#i have two modes: fluff and angst

[desfraisespartout]

Torturing myself with a bad end What If scenario in which Ultima manipulated Dion into killing Terence.

My heart is bleeding... 😭

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 2

(Click here to read chapter 1)

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 2.5K

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.

⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic

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As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.

“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.

“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.

“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.

“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.

You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.

You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table. 

“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.

“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”

“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.

“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.

“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”

“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.

You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.

You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.

You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.

But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.

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

Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study. 

He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow. 

Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow. 

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Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.

You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.

Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.

“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves. 

The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat. 

“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”

He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”

“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.

“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”

You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself. 

“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”

Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.

Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.

You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.

Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down. 

“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.

“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.

“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried. 

[bradshawsbaby]

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part One

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Lucifer x daughter! reader x Lilith

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Forced child abandonment

Notes: This is my first Hazbin mini fic. This will be a mini series, so there will be a part two but it may take a little while as I tend to get busy with work and school - so please, bare with me.

Words: 880

"No! No! Please!"

It's no surprise Lucifer and Lilith fooled around a bit during their days in the Garden of Eden.

What was surprising was the moment Lilith discovered she was pregnant.

Despite the shock and slight fear of being new parents, Lucifer and Lilith were overjoyed at the news.

When they found out the baby was going to be a girl, the two cried in pure happiness.

Lucifer became adamant, and a little overbearing, about doing everything for Lilith not wanting her to overwork herself or the baby. This did annoy Lilith (being the independent woman she was), but she knew he just wanted to make sure she and the baby were safe.

When Lilith went into labor, Lucifer went into full panic mode (imagine that one scene from The Office)

Lucifer: *freaking out* "OMG! IT'S HAPPENING! DON'T PANIC, HONEY!

Lilith: *calmly packing the hospital bags*

Lucifer may have passed out during the delivery when his curiosity got the best of him and decided to see what was going on down there (I imagine seraphim's or angels born in Heaven aren't born the natural way and instead created through magic).

Lucifer woke up from the sounds of crying and when he came to he saw a tiny body being carried by one of the nurses.

After rejoining Lilith's side (and making sure she was okay while profusely apologizing for passing out) they waited for the nurses to clean up the baby.

The moment the two saw one of the nurses bring over a pink bundle, their hearts filled with unbridled love and joy.

She was so small and had tuffs of blonde hair. She had Lucifer's red cheek circle's and Lilith's eyes.

Lucifer's eyes welled up with tears as he lovingly gazed down at the tiny person in his lover's arms. "She's perfect, Lily".

Lilith agreed with happy tears as she laid a gentle kiss on their daughter's head.

The two named her (Y/N) - (Y/N) Morningstar.

(Y/N) was a lively baby who adopted her father's bubbly and curious personality, as well as his love for ducks.

Her first toy was a duck plushie Lucifer had made himself.

However, despite having everything they could want in the Garden, Heaven, and now their new baby - they wanted something more.

They wanted to share free will with humanity in hopes that Heaven would finally see Lucifer's ideas and change their suffocating rules so (Y/N) could live in a world that wouldn't stifle any of her future dreams.

This lead them to tempt Eve with the apple, causing the unfortunate chain of events that lead to Lucifer and Lilith's trial.

The two were found guilty of bringing evil into humanity and as punishment they would be sent down into Hell.

However, before they sent the family into eternal damnation Heaven decided (Y/N) was innocent as she was only a baby who knew not what her parents had done.

Being a child of a seraphim and one of humanities first human's, they saw potential in her for Heaven's future - so they decided (Y/N) would stay in Heaven while Lucifer and Lilith would go down to Hell.

"Take the child," Sera ordered one of the court angels. "No! No! Please!" Lucifer and Lilith begged with tears falling down their faces as they held (Y/N) closer to them. The court angels forced the wailing (Y/N) out of her crying parents arms.

That was the last time Lucifer and Lilith saw their daugther before being banished to Hell for all eternity.

To keep (Y/N) from discovering her true lineage, Heaven decided that Lucifer's twin brother, Michael, would claim to be her father and raise her as a role model seraphim - one that follows Heaven's rules.

As (Y/N) grew up it became increasingly obvious how much she took after her parents. She had Lucifer's curious and cheerful nature, and Lilith's eyes, long blonde hair, and grace - both her parents beauty present in her features. The perfect combination of the two.

She especially adopted Lucifer's six large wings, only they had a pink under surface and gold tips.

To bypass any questions of her mother, Michael told her that he had created her from stardust with both his and Lilith's likeness - only using Lilith as a reference for a female.

Michael made sure her curious nature didn't go as far as Lucifer's, keeping her busy with her education and where he can keep an eye on her.

To keep her in check he told her about Lucifer and Lilith, but that they were her uncle and aunt who had lost their way and fallen from grace.

When she entered into adulthood, Heaven decided it was time for her to bear more serious responsibilities.

That's how (Y/N) Morningstar Demiurgos became one of Heaven's trial record keepers/recorders (she sometimes sits in trials and writes what's being said for the records).

It was mainly because Michael wanted to her to have a busy office job and away from exploring and getting too curious (he hoped being in trials would satisfy her curiosity, but made sure to keep her from asking too many questions).

And for awhile everything was perfect and in Heaven's favor. . .

. . .Until a certain Princess of Hell came to Heaven with a dream.

[fayes-fics]

(Be)Longing

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

Warnings: None, really. Angst, jealousy, fluff. Shyness and insecurities. Minor character injuries. Time jumps.

Word Count: 5.2k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill here (request: Benedict x shy!insecure reader, with some angst, jealousy fluff, and all the good stuff. Happy ending, of course.). Sorry it took so long to get to this Nonny; I have no idea if this is what you wanted, and I'm really not sure about it, but I hope you enjoy <3

I: Saved

“Unhand her at once!” 

The smooth, confident, older voice rings out across the village green, and suddenly the pack of nasty bullies who have your arms in a grip seem to melt away from around you.

You don’t even think to pause and thank the person who broke up the mob. No, your fight-or-flight response is in full-on flight mode. The minute your arms are released, and you see the break in the circle, you run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Bolting down the road and into the safety of the churchyard near your house. You do not want to run home upset and worry your mother, so you do the next best thing, the thing you are becoming increasingly good at, hiding. You climb a crabapple tree. And then you let the tears flow—just flooding down your cheeks.

You hate this new village your parents have moved you to. Your father, a doctor, had been offered the position as village physician, and now here you are, moved from Surrey to Kent, but it might as well be the other side of the world. You miss your friends. You miss your old village. You are not the most outgoing of people, and the upheaval in your life has been immense. You yearn to be back in your old, familiar, comfortable home.

You are sniffling, taking deep breaths, angrily wiping tears, and preparing to face your family when he appears. 

“Are you alright?” 

You startle. Beneath you, squinting up into the tree, is the owner of the voice who rescued you. Seeing him now, you feel an odd warmth in your ribs. He looks older, maybe fifteen, if you had to guess. He seems benign with a calm face, and his expression is one of sympathy and concern.

“Yes,” you squeak quietly.

“It is safe for you to come down,” he says gently, “should you wish.”

“Are they gone?” you query, wishing you could hide the tremble in your voice.

“They will not bother you again; I can assure you,” he states with absolute certainty.

Your eyes go wide, “What did you do? I don't want to make it worse for my brother,” you fret.

“I told them if they mess with you again, they will have the Bridgerton brothers to contend with,” he nods, with an air that suggests the name is of some local import.

“Is that you?” you ask timidly, not wanting to get down from the tree just yet.

He chuckles. “You must be new here?”

“Yes… we just moved here two weeks ago. Those boys have been tormenting my brother since his first day at school. They appear to have chosen me to pick on as he is not around,” you frown, dusting a twig from your skirt.

“Well, that ends now. Now, do you need help down?” he asks.

“No,” you sniffle, “I am capable.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” he nods politely and steps aside to allow you space to jump down.

With a quick swing, you do so, landing neatly on your little brown boots. You unfurl to your full standing height, but even then, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Very impressive,” he smiles warmly. “I am Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Welcome to Kent.” he thrusts out a hand to shake and, bemused at the formality, you take it and shake as if a businessman, not a ten-year-old girl.

“Thank you, Benedict. I am y/n y/l/n. My father is the new physician,” you gesture vaguely over the church wall towards your home next to the rectory.

“Ahhh,” he nods in understanding.

“And thank you,” you curtsy.

“Whatever for?” he frowns.

“For rescuing me,” you clarify.

“Oh please, that was nothing,” he waves dismissively. “I cannot abide bullies. Or any injustice really,” his eyes appear briefly unfixed, and he looks thoughtful, as if what he said just occurred to him as truth. Then he shakes his head and brings his attention back to you. “You are alright, though, correct? Able to get home?”

“Yes,” you confirm shyly.

“Then I shall be on my way” he tips an imaginary cap at you that makes you giggle, and he smiles goofily before turning away and walking out of the churchyard.

A little part of your heart yearns to follow him, the boy with the hazy, kind eyes and the pleasing smile, who just made your transition into life in the area much more bearable. 

You and your brother are never bothered by that gang of boys again.

II: Envy

“Y/n, this is Miss Clarissa Worthing.” 

Benedict introduces you to the willowy blonde whose hand is looped through the crook of his arm.

“Clarissa, this is Miss y/n y/l/n. She will beat half of my family at Pall Mall once you can coax her out of her shell,” he teases delicately with a friendly glint in his eye that makes your heart flutter against your ribcage.

Clarissa nods in cool acknowledgement, then cranes her neck to whisper something, her lips brushing his earlobe, her regard for you already gone. You curtsy politely, smile weakly and scurry away, feeling clumsy and out of place, unsure of what else to say to this swan-like beauty. 

It's the summer after your fifteenth birthday, and he is back from his second year of university. It doesn't take much to deduce that this is the lady he is currently courting, accompanying him as she is to a garden party at Aubrey Hall. Jealousy clings to your skin like an invisible oily substance and taints your every thought.

Ever since that fateful day when he chased away your bullies, you have carried a torch for Benedict. The year after that incident, you sadly have to attend his father's funeral. Your own father unable to save the Viscount’s life. The forlornness on Benedict’s face as he stood there in the chilly church made your chest ache. You didn’t fully understand why at the time, but your impulse was to go up and wordlessly hold his hand. He looked so utterly unmoored and sad. You didn't, of course; you would never be so bold, but the impulse was so strong, a tingle on your palm that needed to touch him. It was all you could think about for days.

Over the intervening years, your soft spot for him grew with every encounter, the childish admiration morphing into something stronger, a deep-rooted longing. He always seemed to be the one who cared the most—about his siblings, his mum, and even the problems of the wider world. And as your body started to change and you began to feel differently about boys, your feelings for him had another layer of confusing complexity. His was the first face that popped into your head when your friends giggled about boys and talked of marriage. 

Even now, it seems ridiculous to entertain that he would ever pursue you… you are stuck in small village life, the daughter of a doctor, not from a noble family, and he is off in the world, experiencing things you have no notion of. And yet he is the only man you have ever met who intrigues you that way. The idea of marriage not being entirely abhorrent, provided it is to him.

And so you just watch—the perpetual wallflower. Watch as Benedict and Clarissa make the circuit of the party. Effortlessly chatting among various members of the Ton, looking like the picture-perfect young couple.

“Makes you sick, doesn't it?” Eloise’s dry tone pops over your shoulder. 

You smile at Benedict's little sister, just a couple of years younger than you and a kindred spirit at these events, mostly wanting nothing to do with them.

“She is very beautiful,” you offer politely, sipping your lemonade.

“She steals,” Eloise states plainly, making you splutter your drink all over your face and dress, the little immediate crowd of attention it draws to you mortifying. Luckily Benefict is far enough away and otherwise engaged that he does not see it. You are not sure you could live that down.

“That's a scandalous thing to say,” you hiss softly as you blush under the attention of a few strangers and furtively clean yourself with a serviette as best you can.

“Tell that to mother’s silk gloves,” Eloise volleys back, her disgust evident. Apparently oblivious to your embarrassing predicament or perhaps just uncaring of what others think. “She will be gone before the weekend is out, mark my words.”

You don't doubt it, knowing how spirited Eloise is. And how well she has her brother's ear. You know he will instinctively trust what she says as truth. As she marches up to grab his arm and pull him away, mostly, you wish you had more of her bravado, her fearlessness. While you agree with her outlook on many things, you are not built of the mettle she is—not one who draws attention. Still, you watch with a twisted, guilty, but victorious smile as Eloise pulls Benedict aside and has words with him. 

You never hear of Miss Clarissa Worthing again.

III: Jealousy

“Lord Boswell would be a wonderful match, my dear,” your mother smiles encouragingly, handing you a slice of lemon drizzle cake. 

You can't hide the curl of your lip at the mere thought. 

It's the morning after the first ball of the season, just after your twentieth birthday, and you are in the London townhouse your parents have rented for the season, awaiting any suitors to call. Less than three days into your first season, you want the merry-go-round to stop. A dizzying whirl of social engagements you feel unequipped to deal with, wanting nothing more than to be back in Kent, stealing into the grounds of Aubrey Hall with a good book. Perhaps even spend time with Benedict.

Just the very thought of him causes a flare in your belly. Since his return from his studies in Cambridge, he has seemingly moved to Aubrey Hall full-time, spending his days painting the Kentish countryside with hopes of establishing himself as an artist. You have spent more time together in the last year or so than ever before, often finding yourself reading quietly in the shade with Eloise as he paints nearby, his company always somehow a balm as much as a thrill. And it feels as if there has been a subtle shift in how he regards you, giving you the unbearable lightness of hope. Perhaps he sees you in a different light now that you have come of age, no longer the child you were. There have been some moments where he has looked at you and felt it, like a weight on your skin; even as you doubt many other things about yourself, you don't doubt there is something there—a most wondrous and perplexing development.

Your butler bustles in and announces something that makes your heart leap into your throat.

“Mr Benedict Bridgerton has arrived.”

Your mother's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, giving you a sideways glance. A Bridgerton, even if not the Viscount, would be more than sufficient in her eyes. Especially one known so well to your family.

“To call on Miss y/l/n?” your mother asks, excitement evident in the breathy question.

“Oh no, ma’am, apologies. To see your husband. His brother, the Viscount, has dispatched him here to talk about some business in Kent,” your butler explains, somewhat apologetic as he realises the misconstrued intent.

Your mother’s disappointed face is only a match for your roiling stomach. 

Your father folds his newspaper and jumps up. “I shall meet with him in my study, Jenkins. Please show him there,” and with a nod to you both, he leaves.

It has been just two days since your presentation to the Queen. That had been a waking nightmare. Parading down a long hallway at the Palace to be presented to her majesty filled you with utter dread. All eyes upon you, your every move and inch of appearance judged, and you are certain you were found lacking. Your status is unknown in the Ton; your parents pushing you into the season, hoping for an advantageous match. But you feel they could tell from one look where you belonged—almost invisible, on the periphery, a wallflower. Quiet, reserved, bookish, watching more than participating.

“Lord Boswell is here,” your butler reenters the room moments later.

Your stomach clenches. Your mother can barely contain her glee. You are so confused; you barely spoke two words to the man as you danced the previous night. Your conversation skills were utterly lacking, and he seemingly could not find an engaging topic to broach. You were keen for the music to end so you could return to standing and observing. You cannot believe that awkward interaction would be enough to propel the man to call on you, having said so little to each other just a few hours earlier. And yet here he is, a bunch of flowers in hand and a slightly vacant smile. The fleeting thought of marrying such a dull person makes you mildly nauseated.

Your mother hurries to the other side of the parlour and leaves you to converse, wearing a happy, hopeful expression that you hate to dash. And so you stumble the best you can through small talk. He talks of the weather, his property, and his interests but never asks anything about you—as if he is a candidate for a job you are interviewing for. In some ways, that is perhaps accurate, but part of you yearns for him to show interest in you, not just talk incessantly of himself.

Just as you give up hope of escaping anytime soon, you startle as he lays a hand on yours on the sofa between you. You don't even hear what he is saying anymore, just staring at where his glove covers yours, not liking the sensation, wanting to claw yourself away and withdraw. 

Motion in the doorway makes you look up; Benedict is with your father. And suddenly, your heart is racing. Benedict looks taken aback; something sour in his expression you have never seen before makes you want to run to him and ask what is wrong. But you don't. You do the polite, reserved thing and smile.

“Mrs y/l/n, Lord Boswell,” he greets politely. “Miss y/l/n,” he adds, and you could swear he uses a different, lower register. Something inside you turns pulpy and ripe, blossoming just for him. 

Before you know it, he has taken a seat on the sofa facing yours, shooting you the tiniest of winks that could be an eye twitch, but you know him better than that—seeing the sparkle of mischief in his eye. Your parents seem to exchange nonplussed glances, uncertain why he has chosen to stay.

“Boswell,” Benedict begins, shooting the man his most impervious glance. “What of your qualities make you an ideal suitor for Miss y/l/n here?” he questions.

Boswell splutters and seems taken aback, clearly not expecting such an interrogation, especially from a man who isn't your father or brother. Benedict’s eyes are back on you as the man stumbles through an inadequate and entirely uninteresting response that you do not even listen to. Your whole focus is on Benedict, feeling unable to breathe.

“Hmmm,” Benedict hums as he ends, “and what have you to say about Miss y/l/n’s interests? Are they perhaps complimentary to yours?”

“I… I did not think to ask,” Boswell falters, his cheeks reddening at the faux pas.

Benedict looks almost disgusted. 

“You claim to be interested in providing your suit but ask nothing of what makes her the wonderful person she is?” he scolds, and your mouth opens into a little O of surprise. “Have you not asked her about her excellent marksmanship? How she can shoot an archery target better than anyone else within ten miles of Aubrey Hall? Have you not asked after her artistic skills? You see that cushion you sit next to? That is the work of her fair hand.”

You barely register as Boswell twists to look at the item and then at you; you have eyes for no one but Benedict as he continues, his voice loud and clear even over the sound of your heart pounding hard in your ears.

“Have you asked her about her love for literature and poetry? How she will correct you that it was, in fact, Guildenstern, not Rosencrantz, who enters first in the first folio version of Hamlet?” 

You duck your head and blush. That is precisely what you did to him last year, surprising even yourself with your boldness. And he remembers. 

He continues. “Have you asked about her love of animals? Perhaps you need to hear the tale of Mr Whiskers and how she was able to nurse the beloved cat of my sister Hyacinth back to health. You have not asked her of any such things?!?” his tone incredulous.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can tell that your parents’ faces are as shocked as Boswell’s. And suddenly, you recognise this as a Benedict Bridgerton you have seen before. It’s the one that comes out when defending those he loves against injustice or an unworthy opponent—the staunch guardian. 

“If you cannot find it in yourself to show such interest, I would hope she will entertain better suitors,” Benedict sniffs dismissively. “As a long-term friend, I cannot in all good conscience allow this young woman to be pursued by anyone unworthy of her,” he concludes cuttingly, his nostrils flare, and his lip curls just a fraction as his eyes flit to where Boswell’s hand still rests upon yours.

Even as you struggle through your jumble of thoughts about everything he has said, one question so singular strikes you. Is this is Benedict….. jealous?? Jealous of your suitor? Finding ways to cut into him with his precise knowledge about you? The thought seems so fanciful that you want to dismiss it, but the sliver of possibility it offers is exhilarating. Just the chance of it being true has you utterly undone.

You barely even listen as your father jumps up and, with some belated sense of defence, agrees with Mr Bridgerton and asks Boswell if perhaps he should take his leave and return another day when he has thought of more engaging things to ask of you. Every fibre of your being yearns to talk to Benedict somewhere private, but he gives excuses to leave as quickly as your chastised suitor is dispatched.

Boswell never darkens your door again.

IV:  Rescue

“Penny, for your thoughts,” Eloise smirks as she catches you staring into space on the terrace. Your cheeks blush, and you do not admit to where your thoughts had wandered—to her older brother.

“Will you come with me for a walk?” you ask, feeling the need to get away before you cross paths with the man who has occupied your thoughts more often than not of late.

It’s the week of the midsummer Hearts & Flowers ball at Aubrey Hall, and you are glad to have escaped the hubbub of the London scene and to be back in Kent for a few days' respite.

“No, I would prefer the company of Mary Shelley this afternoon,” she states airily, waving a book she holds.

So you set off alone, walking the grounds you now know so well. You are half an hour into your stroll, admiring the wildflowers along the eastern fringes of the grounds, not far from the village, when you see him approaching in the distance.

Benedict is riding his trusty horse and looks so majestic your chest constricts. Clothed in just a billowing white shirt and beige britches, you have rarely seen him look so informal. Or so very, very attractive. Your palms feel sweaty, and something stirs deep inside your body as you slink slightly into the treeline, hoping to remain unseen. A chance to merely observe this beautiful man, even knowing it is wrong to do so. To spy on him as such. Just as he draws close enough that you can see the flex of his leg muscles under the material, which causes all sorts of sensations in your body, a startled deer darts across the path and spooks his horse.

Time seems to slow as you watch his horse rear up and make the most terrible whinny of fear. 

And then your heart is in your throat as you watch horrified as Benedict loses his grip on the reins in surprise and is thrown violently backwards to the ground.

