn’t mind when you use it on yourself, but he’d much rather give you the real thing. The silicon shape of it taunts him.

You lay the agents of eroticism next to him and crawl up his body to hover over him. He cranes his neck to kiss you but you pull back and place your index finger over his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you scold. He whines, actually whines, and you have to compose yourself from melting on the spot. You pick up the novelty handcuffs and dangle them in his face, a mischievous and somewhat amused look on your face.

“Gonna put these on ya, pretty boy,” you say with a delicate cadence, almost questioning; giving Jack the room to protest. He’s never been restrained before, at least not in this context. He’s restrained you plenty of times, but you understand he might not like it; especially given the nature of his profession and his need to always be on guard.

But fuck it, if he has a problem with it, he can safe word out.

He doesn’t.

You lock eyes with him as you fasten the handcuffs around his wrists, one end on each, the other tethered to the metal bed frame. Your chest is so close to his face, close enough that his tongue can’t help but dart out and give your tits a little lick, the temptation of it too strong.

You pull away from him and look down at him. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. You’re gonna keep your hands to yourself, and that includes your tongue. You’ll take what I give you when I give it to you. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jack nods, a smug look on his face. He thinks you’re cute when you’re demanding.

“Better wipe that little smirk from your face right now or I’ll leave you chained up all night, fuck myself silly with this plastic cock, and moan your name the entire time I do it. You won’t get a single taste. That what you want?” You ask, a condescending tone to your voice.

He doesn’t answer you, he just looks at you with lusty, glossy eyes. “What’s the matter baby, cat got your tongue?” you say, and a low growl leaves his chest.

“No, baby. I don’t want that. Wanna fuck you, wanna show you how sorry I am,” he says. You know he could bust out of the handcuffs with a swift tug if he wanted to. You know he could pin you to this bed and have you crying for him, following his every demand. What’s more, you know you’d like it.

But he knows he fucked up, and he knows this is his penance.

You let out a little purr of satisfaction when you see him tug at the cuffs, the rattle of them against the metal of the bed frame. His lack of somewhat self-imposed freedom shows you that right now he’s at your mercy.

You rise to stand on the bed, both of your feet on either side of him, positioned just above his head. The view you’re giving him is obscene, the sheer lace of your panties just barely covering your wet and glistening cunt. You dip your hand below the hand of them and use your fingers to gently nudge the soiled fabric to the side. You run your finger up your dripping seam, collecting your slick on your finger, gently passing over your throbbing clit as you do. A little gasp trickles over your lips. Jack can see the glisten on your fingertips and his mouth salivates, conditioned like Pavlov’s dog at the sight of your juices. He can smell you from where you’re positioned, the sweet scent of your arousal, and the groan he lets out is animalistic, primal. He’s kicking himself for the predicament he’s in, but at the same time, relinquishing control has never felt this good.

“Bet you wanna stuff your thick cock in this pretty pussy don’t you, Daddy. Wanna split me open, stretch me out, and claim me,” you taunt him, your fingers continuing their ministration against your clit, nearing you closer to your release. The filth spewing from your lips is mostly just to tease him, but fuck, if it doesn’t do something for you, too. Mostly because it’s true. You want him so bad, you can only imagine how he must feel.

“Answer me, baby. Tell me what you wanna do to this pussy when I finally let you,” you rasp out, your fingers alternating between slipping in and out of your wet and waiting hole.

“Fuuuck,” Jack growls. He can barely form words, too drunk off the sight of your pussy, watching you work yourself above him. “Such a pretty fucking cunt,” he hisses, “gonna fucking ruin you when I get out of these cuffs.”

“Yeah? Keep being a good boy for me and I’ll let you fuck me however you want baby,” you rasp, a little breathless, sprinting to the cliff of your orgasm,“But, you’re gonna make me come first,�� you say, falling to your knees, holding the panties far off to the side of your slit. You position yourself right above Jack’s face, holding your glistening cunt inches away from his face. So close he can almost taste it, but not quite close enough.

“I wanna hear you beg,” you tell Jack, your hands threaded through his hair, pulling it back so he’s face-to-face with your pretty pussy. “Tell your mommy how bad you wanna taste her cunt.”

And shit, it’s raunchy, straight debauched. You don’t even have time to ponder the words that just left your lips, but it felt right. You can tell Jack likes it too by the way he practically falls apart under you, a whimper leaving his chest for the second time tonight, his eyes dark as the sea at night.

When he doesn’t answer you, you tug his hair and head back a little farther, dipping just a little bit lower, close enough this time for him to land a little lick on your wet center.

“Holy fuck baby, shit I need you so bad, please sit on my face,” he begs, “please let me taste you.” You’re more than happy to oblige, chasing reprieve from your aching core. You sit down on his face, your wet folds completely covering his mouth, his nose nudged right up against your awaiting clit. You don’t put all of your weight onto him yet, not wanting to cut off all of his airflow. He pulls away slightly, “Fucking give me all of it, baby. Don’t hold back,” Jack muffles against the skin of your pussy. His voice reverberates, his hot breath is ticklish against your sensitive cunt.

As much as you’re in control right now, old habits die hard, and him telling you what to do for the first time tonight coils the spring of your nearing release tight. You let out a slew of fuck, yes, oh my god daddy, yes, and taking the lord’s name in vain a few times. You’re riding the wave of your orgasm, and it’s so intense, to the point of dizziness. “Oh wait, fuck, think–” you lift off him slightly, just in time to see your release splashing over his face, completely drenching him. You fully move off of him, and look down at him, and he’s a mess. He looks at you with a primal grin to his face, his pupils so wide they edge out the color of his eyes.

“Oh fuck, Daddy. Look at you,” you moan, “covered in me, aren’t ya? Looks good on you. Now swallow it,” you demand.

You don’t have to tell him twice. He drinks up what he can while being restrained and you decide to gift him more by catching the stray droplets on his chin with your index finger and pressing it into his mouth. Jack savors your taste, eyes fluttering shut and practically growls. He’d argue it's the nectar of the gods.

“Shit, baby. You come for me like that and I’ll let you do whatever you want with me, this cock is all yours,” Jack rasps, thoroughly fucked out and under-touched. His cock throbs under the fabric of his boxers, waiting for you to touch him, to milk the soul right out of him.

“Think I’m gonna keep you restrained like this for a bit longer, baby. But don’t worry, since you’re being so good, I’ll put on quite the show for you,” you say, shimmying and kissing your way down the center of his stomach, leaving goosebumps in your wake. You nip across the neatly trimmed hairs that rest at the top of his cock, until you come to over them, your lips hovering just above the band of his underwear.

