#I remember driving my mom's car to work after dropping her off along the way and cranking up the radio.

[averbaldumpingground]

Life almost disappears, those summer afternoons spent reading in the park, your head half-leaning on his shoulder. Those mornings in the spring, a little late for work.

It didn't matter then, the way he took two sugars in his coffee. The way you let your hair grow out too long.

But these, the memories we keep, crammed in a shoebox full of polaroids, saved somewhere on a half-forgotten hard drive, they're what remains behind. They're what your sister finds, the weekend that she helps you pack your life.

And then it's sitting on the couch, your kitchen stuff already wrapped in paper. It's styrofoam containers, soda cans. It's wine that she's already drinking from the bottle.

And you can't figure out whose silhouette that was, who showed up to your party with a boa. And she is pretty sure her ex has kids.

But maybe that's why you and I keep postcards. Somebody's bow tie, paperclips, that bit of string.

They don't remind us of some other time, exactly. They're pieces of the people that we were, they're feelings that we'd wanted to hold on to.

#June 12 2023 #I've had 'Spin' by Lifehouse stuck in my head all day. #Is it about some girl? Is it about god? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Who the heck even knows. #I mean that's like a very large percentage of Lifehouse's musical output. #Well this one could also be about parenthood I guess. #And I'm pretty sure 'You and Me' is definitely about Jason Wade's wife and 'Hanging by a Moment' is about god per comments he's made. #But it's a fun party game isn't it? #Speaking of 'Hanging by a Moment'. Even though it came out when I was like 12 and I hadn't yet realized the whole religious thing. #I associate it most with the summer I was 25 and living with my parents for the summer for a grad school internship. #I remember driving my mom's car to work after dropping her off along the way and cranking up the radio. #Unfortunately my options were limited to the pop station (too many commercials) or the Spanish station (I don't speak Spanish) #or the Christian rock station (the one I usually listened to despite my uncomfortable relationship with religion especially at the time). #And the first time I heard them play Lifehouse I was like wtf? Why is the Christian rock station playing something I actually like? #And then I really listened to the words of 'Hanging by a Moment' and I was 'Oooooh.' #And that was how it took me like 13 years to realize a band I liked and owned cds of may or may not have written a bunch of songs about god #Which honestly would have turned 12 year old me off a lot because like it's not fun being an atheist when almost everyone's a dick about it #And I'm not sure it was the healthiest coping mechanism for the whole having my heart shattered by a religious dude when I was 25... #Actually that's not true. That year I mostly played the fuck out of Emmylou Harris's and Bob Dylan's most depressing hits. ('Gold' anyone?) #Followed by Royal Wood's divorce album when that came out. #But blasting the Christian rock station in the car? Definitely kind of intentionally masochistic. But also I really hate radio commercials. #I did listen to a lot of Lifehouse that summer. #So regardless of what the songs are actually about they all remind me of the highway and my mom's old car and carpooling to work. #Except 'Blind'. 'Blind' still makes me cry. #That was a really pointless aside because I don't feel like writing or going to sleep and will probably stay up listening to Lifehouse now. #I guess the moral of that story if it needs to have a moral is: #If you're a godless heathen and someone makes you feel like shit because they act like there's something wrong with you for it #you're much better off not wasting your time trying to understand why they think like that and living your best heathen life instead. #Or something like that. Idk.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest (Part 7) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 5.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Parental Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles; Crying; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: In the few days before the mission, Nickie has important conversations with his mom, his grandfather, and maybe even his estranged father.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Epilogue

Master List

It was the day after Ice’s funeral and somehow the Mitchells had to go back to normal. Maverick reported for duty early, Cora went back to work as usual, and Nickie stayed late at school to make up some of the work that he missed. But it wasn’t back to normal. Not really.

Walking out of school, Nickie looked up to see his mom’s car roll around the corner of the school. A bit nervously, Nickie made his way over. They hadn’t talked last night about much of anything. Everyone sort of went in their separate directions and stewed in their own thoughts. And Nickie knew that his mom and his grandfather saw the wings that he pinned to his jacket.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cora greeted him with a small smile. “How was school?”

“Long,” Nickie replied quietly, sinking into his seat. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Cora stated as she put the car in drive.

They stared heading home, though Cora got tenser and tenser with every mile. Gripping the steering wheel tighter than normal, Cora stared at the stop light in front of them, before quickly putting her turn signal on and making a right. Nickie looked over at his mom with clear confusion, since this wasn’t the direction home. But Cora continued driving.