Bile rises in your throat as you see how his body hits the dirt path, unable to brace for impact. The air fills with a blood-curdling scream that you belatedly realise is your own, and before you know it, you are sprinting. Sprinting towards him. Your whole focus narrows to his body splayed on the ground, worryingly still, as his horse bolts away. Heart pumping wildly and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pull up to him and skid to your knees.

He is still conscious but barely. Moaning slightly. 

“Do not move!” You bark, and even in his woozy state, he appears taken aback by your ferocity. “I mean it, Benedict!” you bite out as he attempts to move his arm.

He seems to mumble a noise of ascent as you try your best to assess any injuries, having learned some things from observing your father over the years, but you realise he needs proper medical attention. Where you are on the grounds, it’s closer to your home than Aubrey Hall.

“I am going to get my father,” you explain as calmly as you can, “for the love of God, Benedict, do NOT attempt to move until he gets here.”

A wan smile spreads across his face even as he winces in pain. “Hmm, fine. I promise to stay still,” he sighs, “....prefer to do it for the love of you…,” he mutters slurringly before he appears to pass out.

Knowing he has likely struck his head, you try your darndest to put what he said out of your mind. A head injury would be the only way to explain such a comment, even as you are praying he doesn't have one. 

Heart still beating out of control, and not knowing what possesses you, you lean over and press the quickest shyest of kisses onto his lips—pulling back a few inches before he can even acknowledge it happened.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere on me, Benedict Bridgerton,” you whisper fiercely, just in time to see his eyes pop open, hazy and clouded with something you have never seen before. It’s not the pain he is in, though. And it’s not confusion, amusement or even irritation. It’s something else, so blisteringly intense your legs want to turn to jelly.

“I won’t, I promise,” he attests, his tone rough, ragged.

There are a couple of seconds where all you do is stare wildly at each other, and then, with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you take off running. You have never run so far and so fast in your life; fear makes your muscles work harder than they ever have before. It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime.

Your parents almost burst out of their skins in shock as you barrel into the house, panting wildly, wordlessly grabbing your father's medicine bag, and he reflexively springs into action. 

You run to the stables and hurriedly hook up the long cart he uses when he needs to transport patients, and the look he shoots you is filled with concern.

“Who is it?” he asks as you climb aboard and direct him.

“Benedict,” you tremble, and there is a world of understanding in your father's eyes as he cracks the whip, and the horse jolts faster. 

Perhaps your adoration is less concealed than you like to believe, but at this moment, you only care about getting him the help he needs. You are grateful your father doesn’t ask questions as you speed along. 

And it becomes a blur as you reach the site, grateful Benedict laid still as you requested. Your father examines him and fires questions that are answered lucidly, tending to some immediate wounds and bandaging in places. Before you know it, you are helping your father with a canvas stretcher and insisting on sitting with Benedict in the back of the cart as your father takes the patient back to Aubrey Hall. 

Never addressing the fact that you grip each other's hands so tight that both of your knuckles go white.

V: Belonging

“You can come in.”

Benedict’s voice calls out, bemused as you vacillate in the doorway, not realising that he can see you in a mirror reflection. 

So at his invitation, you blush and scuttle into his room. Awkward, unsure what to do after your bold, daring, downright impertinent behaviour when he sustained his injuries. Part of you is hopeful he does not remember it.

It’s been two days, and he has made excellent progress under your father's watchful eye. The minute your father had pulled up at the house, you dropped your hold on his hand. And as word spread, it was a frenzy of activity that you found yourself superfluous to. The last you had seen was Benedict being carried inside for a more thorough examination.

Luckily, it turns out he has no lasting damage; his head was uninjured beyond a mild concussion. He is bruised all over, likely has some cracked ribs and has a sprained wrist, but he will be fine after some rest.

“H.. how are you?” your ask quietly, stilted, fiddling with your dress nervously.

“Much better,” his tone soft, “only because of you.”

You look up and meet his gentle gaze. “I merely did what anyone would have done,” you demure.

“Nonsense,” he counters, “you ordered me to stay still and await the doctor. If you weren’t there, I likely would have done myself additional injury being stubborn,” he points out dryly.

You don’t know what to say in response, so you change tack. “Is your horse alright?”

“Yes. Colin found him wandering around the wildflower meadow, munching on all manner of grasses. Never happier, completely uninjured,” he assures.

You nod, glad to hear the news. Then you allow the room to lapse into silence, unsure how to commence your profuse apology.

“I am very sor….”

He stops you with a bandaged hand held up.

“If you even begin to apologise for saving me, well then I shall be most vexed,” he chides, but there is no heat there, a lopsided grin tugging at his handsome features. “Besides, the more pertinent point of discussion is the fearless woman you can be when needed. The person you are becoming, when you allow yourself to, is quite something,” you bow your head as your cheeks heat at his praise. “I would have injured myself months before now had I known I would meet the creature who sits behind that cloud of shyness. Just look at what you did, taking change so very effectively,” he flatters then there is a pause. “Hell, even being brave enough to kiss me.” 

Your head shoots up, and your mouth falls open.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles, “don’t think I forgot that part,” His voice has lowered to a pitch that buzzes right through your being.

“I… I was worried I… I was going to lose you,” you stutter, “and I-I’m sorry that was terrible of me to take liberties like that. Please, please forgive me?” you beseech.

“It was not in any sense of the word terrible,” he disputes, “the exact opposite. There is nothing to forgive. But there is one way you can make it up to me…?” he hedges.

“Anything, please,” you beg, so hopeful of absolution.

He holds out his hands and gestures for you to perch on the bed beside him. Almost without thought, you do so, even as you feel your pulse speeding up. You have rarely been this close, and now you are transfixed by all the tiny flecks of colour in his iris and the hints of stubble around his jaw.

“Kiss me again,” he requests; a finger trails lightly over the back of your hand. “But properly this time. Give me a chance to kiss you back.”

You just gawp at him in utter shock, heart pounding again, just like it was that day. You don't move away. You can't. Rooted to the spot. Unable to stop staring at his plush bottom lip.

“You cannot mean it…” you stutter when you finally find your tongue, disbelieving.

“Does this seem like I do not mean it?” he argues ardently, and before you know it, he is sitting up and leaning in.

And then warm lips touch yours, and fireworks explode inside your chest. 

You feel like you are drowning in the very best way as your lips move together gently. Everything about the moment is sweet and light, but promising more, something tart that makes you want to climb atop him and crush yourself against him. Just as you feel the instinct to open your mouth to him, he pulls back, looking lost and found all at once.

“I need you to know something,” he begins, grabbing both your hands and placing them between his. “It pains me to see you ever doubting yourself or if you belong. You belong. Everywhere you go. You have so much to give to the world,” he states passionately.

“I… “ you falter, wanting to believe him, the version of you he sees.

“You do. Hell, you give me a reason to get up every day. To try. To be better. I would not be the artist I am now were it not for your words of encouragement as I painted all those afternoons.”

You are dumbstruck. You honestly didn't believe he was taking on board what you said. Mostly just encouraging him to follow his instincts when he seemed to doubt them.

“And now it’s time someone did the same for you. Be the encouragement you need. You deserve everything, y/n. And it would be my greatest honour to try to give it to you?” he adds, a gently loving smile lighting up his face. 

Your heart sings as you realise this is the declaration you have been waiting half of your life to hear. Before you can stop yourself, you launch yourself at him, this time being the one to demand a kiss that he happily obliges. 

“I have a question,” you state as your lips part, your boldness growing with every moment. “Mr Bridgerton, were you jealous when I had a suitor?” you tease, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles and nuzzles your cheek. “My god, you have no idea.”  You cant help the victorious giggle, basking in the fizz in your veins.

“I suppose it was payback for Ms Worthing. She of the ironic name. She was never worthy of you,” you state passionately.

He laughs with a headshake. “Perhaps it is our ability to rescue each other that makes us so best suited,” he opines. “I do believe we may belong together,” he adds.

And you couldn't agree more.

In fact, you are never alone again from that day on.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz

[lonelywitchv2]

Strawberries

summary: it’s safe to say you didn’t expect company when you snuck out for a picnic with Regulus, your relationship more forbidden than the forest itself.

content: the marauders basically being your older brothers after you grew up next door to the Potters, protective and angry James and Sirius, Sirius and Regulus still being on bad terms, fluff turned slight angst, short, food, teasing, mentions of Sirius and Regulus’ parents 

wc: 587 (just a little blurb)

part ii part iii

join my taglist!

“So you’ve never read Pride and Prejudice?” You asked, almost offended by your discovery.

“No. Do you happen to remember that my parents are blood supremacists who forbade me from reading muggle literature?” Regulus responded.

“Okay, maybe I forgot. Either way, this is unacceptable. Reggie, it appears we have found our next book to read.” You announced, picking up a strawberry that Regulus had been reaching for.

“Oi! I was gonna grab that one!” He exclaimed, trying to reach for the red fruit, only to have you pull your arm away from him.

“You snooze, you lose,” You said with a shake of your head.

However, right as you went to bite into the sweet berry, Regulus tackled you, his body hovering over yours and your wrists pinned against the picnic blanket laid on the grass.

Throughout being tackled, you somehow managed to continue your hold on the strawberry, refusing to yield to him.

“You could’ve just asked to split it and I would’ve done it, love,” You pointed out, cocking your eyebrow.

“Well, this is much more fun. Isn’t it?” Regulus’s voice dropped to a whisper, his face lowering closer and closer to yours.

“It is…” You breathed out, lifting your head up until Regulus’s lips were pressed against yours, his hair brushing against your forehead.

The blissful silence was broken by a loud shout.

“What the hell is this?!” Sirius yelled, causing the two sixteen-year-olds to quickly break apart, scrambling to opposite sides of the blanket with their eyes wide in horror, the strawberry long forgotten.

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered at the rage burning in Sirius’s eyes.

“What is it Padfo- what in Merlin’s name is going on here?!” James’s eyes fell upon the sight of Regulus and you, his big brother mode immediately activating.

All words of defense and explanation quickly disappeared from your tongue, unsure of how to respond to the obvious rage emitting from the two boys.

“James, Sirius, I... I can explain- we can explain, please-” You stuttered out, struggling to get any words out of your mouth as your panic set in.

“No. No, c’mon Y/N, we’re leaving,” James said, his voice as firm as his grip on your arm as he pulled you off of the blanket, glaring at Regulus and dragging you away from the Black brothers- one of which was frozen in horror, the other seething with rage.

“Y/N-!” Regulus called out, going to stand before falling back from a shove from Sirius.

“What the fuck, Regulus?!” Sirius exclaimed, “Why her? Out of every girl in this school, you chose the one who’s like a little sister to me- is it to get back at me for leaving?”

“It’s not that, Sirius- I…” Regulus faltered.

“What? Spit it out!”

"Listen, I... I really like Y/N- really like her. Please, I'm not doing this out of vengeance, Sirius. I wouldn't even think about hurting Y/N! Siri… I’m not lying to you, I swear," Regulus stuttered out, the childhood nickname accidentally slipping off his tongue, "It's... real and I've never experienced anything like it before.”

“Godric… I just don’t…” Sirius paused, chewing on his lip, “I can’t do this right now.”

Sirius turned around for a moment, but turned to face his brother once more, “We aren’t done, Regulus. But this? This is.”

Regulus sat there speechless as his brother jogged to catch up to James and you, looking down to see the red strawberry sitting on the blanket, miraculously untouched.

[lovelyhan]

— game over ⟢

a minwon streamer au!

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x afab!reader x mingyu

★ STATUS; ongoing

★ TAGS; streamer/gamer au, eventual poly, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers (wonu), friends to lovers (gyu), in denial wonu and gyu, sex tapes, angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; i honestly should've made a masterlist for this little passion project a long time ago, but since we're finally introducing gyu into the mix, might as well do it now :^) it feels nice to finally pick up a series i started in january lol

— main story ✧

✧ one: underlying pretense ✧

word count: 10.3k words

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it’s the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

✧ two: favorite poison ✧

word count: 15.5k words

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it’s in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he’s nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

✧ three: caught in the middle ✧

word count: 15.8k words

summary: mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

tags: established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts, fluff, angst, smut

✧ four: coming soon! ✧

— side stories ✧

⤷ 02:35 | bf!wonwoo getting jealous over some cosplay sent by your fans and sponsors

if you want to be tagged in the upcoming installments for the main story, leave a reply! however, if you already signed up for my permanent taglist, you'll be automatically tagged in all my full length fics <3

[pandaswitch]

hihii im here to request for demon slayer please. Can I get some headcannons for when the reader is held hostage by a demon 😨 what will the hashiras do

Where’s my love?

➠ Summary: After days of no response from you, the hashiras are informed of how you were kidnapped by a demon.

➠ Type: Headcannons.

➠ Genre: Angst/Fluff

Damn, it took me a while to write this for no reason. I didn't put Gyomei because i didn't feel inspired. 😭

Tomioka Giyuu

Poor man.

He was already having no sleep because of how worried he was.

Starts cold sweating as soon as his crow says your name.

Like, he gets so anxious.

“How could I let that happen? I was supposed to protect them.”

If you’re a demon slayer he can somehow calm down.

After all, those are the risks of this job.

BUT IF YOU’RE A CIVILIAN.

Oh, poor Giyuu, he feels so guilty.

He knows the demon probably just kidnapped you because of him.

So, after saving you, he just wants to take a step back and get out of your life.

Well, he doesn’t want to.

But he would do everything for you to be safe.

Kocho Shinobu

Girly goes into killer mode.

How does that demon to even touch you?

She. Is. Pissed.

Before heading out to look for you, she takes the cruelest poison she can find so the demon dies slowly and horribly.

My girl is playing no games.

Now all her time is put into finding where you are.

When she does, it takes her a while to acknowledge you.

She’s too busy making that bitch of a demon suffer.

After the demon is finally dead, she turns around and looks at you with a gentle smile.

“Hello darling”

I’m scared of this woman.

But I love her so much.

Rengoku Kyojuro

His smile drops suddenly.

“How? When? Where?”

He can’t think about anything else, he just wants to save you.

He doesn’t even care if he’s still injured from his last mission.

That man IS saving you, it doesn’t matter if Muzan himself is the one that is holding you hostage.

Thank God it isn’t Muzan lmao.

When he finally finds you, he can’t help but sigh in relief that you’re okay.

“Hello Beloved! :D”

And after slaying the demon, he carries you home bridal style.

He just wants you to be close. <3

Uzui Tengen + wives.

Tengen was the one who got the news.

“How unflashy”

Not you ofc.

He’s talking about the demon.

I genuinely think he would be like:

“They’re one of my partners, they can handle that.”

And realize that it’s more serious when it had been 3 days and you still haven’t come back.

And when Makio starts berating him so he will go and look for you.

LMAO.

So, he comes to the rescue.

Oh boy, when he finds you, he talks way too much to the demon.

Maybe because he knows it won’t take him too much time to kill it.

He kind of feels guilty when he sees your wounds, meaning that you fought back, even without a katana.

“You did it well, I wouldn’t have expected less from you.”

Just like Rengoku, he carries you all the way home bridal style.

When you two get home Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru totally focus on you.

Hot bath, your favorite food, they basically just take care of you.

Suma braids your hair while Hinatsuru caresses your face and Makio is asking questions.

Tengen feels his heart warm at the sight.

Just there he allows himself to think what would’ve had happen if he hadn’t come in time.

Oh.

Now he’s holding the four of you tightly.

He’s just a big-ass baby.

Kanroji Mitsuri

She’s trying her best not to cry.

She knows she must handle this situation quickly, and there’s no time for her to cry.

Probably starts looking out for you on the spot.

If you asked her, she would drop a mission just to save you.

All serious and determined.

But probably she just completed her mission faster, without any distractions and left right after it.

MY WOMAN JUST SKIPPED LUNCH TO SAVE YOU.

This girl is going to find you, it doesn't matter how hard it is.

And she does, killing the demon takes her a little while but she does it without injuries.

AND THEN.

She turns around and looks at you with teary worried eyes.

SHE’S A BABY.

Runs to you and hugs you tightly.

“WAHH, I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU”

People would have thought you were the one who saved her.

Tokito Muichiro

“Who?”

Okay, just kidding.

His memory is not that bad at this point.

He stays there for a second, looking into the void.

All the possible plans run through his mind.

What is he going to do?

When he comes back to reality, he realizes that he’s hyperventilating.

The only time someone he loves that much has been in such a dangerous situation was when his twin died.

“Okay, calm down.”

He’s a hashira, isn’t he?

He is supposed to protect you.

That’s the only thing that matters.

And he does, he spends 24 hours straight looking for you, with no break.

When he finally finds you and the demon, he slays it fast and tries his best not to lose control of his emotions.

When he kneels in front of you, he doesn’t say anything.

He just starts caressing your face, a small and relieved smile on his face.

He’s so glad you’re okay.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

If I was scared of Shinobu.

I’M FUCKING TERRIFIED OF THIS MAN.

He goes WILD.

Looks for you like crazy, probably shaking out of anger.

He probably cut a few trees while on the way to where he thought you could be.

And by cut, I mean he punched them until his knuckles were bleeding.

When he finds the place, he has no mercy.

Like, he takes his time.

He doesn’t even cut the demon’s neck.

He has been torturing it all night.

But how does it dare to touch his beloved partner?

And when the sunrise arrives, he drags it out, so the sun burns it.

After a while, he comes back and carries you on piggyback.

“Don’t ever do that again, idiot.”

Iguro Obanai

Just like Giyuu, he starts blaming himself.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I was worthy of them.”

But more in an internal rage kind of way.

First of all, he takes his time to break stuff.

He isn't usually violent but he can't help but be furious at himself.

Poor Kakushi had to clean his state.

It doesn't take him long to find your location.

He makes it fast, the demon was talking when he cutted his neck.

Obanai doesn't wanna know its reasons, he just wants you to be okay.

He doesn't say a word, he just caresses your face, checking if you're hurt.

He takes you home, it doesn't matter if you can walk he is just going to carry you.

"I'm sorry" that's the only words you're gonna hear from him in a while.

[saiidahyunie]

daydreaming

minatozaki sana x soccerplayer!reader (pt.1)

synopsis: you seem to have a really bad habit of spacing out. it’s even worse when you’re spacing out while staring at your best friend sana, but that shouldn’t be the case when you and her are flirting with each other already anyway. 

wc: 6k 

warnings: mostly fluff ; a sprinkle of angst ; slightly suggestive (?) ; mentions of food 

a/n: hi hi hiii, new blog, new account, and first post? feel free to leave any comments, asks, or even feedback, i hope you guys will like this! 

had this idea brewing in my head for a while now after playing fifa myplayer career mode. so this is my own little twist to the prompt inspired by @spidergirlanon with jihyo, but swap her out with sana instead for mine! i do intend to make this into a mini series so the next parts will be on the way eventually (if college doesn’t kill me by then) so please enjoy and also show some love to her as well!!! :))

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

—

you knew it was gonna be a good day with a hit on the crossbar at the end of morning practice.

sure, you would’ve wished to hit it on the first try and be done with it, but going overboard and hitting five out of five attempts left you with some scattered cheers from your teammates watching as they cleaned up the surrounding area of cones and soccer balls. 

you also chipped in a small contribution by putting the remaining balls in the last two bags near the goalpost. making your way towards the bench with four sets of bleachers behind it, you set your eyes on one person sitting on the first row of seats. 

now sana didn’t really mind coming along with you to your practice sessions no matter if it was early, late, rain, or shine; heck, she even offered to drive you at times just to change things up despite her questionable driving skills that made you wonder if her passing the drivers test was entirely a fluke. but instead of sleeping in on saturday mornings, she decided to spend them with you. 

you walk up to the set of bleachers without her knowing as she was hunched over watching one of her numerous netflix shows that she changes every other week because she could never fully commit to watching one series entirely. waving your set of shin pads over her phone causes her to look up with a scrunched look on her face in a slight annoyance.

“you seem pretty invested with that new show now.” you said, smiling at your antic as sana paused her show, slapping your thigh lightly. “I already told you that I'll try sticking to one a week yesterday.” sana playfully said, getting up with her small handbag on her shoulder. “you finished?” 

you simply nodded, “yeah, I also bring good news.” sana tilts her head in with a quizzical look on her face on top of her lips set in a slight pout.

“no training next week.” you said. “coach rain said that he’ll be out of town running some trials for a second division team out of state.” sana’s eyes shot slightly wider than usual, raising her eyebrow after your little announcement. “are you sure you’re not pranking me? you said that last time!” sana asks, checking her phone after for a quick second before giving back her attention to you. 

“it’s not a prank this time.” you respond giggling as you turn to grab your bag from the bench, quickly fishing through for your car keys. you turn back soon after to see sana fixing her hair tying it in a messy bun. you sort of pause any movement for a small second. 

a second for everything that’s happening around you, but an eternity in your head when you laid eyes on sana again.

the appearance of sana was always breathtaking to look at regardless of what she was doing. her sense of style didn’t go to disarray as she perfectly pulled off your oversized gray hoodie that you let her borrow along with her flared yoga pants that would one-up the models wearing it on the website when buying in addition to the small white prada handbag that you picked for her when you went designer brand shopping two weeks ago. her fair skin that seemed to illuminate in the sunlight close to being angelic. her light brown hair which looked seemingly perfect even if she put it up or down. the way her face contoured in angles you didn’t even think it was possible for one to have. in your opinion, she had the ideal side profile in addition to her nose being flawless. there was no denying the fact that she was pretty, (wait not pretty- beautiful) and you were left in wonder sometimes how you managed to have someone like her as your best friend. 