You look up at him through your lashes, and give him a little knowing smile; you love what you do to him and you’ve barely touched him yet. You slip the fabric off of him, releasing his thick cock; it’s bigger than normal right now, pumped full of so much blood, the prominent vein that runs down the side of it bulging, the tip of it shiny with his pre-come.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him. You’ve always admired his thick, delicious cock, but having free reign over it right now, the power to do whatever the fuck you want with it is almost overwhelming. You dart your tongue out and lick the tip of him, the taste is a little salty and heady. You moan and smile, before opening your mouth wide, releasing your tongue so it’s wide and flat. You grab his cock by the base of him and tap the mushroom head of it over your tongue, little thin strings of salvia trailing between your body and his as you do.

“Fuck, baby. You’re such a tease, killin’ me over here,” Jack moans, fighting his fuzzy restraints.

“Oh Jack, my love. Have you learned anything tonight? You’re mine. I’ll do what I want with you when I want to,” you rasp, opening your mouth wide, diving down deep on to the thickness of him as you do.

“Ah shit –” he cries out, happy to finally be touched, but not expecting you to deep-throat him from the get-go. “So good baby, so good oh my god,” he cries out as he juts his hips up, trying to nudge his cock deeper into your wet and waiting throat, chasing the warmth and wetness of it. You keep working him, it’s sloppy and intense, but so damn satisfying. You’re just happy to have him deep inside one of your holes, filling you in just the way you like.

But you want more. As happy as you are to keep up this teasing, taunting, and kinky show, at your core you just need him to fuck you. You need to feel him deep inside of you, deep enough to remind you that he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s yours. You need him to fuck you so hard that the sadness from earlier in the evening spills out of you, retreats into a corner, runs away, and hides, never to be found again.

“Want me to ride you, pretty boy?” You ask, though you already know what the answer will be. He nods furiously, and if you don’t put him out of his misery soon, he has half the mind to punish you.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t catch that – use your words, I know how good you are at that; prove it to me,” you command, running your palm up and down the length of his wet cock, working him within an inch of his life.

“Yes, fuck, please ride me. Need to feel your pussy squeezin’ my cock,” he pleads, his patience wearing thin, “Don’t wanna come like this, sugar. Need to fill up that little pussy of yours, know how much she likes that, my come spilling out of you,” he moans. “Look so pretty when I’m spilling out of you, my girl,” he adds.

As soon as he finishes his last syllable, you line him up with your entrance and sink slowly. You gasp when he’s fully inside, your ass flush against him. From this angle, his cock punches your cervix in a way that deliciously teeters on pain and pleasure. You’re seriously considering uncuffing him, letting him ravage you, but ultimately you’re not ready to end your fun.

Your hand finds purchase on Jack’s sweat-slick chest as you bounce up and grind back down on his vicious cock. Your other hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in tandem with the plunging movement of your hips. Each movement fuses both of you together in shared ecstasy.

The flurry of emotions and sensations you’re experiencing at once is overwhelming; your second orgasm impending, the still raw and pent up feelings from your catastrophizing thought spiral that lasted for hours, and the sweet relief of having your cowboy back home with you. Exactly where he belongs.

He’s close and you’re both a little surprised he’s lasted this long. His honey-like drawl spewing out filthy words. The closer he gets the mouthier he gets.

Atta girl, ride this cock like you mean it. Look like straight up sin like this, baby. Fuckin’ goddess. Fuck fuck fuck. Thank fucking Christ you’re mine. Shit. fuck. damn. All mine, all mine.

Furling headfirst into euphoria, you roar out at a decibel that the neighbors on each side of you won’t appreciate the way that Jack is right now. A new flash of heat spreads throughout your body and you see stars behind your fluttering eyelids. You gush around his cock, pussy pulsating and immersing you both in your release.

“Fuck I’m—“ Jack is cut off by his own hoarse shout as he’s bucked into his own bliss, painting your insides with spurts of cum. He’s pretty sure he has died and went where cowboys go; he’s never come this hard in his life. He’s dizzy, borderline disoriented, chasing his breath like it’s a greased pig and he’s the poor chap pursuing it. You lean down and capture his lips in a frenzied kiss, another way of tethering yourselves to each other and back down to earth.

With trembling limbs you reach over to the nightstand and grab the tiny keys to the cliche cuffs still locked around Jack’s wrists. You fumble through unlocking them and you’re grateful that he is still hazy, otherwise he’d be giving you shit for it.

You dismount off of his softening shaft and feel your spent pussy leak down your inner thighs. A filthy idea pops into your fucked out head, your last act of dominance for tonight. You glide two fingers through your combined juices and bring them to Jack’s lips. The second time your fingers have been in his mouth tonight.

“See how good we taste together, baby,” you command, smearing some onto his plush lips. He sticks out his tongue, waiting for your offering. Much to your delight, he is still pliant under your control after you removed his restraints. He swirls his warm tongue along your fingers, lapping up every last drop.

You move off Jack’s chest in favor of tucking yourself into his side. Even though you were in control tonight, the need to be held post-coitus is still present. When he holds you in his strong arms, it’s your sanctuary. He’s not sure you know, but you’re his sanctuary.

Moments of tranquil pass and Jack breaks the silence.

“So…. Mommy, huh?”

END

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billyhargrovesslut · 1 year

Text

Mentally Cheating

Billy Hargrove x plus size reader

Summary: being with Steve has its ups and downs but the way Billy's been looking at you has stirred a new feeling inside you.

Warning: smoking, cheating, self-conscious

thoughts, +size reader, bullying

F/c = favorite color

Yn pov

The sun has been blaring down for a few days now and it's taken quite some time to actually convince myself to go to the public pool I normally wasn't the self-conscious type it only started a few months ago when Steve commented on my dietary while on a date

It kinda wasn't only that since I've been dating Steve the girls at my school would laugh and stare while whispering to their friends and Steve just says I'm just being dramatic and over thinking things before leaving me alone in the hallway to join up with Nancy for a 'project'

I knew something was happening between them but I could never get the courage to actually confront him maybe he is right and I do need to start cutting back on food, I groaned as I tried on my third bikini but my tummy pooled out a little I quickly changed out of my costume and walked over to my closet trying to find a different costume

I dug and scratched till I found one of my nice one piece it was f/c with a zip on my chest from the neck to the belly button the fabric was soft to the touch and kinda gleamed in the sun light I rushed to put it on and threw on a pair of black shorts before heading out to my car