“Where are we going?” Nickie asked his mom, who shot him a small smile in return.

“You’ll see.”

Nickie leaned back in his seat, still confused, but trusting his mom. Cora eventually pulled down a winding road that ended in a parking lot. They could see the naval ships in the harbor and the planes overhead reminded Nickie that base wasn’t very far.

Wordlessly, Cora turned off the car and stepped out, causing Nickie to do the same. Cora walked down the path, made her way down to a bench, and sat down on the worn wood. She patted the spot next to her and Nickie sat down without much of a fuss, though he felt a rock settle in his stomach when he caught his mom’s expression.

“Mom, I can explain . . .” Nickie started off softly.

“Do you remember all the times that I would bring you out here when you were little to watch the ships?” Cora asked, staring over at the ships docked in port. “You would just sit out here for hours, endlessly entertained.”

“Mom?” Nickie asked, looking over at her with some concern.

“Or all of the times that your grandfather brought you to the museum in town? He had to run after you once because you wanted to touch the plane and you just slipped under the ropes,” Cora mused, smiling at the memories. “You know, I think if your grandfather’s face wasn’t in some of those photos in the museum, the security guard would have been a lot meaner to him.”

“Mom?” Nickie repeated, softer this time.

Sobering, Cora took a breath before turning to her son. Nickie could see a thin layer of tears in her eyes, but didn’t comment on it. Mostly because he could feel some building behind his own eyes. Cora smiled painfully and cupped her son’s cheek, rubbing her thumb along his skin.

“What I’m trying to say, Nickie, is that part of me always knew that you could someday end up in the Navy,” Cora began, dropping her hand down to grab Nickie’s hand and give it a squeeze. “I mean, all of your father figures were aviators. You grew up in a Navy town. Your grandfather always brought you to the airshows and told you all about his stories.”

She dropped her head for a moment, trying to compose herself. Biting the inside of her cheek, Cora turned back to Nickie with a small smile.

“I know that you probably think that I’m going to tell you that you can’t go. But I’m not.”

“Really?” Nickie asked, sounding shocked. “But, Mom, you wouldn’t even let me on a trampoline growing up.”

“And I stick by that,” Cora stated firmly. “Do you know how many kids come in with broken bones—never mind. That’s not why I brought you here.” Composing herself, Cora let out a breath and turned back to her son. “Answer a few questions for me, Nickie. Do you want to go into the Navy?”

“Yes,” Nickie replied quietly, without much confidence in his mom’s presence.

“More than you want any other career path?”

“Yes,” Nickie returned with more confidence than before.

“And will going into the Navy make you happy?”

“I think so.”

“And do you have a backup plan in case you can’t become a naval aviator for whatever reason?”

“Well, I know that I want to do something mechanical. I mean, Gramps had me working on cars and bikes for my entire life . . . it’s what I know. It’s what I feel comfortable with and what I want to do,” Nickie explained, causing Cora to nod slowly. Nickie scooched a little closer to his mom, still surprised at her words. “You’re really okay with me going into the Navy?”

“In all honesty, I’m not thrilled, Nickie,” Cora stated, causing Nickie’s expression to fall a bit. “If I had it my way, you would go into business or something where the most dangerous part of your day was getting to and from work.”

Cora’s gaze softened again when Nickie turned away from her, a bit shy. Grabbing Nickie’s chin gently and tilting it up so that Nickie locked eyes with her again, Cora smiled.

“But it’s not my life, Nickie. It’s yours. And I can’t—I don’t want to be that parent who stands in the way of their child’s dreams because they’re too scared of what could happen or they’re too afraid to let go. I don’t want to be that kind of mom.”

Turning to face her son fully, Cora grabbed his hands and gave them a squeeze.

“All I have ever wanted for you, Nickie, was for you to be happy. For you to not have to worry about the things that I had to worry about when I was your age. I wanted you to be able to live your life without my past or your grandfather’s past or . . . anyone else’s past holding you back.”

“Like how it happened for Bradley?” Nickie asked, causing Cora to pause for a moment.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “Like that.”

Cora slowly turned to look at the back of the bench. Nickie followed his mom’s gaze and paused when he noticed the plaque in the middle of the wood. It was small and not very noticeable, but there was a plaque that read a simple message:

In memory of LTJG Nicholas “Goose” Bradshaw

“That’s the thing about becoming a parent. You look back at your childhood and you try to make choices to give your kids an easier life than the one you had. But sometimes you overcorrect. And sometimes you didn’t see the problem in the first place until it smacks you in the face all over again.”