“is something wrong y/n?” sana asks, breaking your trance as you shook your head in response.

 “yea- no, i’m good, i thought i forgot-” 

“looks like y/n’s daydreaming again.” 

“you know you’re unbelievable sometimes y/n?” 

keeping your eyes on sana she smiled at you after hearing the pair of voices’ remarks. you mirrored her lovely smile as you turned around to see the duo of maki and mia watching you two from a short distance.

“don’t you two have cleaning responsibilities?” you quickly ask the pair, pointing to the last pile of ball bags placed to the left of them. “you don’t want coach to get mad at you guys let alone run laps again do ya?” 

maki scoffed, “yeah, but you’re not denying the fact that you were daydreaming right in front of us weren’t ya?” mia quietly snickered behind you, noticing a faint hint of red spread out on your face. you shoulder your bag over your right side, lightly raising your fist in response to their little inside joke against you. 

“i could give both of you guys red ass right now if i wanted to.” you declared, eyeing a ball set next to the bench. maki picked up on your sentence and was quick to put hands behind his butt; reminiscing the flashbacks of what unfolded last time he pulled a quick joke about you and sana. “Han was lucky he was sick that time, but i’m sure that he would love to see it happen-”

“okay okay, you win this time captain.”mia replied quickly to admit his defeat as he and Han both turned around heading towards the last pile of ball bags placed next to the goal. after internalizing your small victory, you then turned back to sana with a subtle smirk on her face.

“what?” 

“oh nothing. i know it’s just regular banter between the three of you. im still shocked that you’re the youngest between them. crazy to think about, but cute nonetheless.” 

“so you’re saying that my age is apparently more important than my contrasting appearance? don’t even get me started about my first impression of your dad.” 

sana taps your shoulder, “hey! you should be glad my mom convinced him that you weren’t the cliche jock type you see in high school movies.” you place your hand over your shoulder that sana hit, raising both your hands as you gave in to her argument. “alright, you made your point. now lets go before the morning rush starts at chae’s,” you said as you both began walking towards the parking lot. 

—

meeting sana could’ve gone differently looking back at it now.  the last thing you expected to happen was an attempted knuckleball skyrocketing over your small goal followed by a broken window and an ear piercing screech at your neighbor's house from your front yard. what made it even worse was the fact that sana and her family had moved in just next door at the time. after getting an earful from her dad while also getting another tangent from your dad, it eventually led to both your parents meeting sana’s parents properly. at first, you were reluctant about coming along to meet, especially following what you did, but your mom convinced you that it’ll be fine and how there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. 

“just think of it as getting off on the wrong foot! besides, you already apologized to mr and mrs. minatozaki!” your mom said to you, rubbing your shoulders to ease the nervousness from your body.

“mom, how do you expect me to be fine after blasting a ball into our new neighbor’s window?” you look up while asking, putting both of your hands in the pockets of your stained sweatpants. 

“i already told you, there’s nothing to worry about sweetie, your dad already said that he’ll fix the window.” your mom glanced over at you, placing her hand on your cheek.

you sighed as the three of you stood in front of the minatozakis’ new home. a few quick rings of the doorbell followed by the door opening, you see the quick exchanges of “hellos” and handshakes as you made your way inside the house. your mom taps your shoulder, pointing to her feet to signify taking off your shoes. simply nodding at your mother’s request, you sat yourself down on the steps of the two story house, untying your shoes while adjusting your socks in the process. 

while you were doing that, you overheard a third voice near the dining room as well as your mother’s remark whenever she sees something nice and cute like a pet. thinking nothing of it, you continue to fix up the worn socks you had as you hear the rush of steps on the wooden floor. your eyes catch something moving on your right side and as you turn your head to the left, a girl who looked to be about your age was sitting next to you. 

“sorry, did i scare you?” the girl questions, setting herself on the stairs placing her gaze towards you.

“n-no, it’s just that i didn’t know that you were here in this house too.” you responded, covering your startled state by fake coughing while turning away from her stare. 

“so you actually thought that screech was from my mom?” the girl asks, straightening her legs on the stair steps; putting more of her undivided attention to you.

“well…yeah, but i couldn’t really tell exactly whose scream it was.” you mumble sitting upright slightly turning your body towards the girl next to you.

the dark haired girl makes eye contact with you, also slightly turning inward to face you; mirroring your seated posture as well. you slightly suck in a quick breath through your parted lips, never breaking the innocent gaze you and her were sharing together. your mind ran a quick analysis of her features: her dark brown eyes, the subtle chubbiness of her cheeks almost mimicking a hamster, the way her lips were flatlined with both corners angling up to give a derpy smile. you couldn’t understand it back then, but this girl had an aura early on, almost entrancing you entirely at any given moment. 

“you’re not as shy as you look.” the girl says. “anyway, your face was so funny when my dad was talking to you yesterday about our window.” 

you furrowed your brows together following her statement. “wha- wait you saw?” 

she hummed, nodding her head in response.

“my dad isn’t the type of person to get mad, but you looked so scared.” she answered. “i was at the top of the stairs when the whole thing happened.” 

“i- i guess i was too caught up getting a lesson from your da-”

she lightly laughs at your explanation. “it’s ok. he knows that it was an accident so there’s no need for you to get scared.” 

“i wasn’t scared!” you counter, trying to come up with a good reason why you looked liked that. the girl leans a little bit closer trying to hear your poorly constructed alibi, but your mind couldn’t come up with anything to pass. 

you sigh, slouching your body forward in defeat as the girl beside you simply smiled at your distressed state. you return eye contact with her soon after. 

“i’m sana by the way.” she says.

“i’m y/n.” you reply back as you quickly look down at your mismatched socks. 

“y/n? that’s a cute name.” she notes, her voice beaming with a bright tone.

you scoff at her observation. “my name isn’t all that, but i’ll take your compliment.” you say cracking a quick exchange of soft smiles.

“kids! dinner is ready!” your mom yells from the dining room behind the stairs.

“coming!” you and sana both say in unison as you and her made a break to the kitchen.

—

what followed after that fateful dinner would become a six year friendship between you and sana. to say that you two were inseparable would be one hell of an understatement. you and her were basically attached at the hip all throughout the school years.   

there was never a dull moment between you and sana, the days were always filled with random antics, laughs, impulsive decisions to procrastinate on homework by getting something to eat, or even doing anything and everything in her house or yours. aside from your parents in addition to Dex, who was practically your day one since kindergarten, sana was always there for you no matter if it was about school, soccer, or whatever crazy adventure life decided to throw at you. she was there with you through it all.

sana knew everything about you. from the ideal snacks you’d like to eat, what your skincare routine items consisted of, the music you would listen to on the way to tournaments, your favorite player’s top 10 essentials, study habits, the inconsistent sleep schedule; she’s seen it all. you also have the same case when it came to learning more and more of sana’s habits and lifestyle. what she prefers on a rainy day, the fact that she likes to take pictures of things that were cute or intriguing; her go-to order of coffee she would usually get when cramming school work together, and even the way she celebrates even the smallest accomplishments jumping up and down in elation. 

what first started as differences between you and her turned into common interests, the bond that was shared grew even stronger. those post game meals, watching a show together through one pair of earbuds, walking and eventually driving to school - even sleeping over at each other’s houses just to keep company. the priceless moments you spent with her didn’t have to be special, it was already enough that you were willing to do anything with her and sana definitely felt the same way with you. 

you and sana always appeared to have a bubble encapsulating you two at school. most classmates and friends would usually give space to ensure that they weren’t interrupting something. not that you or her cared anyway, but from an outsiders’ perspective, it's a different story - and it gets the people going in conversation: 

“sana and y/n would make a good couple.” 

“they’re always together...” 

“y/n is so lucky to have sana!” 

“what a perfect match.”

blah blah blah blah you’ve heard the lot of it. 

so let’s set the record straight, you and sana never actually dated each other during high school. despite that shocking revelation, the situation itself seems too good to be true. you’ve spent a significant amount of time together, know every detail about each other’s lives, and no secrets are harbored between you two; but this is midway through your last fall break in high school, and surely something must’ve clicked by now right? wrong. 

most of the guys and girls at school would kill to be in your position with sana. it was already accepted that she was leagues above anyone else and it wasn’t even a close race with the other popular girls at school as well. you a similar set of criteria with sana: top of the class, you were the best player and captain of the soccer team, well known with the various teachers, good with other students, and just the ideal model that most people should aspire to be on and off the soccer pitch. too bad much can’t be said about your love life since it’s virtually nonexistent. 

however, that all changed when you started to see sana a little bit differently. the realization didn’t come to you right away - eventually, you start to see small signals going off in your mind in both the physical and internal aspects of sana’s being. 

you didn’t notice it at first glance because of how natural it was to see sana being clingy or touchy with momo and nayeon; come to think of it, now even dahyun from econ class was now the latest addition to her list of victims in physical affection. she had that effect on others that made them feel like they have known sana for ages. none of them come close to you though. your classmates have only seen the superficial version of sana, the version that everyone was naturally accustomed to seeing on a daily basis during class. despite that, it was a much different story at home. 

the real sana, your sana, you’ve seen the emotions she held in behind closed doors and its just you two. even for a girl like her who’s always seen as an overpowering ray of sunshine, she too has her moments of despair. that was apparent during the time when she lost her cousin to a tragic drunk driver accident roughly about two years ago. you were nearly forced to drag her to the service, but she eventually came around. the loss was already tough on her as it is since she got sick soon after that. since her mom was busy with nursing and her dad usually working the graveyard shift, she was always home alone if you were also backed up with soccer practice or school work.

but in that week when she got really sick, you thought it’d be a good idea for you to stay over at her house to keep her company; not that your parents really minded nevertheless; for her sake and wellbeing, you dedicated yourself to care for your longtime friend. 

the first night was probably the roughest part of that week. you immediately bolted to her house after practice when you received a text from her mom to see how she was doing. when you arrived at her house and stepped into her room since the funeral, it was difficult to see her in that bedridden state; she was a wreck, slightly malnourished, almost pale. it pained you to see her like this - despite that, she still had that little sense of bubbliness to her that made the situation a little more bearable to handle as she flashed a faint smile, 

“i guess this is what i get for not eating and sleeping?” sana mumbles, her voice coarse that was almost ineligible to hear.

“everyone handles their grief differently, so in a way yes.” you sigh as you set the tray of warm soup on her nightstand. 

you got a closer look at her face when you sat next to her on the bed, adjusting yourself as sana propped herself up after turning on the lamp. your heart ached at the sight your mind was registering. her eyes that were once beaming with light were no longer there; instead, they were half-lidded, almost lifeless. the eyebags right under were very apparent with her hair clearly disheveled from being in bed. 

“thank you for the soup y/n.” sana says with a faint glee in her expression.  

“don’t, sana,” you quickly say, patting her head, “it already hurts me to see you like this.”

sana pouts at your statement. 

“the least that i can do is just be here for you.” you utter, “i won’t ask for anything in return.” you flash a smirk only for her to return the same look. 

“well, i should probably get going.” you say in a lowered tone. “i still have to finish up my project with Jackson and i-” 

as you got up from sana’s bed, you felt a hand grasp your wrist. looking back, you see sana facing down with a sense of loss translated through her body. your heart rate spiked for an instant as you tried to conjure up any sort of thoughts possible to help determine what was unfolding in front of you. 

a very small sniffle could be heard, breaking the tension and silence that was filling up the room.

“stay…” sana murmurs softly, “please.” 

your mind freezes at her sudden request. this was the first time you’ve seen sana in this state before, and there was one thing that was certain your heart was telling you: this was really bad. you were one choice away from either making her overall condition worse - but this potential choice was also an unforeseen opportunity for something that you had never thought of doing with the girl living next door to you. 

in a prolonged second, the next set of actions that transpired would eventually be the set of seeds planted for your true intentions down the line. 

you shift sana’s hand from your wrist to your hand as you sat back down on the bed, facing her again, meeting with her eyes as they were on the verge of tears once more. 

“okay.” you whisper softly as you grasp her hand slightly tighter, “i’ll stay.” you say, leaning forward so that your forehead could meet hers. 

sana let out a small breath of relief through her nose, delighted at the words you said which eased the pain a whole lot more than she initially thought. after placing her forehead against yours, she lightly closed her eyes as a single tear fell down from the left side of her face. her face became warm all of a sudden when you put your hand on her left cheek, wiping the tear away, melting at your loving touch for a slight second. 

“thank you…” sana whispers to you. 

soon after she said that, you wrap your arms around her, hugging her tightly. sana pauses at your action for a brief millisecond, thrown off with what you were doing; instead of pondering about it, she fully gives into your embrace as she slotted herself into your chest. her arms coating your clothed back with her hands placed perfectly on the crook of your neck, allowing herself to be fully comfortable with showing these emotions to you for the first time.

—

intimacy was something that sana had no shame in showing, she had that knack for being affectionate to her loved ones in any way possible. even when hanging out with friends, it would always end up with her being all over someone for the most part; and even when watching from afar, she would give small glances to you as if she’s trying to make you jealous. but in the end, you would tilt your head and give a small smirk back at her, acknowledging the fact that what she’s doing is indeed working, except you won’t yield to her that easily. 

you were a different case for sana. the understanding that you two had was way past the verbal aspect to a point where you or her could say so much just by looking in each other’s eyes. sana just felt right at home with you, a perfect compliment to her energy and vibes. the yin to her yang. you had no problem with reciprocating the things that she does whenever its just you two. from hand-holding, her grip on your arm, your arm wrapped around her waist, and pressing both of your faces together when taking pictures just to name a few. 

all of those sweet moments were special to you, and surely sana thought the same. they could be called dates, they could be called hangouts, it didn’t matter at all because you’d be spending them with the person who’s had your heart for the longest time now. 

“you’re staring off into space again.” 

a voice breaks your daze into the distance as you’re brought back to reality, sitting along a set of tables outside of chaeyoung’s family owned cafe. you blink and look over to your right side of you, seeing sana sitting next to you staring, her head on her fist with a puzzled expression on her face. 

“that matcha latte isn’t gonna finish itself ya know.” she says. you look down and smile, realizing you embarrassed yourself for the third time today. 

“sorry.” you say as you finish the last of your latte in one swig. sana mirrors your action, drinking her cinnamon scented macchiato. both of you gulp down the last of your tasty beverages and place your cups on the table. 

“you do have something on your mind don’t you? sana asks playfully. you shake your head in response to her question, “well not exactly.” 

“yes you do.”

“no i don’t.” 

“y/n, we both know how this goes.” sana declares, knowing that it was pointless to hide something especially if you’re keeping it from sana of all people.

you sigh in defeat, looking at the rows of cherry blossom trees set outside of chaeyoung’s cafe before focusing on sana again.

“it’s about the youth academy, and the exit trial…” you started off, “even though it’s been two weeks already, i’m not sure how well i-” 

“stop y/n.” sana demands, shaking her head, “that wasn’t how you felt when you came back from the facility; i know you did great so act like it.”  

“i know, i know. ” you sigh softly, placing your hands on the table. clasping your fingers together to stop them from shaking. “but you gotta remember sana, this trial is for a potential contract; on an actual team. i’m within touching distance of my lifelong dream, but what if it doesn’t work out?” 

sana shakes her head in disagreement, grabbing your hands with her own. you shift your left hand and place it over hers, gently rubbing the top of her thumb as she did the same for your right hand. 

“you supported my dream of becoming a cosmetologist, now let me do the same for you.” sana declares, “all of those practices and games will finally be worth it in the end. the best and only thing that we can do is just wait.” sana has seen the highs and lows of your soccer journey and while she didn’t fully grasp the sport until a year after she met you all those years ago, she knew how much this meant for you to go pro.

“i want to be there for you every step of the way.” 

“you’ll always be my first fan….” 

those words echoed in the back of sana’s mind as she kept her eyes fixated on you, while you were still rubbing your thumb on her hand. you chuckled softly as you grabbed her left hand, setting a kiss atop of her middle knuckle. she blushes at your sudden action of affection as you look back at her and smiled. 

“you’re the best sometimes you know that?”

sana lets out a cute giggle, one that was reserved for you and only you, “i know i am. what else is new?” 

“nothing much really if i were to be honest with you.” you reply, still lightly grasping her hand as you stare at sana’s face once more. 

sana leans her head over to the right side, hand still latched onto yours. “your overwhelming sincerity never ceases to amaze me.” she says, gazing into your eyes before trailing off into the dazzling features of your face for a few seconds. 

you pull your hand away from her as you cross your arms together, not convinced with her genuine complement. sana dips her head down laughing at your amusing action as she tries to pull your arm off. before she could even break your crossed arms, you pull away slightly while also diverting your attention away from her intentionally, making her slightly annoyed. 

“are you saying that my lovely appeal doesn’t work on you anymore?” you ask looking back at her with a moped face. 

“i never said that it didn’t.” sana responds instantly. “i should ask the same about you?”  

“we both know that you’d beat me in a flirting competition anyway.” 

“you wanna try again pretty?” sana teases. 

“i think everyone knows that i’m the only one that can withstand your tempting charms.” you argue as you place your elbow on the table with your head on your fist, smirking at sana who was slightly baffled at your statement as you felt a faint blush tap your cheeks. 

“that i can confirm.” sana replies, surrendering to your reasons. the moment between you two is interrupted as you see your phone vibrate on the table. you look over to see the notification of a missed call, it was your mom. it followed up with a text that you looked at closely to read, your eyes widened at the message. 

“mom just called, she said to come home right now.” you said to sana who nodded at what was happening. the both of you stood up as you grabbed sana’s hand after you set the chairs back with the table exiting the cafe together. 

—-

sana knew that you always had a gentle side to you. behind that sturdy, hardened exterior was someone that defined the epitome of sweet and so much more, all bundled up into one person. she was aware of how ambitious you were about your studies and athletics, and a little bit of that mentality of yours rubbed off on her as you both leaned on each other for support when times got tough. the way you spoke to her, how you acted, even the actions that you did was everything that she ever dreamed about having was with you. she wanted more and even that wasn’t enough for her. 

you both were already mindful of the idea of crushing on each other. even if you two didn’t admit that there was something, nothing ever came to fruition because of how platonic everything was between you two so far. 

the car ride home was always a smooth breeze. aside from the fact that sana is your passenger princess, it was always a good time in your matte black tesla. sana would always take off her shoes or sandals, placing both feet on the dashboard and setting the seat all the way back only for her to forget to reset it every time she leaves the car. you didn’t think much of it however since you took every opportunity to place your hand with hers or even on her thigh, and she didn’t mind either. sana found you attractive with playing soccer already, but with everyday activities such as driving, sometimes she couldn’t function properly. 

you end up backing into the driveway of your house not long after seven minutes. sana gets out first and waits for you at the fence that connects her house to yours while you grab your soccer bag from the hood, humming out loud while looking at the sky. you get something from the driver's seat real quick before you walk over to sana again who was on her phone.

“texting your long distance pen-pal again? wasn’t the username kim somet-” 

“it’s kimchouzaki.” sana answers. “she just sent me a care package from japan so it should be coming in a little bit.” 

“i wish i had a pen-pal who did that for me, but with soccer related stuff.” 

“aw don’t be sad, its ok.” sana purses her lips together at your remark. “you should go inside, i don’t want to keep your mom waiting.” 

“i’m sure it’s nothing bad, but i’ll-”

“let you know if something happens?” sana asks finishing your sentence. “you know me so well.” you gleam as the both of you laugh together. another long pause of tension consumes you and her for the twentieth time today.

neither of you were complaining however as you stared into each other's eyes, conversing in silence to the point where it could be the ending moment of a k-drama episode. 

“so…see you later?” sana asks as you inhale sharply, looking down at your feet before returning back to her face. “yeah. i’ll talk to you later sana.” you say as she begins to take a step away from you, fleeting moments of opportunity sleeping away right in front of you. before your heart takes another ache, you take another quick breath of air.

“wait…” you started off saying, sana stopping in her tracks as she faced you again, tilting her head in question. “before you go,” you grab her wrist and pull her in for a quick hug, arms wrapping around her back as her arms find themselves on your waist. 

“thank you for listening earlier.” your voice getting quieter. “i really needed that reassurance from you.” you finish off saying as you place your head on top of hers. you hear sana’s breath shudder against your chest, relieving the little stress you two had combined together. few seconds pass as you unwrap your hands from sana and give her a couple small inches of space between you two. 

“i do care about you y/n…it’d be crazy of me to say that i didn’t…” sana muttered in a small millisecond of sadness. “this is as scary for me as it is for you.” she said looking up at you, her face just inches away from yours. you pout your lips into a small smile, “i’m sure everything will work out, so don’t worry too much okay?” you softly ask as you place both hands on her shoulders, massaging them to ease the anxiety away from sana’s body. 

“alright i’ll leave you now, i’ll text you if something comes up.” you say as you adjust the soccer bag on your back. 

“sounds good!” sana beams returning to her normal state of bubbliness as she tiptoes to plant a kiss on your cheek. you cutely smile at her sudden action, “if what’s inside is what i think it is about, that kiss was for good luck!.” she yells as she makes her way towards her house.

you kept your eyes on sana, waving at her as she got further and further away, eventually going past the door to her house and closing it. soon after, you look down in content, smiling at what just took place a few moments ago. 