I tapped my steering wheel to the rhythm of the soft tones that played over the radio as I pulled into the parking and luckily there was I nice shaded spot under a tree near the entrance I quickly made my way paying the entrance fee and sighed out a breath of contentment

The pool wasn't as packed as usual so a few chairs were left unused I walked over to one by the far corner and set my stuff down before sitting in the chair I closed my eyes and leaned my head back 'maybe this wasn't so bad' all I could hear was a few children splashing in the water while a few adults talk just a bit aways from me but then I heard it the giggling the same exact giggling I hear everyday of school

I didn’t open my eyes just praying for them to leave me alone but they didn't "I didn't know they allowed pigs in here" one mocked happily "maybe to eat all they tras" another tried to speak but was cut off "the only thing we don't allow in here are sluts and bullys so I think it's best you leave" I opened my eyes looking towards my savior

My eyes widen at who it was, billy hargrove in his full glory his uniformed shorts pulled dangerous low showing off his v-line while his 6-pack glistened from a thin layer of sweat the girls groaned before leaving "thank you" I mumbled as a blush rose to my cheeks it wasn't really the first time he saved me it seems he's a better knight in shining armor then steve

"No problem, your yn right, im billy, billy hargrove" he smiled, my eyes widened as I never really introduced myself it was normally a quick thank you before rushing off to class "yes that's me we have chemistry together well also maths, english" i quickly shut my mouth as I droned on "sorry" I squeaked looking away from him, he just shook his head while smiling

"Don't be I mean how could I forget a beautiful face like yours" he laughed as he took a seat across from mine my cheeks turned a bright red making his grin turn into a smirk as he stared at me I finally looked back at him gazing into his eyes as he did mine the way he stared at me caused me to have butterflies and my heart skip a beat

"Maybe billy is my knight in shining armor or am I just mentally cheating".

(Should I make a smutty part two?)

#stranger things #stranger things x reader fluff #stranger things x reader angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things billy hargrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x reader fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #tw.cheating

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luveline · 2 years

Note

what abt rockstar remus and reader start chatting over the phone and he invites her to a party the band is having perhaps? sirius n james see them together n tease remus maybe (goodheartedly) smthn like that :] also i love ur writing i’ve been following for months now n i literally all of it is always so good never read anything i didn’t thoroughly enjoy from u

thank you so much you're LOVELY!! part two to this but you don't have to read it ♡ fem!reader | 1.3k words

When Remus had asked you over the phone if you wanted to go to a party, you'd said yes before really thinking it through.

"Cool. I'll send someone."

His nonchalance had further disturbed you. Talking to him over the phone is terrifying. He's a hard guy to read when he's sitting right across from you – over the phone feels like slow torture. You'll say something and the line will go totally dead and you'll pull back the phone to check he's still there and catch the end of a laugh. Then he says something stupidly nice, like, Fuck, you're funny, and you have to stop from throwing your phone across the room.

The driver Remus had sent for you has to give your name at the front gate, which is ridiculous. Then he pulls into a driveway big enough for thirty cars, which is more ridiculous, and it's over capacity by double that, all sports cars' worth more money than you'll likely ever see in your entire life. Famous people's parties are insane, to put it lightly.

You linger in the back seat, wondering if you're going to throw up.

"Is everything okay?" The driver asks.

"Do you… You don't know whose house this is, do you?"

"Mary McDonald's," he says knowledgeably. "Mr. Lupin is waiting for you inside."

You take it for what it is, a dismissal. "Right. Sorry. Thank you," you tell him as you climb out.

He has the kindness to roll down a window. "You'd do well to be careful. Celebrities are… a different breed to us," he says cryptically.

You watch him pull away in horror.

This is where it would be great to call Remus, only your phone had died in the car and everything is starting to feel like a total disaster. Through the open door you can see that the house is teeming with people and movement and sound, lights and drinks.

There's two huge bouncers manning the door. You approach the one with the clipboard though you're seriously considering turning around and walking home.

You give him your name and he stares. "With Remus Lupin."

He looks skeptically to your side.

"I think he's inside," you squeak.

The guy checks his list and evidently finds you because you get nodded in.

It's worse once you're actually past the threshold. You've never seen so many people, so many people with so much money. It's clear in everything about them. Designer clothes and perfect hair and better bodies. You feel a little sharp pain of nerves every time you remember whose house this is.

You see a flash of familiar hair and decide to start there. Through a moving crowd of people and shoes that crush your toes to the living room, where Sirius Black stands to the side with an actor you're intimidated by and said actor's model girlfriend. Your two seconds from spinning on your heel when he locks eyes with you and grins. Really grins.

"Hey! Sweet thing!" You freeze. He gestures with his hand. The way he does it, like he's entirely unused to gesturing his hand and not having the person cede his command, is both hot and infuriating. Rockstars, you think wryly.

"Hey," you say, not loud enough. He gets it anyway.

"Now how are you here? We have met before, right?"

"Right. At Devys Centre."

"Right…" He squints and points his glass toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge. "Not stalking me, are you?"

You're suddenly so grateful to him you can't speak. His arrogance, while charming on him, is huge, and it makes you laugh. Your shoulders relax, your jaw softens, the stress of being here and not knowing anybody fading just slightly.

"No, I'm not stalking you."

He steps closer and he smells like expensive cologne, like fake leather worth enough money to look real, like cognac worth a thousand a bottle.

"Then why are you here?"

"She's here as my date," Remus says from behind you.

Which is not what he said on the phone. The word date was never mentioned. Its clarification emboldens you, has you beaming as you turn your head to see him. You've talked over the phone, sure, but that's only been a couple times a week for two weeks, and you only ever met him one time. There's no guarantee that this is going to work. That he even wants you.

"Hey," he says, as if he's said it a hundred times before, as if you're familiar.

You really want this to work.

"Hi," you say, smiling softly.

He dots a friendly kiss over the apple of your cheek and his hand grasps your shoulder lightly as he turns his gaze to his bandmate. His fingers are long. The press into your skin and the pressure is awfully nice. "Where's James?" Remus asks.

"That's what I'd love to know," Sirius says, smooth. He suppresses a smile badly. "I didn't realise we'd be seeing you again," he says to you.

"Go bother somebody else," Remus says. He talks with a casual boredom that Sirius is obviously used to.

"I'm gonna go find Jamie," he says. It's a promise of something but you don't know what.

As soon as he moves Remus is taking his hand from your shoulder. You spin in place to face him and find yourselves very close, his dark brown eyes trained on you, moving a little less than amicably over your figure.

"You look amazing," he says.

You should say the same. You'd managed to forget how good looking he is. You are sorely reminded.