“Mom, planes have come a long way since 1986,” Nickie pointed out, causing Cora to turn back to him. “Safety wise.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I wasn’t talking about that.” Looking down at her lap for a moment, Cora took a breath. “Your father. Bradley. He always felt like he had to prove himself to the memory of his dad. And he made a lot of decisions trying to impress someone who was gone and who would have loved him regardless of any of those choices.”

Cora stared into her son’s eyes as she squeezed his hands.

“And I want to make sure that if you go into the Navy, you’re doing it for yourself. Not for Maverick. Not for Ice. Not for me . . . and definitely not to prove anything to Rooster.” Cora held her son’s gaze for a moment before adding, “I want you to do it for yourself, Nickie. Do you understand me?”

“I do, Mom.”

“Good.”

With a watery gaze, Cora pulled her son in for a hug that he quickly returned. Latching onto his mom like he was a little kid again, Nickie let a few tears dribble down from his eyes and onto her scrubs. Cora rocked her son back and forth, holding a hand to the back of his head like she did when he was a baby and she was trying to soothe him in the middle of the night.

“I thought that you’d be mad,” Nickie whispered out shakily, causing Cora to shake her head. “Or disappointed in me.”

“Nickie, I could never be disappointed in you,” Cora stated, squeezing him tighter. “You’re my baby. And you’re smart, you’re kind. You’re the kid who always got praise from all of his teachers for standing up for other kids and inviting everyone to play.” Letting out a choked sound herself, Cora tugged him closer. “I’m so proud of you, Nickie. And I’ll always be proud of you. And if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about this, I’m sorry, Nickie. I’m so sorry.”

“I know that you just wanted me to be safe, Mom,” Nickie croaked out emotionally.

“You’re a Mitchell. We’re not the safest bunch,” Cora blurted out, causing Nickie to laugh with her. Pulling back from the hug, Cora wiped Nickie’s tears away with her hand. “I love you, Nickie. Okay? And nothing will ever change that.”

“I know, Mom. I love you too.”

~~~~~

“I told you that you were worrying over nothing,” Amelia told Nickie as they sat out in the backyard of the Benjamin house.

“I know,” Nickie replied, shooting Amelia a small smile. “I should probably listen to you more often.”

“At least you realize it.” They sat side by side, watching the waves crash before Amelia slowly turned back to Nickie with a more serious expression. “Do you know when they ship out?”

“Any day now, I would assume,” Nickie stated, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll probably only know the night before.”

“Have you talked to Mav yet about the Navy?”

“No, but I will. Before he leaves,” Nickie answered, nodding to himself.

“Are you going to try to talk to . . .” Amelia trailed off, causing Nickie to look at the ground.

“I don’t know,” Nickie replied honestly. “I feel like I should, but . . . he’s still the bastard who abandoned us. Should I really give him a chance?”

“I don’t know,” Amelia stated, shrugging her shoulders. Turning to look out over the waves, Amelia gripped the edge of the bench. “I know that I stopped giving my dad chances a long time ago.” She slowly looked over at Nickie, who was still staring at the ground. “But knowing you, you’re going to beat yourself up if something happens on this mission and you never talked to him.”

“And what if nothing happens and I gave him a chance that he didn’t deserve?”

“Then you can tell him to fuck off when he gets back,” Amelia replied bluntly. Turning back to Nickie, Amelia shoved him lightly on the shoulder. “Isn’t the whole Mitchell mantra about not thinking? Why are you overthinking this? Do you want to talk to him or not?”

“I want answers,” Nickie stated quietly, causing Amelia to nod.

“And where are you going to get them?”

“Him,” Nickie added lamely. Letting out a groan, Nickie rubbed his face tiredly. “Goddammit.”

~~~~~

After the orders were given that they would be shipping out the following morning, the Daggers seemed to scatter to the wind. Those with families spent their last night on FaceTime or in town with them. Some just wanted their solitude and peace to center themselves.

And Rooster didn’t have a plan. He was just going to wander, quite honestly. Until life moved in a direction for him.

“Rooster,” Hondo called, causing Rooster to slow and turn to face the warrant officer.

Holding out a piece of paper, Hondo stared Rooster down and motioned for him to take the paper. Rooster tentatively reached out and took it to find a location and time written down.