“that girl really is something.” you say to yourself as you make your way up the steps to the front door. a quick movement of opening the door and heading inside, you take off your shoes and place your bag down on the floor and walk towards the kitchen.

“ma! i'm home!.” you yell out as you turn to the dining table to see both of your parents and your best friend dex, who also was your personal agent managing the business and logistical end with the soccer teams. sitting across from them was a woman in a well-fitted dress layered with a blazer, holding a small card in her hand. you eyed the card the woman was holding a little more closely as it resembled a club badge facing towards you. it didn’t take that long for you to put two and two together and the first words you heard from dex all but confirmed everything that you assumed. 

“hey y/n, i have some really good news for you.” dex began saying. your eyes shot open at the thought that was processing in your mind at an instant. 

you couldn’t wait to tell sana about this after. 

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Nothing melts Bradley's heart quite like Everett's excitement for his upcoming adoption. While the three of you count down to the big day, there are unexpected houseguests to deal with and neverending happiness to absorb. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Mom! Dad!" Everett shouted, running up the sidewalk when Molly arrived to drop him off at home on Monday evening. "Aunt Molly said I'm getting a baby cousin in March!"

Bradley watched as Molly hustled along the sidewalk behind Everett, and he went to meet her to get his soon to be son's overnight bag. "Thanks for watching him for the weekend," Bradley said, looping the bag over his shoulder while he thought about how sexy you'd looked in Palm Springs wearing your collar and leash. Then he glanced at where you were giving Everett a big hug on the front porch, and he thought about how hot you were even in full mom mode.

"We had fun," Molly said, stifling a yawn. "Bob took him on a hike, and then we did math problems with gummy bears. He's all ready to start second grade." Then she grinned at Bradley and said, "You owe me one for packing your wife's weekend bag with you in mind."

Bradley grunted, cracking his knuckles to try to keep his composure. Only about two more hours until Everett was in bed for the night and he could have his Kitten all to himself. "Yeah, I definitely owe you one."

Molly clasped her hands in front of her baby bump, clearly very pleased that he had enjoyed his wedding gift. Then she bent to kiss Everett and tell him goodbye. "I'll call you after your first day of school tomorrow, Ev. Love you."

"Bye, Aunt Molly!" Everett waved as Bradley's sister-in-law drove away.

Bradley scooped Everett up in his arms and followed you inside. While he had enjoyed the two nights away with you immensely, he missed Ev's laugh and his smile so much. "Pancakes for dinner? And then I'll show you the baseball jersey we got for you in Palm Springs?"

"Yes!" Everett cheered. And then as he helped Bradley mix some chocolate chips into the pancake batter with a spoon, he asked, "Did you adopt me yet?"

"Oh," Bradley grunted, pausing to really look at Ev. Wide, sincere eyes looked back up at him. He thought back to the very first day of tee ball, remembering just how much he really liked talking to Everett right from the start. How he only grew to appreciate him more and more. And he let himself feel all of the overwhelming love right now that he had for this kid. "I wish, Ev. Your mom has to call some people first, and make a few appointments. It might take a few weeks." Bradley didn't want to tell him that it might be next year before anything was finalized.

"Okay," he replied, and his shoulders slumped with dejection. "But I thought it would be cool to tell everyone at school tomorrow that I got a dad over the summer."

Bradley wrapped him in a hug and just held him for a few seconds. "You can still tell them that. I'm your dad, for sure, kiddo. It doesn't matter if it's not official yet."

"Okay," Everett whispered against Bradley's chest. "But when can I write my name is Everett Bradshaw?"

Anything. Anything in the world. Bradley would do anything for this kid. As he held him and thought about how much his life had changed, he figured the fact that he would do whatever it took to make Everett feel happy and loved was enough to make him a good dad. He'd learn all the other details over time. He would probably make more mistakes and inadvertently teach Ev more bad words. But he would do anything for him.

Bradley kissed the top of his head. "Not quite yet. But you know what? You and your mom can probably both start using Bradshaw for your last name around the same time, so that's good, right?" he asked, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper. Everett hugged him tighter, and Bradley didn't ever want to let go, because he found as much comfort in these hugs as Ev seemed to.

And then that was when you walked into the kitchen to find Bradley with tears in his eyes as Everett clung to him.

"I thought we were trying on our new jerseys?" you asked, and Bradley pulled you into the hug as well. 

He smothered your face in kisses before he said, "That's for after dinner. And then we're gonna pack Ev's bag for school and watch Toy Story. But first just let me hold you both."

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

The next day was pure chaos. Everett begged Bradley to drop him off at school on his way to North Island, and on your way to work, you answered your phone when you saw that Molly was calling. She was crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked her, trying to navigate your way through traffic, thinking you may have to turn around and head to her condo. 

"Bob's being deployed," she sobbed, and your heart clenched. 

"When?"

"In a few weeks," she said, sniffling into the phone. "I can't do this without him."

You assumed she meant she couldn't handle her pregnancy on her own, but when you tried to ask, she just cried louder. You could barely understand what she was saying, and you already knew you were going to have to have a conversation with Bradley about having her stay at your house. 

"Molly, it's going to be okay. You'll be great, and I'll be around to help you. And so will Bradley."

She laughed through her tears. "My turd-in-law likes me now, because I didn't pack any real clothing for your honeymoon."

You rolled your eyes. "He has always liked you. I think that just made him like you more. Let me call you back later tonight?"

"Okay." Molly's voice was soft and small as you ended the call, and you hated hearing her like that. But you had other important things to take care of. 

As you parked your car and made your way into your office, you rolled your eyes at Frank. You had bigger things to deal with than him. Once you were settled at your desk, you debated with yourself about which phone call to make first: Danny or your lawyer. You decided on Danny, and when he answered after seven rings with a groggy hello, you got right to the point.

"Any chance you were planning on responding to the petition I sent you for child support?"

You could practically hear him rolling his eyes, and now you were thankful you caught him first thing in the morning. "I have one hundred and twenty days to comply. And that's according to my expensive lawyer that you're forcing me to pay for. I hope you realize that this would mean there's less money for Everett."

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. "It's already been months, Danny."

"I have one hundred and twenty days," he reiterated, practically snarling at you through the phone. "You'll hear more about it when I'm good and ready. I still can't believe you're trying to destroy my life like this. You weren't money hungry prior to a few months ago. And I could still have that tee ball boyfriend of yours charged for entering my home without permission."

"He's my husband now," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. 

"Good for you," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle. 

"You're right. It's very good for me," you said, raising your voice over his horrible laughter. "I was just calling to let you know that you're about to be served with some papers that will negate the child support petition. And if you don't comply with what I want, I'll drag you through the legal system until you're out of money."

The line went silent, and you had to bite your tongue, forcing him to be the first one to speak again. "What the fuck do you want?" 

You took a deep breath and thought about your husband and your son and your sister and how much love was in your life now. "I would like to give you exactly what you hoped for: nothing. I can remove Everett and myself from your life completely if you agree to do something for me."

After another long pause, Danny said, "Name your terms."

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

Bradley was anxious to learn how your conversation with your lawyer had gone. But when he got home, it was just you there in your little black skirt and high heels, standing in the kitchen sipping a bottle of tequila. 

"Whoa," he said, rushing toward you and taking the bottle out of your hand. But you were smiling. 

"I was going to make us some margaritas, but I got carried away," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Bradley tasted the tang of the liquor on your lips and tongue. 

"Does this mean you have good news, Kitten?" He was holding you tight to him, forehead pressed to yours as he waited, hoping to hear what would make him happier than anything else right now. 

"What are you doing eight weeks from today?" you asked, raking your fingers gently along his scalp. 

"Baby, if you don't tell me right now that I get to adopt Ev in eight weeks, I'm going to cry."

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. "You get to adopt Ev eight weeks from today. We have the date set at the courthouse."

"How?" he asked as his eyes filled with tears. "How did I get this lucky? In less than a week, I got myself a wife and a court date!"

He wasn't sure how he could be this happy and also be crying so much. But when you told him that you got Danny to agree to your terms, he had to wipe away his tears even though he was smiling. 

"Where's Ev now?" he asked, kissing along your neck, overcome with so much relief.

"Molly picked him up from school. She's going to bring him home after dinner."

"So, we're alone?" he asked, smiling against the curve of your jaw and hiking up your skirt. "We're alone. Until I invite Molly to come stay with us while Bob is deployed."

Bradley's hand's froze on the bare backs of your thighs. "I'm sorry, what?"

You kissed and nipped at his lips, but he pulled a few inches away from you. "Bob is being deployed."

"Yeah," he replied. "I got that part."

You rolled your eyes and started to unzip his flight suit. "And Molly is going to be lonely and overwhelmed, and I think she might want to come here for a few weeks."

Bradley groaned. "You can't follow up the good news about Everett with this devastating announcement, Kitten."

"Bradley!" you scolded, playfully smacking his chest as he yanked your skirt up until he was palming your ass. 

"All I'm saying is that Molly is like this annoying little sister that I never wanted, and even though I do love her, she's going to cramp our style, Baby."

"How so?" you asked, easing your hand down the front of his flight suit and stroking his cock. 

"She'll have to sleep in the Phillies room," he whispered. "You know that's where we've been having our quickies."

"Hmm, you're right about that, Coach. Think I could change your mind with a blowjob?"

Bradley grunted and thrust against your hand. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. "Your lips on my cock could get me to agree to anything, and you know it."

You nodded at him with all the confidence in the world before you sank to your knees.

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

Spending several weeks waiting was not ideal. Everett was asking nearly every day if it was almost November yet. Now it was barely October, but the three of you had gotten into a routine. Bradley made breakfast every morning while you packed lunches. Then he dropped Everett off at school, and you went to work a little early. When you picked Everett up from school, most days it was just so he could rush through his homework and dinner and spend an hour or two at the park playing and practicing baseball with Bradley. 

Your husband was true to his promises. And he seemed to like practicing baseball as much as Everett did. When you joined them one day, the October air was cool enough to trick you into believing you could be somewhere besides southern California. And Everett was hitting Bradley's pitches so hard, it was unbelievable. 

"I thought you were the famous Bradshaw?" you called out, teasing Bradley before he threw a pitch. "Don't you pitch for the Navy league? That second grader is kicking your butt."

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and then dropped his ball and glove and chased you until he caught you in his arms. Your laughter was so loud as he kissed you and tickled you, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong. 

"I take it back! I take it back!" you gasped, out of breath from laughing. "You're amazing! The best pitcher I've ever seen."

He conceded by hugging you from behind instead of tickling you. Then he whispered, "I'm not even kidding, Kitten, he's so fucking good at baseball." Then he kissed you one last time and returned to pitch a slider to Everett who looked permanently happy these days. And when he hit the pitch easily, you realized you were permanently happy, too.

But that night, you had to deal with the thing you knew was coming at some point. It was late, and you were in bed with Bradley's mouth on your pussy. You were close, so so so close. But your phone kept ringing softly on your nightstand, and you could tell it was Molly by the ringtone. 

"Don't answer it," Bradley grunted, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "You can call her back when I'm done with you."

So you laced your fingers through his pretty curls and rode his face, whining his name as your phone started ringing again. Bradley slowed down his tempo, just like he knew you needed, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit, that prickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin sent you. He squeezed your thighs as you planted your feet, and you came so hard, you were seeing stars. Your knee was shaking. He was unrelenting. Your vision blurred every time you blinked, but a beat later, Bradley's body was wrenched away from yours, and he was out the bedroom door and at the top of the steps with a baseball bat in his hand. 

Then you heard Molly's soft voice calling up from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry. It's just me."

You tried to scramble for your clothing, but you realized Bradley had undressed you over by the bathroom. And then you realized that he was standing there in his snug underwear with a massive erection, holding the bat like he was about to take someone's head off with it. He must have heard Molly let herself in the house. 

As you located your clothing on the floor, Bradley lowered the bat, nodded and said, "Your sister's here."

"Thanks," you told him, yanking your panties on and slipping into his undershirt. You kissed him quickly as you rushed down the stairs and into the living room where she was standing with a tote bag and a bouquet of those hideous flowers she liked so much. She was crying softly. 

"I can't," she whispered, and you wrapped your arms around her. "I can't stay there alone another night. I hate being away from Bob. You know what he did? He got the guy from the gas station to deliver the flowers to me today, because it's the six month anniversary of the first time he said he loved me."

"Oh, Molly," you whispered, kissing her forehead. 

"He set this shit up before he left!" she wailed. "I don't even know what he's doing today, because I haven't talked to him in a week. A week! And now I interrupted you having sex, and I can tell Bradley's mad at me."

You held her close. "He's not mad at you, Molly. He just thought you were a burglar or something."

"I'm sorry," she moaned, holding the flowers out to the side so they didn't get crushed. Her belly felt like it had gotten bigger since the last time you saw her, and you patted her there which made her smile. 

"Stop apologizing. You can stay with us until Bob gets back." You really should have run that past Bradley before you made such a bold declaration, but you knew he wouldn't fuss too much. Probably. So you coaxed Molly into letting you put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen, and then you led her upstairs to where Bradley was wearing a full set of pajamas and brushing his teeth in your bathroom. 

"Coach?" you called out to him softly, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. "She's going to stay with us." You weren't really asking, and he didn't look upset. He just nodded and then spit out the toothpaste.

"I figured," he said, rinsing his mouth and drying his hands. He kissed you and pulled you in for a hug before adding, "I'll go sleep in the Phillies room for the night. Just tonight. That way you can talk to her so she can fall asleep. But after tomorrow morning, it's all red and white and the letter P everywhere for your sister. I don't fucking care how much she misses Bob. Got it?"

"Got it," you told him with a smile. "You're the best husband in the world."

"I know," he said with a grumble, but he was smiling too. And when he passed Molly in the hallway, she was still holding one of the flowers. He kissed her on the forehead without saying anything else, and then he walked into the Phillies room as Molly climbed in bed with you.

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

Everett was up so early on Halloween, Bradley needed to drink two cups of coffee just to keep up with him. "If you're this excited now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be collecting copious amounts of candy later." He raised the mug to his lips again as you and Molly walked into the kitchen. 

The three of you watched Everett bounce over to the white board on the refrigerator and update it to say that there were just ten days left until his adoption. That meant that Bob would be home in nine days. That also meant that Molly would be out of here in nine days or less, and that did indeed bring a smile to Bradley's face. 

It wasn't that he didn't like Molly. He actually loved her. Everett was obsessed with his Aunt Molly, and she loved spending time with him. She was fun and witty, and it brought Bradley joy to pick on her. But she was also messy, and she was eating all of their food, and he couldn't walk around in his underwear as much as he had gotten used to. 

But last night, she'd happily taken Everett out for dinner and to the movies for a few hours with Bradley's credit card. And you'd worn your collar and leash for him along with your cat ears and tail, and holy shit, he needed to stop thinking about it right now.

"Morning, Kitten," he grunted as he poured you some coffee. 

"Ten more days!" Everett shouted.

"Nine more days!" Molly shouted.

But you bit your lip and pulled a piece of mail out of the tray on the counter. "I thought it would be more fun to open this when we were all together," you said, tearing into the envelope and holding up your new social security card. "But I'm officially a Bradshaw."

"Yes!" Bradley whooped, hoisting you up into his arms as you squealed. Molly and Ev did an obnoxious dance across the kitchen as Bradley kissed your neck and ear while you chanted Bradshaw, Bradshaw.

"Everett will be next! I'm buying us one of those stupid flags people hang from their porch with their last name on it, I don't even care," you said as Bradley set you down, and his lips found yours.

"I love you, Kitten."

That evening, as the four of you got ready to go trick-or-treating, Bradley pulled on his Navy Waves uniform and then buttoned you into one of his Phillies jerseys.

"You'll have to borrow this until we can get you some Phillies gear of your own, Mrs. Bradshaw. Don't spill anything on this one," he muttered. "It's vintage."

You rolled your eyes so hard and then said, "No eating chocolate in it then?"

"No, no, no, absolutely no chocolate. This belonged to my dad."

"Oh," you gasped as he did up the last button. "Then I can't wear it tonight! It's too special."

You reached for the buttons, but Bradley stopped you with his larger hands. "Nah, it's okay, Kitten. Ol' Goose would have wanted you to wear it. I think he'd be happy to see me with you and Ev right now." Actually, Bradley knew both of his parents would have loved you and adored Everett. It was hard for him to think about the way Carole would have doted on her grandson. 

The look of awe on your face as you said, "Thank you. No chocolate," made Bradley chuckle. 

Then Molly's booming voice in the hallway had you pulling the door open to reveal her standing there dressed as a pregnant umpire. "Are you ready to rumble?!" she shouted into a bullhorn that had you and Bradley covering your ears while Everett chanted and cheered. 

"Baseball umpires don't use bullhorns! And they don't say that!" Bradley shouted over the ruckus, but when he reached for it, Molly yanked it away from him. 

"This one does," she said into the speaker, and Bradley thought one of them might not make it back tonight. 

But it was so hard to be annoyed when the four of you looked like you were ready to play baseball. And then Bradley had you take a photo of him kneeling down on the porch next to Everett dressed as a Phillies player. The photo was so sweet, he immediately set it as his lock screen. 

"Are we ready to go?" Molly asked using the bullhorn, and Bradley gritted his teeth. "Ev, that's a foul for looking so cute in your Halloween costume. You owe me a Snickers bar for that."

"That's not what umpires do," Bradley ground out, digging around in the massive bowl of candy that you had set on the porch steps, searching for the only thing that might make Molly stop.

"And my sister gets a red card for leaving the candy on the porch," she added through the speaker. "That'll get stolen by the first kid that comes by. Rookie mistake. I used to do that with my friends."

You just shook your head as Bradley said, "There aren't even red cards-"

But Molly turned the horn toward him. "And Bradley gets a foul for being a turd."

But then his fingers wrapped around the king sized Hershey's bar and he waved it in her face. "I'll trade you this for the bullhorn, Molly. Make good decisions."

She eyed him with trepidation, but he knew that candy was her weakness now more than ever. She'd finished a whole bag of fun sized Kit Kats two nights ago, and Bradley had to go to Target to replenish the Halloween supply. When Molly lunged for the Hershey's bar, Bradley quickly grabbed the bullhorn and shoved it discreetly into the shrubs as she immediately opened the wrapper. 

And after that, he had a pretty great night. Everett collected three pillowcases full of candy, and Molly ate it along the way while she repeatedly yelled, "Strike three, you're out!" every time Bradley tried to give you a kiss. But he was happy that Molly was having a night where she wasn't constantly thinking about Bob. 

"Can we get a family photo next to that huge inflatable pumpkin?" you asked, pointing at the lawn decoration in front of the last house on the street. Everett went running for the pumpkin, all hopped up on sugar. 

"Yep," Bradley said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Molly held her hand out to take it from him, but he shook his head. "You need to be in the family photo, too." So he flagged down another dad who agreed to take the picture for them, and you slipped your arm around his waist and gave him a kiss just after the photo was taken.

"Thanks, Coach," you whispered, your soft voice right next to his ear. 

"Thanks, turd," Molly told him, trying to hide the tears she was swiping at as she turned to chase Everett down the sidewalk yelling about interference and personal fouls. 

But it was after everyone got home and Everett and Molly were sound asleep that Bradley's night got even better. He was tired, he really was, but as soon as you very carefully unbuttoned and removed his vintage Phillies jersey, you looked at him and licked your lips. 

"Kitten?" he asked softly, his cock already very interested in what might be happening next. 

You closed your eyes and said, "I bought something I wanted to try on for you."

Bradley groaned, ready to beg. "Yes," he grunted, and you were pushing him toward the bed as he got undressed down to his underwear. 

"Close your eyes. No peeking," you whispered, turning on the soft bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. So he closed his eyes and listened to you flitting around the room, opening drawers and the closet door. His hand was down the front of his boxer shorts, and he was stroking himself when he felt your warm lips meet his. He moaned softly, "Can I look yet, Kitten?"

Once you were straddling his waist, your ass rubbing his cock through his underwear, you whispered, "My name is Lieutenant Kitten," and his eyes opened immediately. You were wearing his khaki uniform shirt, complete with his Bradshaw name tag. His favorite pair of aviators were perched low on your nose, and his dog tags were tucked between your breasts, hidden by the shirt. 

"You're the sexiest naval officer I have ever seen," Bradley promised, skimming his rough fingertips down your soft thigh, bent knee and calf. He smirked as you raised his hand to your lips and kissed his wedding band. "Lieutenant Kitten."

As you leaned forward to kiss his lips, Bradley noticed some dark green lace peeking out from the collar of the khaki shirt, and he started working on the buttons as you licked the seam of his lips. 

He felt the fabric before he saw it. You were covered in green lace from your tits down to your pussy, and he was already nudging it to the side, dying to know how wet you were. 

"You're in charge, Lieutenant," he whispered, his voice harsh. "What would you like me to do?" 

"You better make me cum."

He moaned as you lifted your hips, and he slipped that finger right inside you. So warm and silky. The bodysuit fit you like a dream, and you were leaning back, hands on his thighs, letting him watch your pussy sink down around two of his fingers now. You were rolling your hips slowly, making Bradley throb, but he was determined to give you exactly what you wanted first. 

God, had you ever been this wet before? You were practically dripping. "Does that feel good, Lieutenant?" he asked. 