"You too," you say pathetically.

"I tried to call you half an hour ago."

"Sorry, my phone died."

"No, don't be. I was worried maybe this wasn't the best place for a first date. I'm not trying to scare you off so quickly."

You smile and rub your lips together, gloss sticky as you say, "I didn't know this was a date."

"Is that okay with you?" he asks.

His voice enamours you; the lilting cadence of his concern and the genuineness of his question is endearing beyond words.

"Yeah, it's okay."

He smiles and brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with the broad of his thumb just once before you're interrupted.

"What's he look so chuffed about?" a loud voice asks.

"Baby's first groupie," Sirius says.

"Don't be fucking disgusting," Remus says. There's a quiet heat there that twists your chest.

"Groupie as in enthusiastic," Sirius corrects himself, winking at you as he appears at one shoulder.

A second presence at the other. "Hi, shortcake. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" James Potter asks jokingly. He inclines his head at Remus, who, to your astonishment, seems to be blushing. "With this vagabond?"

"A girl like me?" you ask.

"Jesus christ," Remus mutters.

You catch his eyes and smile at him until he smiles back, hoping to reassure him though you're not sure what for. His expression softens.

"That's bad. That's really bad," Sirius says to James like you're not there, endlessly amused. "S'like I'm watching you and Lilykins."

"Like looking in a mirror," James sing-songs.

"I'd assume there was much less contempt on our front," Remus says.

James protests loudly and enraged whilst you repeat the word 'our' to yourself, grinning. Our, as in us, as in there's an us, no matter how small it might be.

"Do you want a drink?" Remus asks you over the low din of his friends.

"Sure."

Remus holds his hand out and you take it. He has big hands. His fingers fit through yours like they were made to. You let him drag you to a kitchen full of too many celebrities to count. He only looks at you.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #marauders era #marauders #marauder x reader #x reader #rockstar!au

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tickle-bugs · 1 year

Note

For the writing thingie, maybe ler!Robin lee!Steve? The phrase could be “Steve, don’t make me sit on you again…”

your honor, they are everything to me. hope u enjoy!! still trying to figure out robin tbh

Under Covers

Robin leans her bike against the garage, careful not to scrape. Steve’s home--his car sits idle in the driveway, waiting patiently to ferry them both to Family Video. They’re already late, technically, but they’re not late late yet.

An argument could be made that she could simply bike to work, admonishing Steve from the high horse of punctuality, but that’s no fun.

She jiggles her key in the lock and throws the door open, dumping her bag by the door. It’s quiet and dark downstairs, the kitchen unused, neither of which are a good sign. Steve’s usually a morning person, but on the days where he isn’t, he has to be surgically removed from sleep. It’s a coin toss, really, if he’s late over his hair or late for oversleeping and his hair.

She inhales as much as her lungs can manage, then: “Steeeeeeevvvvveeeeee!”

No response. She scowls.

She helps herself to a glass of orange juice and promptly rinses the glass, never one to make extra work for Steve when possible. Bothering him, yes, but inconveniencing him? Not if she can help it.

She thumps up the stairs two at a time. Steve’s bedroom door is cracked open when she gets there, exposing the comically lumpy mass of blankets on his bed and the upsetting pile of laundry in not one, but two corners of the room. Robin has half a mind to do a running jump onto the bed, but he’s gotten way too good at convincing her to take pre-work naps. They need this job. Unfortunately.

“Steve. Steven. Steeb.” Robin leans in the doorframe, biting her lip on an affectionate smile. Steve’s hair pokes out just at the top of the blanket pile.

“Don’t make me sit on you,” She says a little louder, moving over to the left side of the bed. Steve wrinkles his nose and makes a grumbly noise.

“Three, two--”

“Bobin?” He mumbles, squinting at her.

She pounces. He screams, muffled by the blanket, but then he tumbles into wild giggles and flails for purchase.

“Get up, get up, get up!” She squeezes at his sides through the blanket, feeling around blindly but knowing intimately where to strike. His arms fly free of the blanket and he starts grappling with her, trying to poke at her like the bastard he is, but she’s on a goddamn mission. Either they’re getting to work on time (unlikely) or he’s going to die (still on the table).

“Get. up.” She starts tickling his ribs, sliding up under his arms every time he tries to swat at her. Steve honest-to-god snorts, which she didn’t know he could do. She catalogues it for later.

“W-Why--Ah, Robin, nohoho!” Steve whines and covers his face. She starts poking at his stomach, speeding up whenever he tries to grab her. His laughter revs like an engine. He twists away suddenly, curling up on his side and as close to the edge of the bed as he can physically get. Robin chuckles at him and tazers his side. He makes no sense. Only Steve would forfeit all the empty space in his bed rather than use it to escape.

“We’re late, dingus!” She reaches back and squeezes his thigh. He shrieks like his life depends on it, voice cracking around his laughter in that way she loves.

“I’m up!” Steve wheezes, lunging forward to grab her wrists. She squeezes again and he crumples into the mattress, throwing his head back against the pillows. He tries to say her name, or possibly curse at her, but all that comes out is a jumble of syllables and frantic, nervous giggles.

“No, if you were up, you’d be getting ready.” She pauses, just to prove her point. Steve pushes his hair out of his face and fixes her with the bitchiest look he can manage. She grins. He scowls.

“I’ll drag you out of bed if I have to.” She crosses her arms. When he wriggles down into the bed like an indignant little worm, he earns her wrath. It’s only natural. She’s given him an out and a half. Robin feels around under the blanket and grabs Steve’s ankle, skittering her nails over the curve of his heel and up. It’s a fast track to a black eye, but she’s gotten quicker lately.

There’s a screechy peal of laughter, then a thump--a loud one, and not from Steve’s side. Robin peers over the right side of the bed, feeling for the nearest pillow to defend herself from whatever creatures might lurk in here.

Instead, she finds Eddie Munson. His hair’s a mess, more so than usual, and his face is bright pink. He’s oddly jittery.

“What.” Robin and Eddie blink at each other. She looks down at her hand, clutched around what is decidedly not Steve’s foot, then back up at Eddie. He gives her a sheepish wave.

“Oh my god.” She drops Eddie’s ankle. Eddie. Here. In Steve’s bed.

“Robin--” Steve holds his hands out soothingly.

“Oh my god.” She drops her head in her hands.

“Is that a good ‘oh my god’ or do I need to change my locks?” Eddie asks from somewhere beside her. He climbs back up onto the bed and drops beside her. The mattress dips to accept him.