“It’s top-secret correspondence,” Hondo stated, causing Rooster to turn back to him.

“From who?”

“An unnamed source,” Hondo replied stiffly. “Just . . . don’t fuck it up.”

And without another word, Hondo turned on his heel and walked off, leaving Rooster standing there with just a piece of paper in his hand. Staring down at it again, Rooster slowly folded it up and tucked it into the pocket of his flight suit before heading for the locker room. He had a guess as to who would try to get a message to him through Hondo.

And he desperately wanted to speak with her.

~~~~~

Pulling into the lot just down the beach from the Hard Deck, Rooster turned off his car and stepped out into the warm Miramar air. Dressed in his civilian clothes, Rooster looked around for Cora, but the figure who got out of their car and turned to him was too tall to be Cora.

It was Nickie, Rooster realized, after the teenager stepped forward.

The father and son stood several feet apart, neither seemingly wanting to make the first move. Bradley was still in shock that Nickie wanted to even look at him and Nickie was still summoning all of his courage to ask the questions that had been hammering around in his head for his entire life.

“You came,” was what Nickie started off with.

“I did,” Rooster replied quietly, shutting the door to his car. Looking up and down the landscape, Rooster turned back to Nickie. “Does your mom know that you’re here?”

“No,” Nickie stated honestly. He tilted his chin up a bit, almost challenging Rooster. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Rooster replied, shaking his head.

Nickie stared up at Rooster for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists as he shifted his weight around on his feet. Letting out a breath, Nickie turned back to his father with a hardened expression that made Rooster more than a little nervous.

“Why did you never come back? Why did you never read any of her letters?” Nickie demanded with his voice thick with emotion. “Why the hell did you turn your back on my mom and never look back? What the hell did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” Rooster stated after a few moments of silence.

“Then why did you do it?” Nickie hissed, glaring over at Rooster.

“Because I was . . . am an idiot,” Rooster replied quietly, knowing that excuses weren’t going to do him any good here. Looking down at the ground for a moment, Rooster tried to find the right words. “And I . . . I was worried that she would slam the door in my face if I showed up again.”

“So, you just did it to her then?” Nickie scoffed, his jaw ticking with thinly veiled annoyance. Shaking his head as the anger simmered in his stomach, Nickie took a step closer to Rooster. “Do you have any idea of what you put her through? Do you think it was easy for her to raise me as a single mom? Do you think that she wanted that?”

“No,” Rooster returned, shaking his head calmly. Clearing his throat, Rooster rubbed the back of his neck. “My mom . . . your grandmother . . . she was a single mom for most of my life. I know it’s not easy. I know it’s not the life that most people choose to have.”

“That makes it worse,” Nickie scoffed, shooting Rooster a sharper glare.

“Do you know about her? About . . . your grandmother?” Rooster asked quietly after a few moments, causing Nickie to pause with the change in conversation.  

“Of course, I do. The only person that my mom ever hid from me was you,” Nickie all but snapped, causing Rooster to wince. Letting out a breath from his nose, Nickie looked at the ground as some of the anger left his body. Kicking a rock, Nickie kept his gaze down and his voice level. “I grew up on her recipes. On . . . my grandmother’s recipes.”

“Even the birthday surprise cake?” Bradley questioned emotionally.

“Every year,” Nickie returned, some more anger leaving his system. “Until I was like thirteen.”

“She used to make those cakes for your mom and for me. For our birthdays,” Bradley replied, sounding like he was talking more to himself than Nickie for a moment. Bradley stared down at the ground, taking a breath to calm himself down. “You know, I was about your age when . . . when she died.”

“My mom told me,” Nickie responded softly, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Ice had only been gone for a few days and sometimes Nickie had to remind himself that he was never going to get a text from Ice asking for him to come over. Not anymore. Turning back to his dad, Nickie set his jaw and let out a quiet sniffle.

“Fuck cancer,” Nickie stated, causing Rooster to pick his head up.

“Fuck cancer,” Rooster returned, nodding firmly. He looked out over at the waves over Nickie’s shoulder for a moment, leaning back against the Bronco for support. “You know, if she was still here, she would have been the grandmother to never leave you alone. The kind to make sure that you left her house five pounds heavier than you came. She’d go to all your sports games and events. Hell, she probably would have driven your mom just a little crazy, sticking around so much.”