"Keep going. Keep going." 

With three fingers now inside you and his thumb on your clit, Bradley worked you over at a leisurely pace that had him almost in a trance. The way you were moving looked obscene, like he was viewing something so sexy, so filthy, it was taboo. He was barely moving his hand now, just listening to your little grunts and moans as they got louder while you fucked yourself on his hand.

"God damn," he whispered, tapping your clit softly each time you withdrew to his fingertips, earning him a little gasp. 

"Bradley," you whined, getting a little louder now as you tilted your head forward to look him in the eye. Your grip tightened on his thighs, and his cock was demanding a fair share of your body, but he could tell you were close to orgasm. 

"Baby," he whined, your slick coating him and glistening as you rocked your body forward one, two, three more times, and then your pussy clenched, grabbing at his fingers. "Fuck."

"Oh my god!" you whined, lips parted, gasping as you jerked yourself along his fingers.

"I need to fuck you," he said, nodding his head. "Please?"

"Yes," you gasped, easing yourself onto your back, legs spread wide. He pushed that little bit of green lace to the side and coated his cock with the wetness on his hand, and then he fucked you. And he fucked you so hard, your back arched. And then he fucked you even harder, your tits bouncing free of the bodysuit while he shoved his still slick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.

He didn't last; he knew he wouldn't. Not with you in brand new lingerie and his shirt. Not with the chain of his dog tags tangled up with your paw print necklace. He filled you up with his cum as he leaned down, easing his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Everything was back to that languid pace you'd set earlier as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tasted his mouth. 

Bradley pulled away to look at your pretty face, and you smiled as you ran your fingers along the scars on his cheek. "Did you enjoy your Halloween, Coach?"

With a kiss to the tip of your nose, Bradley pulled himself free from your body and collected you against his chest. He carefully leaned back against his pillow, holding you close with you still in his khaki shirt. "I did," he said thoughtfully, rubbing your arm. "I...well, I know it's kind of silly, but the last time I spent a Halloween with my dad was when I was three, and now I'm a dad."

"That's not silly," you told him. "And you're not just any dad. You're the best."

He held you tight. "You think Ev is going to make us dress as baseball players again next year?"

"Oh, one hundred percent."

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

Just two more parts left now! Thanks so much for reading! If there's something for Coach, Kitten and Ev that you're hoping to see, hit me up. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 32

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

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Previous part here

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May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait 

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much? 

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now? 

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you. 

And he wanted to make it up to you. 

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier. 

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 

He kissed your hand again. 

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now. 

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

[wreckmetoji]

Close to Heaven 

A fic in which Vash finally gets what he’s been yearning for and then some.

↳ Vash the Stampede/Reader

↳ Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader

content warning. gender-neutral pronouns, afab reader, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex, profanity, alien anatomy, whatever the plant equivalent of a creampie is, shameless smut, fluff, slight angst, wolfwood tops vash and vash tops you, everyone is winning

I recommend reading Wanna Be Yours for context 7.2k words

Life was unforgiving, there was no such thing as being dealt a good hand. At least, not unless it was at the expense of another person. Vash knew this better than anyone, but long ago had he accepted he wasn't here to have a good life. He was here to fix what was broken, help the people that needed it, and while that didn't always go as planned, he always tried his best.

You just pick yourself and dust yourself off, that's what I admire about you the most, Vash. Even eight months later, Vash could still hear your voice in the back of his head when he went on with his daily life. He'd hear you chide him while he poorly patched himself up in alleyways, he'd hear you tell him to eat more when he denied himself of decent meals, or yell at him to get up and keep going when he fell. It wasn't easy, of course it wasn't, making that decision to leave. He wanted you to have the best life he couldn't give you, and if you managed to find that happiness, then he was more than willing to cut his losses and hope that one day he would run into you, see you flourishing and happy and alive. So, he continued, hopping from one town to the other, helping when and where he could. Vash heaved a sigh, pushing his way through the doors of the tavern he was staying in. Today had been a bust, nearly managing to get roped into an encounter with July Military Police, he was completely unable to secure himself a vehicle or mode of transportation out of the city. He was running low on money, he would really only feasibly be able to stay at this inn a couple more days before he would need to start running small jobs around the city. That would surely be risky in itself, knowing that if he were to be exposed to the general public for longer than a couple of hours, someone was bound to try and turn him in. He'd leave tomorrow, even if it was by foot.  Shuffling over to the bar, he plopped down in one of the tall stools, waving at the barkeeper he had come to enjoy chatting with over the last few days. She was friendly, older, definitely making more of her money off of regulars and locals than tips and travelers. She had mentioned it was refreshing to see a new face that wasn't sour. "Hey Nadina," Vash greeted as she sauntered over, glass and cloth in hand, "Things been busy today?"  This earned him a playful scoff, to which he chuckled at, knowing the two occupied tables covered in cards and bottle caps were enough of a tell. "If it was busy, I wouldn't have to work here every day," She quipped, pouring a pint for Vash without him even asking, "Did have an interesting fella come in today, though." Smiling, Vash accepted the drink from her, already pulling out a couple of bills from his pocket to place on the counter in front of her. He lifted the glass to his lips, humming inquisitively to her previous statement. "Yeah," She continued, giving him an unimpressed up and down, "Said he was looking for you." Ah. Maybe he would have to leave a bit earlier than expected, if the Military Police were already this hot on his tail he was bound to be cornered in his rented room. That would get messy, and he wouldn't want poor Nadina to fork up a bunch of nonexistent money for property damages he was inadvertently the cause of. "Did... They say why they were looking for me?" He dared question, giving her a sheepish smile.  "No, just mentioned you by name, described you. Didn't even introduce himself, but I'm sure you could spot him in a crowd," She mused, shining up some spare glasses behind the counter, "Had this massive cross he was carrying around. Must've thought himself a priest or something. Wouldn't be able to tell by lookin' at him though, sketchy lookin' bastard." Suddenly, his smile was gone. Vash swallowed, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at Nadina. She caught this, her hands pausing their ministrations as they exchanged stares.  Vash broke the silence first, his voice breathy and barely above a whisper. "Did he have anyone with him?" Nadina didn't answer, not at first, obviously too caught up in his immediate reaction. After he cleared his throat, taking another long sip of his beer, she pursed her lips and quirked a brow. "No, he didn't have anyone with him," She crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter, "You know him then?" With a nod, he threw back the rest of his beer, placing it back on the counter with a thunk. He decidedly left out all and every detail of who that stranger was or how he knew him, mind reeling as to what he was doing around here looking for Vash. His head spun, and it definitely wasn't from the less than seven percent beer Nadina had so graciously poured for him. "Thanks for the drink Nadina, think I'm gonna hit the sack early though." He didn't give her a chance to interject, taking out an extra bill from his pocket and slapping it down on the counter. A tip, but also hopefully buying her silence. She nodded, taking the pile of bills and pocketing them in her half apron as Vash gave another friendly wave, crossing the pub floor and heading up the old metal staircase.  Fuck. Wolfwood was here, and he was looking for him, but most importantly, he didn't have you. Did he leave you behind? Were you hurt? Did he lose you? It had been at least eight months, a lot can happen in that amount of time. Maybe the two of you split up, and he was worrying his head about nothing at all. Still, he couldn't shake the bad feeling he had. Part of him wanted to find Wolfwood, ask what happened, if you were safe, but the other part of him didn't know if he wanted that answer. Seeing him would only serve as a reminder of what he had to let go anyways.  Unlocking his room, bumping his metal arm into the heavy material to force it open– perks of renting one of the cheapest rooms in town– Vash entered the small space, leaving it opened a crack. He wasn't going to be staying long, and he didn't have much to gather up. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could avoid the police and secure a ticket for the last bus out of here. It wasn't too late, the sun now just peaking over the dunes in the distance.  Vash shoved his sleepwear in his bag, yanking the cords shut and swinging it over his shoulder. He'd cut his losses on paying for the room tonight, and besides, if things went sideways he could always sneak his way back in without the stress of trespassing.  He had managed to sneak past the bar without Nadina noticing him, or maybe she did and just decided not to say anything. She was a perceptive woman, nothing slipped past her, so maybe Vash was foolish for thinking he could. He pushed his way through the doors, setting a brisk pace that didn't look too suspicious as to garner unwanted attention, adjusting the straps of the bag on his shoulder as he stepped through the weighted double doors of the shoddy bus station. The clerk was in the middle of cashing out as Vash ran up to the till, putting down a little more money than necessary just to secure his ticket in case the gentleman was in a poor mood.  Being eyed up and down never got easier. It was always fifty fifty on whether he had to run if they recognized him, or if they just thought he was some weirdo. "A ticket– please! A ticket please. Are there any seats on the last bus?" He was sure the desperation was even more suspicious, but he couldn't care. Not right now, at least. "It doesn't matter where it's going." The man grunted in response, taking the money– all the money– that had been placed on the counter in front of him. He scribbled something down on his receipt paper, tearing it off and clipping it to the bus ticket he then handed over. Vash smiled gratefully, brows upturned, before turning on his heel and speed walking out the door. People were lined up in front of the doors, already boarding. At least he wasn't going to waste any time. He sucked in a deep breath, stepping forward when the line moved up, his eyes scanning the crowds in the streets to make sure he wasn't picked out. And then he saw an apparition. And apparition, or an angel. Off to the side, two or three buildings down, back facing him but he could recognize it anywhere. He could point it out with no doubts, the presence you radiated was something he still constantly saw in his dreams. He had spent so many nights laying next to you, how could he forget about all of that in a measly eight-or-so months? His breath was caught in his throat, lungs feeling tight and his eyes stung. Suddenly everything hurt, his heart, his eyes, his muscles, he couldn't move. You were talking to an older man, his brows furrowed as he looked up and around. He pointed his finger towards Vash, and everything moved so slow. You turned, eyes wide, and he could see the tears welling up from where he was standing. You were beautiful, so so beautiful, hair a bit longer than he had remembered, new clothes he hadn't ever seen before, but... You were the same. The same lips he had traced with his thumb, the same cheeks he had squished in his hands, the same eyes he could stare into for hours, just watching every sparkle and light flare every time you talked about nothing in particular. Then your mouth moved. He couldn't hear it, but he could see it plain as day. Vash? He watched you, watched as you took one slow step forward, then another, then another, steps slowly increasing in pace until you were running full sprint towards him. He was now stood in front of the open doors of the bus, ticket gripped so tightly in his still–flesh hand that it was barely legible. He didn't get a chance, didn't get a chance to step onto the bus, didn't get a chance to say anything to you, didn't get a chance to pull away or run like he thought he wanted to. Not before you were hurling yourself into him, arms wrapped so tightly around him he thought you were trying to crush every bone in his body. The impact made him huff through parted lips, cerulean eyes wide and glossy behind tinted glasses. You said something, something he couldn't hear with how hard you had shoved your face into the fabric of his jacket. The bus driver called out, catching his attention. He said something along the lines of are you getting on, and Vash didn't even register the fact he was shaking his head no. All he registered were the bus doors closing, and his shaky hands coming around and resting on your back. "You're so stupid!" You shouted, sobbing into his shirt. Your shoulders shook, your body trembled, and he could feel the wet of your tears seeping through the fabric. "You're so stupid and I'll never forgive you!" There were so many things he wanted to say in response.  I missed you so much. Every day without you felt too long. You're my everything. None of it came out, he tried. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic, choked out cry of your name. You looked up at him, and he watched as his own tears cascading down his face landed on your cheeks. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, his arms starting to quiver, his glasses fogging up. Your hands reached up, pushing his glasses up into his hair, then sliding back down to rest on his cheeks. He leaned down, pressing his forehead up against yours as you whispered, "I never stopped looking for you." Vash kissed you, now for the second time, but instead of grief and distress and sorrow, there was relief. Comfort. Solace. He kissed you, and this time you kissed him back. You pushed your soft, beautiful lips up into his, finally letting go of all the heartache you had evidently been carrying with you for the eight months since he had left you. He pulled back, only for a second to look into your eyes, before he kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you breathless, his hands coming up to cup your face, mimicking how you were holding him, only pulling back far enough so he could see you. You still shared your breaths, shared the heat radiating off of each others' faces, shared wet tear stained cheeks. You were even more breathtaking than he remembered, the way your wet eyes shone in the setting sun, how your lashes clumped together, your sentimental smile enough to make him swoon.  "You two are making a scene," Vash heard from behind him, lips parting as he snapped away from you. Wolfwood stood with a stern look, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared at Vash over his glasses, "July police are in town right? Maybe not a good idea." To say he was confused would be an understatement, eyes flickering over to you when you muttered a meek apology, an embarrassed smile on your lips and red ears. Vash opened his mouth to speak, apologize, his heart threatening to break all over again until Wolfwood shrugged, adjusting the cross slung over his shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Just save it for later. Good to see you Spikey," He nodded, walking towards the tavern Vash was staying at, "You got a room, right? Let's go, I could use a drink. Walked through the entire town all damn day." Vash furrowed his brows, mouth opening to speak, before he felt you grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers between his. He looked down at you, expression somewhere between confusion and distress, but you smiled and shook your head, giving him a small tug as you pulled him along behind Wolfwood. "I'll explain. It's okay." He complied, following wordlessly until the three of you had entered through the tavern doors. Nadina looked in his direction, her eyes widening slightly before smiling. "Welcome back," She greeted, holding up three fingers inquisitively. The three of you nodded in unison. "Comin' up." The three of you sat, mostly in silence until Nadina came over with the drinks. Vash didn't miss the way she eyed up Wolfwood, and then yourself, especially with how tight you were holding Vash's still flesh hand. Once she had gone back to the bar, starting casual conversation with other patrons, did you begin talking.  "I don't want you to feel like I'm deceiving you," You began, eyes everywhere but on him, "I'm... We're still a thing." You gestured between yourself and Wolfwood with a finger, earning a curt nod from the priest as he slugged back his drink. He felt his heart ache again, something he hadn't felt in a while. He smiled, disingenuous and sad. He should have known better, Nadina had told him it was Wolfwood looking for him after all. The second he saw you, he should have known Wolfwood would have been in tow. He should have gotten on that bus, he shouldn't have froze the second he saw you. "But," You continued, "The night everything... The night you left, I told Nick about what happened. I told him you kissed me, I told him you left, and..." Your tiny voice tapered off, and he could see you fighting back tears. He wanted to reach up, wanted to cup your cheek and brush the cool metal of his lost-technology hand under your eye to catch the wet before it trailed down your cheek. He clenched his fist, forcing back the urge, glancing over at Wolfwood who really only seemed to be half interested in the conversation. You sighed, calling his attention back to you. "I told him that I care about you Vash. So much, and... He was okay with that." Vash furrowed his brows, lips parted in visible confusion. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat a bit. "I failed to realize that I had feelings for you too, but I felt bad already being committed to... this," Once again gesturing between Wolfwood and yourself, "We talked about it. Talked about having you join us, or at least try things out and see how they go." You held your palm out flat, pointing towards Wolfwood as he slowly nodded. "So– you– you aren't mad at me then?" Vash asked towards Wolfwood. The tanned man scoffed, leaning forwards on the table as he stared at Vash. "You aren't seeming to get it, so I'll spell it out for you Blondie," Wolfwood tapped his index finger on the table, "Us. All three of us. Relationship, or whatever the fuck you wanna consider it." It took a moment for Vash to register what you both were saying, brows furrowing again as he glanced back at you, then Wolfwood again, earning a nonchalant shrug as he grabbed at the glass sitting in front of you, tipping it back and drinking half the contents. You didn't seem to notice, or you did and simply didn't care, your thumb rubbing busy circles into the back of his partially gloved hand.  "So," Vash cleared his throat, scooting a bit closer to you in his seat, "You... Both of you... want...?" "You're both easy on the eyes, 'n I don't mind sharing," Wolfwood cut in unabashedly, both yours and Vash's cheeks heating in surprise at his boldness. "Both my type too, lucky me." He sparked up a cigarette, hanging his head over the back of his chair as he blew smoke up and away from the conversation being had. Vash was quiet, taking in all the information and emotion, the relief and the anxiety, as he looked back and forth between you and Wolfwood.  "It's okay if that's not something you want, Vash," You smiled, understanding and sweet, "I can reimburse you for the bus ticket, and you can leave first thing–" "No!" He took his hand from your grasp, holding them both up to stop you from speaking. "No, I– of course, of course I want this but, I mean... Are you two sure?" Wolfwood and you chuckled in unison, your hand coming down to settle on his bouncing knee. He remembered when you used to do that, when you would be in a pub or a diner and a bounty hunter would walk in, how you would place your hand over his restless knee or hold his arm, and suddenly any anxiety he had about the situation dissipated into thin air. He smiled, laughing a small bittersweet laugh, and finally picking up his drink. Vash would let himself be selfish, he would let himself have you, have Wolfwood, even if something could go horribly wrong tomorrow, or the next day, he would enjoy you now.  "Okay. Yeah, okay!" His agreeance called for a celebration, your hand going to reach for your now empty glass of beer, slapping Wolfwoods arm in faux outrage. You laughed, and Wolfwood waved your hand away, insisting that he would buy you another one. You argued, bickering with him in good fun about how you have no money, I'm the one paying, and Vash laughed. A hearty, genuine, full laugh that used his entire diaphragm. It turned heads, and the smile that reached his eyes made you melt. The argument in front of him dissipated, your quick hands grabbing the empty on the glasses and heading over to the bar. Vash watched you leave, the smile never leaving his eyes as his heart swelled inside his chest. It almost felt like too much, almost felt overwhelming, seeing you so easily chatter with Nadina as she prepared more drinks for the three of you. He turned his head, giving Wolfwood such a soft expression he swore he could see his sun–kissed neck and ears go red. The night carried on, more drinks and more laughs and more playful bickering, the occasional hand on your knee, or his thigh, or feeling Wolfwood bump his leg with his own. The three of you had managed to stay up until closing, getting ushered upstairs by Nadina to the room Vash had rented. All three of you had more than enough to drink, considering at some point every single person had tripped going up. Vash shoulder checked his door after inserting the key, chucking his bag down beside the door. The bed was small, probably much too small for three people comfortably since it could barely be considered a full. A heavy thunk gathered his attention long enough to see Wolfwood resting The Punisher up against the wall in front of the foot of the bed. You giggled, and he smiled, watching you lay back onto the bed. Vash closed the door, shucking his coat, glasses, and holster off and tossing them over the desk in the corner, before flopping down on his stomach next to you. His metal arm laid over your torso, mechanical thumb running gentle circles into your sides. It was sweet, it was how things should have gone before, maybe this is just setting things right– "Move over," Wolfwood complained, and when Vash looked up he could see the tanned man throwing his pants into a crumpled pile in the corner with the rest of his clothes. Really, Vash hadn't even noticed him strip, only to be left in his boxer briefs. His cheeks flushed red, quickly averting his eyes as he readjusted himself and you on the bed so you were now laying properly. Vash had wedged himself back against the wall, your back pressed to his front, as Wolfwood climbed in to join. "Tight fuckin' fit," Wolfwood grunted, and Vash would have been embarrassed at his phrasing if you hadn't laughed at him and playfully swatted his chest. Considering the limited space, the three of you had to shuffle around for a bit to get comfortable, one of you earning an elbow to somewhere sensitive, or a knee to the thigh, but finally everything settled into a comfortable position. Wolfwood laid on his back, arm outstretched for both you and Vash to rest your heads on, your back to his side, face to face with Vash. It didn't take long for Wolfwood to doze off, his light-sleep snoring filling the otherwise empty room. Vash tried to sleep, really he did, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the curve of your jaw, the halo of hair on the arm and pillow below you, and your beautiful dazzling eyes. This time, he didn't have to shy away when you met his gaze. This time, he could stare and stare until he went blind. And, as enamored with you as he was, he could see that same infatuation as you stared back.  "Hey," You whispered, closing your eyes as his metallic hand brushed a strand of hair behind your ears. "Hey." Those were the only words you exchanged, afraid you might wake up your sleeping companion. That didn't stop you grinning from ear to ear, though, and it didn't stop him from shuffling impossibly closer, or his cold mechanical hand running up and down your side, slowly skating up. He traced a trail with his fingertips, going from your side, to your back, up your arm, brushing over your collarbone, and up your neck. It was feather light, scared that if he pressed any harder you would disappear into a cloud of smoke. His fingers stopped at your chin, index finger gently hooked underneath, while his thumb traced the outline of your lips. Vash sucked in a deep breath, half lidded cyan eyes staying locked on the slight part of your mouth as you kissed the pad of his metal thumb. He exhaled in a puff, watching the hairs to the side of your face shift in place. "This doesn't feel real," He admitted in a whisper, barely audible had you not been mere inches away from him, "I feel like I don't deserve this." Frowning, you pressed another kiss to his hand, and he vaguely registered the warmth of your palm on the side of his neck. It was as gentle as a mayfly's wing, and had he not seen your arm move, he would have missed it. The same hand reached out, grasping his wrist and pulling it away from your face. Vash swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, his still tipsy mind hazy as you leaned in and placed your petal soft lips on the corner of his mouth. It wasn't enough, he could never get enough, he thought as he turned his head, greedily taking you in and kissing you so gently. His eyes fell closed, fingers threading between yours. Shifting slightly, his other hand came up from beneath him, cupping the back of your neck. It was slow, languid, gentle, like you both had all the time in the world to simply exist with each other. Vash wanted to make up for lost time, apologize for leaving you in that motel room, tell you how much he missed you, but instead he spoke with his actions. He kissed you tenderly, lovingly, over and over again, his hands holding you so close you might think it was his last night alive. "I never stopped thinking about you," He whispered between kisses, turning you over on your back. He propped himself up, torso hovering over you as he kissed your cheek, nose, jaw, the shell of your ear. The sigh you breathed had him closing his eyes, scrunching his brow and committing it to memory.  Untangling his fingers from yours, his metal hand reached down, firmly grasping your hip as his lips moved down. He wanted to do this for so long, shower you in love and affection, to be showered in love and affection back. He wanted to give and take and exist in a world that was entirely you. When his lips came back up, there was more intensity behind his kisses, welcoming the part of your mouth with his own. Your mouth was warm, welcoming, and he could taste the lingering booze left behind when he pressed his tongue into your own. There was a whine, and it took him longer than it should have to realize it came from him, pulling back quickly when he felt a shift in the bed beside the two of you. A thick strand of saliva kept your mouths connected as he glanced over, seeing Wolfwood tugging his arm back and tucking it behind his head. Vash stilled, waited, and when he heard the telltale snores again, he was back on your lips in an instant. "Vash," You breathed into him, your hands grabbing the back of his shirt and fisting the material in your palms, "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere."  You sounded amused, and his fingers gripped you just a little bit tighter as he kissed you just a little bit harder. "I know." But he didn't know. He didn't know when would be the last moments he spent with you, and he didn't want you to slip between his fingers again. He didn't want to dance around his feelings to keep you safe when neither of your futures were guaranteed tomorrow. So, instead of pulling back when you patted and rubbed his back, he slipped between your legs, his hands grabbing at your thighs and pulling you into him, adjusting your position. He hunched over you, forearms resting beside your head as he took more and more, stealing the breath from your lungs, soaking in your tiny whines and insincere protests. There was a fire in the pit of his stomach, and everything about you, everything you did, stoked the flame, made it burn brighter, hotter. Vash didn't know where this boldness came from, brushing your bangs back from your face and kissing you once more, the heat of his hand searing your skin as he dipped his fingers just below the band of your shorts, hiking your leg up around his waist. Immediately met with eager compliance, Vash smiled against you and rubbed an affectionate stroke on your outer thigh. His hand moved up, further and further until his fingers were tangled in the strands of your hair. He lowered himself, just a bit, but it was enough to have his pelvis rub up into you. The moan you let out was less quiet, but he couldn't care less when you were pulling him so much closer, arching your hips to press up into him. He shuddered, a small hiss making it past his teeth as you rubbed up into him. He was already getting so worked up and he didn't even know if you would be okay with something so different, something that could send you running. "I want you," He sighed into your temple, cheeks flushing, "Just... Promise you'll try to keep an open mind?" He was suddenly bashful, watching your brow quirk at his request. "Wha– why?"  "It's– my, ahem... It's a little different than, uhm–" Vash paused, a shiver wracking up his spine when you reached down and palmed the front of his pants. You kissed him, obviously not swayed by his lack of human anatomy– he didn't know why he expected anything less from the person that would patch him up and nurse his hard to reach wounds. He relaxed into your touch, cock pulsing in its confines as you flattened your palm and stroked up and down the front of his pants, arms shaking as he pulled back from you with a sheepish smile. "Sensitive," He explained, fingers pushing up the hem of your shirt until you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the fabric off and toss it behind him and onto the floor. His eyes widened, before softening, hands clutching at your sides and moving up and down soothingly. "Beautiful." Both hands, metal and flesh, gripped your ribcage, thumbing over the perk of your nipples. You reaction was immediate, back arching, one hand flying to cover your mouth. Vash exhaled, breathing ragged as he repeated the action, this time watching your face contort, trying your best to keep quiet and not wake Wolfwood next to you. He pinched your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, gently rolling them in his grasp. Your airy moans urged his own whine, his lips replacing one of his hands, working you just a little faster. Hands moved, clothing was discarded, and by the time Vash had gotten his senses about him, you were in nothing but your underwear, urging him to tug his shirt over his head and throw it into the dark with the rest of your clothes. Vash knows he was supposed to savor this, commit it to memory, but your wandering hand stroking his cheeks, pulling his hair, pawing at the front of his pants, had all of his senses kicked into overdrive. You were beautiful, more so than he had ever imagined, and he didn't want to wait another second to have you. The warm pad of his thumb came up, pressing into your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him. He kissed you, more tongue than lips, while his metal hand caressed the innermost part of your thighs, the tips of his fingers teasing up against your clothed clit. When you moaned into his mouth, he moaned with you, the sound less quiet than desired and entirely debauched. Handling you with utmost care, his hand peeled your underwear to the side. Vash was surprised when you didn't flinch at the cold– but then again he was probably warmed by your body heat– as he dipped his fingers into just slightly, coming back up to circle your clit. Sounds he didn't think he would ever get to hear cascaded from your lips, and he greedily lapped them up like his last meal. Occasionally returning your noises with a choked out moan or breathy whine, his fingers trailed back down, one finger slowly dipping into your heat. When you gasped into him, he curled his finger up slowly, pulling back before pushing in a second. You were soaked, and your combined groan echoed off the walls of your small shared room. "Having all the fun without me," Broke the silence, hands on Vash's hips from behind making him startle out a high pitched eep! "Got room for another?" In all honesty, Vash hadn't even noticed Wolfwood move, and he wondered if it's because he was so wrapped up in you, or if Wolfwood was really that quiet. His cheeks flushed a deeper red, if that was even possible, when he glanced down, watching Wolfwood press his tented boxers up and into his ass. Cerulean eyes shot back up, like a deer in the headlights as Wolfwood ran a hand up his bare spine slowly. Vash turned to glance at you, only to see you biting your lip to suppress a shy grin, then back at Wolfwood. He nodded, barely finished the action of agreeing before he was being grabbed by the back of the neck and tugged up. Back to his chest, Wolfwood moved his hand around his neck to cup his jaw, pulling him into a mind-numbing kiss. His lips were rougher, chapped, and he could taste the leftover nicotine lingering on his breath when his mouth was pried open by his tongue. Vash moaned, eyes rolling back into his skull when Wolfwood reached around with his other hand, cupping the front of his pants and giving a gentle squeeze. Back arching, Vash bucked into his hand, pulling back to fix Wolfwood with a half lidded, embarrassed expression.  "It's... it's different," Vash explained again, earning a snicker in response. "You got a hole?" His expression fell, eyes wide in shock, nodding slowly. "We're all good then." He should've been embarrassed, really. Should've been embarrassed that Wolfwood speaking to him so directly made his cock twitch, or embarrassed by the fact when he glanced over you were touching yourself below him, but he couldn't. He locked eyes with you, his breath catching in his throat as you pushed yourself up on your forearms. You sat up on your knees, hands holding his waist as you kissed him again. Being pulled back and forth made his head spin, and he didn't know who was unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his hips, but every touch and sensation and movement had him absolutely delirious. A hand was on his face again, Wolfwood squishing his cheeks to open his mouth and pull him back for another debauched, sloppy kiss. He didn't have time to be bashful about his state of undress, but the way you gasped when his pants and boxers had been pulled to his knees had his body tensing. Wolfwood seemed intrigued, parting only far enough to glance down. Vash slapped his hands over his face, not daring to peek through the cracks of his fingers. "Vash," You breathed, a yelp leaving his lips when he felt your smaller hand grasp him, "You're so gorgeous." Finally, Vash had gathered the courage to look at you from behind his hands, seeing the intrigued, bewildered expression on your face. You were tracing the neon glyphs running up his length, which would look like a normal human appendage had it not emerged from opened, flourishing petals. He was twitching with every slight touch, panting behind his hands as your fingers moved down, hips jumping and cock bouncing with even the slightest graze. "C–Careful, sensitive." Slick ooze coated his entire length, your hand glistening after releasing him from your grasp. Vash tossed a glance over his shoulder, seeing Wolfwood's furrowed brows and focused expression. Oh God, he thought this was weird didn't he? His worries dissipated the second Wolfwood reached around, using two fingers to gather up the slick coating him. He smirked, using his thumb to smear it around on his fingers before pulling his hand back. Vash would have been confused if he didn't feel a slimy finger circling his asshole, making him gasp and jump. "Tell us if it's too much," You soothed, laying back on the bed and coaxing Vash to come with you. He complied, of course he did, forearms holding himself above you as you whispered sweet words, followed by a quick, "Touch me again." Skin–warmed metal prodded at your entrance again, moving up, then down, before two fingers slowly entered you. In unison, Wolfwood pressed a finger into Vash, pulling a surprised mewl from his throat. Still, he melted into the touch, fingers pausing only briefly as he caught his bearings, before curling his prosthetic digits and stroking inside of your dripping cunt. The sounds you made were heavenly, his legs shaking as Wolfwood slowly worked him open. A second finger was added, his back arching and pressing down into your chest as he choked out a cry. "You're so pretty," You murmered through the haze, a grunt coming from Wolfwood behind him, "Please, Vash... I want you." Three words he never thought he would hear, three words that almost had him cumming on the spot paired with the quick work Wolfwood was making of him. He nodded frantically, glancing over his shoulder at Wolfwood, seeing his boxers now gone, cock impossibly hard and heavy under its own weight. Vash audibly choked, eyes wide when he made eye contact. "B– aha, big," Vash stuttered intelligently, earning a smirk in return. "How–" "The man upstairs blessed me in that way. Dont worry your pretty little head about it." Wolfwood pulled back, shucking down Vash's pants the rest of the way and pulling them off, allowing him to look back at you and crowd you in his space. Metal fingers gripped himself by the base, swiping one, two, three stripes up the line of your pussy, making his body jolt every time. The head caught on your entrance, his arms shaking as he slowly, oh so slowly, pushed himself into your welcoming heat. The slide was easy between your combined slick, his slow inch-by-inch entrance more for him than you to adjust. Once he bottomed out, you breathed a sigh, and he whimpered into your neck. Vash wasn't given much, if any time to adjust, before Wolfwood was pressing his cockhead against his hole, only managing to get two or three weak thrusts into your clenching heat before he was being split open. He was loud, the moan ripped from his throat when Wolfwood pushed himself in, filling him so good and so much. His cock twitched, jumped, and throbbed inside your soaked cunt, earning a string of pleas and mewls from your lips. He couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight, and he didn't even register the fact he had started moving back and forth in your heat in time with Wolfwood's thrusts until a particularly spongy spot inside him had been prodded by the other man's cockhead. "Ah, s–so much!" Crying out in pure bliss, Vash quickened his speed, the slap of Wolfwoods hips against his ass barely audible over his moans and mewls and whines. It was almost too much, almost enough to push him over the cliff of overstimulation, just barely toeing the line. Tears pooled in his eyes, knocking his forehead against yours as he panted into your open mouth. "I love you, I love you I love you I–" Vash sputtered, only a fraction of his brain working well enough to know he was going to cum fast and hard if he didn't try to anchor himself. "'m gonna cum, please, please cum with me." He didn't know who exactly he was talking to, you, Wolfwood, or both, but he was desperate. Bringing down the pad of his thumb, he spun quick hard circles around your clit, revelling in your gasps and whines. His hips stuttered when Wolfwood slammed into him with a particularly hard thrust, knocking him forward into you deeper, harder. He couldn't stop himself even if he tried, his voice caught in his throat as he choked, wailed, tears falling from his eyes and drool slipping from the corner of his mouth. Moan after syrupy thick moan, he emptied himself into your welcoming heat. The shockwaves of Wolfwood pounding into him mercilessly pushing you over the edge with his restless fingers. He could never forget your please, please, please now that he was the cause of your pleasure, pumping you full of viscous fluids and bringing you to your own finish. In sync, Wolfwood growled behind him, grabbing a fistful of his hair from behind and tugging him so his back arched, feeling a warm wetness spill into him. In silence, the three of you quivered, bodies shaking from the intensity as you stilled. The hand in his hair loosened, his body falling slack on top of you, both of you grunting at the impact. His cheek was pressed against your chest, smearing the drool running down his chin against your smooth skin. "Fuck," Wolfwood broke the silence, pulling out and away from Vash, "That was..." "So good," Vash slurred, mind broken as he continued to quake on top of you. Both you and Wolfwood laughed, turning him on his side to the center of the bed. He groaned, eyes glancing down between your legs to see the sheer amount of liquids that had left a sizeable puddle on the sheets. He couldn't find it in himself to be shy about it, simply smiling at you and murmuring an insincere, "Sorry." Your hand came up, gently smacking his chest in jest as you curled up as close as you could, partially to avoid the quickly cooling liquid and partially to bask in the afterglow with him. Wolfwood sighed, content as he laid down on the other side of Vash, throwing his arm over both of your waists. "No cleanup?" You mumbled into Vash's chest, earning a scoff from Wolfwood in return. "You wanna get up?" "Nooo," You whined. "Then it can wait 'til mornin'." Vash exhaled a weak laugh, his heart feeling so full, so warm, turning his head back to look at Wolfwood and getting a surprisingly tender kiss in return. Turning his head back to you, his warm fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he placed a slow, gentle kiss on your swollen lips. Just as he began to doze off, Wolfwood steadily snoring once again, he heard your exhausted, crackled voice in the back of his mind. “I love both of you. So, so much.” And in that moment, Vash the Stampede knew he had so much more to look forward to in his following days.