“Still deciding,” She groans. Steve rubs her back, murmuring something soft and sickeningly fond in Eddie’s direction. She’s happy for Steve--god, she’s over the fucking moon for him, really. She teases him because someone needs to, but her heart swells knowing there was a resolution to all the yearning passing between the two of them.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I should’ve been the first to know!” Robin smacks Steve’s bare chest. He catches her hand.

“Well, you’re like the third to know.” Robin glares at him, but Steve throws his hands up in surrender. “Kidding! Third, because me and Eddie. Honestly, Rob, we were gonna tell you.”

“We’re, uhm, still figuring it out.” Eddie nudges her shoulder, but his shmoopy eyes are firmly on Steve. Gross.

“Alright, well…I have questions. So many questions. But first--” She pokes his chest as aggressively as possible. Eddie copies her, hitting Steve’s stomach instead.

“Up, yes, I knohow--” Steve’s voice breaks on a giggle. He crumples awkwardly into Robin, twisting away from Eddie. Robin’s tempted to help, but she leans away from Steve to give Eddie more access. Drama’s more fun, anyhow. Steve doesn’t laugh nearly enough.

“No--” Steve points accusingly at Eddie. Eddie only grins wider in response.

“You’ve given me a tremendous gift, Buckley!” Eddie cackles, wiggling his fingers into Steve’s sides. Steve yelps and bolts, managing to skid in the bathroom and slam the door before Eddie can vault over the bed. Robin and Eddie both chuckle.

“Sorry if I helped make you late,” Eddie says, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. A devious little idea grows in the back of her head.

“Yeah, you did.” She lunges at him with an evil laugh. Eddie squeaks and tries to scramble away, but Robin’s on him already, heart growing three sizes at the now-pair of dinguses she’d never choose to live without.

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #stranger things #steeb and bobin <3 #ticklish!steve harrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #steddie #yes robin has a key to steve's house #also eddie was 100% helping robin tickle steve she just didn't know #god i missed these three so much. i miss writing them!!!!

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sturniolotrip-samandcolby-lover · 1 month

Text

Matt sturniolo -little bean

Warnings -swearing,mention of abortion, mention of sex , vomiting use of y/n, arguing .Small age gap (matt 20 and reader 22) silent treatment

Angst/fluff Matt

Author note -thinking of making this into a series so let me know what you all think

Part 1

Word count-2k

I brush the hair out of my face ,as I wake up to a empty house.The house was full of silence as my boyfriend Matt and his triplets brother had left the house already for some business meetings taking place at the ware house.I look at the clock on my phone 10:47am shit thats late for me and im still shattered i dont even feel like ive slept at all. Im awoken from my sleepy daze by my stomach rumbled ,I get up brush my hair quickly and head to the kitchen to get something to eat .

I raid the fridge and cupboards in search for something to eat , I decide to have chopped up lettuce,pickled gherkins and some jolly ranchers .I finish my breakfast and head to the couch to watch some TV ,as I sit down I see a note that's been left on the coffee table it said 'hey baby me Chris and nick have got a few more meetings today then what we thought might be abit later home will bring back some late lunch with us .Matt xxxx'. A smile is present on my face the whole time I read his quick note with my cheeks blushed , Matt's smallest actions can still have a massive effect on me even after being together for over a year now .

I flick through the channels as nothing can satisfy me , I decided to open the YouTube app and put some Sam and Colby on specifically the conjuring from last year's hell week .I'm half way through the video when all of a sudden I feel so nauseous I can feel it building in my stomach like a tornado swirling around inside of me , it starts of slow and the next thing I know I'm running to the nearest bathroom thankfully it's matt and i shared one .I throw the toilet seats up and fall to my knees and close my eyes as the first bit of vomit comes rushing up my throat and out of my mouth .I sit there for the next hour bringing up whats left of this mornings breakfast and last nights dinner.

After minutes of waiting for the sickness to come back .I decided to stand up and reach for my toothbrush and paste ,as I brush my teeth I start to think of anything that could of gave me a bug or if there was a stomach bug going around .After minutes I've came to know conclusion of my sickness when it hits me .....shit Matt and I are usually careful if we don't use a condom we pull out or we get the morning after pill but a while ago I joined the triplets on their 6 million subscribers video .During the night having all the huts to ourselves Matt and I decided to get the hut as far from nick and Chris as possible .It safe to say there was some very animalistic behaviour going on in our tent that night , in the heat of the moment no condom or pull out was used and I could exactly get plan b pill from the gift shop so we just left it and thought well it's not going to happen .

I decide that before I start to get myself worked up in a panic , I'll go to the shop and do a test before the boys get back .Once I feel like I won't be sick again I go and throw some leggings and a jumper on leaving my top to go bra-less as I'm reminded of some achiness in them .I throw some crocs on and grab my car keys as i head out .

*Arrives back from shop*

I walk back into the house and I'm thankful that it's still silent meaning I'm the only one here .This is my first ever pregnancy scare so I'm not expert , I end up buying 7 different tests and some mints to settle my stomach and yet some more gherkins.I wonder around the kitchen with my hands full of tests in search of a cup or container as i dont feel like peeing 6 different times .I decided to keep one unused so i can do it again with matt incase he doesn't believe me .After finding a disposable cup I drink 3 cups of water and walk around the house doing some cleaning while I wait for the water to hit my bladder .I feel a urge to pee and walk to the bathroom, I position the disposable cup where it's supposed to be and let me bladder do it's job I open all the tests and when I'm finished place the 6 sticks into the cup .I start pacing the bathroom but decided that wouldn't be the best thing to do in this situation .So I make my way to the kitchen and put a kettle on figuring that a hot drink may help my nerves while killing the time awaiting the tests.I walk back to the bathroom once then minutes are up and as I pull all the tests out I stand in shock as they all say the same ....I'm pregnant.

Fuck fuck fuck is the only word that is running in my head , what am I going to do ,what am I going to say , what's Matt going to say his career is at its prime right now what will a baby do with this .Fuck their triplets , twins run on my side of the family what if there's more then one baby in there .I hold onto one of the tests in my shaky hands as I pace the bathroom.After minutes of walking around the small white tiled room I decided to hide all the tests and put them in a draw in Matt and my bedroom and I decide to text matt.

Y/n: hey babe was just wondering do you know how long you're gonna be xx

My phone pings instantly telling me that most likely it woul be Matt had texted me back

Matt:yeah not long just grabbing some maccies won't be long everything okay at home ? Xx

Y/n: yeah just got something to talk to you about xx

I avoid my phone until he gets back .I'm startled as I hear the door fling open and just one set of foot steps ."y/n?" I hear his familiar voice Matt is calling after me ."in the living room" I shout back to him .Seconds later he appears looking as perfect as usual "where's Chris and nick?" I ask him "they was fucking around when we was supposed to be signing cards for merch getting sent out so they went back to the warehouse to do their signing , Laura is gonna drop them off later tho .What's this thing you wanna talk about?" I pause with words moving rapidly around my head trying to think of the right way to tell him that I'm now pregnant with his child .I decide that no words are the right words so I take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom.

His body stills while his eyes move over what the tests all say .The room is silent , too silent."Matt says something " I say breaking the silence ."when did it happen" he says still not taking his eyes off the tests "at the safari , in the hut that night" I respond back to him "fuck" he mutters to himself as he storms out the door .I stand there in silence as my eyes well up with tears.I hear the jingle of Matt's car keys and the door slamming telling me that Matt had left again and gone in his car .I walk into the living room now numb with emotions my hand rests on my lower stomach now knowing that through the layers of skin and muscle is our baby ,my baby the size smaller then a bean in this moment I know that I've got to keep this baby wether Matt wants it or not .

Minutes pass and my nauseous feeling comes over me again as I run to the bathroom again.I spend all the best part of an hour again with my head in the toilet when I stand up again feeling weak at my knees I brush my teeth for the 3rd time today trying to get rid of the vile aftertaste left in my throat .I hear the door go again but i hear 3 set of footsteps this time ,and voices nick ,Chris and matts voice ."what are you gonna do bro?" I hear Chris ask Matt "I don't know"he responds "well you and y/n have gotta talk this out Matt you can't just leave her in the bathroom like you did last time " I hear nick snap at the boys .

"Y/n" I hear nick call out me ."I'm on the bathroom just about to come out" I shout back as I walk into the kitchen .Matt's angry stare softens as he seen my face , I'm now pale and clammy with my skin layered in a thin amount of sweat ."congratulations" Chris says breaking the tension in the room "thank you" I say with a half smile ."so I think you two have gotta talk about this" nick states ."I'm not getting rid of it" I say quickly that being the only thing I'm sure of right now ."I wasn't even going to suggest that" Matt says with anger in his voice .Nick ,places his hand up to Matt in a urge to shush him "calm Matt" he says to him."is it mine ?"matt asks me looking me in the eye "are you fucking kidding me" i say in the exact tone that matt has.Nick and chris take this as a hint and both excuse themselves to different rooms "yeah I'm being real" he says raising his voice , it being full with anger ."you're the only person I've slept with matt you know that" i say to him storming off into our shared room .

*Few hours later*

I hear a knock at the bedroom door hoping that it's Matt ."come in" I shout sounding optimistic.The door opens and nick strides in with a sorry smile on his face "so that was intense" he says as he sits down next to me on the bed "yeah" i agree with him ."so i dont know if this is the right thing to say but im really glad your'e keeping the baby" he says nudging my arm ."yeah i am too , i just hope that matt feels the same " i say smiling properly for the first time today ."alright its getting late so I'll leave you to sleep i heard creating a baby can be tiring "he says with a small laugh.

Just as nick leaves the room Matt enters it , he ignores me acting as if I'm not in the room as he goes to the wardrobe grabbing some spare pillows and duvet he walks back out of the room as I sit in bed listening to him getting comfortable on the sofa .I think to myself how much of a long night I'm in for I can never sleep properly when I'm not with Matt and even worse knowing that he's mad at me .As the thoughts come to my head added with the extra hormones that pregnancy has brought on my eyes start to fill with tears when they fall down my face .I have so many questions running over my head thinking how I'm going to bring up a baby by myself although nicks previous words bring some form of comfort to me .As the clock strike 4 am and im still wide awake and emotional i decide to head to the bathroom and take a calming bath .Im thankful that both nick and chris's rooms are on different levels as I run the tab the sound of water echos through the room .I rid of my clothes and get into the bath now full of bubbles I close my eyes in attempt to relax.

Suddenly my nauseousness creeps up on me again , who ever called morning sickness 'morning' has never experienced this cus it seems to be all throughout the day already .I jump up from the bath with my wet hair sticking to my body as I move quickly to the toilet I throw the lid up and sit on the floor as bile begins to leave my body .I startled as a soft towel is wrapped around my body ,I look up to see Matt crouching next to me with his eyes full of tears himself .His hand rubs circles on my back as I start gagging again ."let it out baby it's okay" he whispers I release bile 3 more times as I pull back and rest my head on Matt's shoulder as he pushes my hair out of my face ."come on let's go to bed and talk " he says so quietly careful not to wake his two brothers up .He stands up and picks me up bridal style still with the towel wrapped around me .He carries me to our bed and uses his foot to close the door as he places me gently on the bed .He goes to our wardrobe and fetches me some shorts and one of his tops , he helps me get dressed as my body is weak from the vomiting.Once I'm dressed I lay in bed as Matt walks over to the other side of the bed and jumps in to bed with me .I sit waiting for him to speak "y/n im sorry for what i said and done earlier i know that you would never cheat on me and id never ask you to get rid of it .Whatever you choose ill support you .Im sorry ive treated you like that when you needed me the most ..." I cut his speech off with a kiss "I know , I know babe and we're going to be fine I want to keep this baby tho" I say to him looking him in his eyes "we're going to be a mommy and daddy" he says to me smiling ."we best tell our parents" I say to him before falling asleep in his arms .

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfiction #like #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #mattsturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #baby #stories #series #part 1 #parts #comment #folow4folow

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alexies101 · 2 months

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This was so much fun to write lmao. Tagging @icarusbetide and @fortheloveofgodletmein for the idea lmao. I had to get into my miserable HS experience so far to make this extra special lol

Alexander Hamilton was an immigrant who moved to America three years ago. He lives with Lafayette and Mulligan because apparently it's okay for two teenage boyfriends to live together and have another teenager live with them. He goes to American Revolution High.

"Mon ami." Lafayette said as they walked into their JROTC class. "Are you excited?"

"Yes." Alexander flipped his brown hair with his baby hands. He was 3'2 and probably four pounds soaking wet. Meanwhile, everyone else was seven feet tall and weighed as much as fucking buildings.

They walked in the class that was buzzing with excitement because nobody sleeps in jrotc. They sat down before Thomas Jefferson and James Madison threw paper at him. Those two were the bullies of the class and nobody liked them, but they stayed in the class for some reason.

"Alright, cadets!" Their teachers, George Washington, shouted as he walked around the room. "We have two new cadets. I'm sure all of you will be kind and treat them with the utmost regard."