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 14

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 4.9K+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader, hoseok x reader

note | *cue that tiktok sound* okay, guys. we're back. did you miss us? hi! I'm back with my monthly update 💀 I already outlined everything. there are six chapters left in this series (not including the drabbles). thank you so much for patiently staying around. i appreciate y'all a lot. let me know your thoughts, enjoy reading!

main masterlist | series masterlist

When did texting someone become so hard?

It has been exactly three days since Taehyung got to talk to you again. He offered to drive you home after your date failed to show up. You said yes. You two had a friendly conversation in his car. Like you were old friends, which you were. But were you? It’s complicated. For the first time in years, he heard your laugh and saw you smile just like in the photos he saw when cleaning up at your shared house. He remembered you waving at him with a soft smile on your lips before getting into your apartment building.

You also said you never changed your number and you would reach out. But he wants to update you about the small celebration the bakery will have later next week. He tried typing something but later erased it before he could even finish the first word. He doesn’t know what to type or how to begin a conversation. So he just typed a single character and hit the send button.

It was past six in the evening. You were already in your PJs after a long day at work. Treating yourself with dumplings and beef fried rice from the nearest Chinese restaurant in your area, you let yourself indulge while your favorite sitcom plays on your TV screen.

“You’re not easy-going, but you’re passionate, and that’s good. And when you get upset about the little things, I think that I’m pretty good about making you feel better about that. And that’s good too. So, they can say that you’re high maintenance, but it’s okay because I like…maintaining you.”

You found yourself pursing your lips when your favorite character said that line. It was one of the quotes that stays in the back of your head almost every time. You were about to reach for the remote control to play it back again. But your phone, which you set into silent mode an hour ago, vibrated. Your eyebrows shoot up as you read who sent you a message.

From Jung Hoseok

Hi, YN. I really regret missing our date last time. Would you be willing to give me another chance with a cup of coffee this Friday? I know a great cafe around the city 🙂

The day after he failed to show up at the restaurant, you woke up to a text message from Hoseok apologizing again. You reassured him that you understood and he promised to make it up to you. You didn’t really expect anything from that and thought that he would just pass by like your past dates that Martha set up. So seeing him reaching out again was unexpected.

You smiled as you typed a reply.

To Jung Hoseok

Will there be tea? I don’t drink coffee.

You see those three dots immediately popping in, indicating that he’s typing. So you quickly typed in a follow-up message.

To Jung Hoseok

Just kidding! I’m okay with Friday. Around 5 PM?

He was quick to reply,

From Jung Hoseok

Okay. Should I pick you up?

You thought you would just feel pressured if he picked you up at your home. So you just offered an alternative.

To Jung Hoseok

We can just meet there :) Just send me the cafe’s location.

From Jung Hoseok

[location pin] 

To Jung Hoseok

Thank you! See you this Friday then.

From Jung Hoseok

See you, YN!

That’s a date for Friday, which is a few days from now. Even though he reached out again, you thought of keeping your expectations low. Because it helps avoid disappointment. You probably learned after your last dates with those guys you met before.

You continued playing the episode you were watching. Not even five minutes later, your phone vibrated again. You thought Hoseok forgot something. But immediately after reading the contact name, you froze staring at your screen.

From Aaa Love

👋

Of course, you quickly recognized who it was. Suddenly, you felt a sense of nostalgia in your head after seeing that name for a long time. Years after keeping this contact hidden on your list, you totally forgot that you never changed his contact name even after the accident. You cannot even remember when you hid his name in your list. Maybe it was one of those nights you were drunk with friends and made some decisions.

Before replying, you renamed the contact.

To Kim Taehyung

Hi, Tae 🙂

While waiting for his reply, you recalled that night. You remembered feeling good entering your apartment even though your date didn’t show up. When Jisoo asked you how it went through a video chat, you said that the date didn’t happen.

“Then, why do you look happy?” she asked that time.

That’s when you snapped out of your daze, “D-Do I?”

“Yeah, you’ve been smiling ever since we got on this call.”

“Oh…” your lips formed a thin line before speaking again. “I… I saw an old friend in the same restaurant.”

The last time you and Jisoo really talked about Taehyung was still the time she showed up unexpectedly after her wedding. You cried, she cried.

“Really? Who?”

“Taehyung.”

You wait for her reaction and you gradually see her eyes widen.

“What? What is he doing there? Did you talk?” she asked with surprise in her tone.

“Apparently, he’s doing some business here. And yes, we talked. He offered to drive me home.” you shared.

“And?”

“It was nice.”

Your simple and short answer had Jisoo simply staring at you through the screen. It was like she was studying you. You knew she had a lot to say in her head based on her quiet reaction. But then, she just said,

“Okay.”

From Kim Taehyung

Hello, YN. Just making sure I have the right number here haha

Taehyung finally replied. You let the episode play in the background as you tap on your screen,

To Kim Taehyung

I told you I didn’t change it!

From Kim Taehyung

I know, I’m sorry hehe

Just by the text, you can imagine him awkwardly laughing as he says that. Before you can reply, another text popped in.

From Kim Taehyung

Btw the celebration will be in the bakeshop. Next Saturday, 2 PM.

From Kim Taehyung

It’s a late lunch event with friends and family. We’re hoping you can come 😊

Reading that, a smile formed on your lips. With you working at school, you are usually free on weekends. 

To Kim Taehyung

Will do!

“Can you put dinosaurs in it?”

“Of course, bud. Anything you like.”

Taehyung softly ruffled Jihoon’s hair, who remained focused on coloring his activity book. The little kid’s birthday is coming up soon and the preparations for it had begun. Since Jimin would be the one making the multi-layered birthday Jurassic-themed cake, Taehyung offered to make the cupcakes. 

A couple of toys, specifically, dinosaurs, are all over the table that Jihoon and Taehyung occupy. And ever since he arrived at the shop this morning, the kid kept talking about his favorite animal. Being the best uncle that he is, Taehyung listens while being quietly amazed by how much Jihoon knows about dinosaurs. 

“Ashley just sent a copy of the contract in our e-mail earlier. She wants us to review it first before finalizing.” Jimin spoke while placing an apple juice box on the table.

Jihoon scoots a little to accommodate his father sitting next to him. He stayed busy with his crayons. 

“Have you read it?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung shakes his head, “I haven’t. I think I left my phone on silent while doing those lemon tarts.”

“Well, I think you should read it. They put something they probably forgot to mention before.” his friend noted.

His eyebrows draw together before reaching for his phone. Taehyung immediately clicked on the file sent to him from Ashley. He carefully read word by word written in the document. He thought everything was already mentioned in their online meeting days after he went to Incheon. Until he read one of the sections of the contract.

Staffing Arrangements

The bakery agrees to temporarily assign one of its capable bakers to work at the restaurant in Incheon for four weeks, beginning on the first day of offering the pastries on the menu of the restaurant. During this time, the assigned baker will head pastry production, equip training for restaurant staff, and guarantee regular quality control. The restaurant agrees to cover the entrusted baker's salary, expenses, and even housing if demanded.

After pausing for a few seconds, Taehyung scanned his eyes all over that part again. Just to make sure he understood it right. He looked back up to Jimin, who had his arms crossed over his chest while waiting for a reaction from him.

“So?”

“This means one of us had to stay here while the other had to manage around in Incheon.”

September is usually dry and warmer in Incheon.

After living in this part of the country for around two years now, you already got better at predicting the weather and climate. But today, your predictions were proven wrong when you had to stay under a waiting shed while the harsh raindrops poured continuously. You were too confident that you left your umbrella at home.

4:12 PM

You looked down at your phone. It has been almost thirty minutes since you stood in this shed, waiting for your usual bus to arrive. But you don’t know why there have only been two buses that passed by. You were unable to get on any of those since both were packed, considering the unexpected rainfall. You tried booking a cab but there’s nothing around your area at the moment. Your friend, Aileen already left earlier with her husband while Martha offered to drive you home but you live almost twenty minutes away from her. So, you kindly rejected her offer. Again, you were too confident that you would be able to ride the bus quickly.

Puffing your cheeks, you began dialing someone’s number. He answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Hoseok…” you greeted.

He was quick to reply, “Hi, are you on your way? I’m driving to the cafe.”

“Yeah, uhm, I’m kinda running late for our date tonight.” you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Everything alright?” 

“Haha, yeah. Just waiting for a bus to stop by here the school. It’s raining like crazy today.” you mentioned.

“Yeah, it is… you know, I can pick you up if you want to.” he offered.

Your eyebrows lifted, “Really?”

“Of course, YN.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you smiled, finally.

“No worries. I’m on my way.”

“Okay, take care,” you said before ending the call.

With your plans of getting ready pre-date at your home canceled, you sat on one of the benches in the shed and touched up yourself quickly. You reapplied your lipstick with your front camera as your mirror. You ran your hand through the stubborn flyaways of your hair before tying it into the easiest half-up, half-down hairstyle you know. You’re still in your usual work clothes, a statement T-shirt (with a friendly and maybe corny quote written on it and jeans. Originally, you would wear something cuter. But this one will do. Even though the cool breeze makes you wish you wore something warmer too.

And less than five minutes later, a black Audi stops right in front of the stop. Your legs bounced restlessly. The windows were tinted dark so you cannot really see who’s inside. But the door on the other side of the car opened and there, you recognized the man from the pictures on Martha’s phone. Almost like sunshine, his smile as he made his way to you made you smile too. Your fidgeting legs had already calmed down as he stopped in front of you.

“YN?” He asked since this was the first time you two really saw each other.

You nodded, “Hi. You’re Hoseok, right?”

Although you were at ease with his arrival, there was still an awkward tension between you two. But it tones down when you two chuckled.

“Yes, nice to meet you.” he smiled again. He quickly noticed you hugging yourself. “It’s cold. How about let’s get you inside?”

“Sounds good.” you agreed.

Joining him under his transparent umbrella, your shoulders brushed against each other, and you could feel his warmth beside you. He opened the car door for you while ensuring no raindrop would touch your skin. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ when you finally got to sit inside. You watched as he made his way back to the driver’s side of the car.

“Are you okay? Everything’s fine?” he asked immediately.

“Yeah, thank you again for picking me up,” you replied. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied before reaching for something from the backseat. 

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. It was like your eyes sparkled as he handed you the small bouquet of yellow tulips, tied with a matching gold ribbon. 

“I’m really sorry for missing our date last time.” he apologized, watching you appreciate the flowers.

It has been so long since you received flowers. You cannot even remember when was the last time. So you cannot help but feel this funny feeling in your stomach while you look at the flowers. Especially since yellow tulips are your favorite.

“You didn’t have to. I understand why,” you spoke, tilting your head in his direction. Your voice was small and soft.

“Still, you waited for me alone in that restaurant. I cancelled last minute… Do you love it?”

“Of course, I love yellow tulips!” you exclaimed before taking in its subtle scent.

“I’m glad. I may or may not have asked Martha for help with those.” he chuckled.

Hoseok began driving while you find it more comfortable being around him. He has this infectious smile that brings more warmth in this rainy weather. It probably helps when he’s with patients.

“How long have you been waiting there?” he asked, starting up a conversation.

“Oh, you know, like half an hour.” you sneered at yourself. You hear him gasp. You chuckled, “To be fair, it is a rainy day. I can usually find a ride easily. I just didn’t expect that it would rain today.”

“It’s usually sunny at this time of the year,” he noted.

“It is. I was already waiting for the bus when the rain poured,” you told him. 

“I thought you and Martha usually go home together?” he asked, looking from the road to you for a quick second.

“Sometimes. But I feel bad for making her drive past her house for like twenty minutes,” you revealed. 

You tried offering to pay for her gas but she declined. Although she constantly assured you that it’s fine, you feel like an inconvenience, especially after a busy day at work. You are very aware it’s a you problem. But it’s just the way it is.

You shifted in your seat, “How about you? Did you have work today?”

He nods, “Ah, yes. I got off my shift earlier this day. Then went home to see my dog before dropping her off at my sister’s.”

“Oh, you have a dog?”

“Yeah, a senior dog but Mickey’s still the family’s baby.” he chuckled. “We take turns with her. Some days, she’s with me. Or my sister’s or my parents’.”

“So, you’re originally from here in Incheon?” you asked, curious when he mentioned his family.

He shakes his head, “No, we moved here when I was in high school. I left during college. Then, came back when I began working. I like staying close to my family. And you?”

“No, I moved here from Seoul two years ago.” you shared.

“And what about your family? They stayed there?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m an only child. My parents died years ago– Please, don’t say you’re sorry. It’s fine, it’s been so long.” you chuckled when you saw how his expression changed. “But I do have my Aunty Belle. She’s around the city too. She looked after me until I left to study in SNU.”

“You went to SNU too?” Hoseok exclaimed.

You beamed, “Yes– Wait, we’re here?”

He laughed, “Yeah.”

Distracted, you didn’t notice the car arriving in front of the cafe Hoseok talked about. He told you to wait for him, leaving the car with the umbrella. He opened the car door for you and helped you with the umbrella. He does the same thing when opening the cafe’s front door for you. And when a bell clangs when the door opens, you get reminded of your favorite bakeshop back in Seoul.

“I’ll be having iced americano and a slice of carrot cake. How ‘bout you?” Hoseok turned to you as you two stood in front of the staff.

“I’ll have green tea and banana muffins,” you answered.

After ordering, you two sat on one of the empty pearly white tables and chairs near the glass window while waiting. It was a well-lit place. It has a minimalist and clean aesthetic. Hoseok sat across you, tapping his fingers along to the music playing in the background.

“So, what made you agree to do this blind date?” you asked him.

“Well, I’ve been single for the last three months and I never really tried blind dating before so I said yes when Martha told me about you,” he answered.

“Well, I hope she said nice things.” you two chuckled.

“Don't worry, she did.” He assured you. “How about you?”

“Martha had been setting me up for blind dates these past few months because I’ve been single ever since I came here in Incheon. The last dates I went to were unsuccessful so she promised that this one was gonna be great. So I agreed for the last time.” you told him.

“And so far, how is this one going?” he asked cheekily.

You pretended to think for a second, humming as you rubbed your chin. He laughed.

“It’s going great. You get plus points for my favorite flowers.” you smiled.

“Even though I didn't show up last time?”

He seemed really apologetic about that. He brought it up again for the nth time even though you already told him countless times that it’s okay.

You puffed, “Hoseok, it's fine. I really do understand. I used to work at a hospital, things can get a little spontaneous. No worries about it.”

A staff member came with your orders. She carefully placed your drinks and food on your table. You can feel your shoulders relaxing as you feel the warmth of the tea on your tongue when you take a sip from the cup.

“How was it?”

You smiled, “Nice. Perfect for a rainy day. How did you find this place? I don't think I ever reached this part of the city.”

“This is the only open cafe I see whenever I get off from my shift very late at night. I love their coffee here.” 

You nodded while taking a bite from the banana muffin you ordered. And you quickly recognized its difference from your usual banana muffin. You look at Hoseok who's enjoying his cake.

“How was it?” he asked, pointing his fork at your muffins.

“This feels a little dry and the texture’s a bit rough,” you whispered, not really wanting the nice lady at the cashier to hear you.

You don't want to be critical. But you just got used to having a soft and fluffy banana muffin or even bread with the right amount of sweetness in it.

He leaned a bit forward, mirroring you, “Really?” 

“Yeah, seems like it had a lot of flour,” you added before offering him one of the muffins.

You watched him take a bite and chew on it. After gulping it down, you wait for his opinion.

“It is dry.” he nods before putting the muffin down. “You seem to know a lot about bread. Do you bake?”

No, but I know someone who put his heart out and is a perfectionist in baking.

Instead of saying that, you shake your head.

“Oh, no. But I do love a lot of bread and pastries. I just know friends who bake back in Seoul.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We probably didn't get to discuss that in the meeting we had.” 

Taehyung, along with Jimin, sat at the same table since that morning. Jihoon’s mom already picked him up earlier and the shop was already sold out by 5 PM so they closed early. Now, they are just having a call with Ashley about the contract.

“So, it means that based here on the contract, you want one of us to stay there in Incheon to oversee the pastries.” Jimin clarified.

“Yes, we just want to make sure that the quality of the products will be the same as what you have there in Seoul. Also, we thought that it might be better for our crew members to personally learn about it from the baker himself.” Ashley explained through the call set in loudspeaker mode.

Jimin looked at Taehyung who nods with that. This time, Taehyung has a question.

“You said that there would be a salary?” 

“Yes. There would be a separate salary for the baker who will be staying here with us for four weeks. And since traveling from Seoul to Incheon can be a hassle, if you want to, we can also provide temporary accommodation with complete furniture. My husband runs a condominium business here so the accommodation would be on one of his buildings.”

Both of the men’s jaws dropped with that information. Their eyes were wide as they met each other's gaze. They definitely didn't expect that information from her. They were unaware of how rich she was. They just know that she runs a great restaurant in Incheon.

Jimin cleared his dry throat, “Okay, thank you for clarifying it. But we hope you can still wait before we sign the contract since me and my friend still have to talk about it.” 

“Sure, of course. Just reach out to us whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you. Have a great night.”

As soon as Jimin ended the call, the two exchanged looks.

“So?” Taehyung began.

Jimin shakes his head, “I can't. Jihoon just began going to school. You know what my co-parenting arrangements with his mom are.” 

Taehyung nods. After learning about Jihoon’s existence, Jimin wanted to make up for those years he missed. He was hands-on in everything that his son takes part in. He is also helping Jihoon’s mom in looking after him since she is currently working in a nine-to-five job.

“It's fine with me. I went on vacation there once. It's nice there. Plus, we can split the salary.” He commented. 

And he didn't really have any obligations here in Seoul. Unlike his best friend. It would be easier and better if he went. Jimin can manage the shop while taking care of Jihoon. Taehyung is flexible in working everywhere. 

“It would also be nice to stay in a new place.”

“No, but the living finances in Seoul are really more expensive than here.”

You don't sure how long has it been since you and Hoseok arrived here in the cafe. You already finished your tea while the ice on his drink has already melted. The only muffin left was half-eaten. The plate of his carrot cake was already on your after he let you finish it when he noticed that you liked it after giving you a taste.

“It is. That's also another reason why I came back here.” Hoseok exclaimed. “I can't stand living with another careless roommate again.”

You laughed when he referenced his bad roommate experience he told you earlier. Hoseok has been funny and nice ever since he picked you up today. He talked about Mickey, his life back in Seoul, and a little bit about his family.

“But you said you stayed in Seoul after graduating, right?” he recalled.

“Yes, I did.”

“How? Did you live alone?”

“At first, I became roommates with my best friend there, who’s also a nurse. That lasted for a couple of years... Then, I moved in with the guy I was dating at the time.” You told him.

“Like in his apartment?”

You shake your head, “We bought a house.”

His jaw dropped, “You bought a house? In Seoul?!”

“Yeah, we did some research and saved up for it starting from our first anniversary. Apparently, foreclosed properties are cheap there.” You shared it like a fact.

Taehyung was the first one to bring up the idea of living together a few weeks before your anniversary. After talking about it, you two did some research and went to a lot of open houses. Then, you found out about foreclosed properties. Taehyung and you looked in about four foreclosed houses before landing on the one you called home. 

“What happened to the house after you broke up?” He asked.

You purse your lips, “He's living in it. But we agreed to talk about it soon.”

How soon is soon though?

“So it was a good breakup?”

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

The last sentence was almost a whisper by the end. You cleared your throat as if something was stuck in it. It was your turn to ask.

“How about you? How was your last relationship?”

Hoseok leaned back on his chair, crossing his arm over his chest, “It was great for the most part. We’ve been together for only one year. I actually proposed to her.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together, “Really? What happened?”

“We had a lot of misunderstandings in the last months of our relationship. It can be about everything. But mostly, she gets mad whenever I have an emergency in the hospital and I understand that. So one day, we harshly broke up during a fight before I left for work.”

“So it's a bad breakup?” 

“Yeah, a bit bitter.” He sneered. “But at least I don't share any property with her.”

It was a teasing remark to lighten up the mood. You grimaced and rolled your eyes. He laughed.

“The lady was too kind to ask us to go,” you said as Hoseok drove.

The moment you and Hoseok realized that the rain had stopped and the sky was already dark, you two got up and left. Hoseok insisted on paying, even playfully threatening to throw your wallet away if you ever pulled it out of your pocket.

“I’m sure she doesn't mind. She gave us free cupcakes.” He replied, pointing to the box resting on your lap.

“Are you sure you don't want to take this?” you asked because he handed you the box as soon as the lady gave it.

“Yeah, just update me with your review about it. I'm interested to hear more about your thoughts.”

You bit your lip from hearing that, “Okay.”

After a few minutes of listening (and singing along) to songs that played in his stereo, you arrived in front of your building. Of course, Hoseok opened your door for you. He helped you with the bag you brought to school so you could carry the flowers and cupcakes.

“Should I help you to your apartment?” He asked while you slid your bag into your arm, struggling. 

You gave up, letting him take your bag and the cupcakes, “Okay. Come in.”

You opened the door to your building and led the way to the stairs. He assured you that he was okay as you kept on looking back at him. And when you unlocked your apartment, you turned around.

"Do you want to go inside? Water, juice, or anything to drink?” You offered before putting the things on the counter near your door.

He smiled, “It's fine, I can't stay for too long. My next shift is at nine. I just want to make sure you'll make it to your door without dropping any of those.”

You looked down at your watch, “Oh my god. It’s already past eight. You should go! I should've taken a cab.”

“YN, it's okay! It's still early.” he chuckled. “Plus, I had a really great time talking with you.”

Your stomach flutters, looking at him. You noticed the same smile you saw earlier.

“I hope this isn't the last time we'll go out.”

You nodded, “Of course. Martha did it right this time.”

“How about next weekend? Sunday?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll be back from Seoul by then.” 

His eyebrows raised, “Really? I’m going to be in Seoul for a conference on Saturday. When are you coming there?”

“The same day! I’m going to visit some friends.”  

“Maybe we can go there in Seoul together? So you don't have to commute.” He offered.

“That sounds good!” You agreed before looking down at your watch again. “But I think you should go now. I know you still have to do stuff before going to work.”

“Okay. Let's just talk about it later.” 

“Okay. Thank you for the flowers and everything, Hoseok,” you state before leaning in to give a quick kiss on his cheek.

He smiles, “You're welcome, YN. Tonight was great.”

“Text me when you make it to the hospital. Drive safely! Good night.”  You said as he walked back.

“Good night, YN.” He waved before walking down the stairs.

You closed the door to your apartment before leaning your back on it, looking at the yellow tulips on the counter.

What a lovely night.

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[jackharloww]

“It’s not nice to scream”

Summary: The one where you and Jack get into a heated argument and the kids wake up. - Angst to fluff

Jack was working on his album, which meant he was away in the studio for hours every day for the past few weeks. When the weekend came you thought he would stay at home with you, but at first, he had to go to the studio to finish a track, after that, it was a work lunch and after that, he went out with the boys. Meanwhile, you were at home with both your kids, feeling exhausted.

Your children were good and nice kids, but with Nathaniel teething and being attached to you and Grace being an energetic 4-year-old, you felt overwhelmed. You had tried to get ahold of Jack, but he wasn't picking up, It wasn't until you called Clay that you knew where Jack was.

"Look who finally decides to come home" You rolled your eyes as you walked past him and into the kitchen to put Nathaniel's chewing toy in the freezer. Grace and Nathaniel had just fallen asleep when Jack walked into the house.

"What's with the attitude?" Jack asked, confused. He followed you into the kitchen and stood there with a hand on his hip.

"Well let's see, my husband has apparently forgotten he has a family at home"

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his eyebrows. You walked past him, going to the living room to clean the toys that were scattered all over the floor.

"Let me remind you. You have two kids at home that would love to spend time with their father" You roughly said as you picked up one of Grace's dolls before shoving it in her toy basket.

"I've been working Y/N" Jack tensed his jaw, his hand was balled up in a fist and it was clear he was getting worked up. He was already in a bad mood before he came home, there was this one track that didn't turn out the way he wanted it. He just wanted to go home and relax for the rest of the night, not expecting his wife to blow up on him.

“I just find it funny you..” you were speaking but Jack's loud sigh interrupted you

“Here we go” he mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Excuse me?” You could practically feel your blood pumping into your veins, You couldn't believe the audacity. "What the actual fuck has gotten into you?" you lashed out, your voice getting louder with every word.

"Y/N I have a lot to do at work" Jack couldn't help but raise his voice as well.

"And I have a lot to do at home. I understand you having to be at the studio or going to work dinners, but I can't comprehend you going out with the boys instead of coming home to us"

"Well, maybe I just want some time alone and be with my boys" He retaliated.

"And I don't?" your shoulders slumped down as your voice got caught in your throat. You swallowed and took a deep breath, looking down at your feet before meeting his, now, dark eyes, "I can't do this alone Jack"

"You could've just asked me for help" he shrugged, his tone still filled with anger

"I shouldn't have to ask you Jack" you spoke sharply, closing your eyes for a second, moving your hand to your forehead. "But I called you multiple times this morning, but you of course have it on fucking airplane mode"

"Well that's how I work in the studio, you know that already" He spat out, not even trying to understand your point of view.

"Well maybe fucking change that now that you have a family and wife that needs to come in contact with you" You didn't know he was acting like this, and it broke your heart.

"I can't deal with this right now" Jack snapped back, he walked to the foyer with you in tow.

"So you're just going to leave?" you whispered, not trusting your voice anymore. Jack grabbed his car keys and turned around to look at you,

"Better than being here" he mumbled and walked out, slamming the door in the process. The words he said cut deep, and you couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Just as the door closed, you heard cries coming from Nathaniel's room, he must have woken up from all the screaming and shouting. You wiped away the tears that were falling from your face and walked to Nathaniel's room. You picked him up and brought him closer to your chest as you rocked him back and forth, trying to calm him down.

"Mommy" You heard Grace's tiny voice say from behind you. She was standing next to Nathaniel's door with tears in her eyes, "Where's Daddy?" she asked. She had also woken up to the screaming and gotten sad.

You took a deep breath and quickly dried your own tears, for her sake, "He forgot something at Uncle Urby's place" you lied. You sat down in the chair you had in Nathaniel's room and motioned for her, "Come here". She sat down in your lap and you hugged her and Nathaniel.

"Why were you and Daddy screaming?" Grace sniffled. You looked at her for a few seconds, not knowing what to tell her.

"We got a little angry with each other, but it was not right of us to scream, I'm sorry baby"

"It's not nice to scream," she said, scrunching her nose and wiping away the snot.

"You're totally right, It's not nice" You gave her a kiss on the head. You looked down and saw that Nathaniel had fallen asleep, so you put him back in his crib before picking Grace up.

"Do you want to sleep in Mommy's bed?" you asked her, receiving excited nods. The both of you laid down in bed, and you played with her hair as she fell asleep.

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

Meanwhile, Jack had gone to Urban's place. His friend could clearly note the anger on his face. "What's up" Urban stepped aside and let him walk in.

"I don't even want to talk about it" He walked straight to the living room and slumped down on the couch. Urban looked at him, confusion written all over his face.

"Weren't you going home? Did something happen there?" Urban didn't let it go

"I said I didn't want to talk about it" Jack groaned

"Well, I don't give a fuck. Does Y/N know you're here?" he asked him, sitting down next to him

"No, I just walked out" Jack looked down, he knew what he did was wrong, but he couldn't stay there and scream at you, his blood was boiling and he needed to get out of there to calm down.

"That's low" Urban was completely honest with him, "I'm telling her you're here, you know how worried she can get," Urban said and picked up his phone to text you. Jack could only nod, even though he was angry he knew Urban was right, he didn't want you to worry and overthink the situation.

Urban: Jack's here, I think it's best he stays the night

You: Thank you.

"Now speak, what happened" Urban gave Jack a little time before he made him talk. Jack told him everything, and Urban was furious at him.

"Dude, I know you're my brother and all that, but that was fucked up of you. Y/N didn't say anything wrong. You out of everyone know how important family is, and that they come first"

"I know, It's just all been too much and I guess I took it out on her" Jack ran his fingers through his hair, "I fucked up didn't I?"

"Just talk to her tomorrow, but yes you fucked up bro" Urban patted his shoulder, "I'll go with you tomorrow, I can take the kids out for breakfast, I know a place Grace will love and you two can talk it out"

"Thank you" Jack gave him a hug, thankful he had Urban by his side.

They both got ready for bed and Jack walked into Urban's guest bedroom. He picked up his phone and decided to send you a message.

Jack: I'm sorry. I love you always.

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

You were thankful that Urban had sent you a message last night, letting you know Jack was there. It made you calm down, and you fell asleep shortly after.

You woke up with Grace's feet in your face and chuckled as you moved her around so she was lying normally. You checked your phone and saw Jack's message from last night and your chest tightened. At least he calmed down, you thought.

You had just gotten out of the bathroom when you heard the front door being unlocked. You took a deep breath and quickly fixed your hair before going to meet him.

And there he was, He was standing there a guilty look on his face with Urban standing next to him.

"Hi" you said, Urban walked up to you and gave you a hug.

"Good morning, I'm taking the kids out for breakfast," He told you with a gentle smile.