Two tall students walked in. Immediately, Alexander and Lafayette acted bisexual. The one with the long golden curls, green eyes, and freckles was called John Laurens. The other one was brown-eyed, curly-haired, and stupidly muscular.

"Look, cadet Hamilton is blushing."

Alex played with his hair as birds flew around his head. "S-shut up Jefferson..."

"Why don't you sit next to my son?" Washington ordered as he pointed to Alex. "Mulligan, you sit next to Lafayette."

"Not your son."

Immediately, they hit it off and yap throughout the class because why not.

------

Alexander and John were making out in the back of Mulligan's car, where he was kissing Lafayette. This was all after John told them how abusive his dad is and they all decided they needed a gay makeout session to relax. But they all made a grave mistake: they were making out in uniform. Hiding in the bushes, Jeffershit got a picture.

"Wait until the program hears about this!" He shoved the phone in Aaron Burr's face, who magically became best friends with him and Madison in like two days.

He grabbed the picture. "This is great! With this, all those little shits will be thrown out. I'll be promoted!" He grabbed Madison's small shoulders. "We all will!"

"Let's him know what we know."

-----

When Hamilton walked into homeroom, someone pulled him aside into the unused staircase. There were they all there, his three bullies since Freshman year looking like they won the jackpot.

"We know your secret." They showed him your picture. His heart fell to his stomach. "Give us one reason why we shouldn't pass this to every single cadet in the program."

"Because..." sweat got on the floor. "It isn't true."

"What to do mean, Alexander?" Burr grinned. "We caught you lacking."

"I kissed another girl." Their eyes popped out their heads. "And I have proof!"

"Um-" Madison coughed up blood mid sentence like a little Victorian child, looking sadly into his handkerchief. "-no, there's no nee-"

Alexander showed them all a picture of him kissing Maria Reynolds, the hottest and sluttiest cadet in the program's history. "I kissed her with our covers on!"

"Um, bra listen," Jefferson said, smoothing out his magnesia uniform. "We won't tell anyone."

"You don't have to, I'll tell everyone before you tell them!" And just like that, he ran away like an anime girl, wind blowing his ponytail.

He ran into the bathroom and locked himself in the biggest stall. He pulled at his hair as the thunderstorm started. He began to hyperventilate.

"Mon ami?" Lafayette appeared because he always knows where Alexander is. "It's time for class, bonjour."

He got up and quickly walked to class. He saw the three mean cadets and broke down by the door.

"Son!" Washington cried as him and all of his friends rushed to him before he passed out.

-----

He woke up a day later in the hospital. John cried as he kissed his face. Washington walked up to him, wiping his big ass tears.

"Don't worry, son. I kicked out the three of them because they started to have sex together in front of the class after you passed out."

He hugged him like a sick little child and whispered, "Thank you, dad..."

Everyone exploded the end.

#fanfics #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #i wrote this #writeblr #hamilton #hamilton musical #alexander hamilton #hamilton fanfiction #lams #john laurens #washington #im cringing so hard #imsosorry

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lucolocoo · 2 months

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A little something to add to this image⁉️⁉️⁉️

WARNING: I am not a constant writer I probably haven't written anything since late 2020 so it will be BAD, enjoy! (Also constructive criticism is welcomed try not to b to mean I'm jus a girl 🎀)

Simon and you were out at a military party for Simon's departure from the military, it was at some small local bar that had military discounts so it seemed right, you were sitting at the bar as simon and price were talking, simon walks over still chuckling from whatever joke price coughed up, simon hands you the weapon, you were kinda take aback originally because you thought it was still functional, but he assured you it was dismantled and unusable, he told you to hold it for him while he talked to the others, you had met them all already so nothing new to you, eventually it got super late and it was time to head out as you gathered your items and simon said his farewells, even though they are definitely gonna hang and grab a drink in a few days, you wake out gun in hand simon right behind you hand on the arch of ur back walking to the car, he opens the door and helps you in and he walks around the car and gets in, putting the key in the ignition, he asks what you thought about the party you said it was fun glad you got to meet them all again, you said your feet were hurting due to the high heels, he let you lay your legs on his lap and gun across your legs as he starts up the car and drives home you pull out your phone and decide to take a photo because you thought it was cute, he chuckles a bit and looks at you slightly smiling a bit wondering how he got such a cute woman.

Ik that sucked but CUT ME SOME SLACK PLEASE

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

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i totally get that i tried not to watch it all at once too but failed epically 💔 anyway i really love the way you write chishiya’s thoughts and point of view so i was thinking something post-series where he finds the reader again, like their version arisu/usagi reuniting and the deja vu they feel !

Helooo! It was difficult writing this one because I don't want to encroach on the ending to my fic. So I had to make a completely different reunion instead.

I think it's funny though. When the characters don't remember each other in the series, it's tragic. But when it's a romantic pair who don't remember each other, but they each seem familiar, somehow it's sort of romantic. In a tragic way.

Anyway, let me know if you want a part 2!

--------------------------------------------------------

One minute.

That was all it took for the axis of your world to tilt, changing forever.

The world had never been so lively, and yet so empty. It had only been one week since the meteor’s impact, and even in that short time, the communities across Tokyo’s 23 wards had banded together, rebuilding businesses and homes, donating to charities who cleared rubble and funded survivors’ treatments, taking in children who had been left orphaned.

But the wreckage still remained in plain sight. Not just in the demolished sectors of Shibuya, but in your heart. This emptiness. Like a constant shiver, even the warmth of the sun wasn’t enough to drive out this hollowness. You had suffered cardiac arrest for just sixty seconds, but it felt as though you had been gone for weeks.

Months, even.

Trapped, suffering somewhere else in a faraway land.

And now that you were back, nothing was the same. Your arm was still almost unusable, and would be until your scheduled surgery to repair the nerve damage. But that didn’t bother you. Your injuries were simply collateral damage. There was something else missing - a hole in your life carved out like the crater on the other side of the city.

And that’s why you found yourself here, sitting in a stuffy meeting room in the hospital. The chairs were arranged in a perfect circle, and written on a whiteboard, the words ‘Meteor Crisis Trauma Recovery Programme’ just felt patronising. Aside from yourself, nobody else had arrived yet.

You were so bored sitting here alone, and the room was too warm, too humid. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of your neck, but the thought of relaxing by a pool in a swimsuit felt oddly uncomfortable.

When will everyone else get here?

Playing with the gauze material of your sling, you jumped when the door finally opened, revealing a patient you had never seen before. A man in a wheelchair with shoulder length blond hair. Was it blond or silver? A strange mixture of both. A nurse held the door open for him as he wheeled himself into the room, before allowing the door to shut softly behind him. He looked at the writing on the whiteboard, scrutinising it with a lazy curiosity.