"Let me just get them ready" you didn't even acknowledge Jack, not having the energy to talk to him just yet.

"I'll help," Jack mumbled. When you didn't respond, he nodded to himself and went to get Nathaniel ready, who had just woken up. You woke Grace up. She got very excited to see her dad and uncle and became even more excited when you told her she was going out to breakfast with Urban. After half an hour, both kids were ready, and Urban took them out.

You took a shaky breath as you walked into the living room. Jack sat awkwardly on the sofa, like a guest in his own home, waiting for the two of you to talk.

As soon as you sat down, Jack apologized, saying, "Y/N, I'm so sorry." He rubbed his hands on his legs, a nervous habit of his, before running his fingers through his curls. However, his anxiety only increased when you remained silent. "Please say something," he whispered and reached out to hold your hand.

You pulled your hand away and finally looked at him, "Sorry? That's all you have to say?"

"I know I fucked up, but please let me make it up to you" he begged

"You hurt me," you expressed, looking down at your fidgeting hands, twisting your wedding ring as you often do when anxious. "You promised that work would never take priority over our family, yet that's exactly what happened."

"I never meant to hurt you, I know what I did was wrong" he spoke, his voice getting caught in his throat. Jack was really regretting his actions and the way he spoke to you last night.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me" you sighed, "but you did, and you made me feel neglected. It's not only been hard for me, but the kids as well"

Jack nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking, "I understand. I've had so much at work that I let it consume me. I took my frustration out on you, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I messed up" He spoke, and his eyes glistened with tears. "Please let me make it up to you. You and the kids mean the world to me, I don't want to lose you"

You reached forward and grabbed his hand, in that moment he closed his eyes and a tear slipped down his cheek. "I don't want to lose you either" you couldn't hold back your own tears, "But something has got to change Jack, We barely see you at home"

Jack squeezed your hand "I promise you I will be better, You, Grace and Nathaniel are my one and only priority, and I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that. I regret everything I said last night, you don't deserve that"

"You’re right, I didn’t deserve that. But I'm glad you came to your senses" you gave him a gentle smile as you reached out and wiped away his tears, "We just want our Jack back"

"Oh he's back" Jack chuckled. He grabbed the hand you had on his face and pulled it closer to his lips, he planted a kiss in the palm of your hand as you now cradled his cheek. "Thank you for grounding me, I love you" He whispered

"I love you too" You leaned in and kissed him.

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

Okay damn, It's been more than a month since I posted a concept. Glad to be back I guess

This has been in the draft for months….. so sorry if the ending seems rushed… it is

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux , @killatravtramp , @middlechild404 , @harlowcomehome , @harlowsbby , @neon-lights-and-glitter , @nattinatalia , @itsyagirljaz , @hoodharlow

[simpforboys]

stay quiet - 2

rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you and rafe escape from singh’s

warnings: smut!! fingering, fluff moments, violent, angst (?), swearing, kidnapping, mention of murder

find part one here

the sun peeking through the windows was enough to make you groan, rolling over into the naked man next to you.

your legs hurt from last nights activities, body tired as you hummed against the warm chest.

maybe it was the memory, you and rafe waking up together in tannyhill.

but the realization that you were in fact not in tannyhill and rather kidnapped by carlos signh made you snap awake.

“rafe, wake up.” you mumbled, shaking the sleeping man awake.

he groaned, shifting slightly.

you moved to sit up, eyes readjusting to the suite you and rafe shared.

checking the clock, it read 11:24am. you had just about four hours to tell signh where the diary was or you would die.

“rafe, baby, c’mon.”

you got out of bed, grabbing your… washed clothes?

the cropped shorts and tank top you had worn on poguelandia was now washed and waiting for you on the dresser.

you quickly changed into them, releasing a deep breath as you glanced at rafe.

you began knocking on the door, causing the man to jolt awake.

“tried to wake you,” you shrugged.

“what-“

“i have to talk to mr. singh!” you shouted from the door, hearing rafe rushing to put some clothes on.

the guard opened the door, cautiously eying you. he looked up to see rafe buckling his pants, his upper body still naked.

“don’t think we didn’t hear your reunion last night. don’t let it happen again.”

rafe couldn’t help but smirk at the guard as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him.

“mr. singh!”

you called out, seeing the man eating fruit at the dining table.

“good morning, miss l/n, or should i say mrs. cameron?” he joked.

“i don’t know where the original diary is. but i do know where there is a copy.”

mr. singh raised his eyebrows at you in suspicion.

as you were beginning to tell singh, a phone call caused him to groan. he answered it angrily, causing you to look at rafe. the man only shrugged at you.

singh's lips curled into a smirk.

"yes of course, portis. i'll meet you there in ten minutes."

your face fell from the name. portis, the man who had took you to barbados from poguelandia.

"i have some business to attend to. sounds like your friends, y/n."

"portis found them?" you asked in shock, moving to get up but rafe pulled you back down.

"portis is dead. i shot him last night while you two had your own little... homecoming."

your face fell as mr. singh got up.

"please don't hurt them." you choked out, eyes filled with tears as you imagined the worst.

singh didn't respond as he left out the door. the guards escorted you and rafe back into your room.

"rafe-" your heart was pounding as you were in full panic mode, not wanting to lose any of your friends.

"shhhh, stay with me, y/n."

he pulled you into his chest as you tried to calm down, but the attack you were feeling wasn't going away.

rafe brought his voice down into a whisper.

"i need you here with me, baby. this is our only chance in getting outta here, alright? i need your head here."

you sucked in deep breaths, nodding your head at you stared at your lover.

"i have a plan, okay?"

you nodded, still trying to relax yourself enough to escape the hotel.

rafe's plan sounded absolutely absurd, but in the moment you would do anything to get out and help your friends.

"oh, rafe! fuck! right there!" you screamed out, banging your hand against the shower to make the illusion that you two were fucking.

rafe stood behind the door of the shower, ready to attack as he moaned back loudly.

the suite door opened, your hands shaking from the risky situation.

"yessssss! so good!" you yelled.

"i told you two not-"

just as the guard opened the door to the bathroom, rafe jumped out and punched the man to the floor. he fell with a flood as you jumped out of the shower, watching as rafe continued to beat the man until he fell unconscious.

and it suddenly hit you how you put your life in rafe's hands, unconsciously knowing he could end it at any minute if he truly wanted to.

but you didn't have time to react as he grabbed your hand, gun in the other, carefully guiding you out into the dining room you sat at moments ago.

rafe cleared the corners with the gun as you quietly searched around for safe door. "rafe."

you whispered, nodding your head to one that lead directly onto the side of the house. there was a bit of a drop off, making you question if that why it wasn't armed.

rafe slowly pushed the door open, ready to shoot at any danger. he grabbed your hand once again, heart stammering in his chest as he breathed in and out. was it really that easy?

"alright, ready?" he whispered to you, looking around the corners to make sure the pathway was clear. you nodded, holding onto his big bicep in fear.

with that, he took off into the brush that surrounded the hotel as you followed.

your chest began to hurt with how far you had ran, exhaustion overcoming your body as you panted.

a hay-filled truck made its way slowly down a paved road as you jumped onto the back, accidentally banging your knee into the gate.

"ow, fuck." you mumbled as rafe jumped on behind you, both of your faces dropping as a man sat in the back. without having time to react, rafe hopped over the gate and began punching the man.

"rafe-" you called out, your chest rising and falling quickly as he suddenly pushed the man off the truck.

your jaw dropped, feeling rafe help you over the gate. but you were too shocked to react.

"what the fuck?" you whispered.

"he'll be fine. i had to do it, y/n."

you slowly nodded, sitting down and finally resting. your back laid against the tarp as rafe sat next to you, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh. the motion caused chills to run down your entire body, knowing what those hands had done.

his knuckles showed the evidence, purple and bruising with blood seeping up.

"you're bleeding." you pointed out, noticing the way he clenched his fist against you.

"i'll be okay, pretty girl."

he turned his hand over, holding yours gently. the way his touch was so soft almost made you forget how dangerous he was, and ultimately you knew this was a huge risk.

but sometimes, risks are worth it.

"they're probably going to have someone check the back- we need to be hidden."

rafe nodded in agreement, picking up the tarp and helping you slide underneath. he quickly followed, making sure everything looked natural.

"i can't believe we escaped one of the scariest men ever," you whispered.

rafe's lips twisted into a small grin, wrapping his arm around you protectively.

"i'm just glad i got my girl back."

"your girl, hmm?" you whispered, cuddling into his side.

"always been my girl, y/n. always will be."

you felt his touch against your thigh, the tips of his fingers feeling like hot taps.

"rafe..." you mewled out, biting your lip.

"horny again, mama?" rafe couldn't help but smirk. you were always so needy, so desperate for him.

"we shouldn't."

"let me take care of you, but you really gotta be quiet, okay?"

you nodded as you felt his big hand reach down into your pants, his finger circling your clit before inserting itself inside of you.

you gasped out, your body tightly against his as he held you close to him with one arm. "shhhhhh."

he curled his fingers inside of you, using his free hand to cover your mouth as you panted against him.

rafe loved how much of a fucking slut you were. always ready and eager to take him, no matter where or what you were doing.

"good girl," he praised. his thumb continued to circle your clit as he fucked his fingers into your faster.

you were gently rolling your hips against him, trying not the cause the tarp to move too much. rafe was pressing kisses against your temple, the sound of hay rustling overpowered the noise of your wetness.

the risk of getting caught at any moment had your adrenaline pumping, your stomach tightening as you pushed rafe's white button up shirt up towards his stomach. you ran your hands down his abs, your fingernails leaving marks as he whimpered.

you bit down onto his bicep as you both felt the truck come to a halt. both your hearts were pounding, but rafe made no signs of stopping until you came over his fingers.

"we're just heading to the ports." the driver said, his voice muffled from the tarp.

"stay fucking quiet." rafe whispered harshly in your ear, his hand covering your mouth again.

your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, stars filling your vision. you could be exposed at literally any second, but rafe only made sure you got to come.

your pussy clenched against rafe's fingers as you came, legs shaking as you tried to keep your body from rolling. rafe pulled you tighter, his breathing short as the men continued to talk outside.

"anything in the back?" a man asked.

"just some hay."

it was silent for a moment until you were cleared to proceed. your body was sweating from the heat underneath the tarp, your orgasm making it worse. rafe was smirking to himself as he licked his fingers clean.

you gently pulled the tarp off your heads, breathing in the fresh air.

"holy fuck," you panted.

rafe pressed his lips to yours, both of you laughing into the kiss as seagulls flew around you.

"let's get the fuck off this island, yeah?" rafe grinned.

the smell of salt water filled your nostrils as the wind blew your hair. you jumped off the truck, rafe following you as you ran down the port and onto the dock.

"that's yours?" you asked, watching rafe hop on a yacht as he began to untie it.

"been with them damn pogues for too long, you forgot luxury, baby."

the pogues, your friends.

your stomach suddenly twisted at the thought of leaving without them.

"rafe."

your serious tone made him look up at you, his eyebrows scrunched as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. the hot sun beat down on you two.

"i can't leave them."

your voice cracked as your mood switch. rafe's reaction made you nervous, not knowing what he was going to do.

"i'm not letting them on this damn boat, y/n."

"then i guess i'm not coming with you."

rafe ran a hand down his face as your heart pounded.

"get on the fucking boat, y/n."

"i-i can't. not without them."

your lip quivered as rafe approached you, his hand coming to rest on your jaw, giving you flashbacks to last night at the suite in singh's.

a tear rolled down your cheek as you sniffled, hating yourself for getting emotional. it seemed to be as rafe was fighting an internal battle.

"they're trying to save me as we speak, rafe. how would they feel if i just left them to die?"

"why do you have to be a good person?" rafe's question was rhetorical as he sighed.

"they're not going to get on a ship with me, y/n."

"then let me call them and tell them to get the hell off the island."

rafe stared down at you, unsure of what to do. but the desperate look in your eyes made his guard break, and he despised himself for being so whipped for you.

"there's a phone on the boat."

you kissed his cheek, running up to the helm as you dialed john b's phone number.

the phone rang for a bit before it went to voice mail.

"fuck! rafe, what was the number that called singh?"

you looked at the man as he finished untying the boat, now joining you on the top deck of the boat.

"you expect me to remember that shit?"

"it was like four two seven," you racked your brain for anything that seemed like a phone number.

"four two seven, six eight three." rafe remembered some more digits.

"four two seven, six eight three, nine one zero two!" you grinned as you remembered, dialing the number into the phone.

"hello singh." you heard jj's voice as he pretended to be portis.

"jj!" you said, hearing him gasp as he called the pogues around the phone.

"y/n?! are you okay?" they questioned you as rafe began guiding the boat out of the dock.

"listen, i'm okay, but i need you guys to find a way off the island."

"y/n? are you safe?"

"i'm safe. listen, get off the island, i'll meet you back at kildare!"

their voices began to break up before the line ended and you were left with rafe.

you sat down on rafe's lap as he sat at the helm. his hand rubbed your back, the feeling giving him deja vu to when you would join him and his family out on their yacht.

"we did it, baby."

you didn't respond, just holding onto his neck as you cuddled into him, a guilty feeling residing in yourself.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Before I Go

Note: I had no intention of writing anything today, as my insecurities are high again lately, but before I knew it this was written and I don't hate it? Anyway, I guess this explains that messy hair he had at the start of Seven Kings Must Die. (Chapter two is here)

Warnings: 18+! some angst/fluff/suggestive/light smut.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Your husband had to leave unexpectedly.

wordcount: 1,8k 

Masterlist

You felt your husband's rough and warm hands on your skin, gently holding your face and carefully wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes, even though you had tried so hard to hold those back.

'Don't cry,' Sihtric whispered, a pained look set on his face, 'please, don't.'

'When?'

'In a few hours.'

'And when will you be back?' you sniffled and looked up at him, meeting his teared up mismatched eyes.

'Soon,' he promised and kissed your forehead.

'How soon?'

'Very soon. I'll be gone for only a few days, my love.'

Sihtric wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, holding you tightly in his embrace after having told you that he had to leave Dunholm and travel to Bebbanburg. The grave news that King Edward had died had only just reached you, and Lady Eadgifu and her youngest son, Edmund, were already fleeing to Bebbanburg after the death of her husband. And your own husband was being dragged into potential danger by escorting them to Uhtred, along with Aldhelm. You had been living in peace in Dunholm with Sihtric for a while already, and the former warrior had retired from war years ago. You had gotten so used to having him around day and night while living in peace, and you wouldn't want it any other way. But now that a king had died you knew the peace you had tasted would soon be over, and you also knew that if a war would happen, your husband would be present in the battle at the front line, behind his shield. And that thought was simply unbearable and one you never hoped to have again.

'You know bad things are going to happen when the news spreads,' you whispered, frightened, 'I don't want you to fight, Sihtric.'

Your husband hushed you, and you pulled out of his embrace to look up at him. Sihtric looked torn. Torn between wanting to protect the lands and its people if a war would erupt, and torn between wanting to stay with you and protect you, because he knew losing you would be something he would never be able to recover from. He looked down into your eyes with his lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowed, and his hair loose and slightly pushed back.

'I don't want you to fight,' you urged, 'I don't want to lose you.'

'Darling,' Sihtric shook his head lightly and cupped your cheeks again, 'I know. But now is not the time to talk about this. We can't stop a war from happening-'

'But you don't have to get involved,' you hissed through your tears and punched his chest, 'you don't have to escort the Lady Eadgifu to Bebbanburg and become a target!'

'My love-'

'No!' you interrupted with a sob and another punch landed on his fur covered chest, but it did not phase your husband, 'I don't want you to go. You have fought in enough battles when you were younger, you have done your duty! Enough is enough, Sihtric! You are not a young boy anymore, you are a husband! My husband! And I need you here, with me!'

You looked at him with anger and despair in your eyes, feeling hopeless, and you wanted to slap his face to snap him out of the battle mode he was already slipping into. You could see it in his eyes and you could just feel it in his touch. You knew he was going to battle when it would come, and you hated him for it. You despised him for it. But you loved him more than you could ever hate him and his thirst for blood and violence, so instead of slapping him you fell into his arms again and cried as he held you.

'I will return to you-'

'When?' you snapped and pulled away again, 'when will you return? Because we all know how this goes. Uhtred will ask you for help, and you just can't say no,' you said, resentment clear in your voice.

'I-,' Sihtric tried again, but you didn't give him room.

'It is never just a few days, not with Uhtred!' you continued to spit, 'and you know it too, so don't tell me-'

'Listen to me!' Sihtric suddenly raised his voice and cornered you, your back pressed up against the wall while he towered over you, his breath feelable on your skin, 'listen to me,' he lowered his voice again and spoke calmly, 'I will return to you, soon. Even if Uhtred needs my help, I promise you that I will come back before anything happens. I will come back for you first. I will come back to you before I go to battle, always.'

A deafening silence filled the dimly lit kitchen you were in, the candle flames' sizzling almost hearable while you and Sihtric stared at each other with a mixture of pain, fear, love and passion. You calmed yourself before you wanted to speak again, knowing that your husband would do whatever it takes to return to you, but that didn't make your worries any less and the thought of never seeing him again after tonight was overwhelming.

'I will come back before I go to battle,' your husband insisted, as if he could read your mind.

'But what if you won't?' you sniffed, your jaw clenched as you looked into his eyes.

Sihtric sighed and took your face, leaning his forehead against yours and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

'What if you won't?' your voice trembled as you whispered your question again, your hands grabbing onto the neck of his tunic, keeping him close, 'Sihtric?'

Your husband exhaled slowly and sharply, then swallowed hard before he parted his lips to speak.

'Then it means I'm dead,' he said, his voice deprived of emotion.

'Sihtric-'

'You know that too,' his hands found your waist, grabbing you needily, 'you know-'

'Don't,' you begged, 'don't say that.'

'You know…,' Sihtric said sternly, his tattooed fingers digging into your dress as he held your waist in a bruising grip, baring his teeth at you for a split second before he bit down on his lip, '... you know I'm dead if I don't come back for you,' he took a step back and pulled you away from the wall, pulling you with him towards the dark wooden table in the centre of the room, 'you know I'm dead if I don't come back for my wife,' he almost snarled, baring his teeth again and he lifted you up on the table, 'but I'm not leaving my wife just yet.'

Sihtric trailed his hands down your figure, to your legs, pushing up your skirt and sneaking his hands underneath the fabric, feeling your skin and squeezing your thighs while he parted your legs with a quick push of his knee. He then brought his hands to your knees, wrapping underneath them and he pulled you up to him with one swift move, placing himself between your thighs. Your lips parted as a sharp gasp escaped you, his strength never failing to impress you, and he used the moment to capture you in a passionate kiss with his tongue gaining immediate access into your mouth.

Your hands moved up his clothed arms, over his shoulders, his neck and up into his long hair. You gave his locks a firm tug, which earned you a strangled moan from your husband as well as a firm slap to your buttocks. You couldn't help but giggle at the punishment, to which your husband chuckled darkly and then smacked his lips as he leaned slightly back to look at you. He took your hands, guiding them down to the leather belt around his waist while he bit down on his lip as he smirked, his eyes hooded and dazed. A light blush coloured both you and your husband's cheeks as you undid his belt, even after all these years the passion and playfulness had never left your marriage, and you would forever remain excited youngsters when it would come to intimacy.

'Good wife,' Sihtric hummed after you had dropped the leather belt on the floor, and he took your face to kiss you deeply again.

You got lost in his kiss, your hands hastily searching for the hemline of his tunic, which you pushed upwards once you got a hold of it. You snuck your hands underneath the layers, feeling his warm thighs while he began to kiss you sloppily, his hands tangled in your hair and his tongue down your throat. You grabbed his bare buttocks, giving him a playful squeeze to which you both chuckled against each other's lips, before you took his hardened member and worked him by hand with teasingly slow strokes, feeling his pre-fluid coating your fingers. Your husband's breath became heavier, needing air and breaking the kiss, only to drag his lips and tongue down your neck to lean his forehead onto your shoulder as he tried to bite back a moan.

'I love you,' Sihtric groaned against your neck, then planted his lips on your skin in another attempt to stay quiet, leaving visible love bites as he did.

'I love you too,' you breathed, one hand grabbing onto his wild hair as you continued to please him and prepare him, 'just come back to me,' you whispered in his ear, 'promise me you'll come back to me, Siht.'

'I'm coming back to you,' your husband gasped, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist while he slowly bucked his hips into your hand, 'I promise,' he peppered your neck with wet kisses, 'I promise, my wife, I swear it.'

Sihtric then moved his hand down to yours and took it, gently placing your hand back on the table and lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

'Tell me again,' Sihtric said out of breath and brought his lips back to yours, 'tell me you love me.'

'I love you,' you murmured against his lips, 'forever.'

'Forever,' Sihtric breathed, his eyes closed and his lips parted.

And a sigh of relief and pleasure sounded from you both as he pushed himself inside, making slow and deep love to you until you were both left satisfied, after which he wrapped you in his arms and laid you down with him on the kitchen floor, only moments before he had to depart, leaving soft kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could reach.

'I love you,' you whispered and sweetly kissed the tip of his nose while you traced the scars on his face, wondering how many new ones he would return with.

'Tell me once more,' Sihtric whispered, pleading as he looked into your eyes, 'before I go.'

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