And then your eyes met.

There was a flicker in your chest. A memory. Of something strange? Blood trickling from a bullet wound… foliage so overgrown it was winding around the bodies of cars… distant gunshots from out in the city… a hotel, burning like an inferno against the night sky.

This couldn’t be right. They weren’t your memories.

You played with the strap of your bag, avoiding his gaze. But the mysterious man wheeled up into the space directly across from yours, and it became harder to ignore him.

‘I’m assuming I’m in the right room.’

His voice was deep, a little husky with tiredness, and strangely familiar though you had never heard it before.

‘If you’re here for the trauma group,’ you said.

‘Your arm?’

‘Ah… yeah. I got stuck under bricks.’

He didn’t have any visible injuries that I could see, but then he tilted his head and a bandage could be seen peeking through the collar of his blue hospital gown. ‘Pierced by two building rods,’ he said.

‘Ouch. You’re lucky you lived.’ A thought suddenly occurred to you. ‘Did you also go into cardiac arrest?’

‘One minute.’

‘So you too, huh?’ You mulled it over, the strangeness of all this. ‘Do you think it’s really possible? What are the chances of this many people suffering a one minute cardiac arrest at the same time?’

‘It’s possible,’ he said, ‘because it happened.’

You looked at him closer, less wary of him now. But those strange memories still persisted, haunting the recesses of your mind behind a thick wall of fog. From the darker roots of his hair, to the mole under his eye, the slight smirk playing on his lips. It was like running into an old friend, but you definitely hadn’t met before.

‘Chishiya,’ he said.

That’s his name?

You introduced yourself too, and quickly dismissed the writing on the whiteboard. ‘I’m not actually traumatised. I got peer pressured into being here by my nurse.’

He half-smiled. ‘I’m here to escape the guy in the next bed over. His coughing is getting annoying.’

Maybe Chishiya also felt the way you did. Maybe he also felt this strange familiarity. You opened your mouth to ask, but then the door opened and several others entered the room, followed by the hospital staff member running the session.

It was the same people every time; a man with a patch over one eye - the eye he lost… a teenage girl who had lost her leg, also in a wheelchair… a woman who suffered burns across her body, but who was really here after losing her baby… another woman with long, beautiful braids… A couple of the others were new faces you had never seen.

The session began the way it always did, going around the circle and stating something you’re grateful for. More often than not, people just gave up thinking and replied with ‘my life’. When it came to your turn, you answered with ‘family’. Similar responses echoed around the room, until it came to Chishiya’s turn.

‘The peace and quiet,’ he said, without hesitation.

You snickered, trying to hold back your smile. The group leader smiled in confusion, as did most people, but Chishiya’s eyes met yours across the circle, sharing in your amusement.

The rest of the session was a snoozefest, and in truth it was all very difficult to listen to. Uou were grateful when it ended and everyone stood to leave. Aside from Chishiya, of course. Gathering your things, you slung your bag onto your uninjured shoulder as best you could. However, as you made to leave, you realised that Chishiya was waiting for everyone else to vacate the room first… yourself included. You stopped in front of his chair.

‘I’d offer to push you, but, you know.’ You gestured to your sling.

He smirked. ‘If you want to help, you could hold the door open.’

And because he asked so nicely, you did. He wheeled himself out into the corridor and you followed behind. Neither of you had asked where the other was going, but you silently followed Chishiya, presumably back to his room. If he minded, he didn’t say anything.

Maybe, on second thought, this was the perfect time to say something.

‘Hey, can I ask you a question about the meteor incident?’

He didn’t reply, but you could tell he was listening.

‘After I woke up, everything felt strange. It still does. Like I’ve spent weeks in a different place, but I can’t remember where I’ve been all this time. And sometimes I remember random things that don’t make sense. The colour red scares me, and I keep finding scars but I can’t remember what caused them. And fireworks… I remember seeing fireworks, but they were fireworks right across Toyko. Everywhere.’ I didn’t tell him about what I’d remembered after seeing him. ‘Have you felt anything similar? Has anything changed since you woke up?’

He hummed. ‘That’s two questions.’

‘Please just tell me I’m not going crazy.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not. After I woke up, I realised I was wasting my life. I remember strange things too… like lasers.’

Lasers! Lasers are red.

It was an oddly specific thing to remember, but so was grass and leaves growing over cars. Were they just figments of your imagination? After-effects of cardiac arrest? The two of you slowly made your way through the hospital, bypassing physicians and nurses who marched around, trying to manage the new influx of patients after the accident. Eventually, Chishiya came to a stop by a door.

The door to his hospital room.

He looked at you slyly. ‘Are you going to follow me inside too?’

‘No! Of course not.’ You instinctively took a step back. ‘I actually wanted to ask you something else. You seem really familiar, but I can’t remember where I might have met you.’

He tilted his head. ‘That wasn’t a question.’

‘No, but would you consider meeting up one day? Maybe when you’re discharged from this place. I think… I think I remember lasers too.’

He mulled over the offer with a face that betrayed nothing. ‘Can you play chess?’

Chess?

‘Yeah, but I’m not very good.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘Come back tomorrow and bring a chess board. It’s boring staring out of the window.’

Something shifed in your chest, a spark of excitement, and for one split second that emptiness had lifted. You beamed, unable to hold back your joy. ‘I’ll be there!’

Chishiya regarded you with skepticism. ‘I don’t see why you’re so excited, you haven’t met my roommate yet.’

As if summoned, a brash slur sounded from behind the closed door. ‘Oi! Nurse Lady, aren’t you going to change my bandages or what?’

Inside, there was a female shriek, and the door swiftly opened as a startled nurse hurried out. You shied away, unnerved already. What kind of weirdo was Chishiya rooming with, anyway? You didn’t relish the thought of meeting this guy, especially if he was willing to treat a nurse that way. However, Chishiya was unfazed by what we had just witnessed.

‘Does that happen a lot?’

‘Unfortunately,’ he huffed. ‘I wouldn’t look so worried. He’s bedridden with burns, so he’s all talk.’

‘If you say so,’ you mumbled, eyeing the door warily. You didn’t like the idea of meeting this mysterious roommate, but you wanted - no, you needed - to figure out what these memories meant.

Promising to bring a chessboard next time, you parted ways with Chishiya. As you walked away, you were exquisitely aware of his eyes following you, and deep down, you know he felt it too. This magnetic pull between you.

But what did it mean?

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu

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