And for a moment, though he couldn’t believe it, Nickie was sympathizing with Rooster. He actually felt bad for the guy. Because for the three seconds that he put himself into Bradley’s shoes—losing his mom at sixteen—Nickie barely survived it without bursting into uncontrolled sobs.

He loved his mom. He’d do anything for his mom. He was a mama’s boy. And he couldn’t picture his life without his mom.

Coming out of the emotional fog, Rooster turned and opened the door to the Bronco, causing Nickie to pick his head up. Rifling around in the glove compartment, Rooster pulled out a simple gold chain. It was a necklace that his mom used to wear all the time that he kept close to him to remember her. And the simple ‘B’ that hung from the chain was still there all these years later.

“This was hers,” Rooster explained, holding it out to Nickie.

A bit cautious, Nickie walked over and slowly took the necklace from Rooster’s outstretched hand. Studying the chain, Nickie glanced down at the ‘B’ pendant before looking back up at Rooster, who seemed to be waiting expectantly for him to speak.

“Is the ‘B’ for Bradley?”

“It’s for Bradshaw,” Rooster replied softly, smiling a bit painfully. “My dad . . . your grandfather . . . he gave it to her when they first started dating.” Rooster shoved his hands into his pockets, just watching Nickie study the necklace for a moment. “Less than two years later, I was born.”

“My mom showed me the pictures of their wedding,” Nickie returned, rubbing the metal with his thumb. “I guess that young, unplanned pregnancies just run in my family.”

“Both sides,” Rooster agreed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Try to break that streak. Please.”

“Gramps already gave me the shovel talk about it about fifteen times over,” Nickie replied with a dash of amusement in his tone. “And my mom too.”

Running his thumb over the thin gold chain again, Nickie picked up his head and held out the necklace for Bradley to take back. But Bradley shook his head and held up a hand to stop him.

“Keep it.”

Nickie looked a bit taken aback for a moment before he glanced down at the chain in his hand. Slowly wrapping it around his wrist to keep it safe, Nickie turned back to Bradley.

“You know, we’re never going to have a relationship unless you make it up to my mom,” Nickie stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“I know. I understand that,” Rooster replied, nodding along to show that he understood. “I would have been the same way.” Rooster looked away for a moment before turning back to Nickie. “You know, I suggested it to your mom but . . . my mom left me some money. And I know that you’re going to college soon and everything—”

“—I don’t need it,” Nickie interjected, knowing where Bradley was going with it.

“College is expensive and I’m sure that you’re smart but—”

“—I don’t need it,” Nickie repeated, a bit more firmly.

“Are you not going to college?” Rooster asked, trying not to frown but failing anyways.

“No, I’m going to college,” Nickie sassed back, straightening up under Rooster’s frown. “I just don’t want to go to a . . . traditional college."

"Traditional . . ." Rooster trailed off, confused for a moment, before it finally clicked in his mind. Staring at Nickie incredulously, Rooster tried to put his words together despite his shock. “You . . . you want to be a . . . a naval aviator?”

“If they’ll take me,” Nickie replied, nodding firmly.

“Does your mom know?” Bradley asked, causing Nickie to grow a bit defensive.

“Yes.”

“Does Mav know?”

“. . . Yes,” Nickie lied straight through his teeth, causing Rooster to sigh and rub his face.

Well, Nickie got Cora’s inability to lie, that was for sure. He even shrugged his shoulders the same way that Cora did when she tried to lie.

Shifting his weight on his feet, Nickie turned back to Rooster with a slightly skittish appearance. That fear that he had carried around for months, ever since he decided that he really did want to go on and be a naval aviator, crept up again. And even though he talked it out with his mom, he hadn’t yet managed to find the courage to talk to his grandfather about it.

“Did he . . . did he really pull your papers?”

“Yeah, he did,” Bradley sighed, turning back to his son.

Nickie nodded and looked away, his shifting stature giving away how nervous he was feeling. Rooster took in Nickie’s anxiety and swallowed his pride and about sixteen years’ worth of resentment against Maverick before he cleared his throat. Nickie turned back to him, clearly apprehensive, but curious to hear what he had to say nonetheless.

“Mav told me that he regretted it. Of course, that doesn’t change what’s happened . . .” Rooster trailed off, letting a breath out from his nose. Nickie looked up at Rooster, waiting for him to finish his thought. “But it changes what’ll happen down the line.”

Nickie nodded slowly, looking down at the ground again. Staring at his grandmother’s necklace, Nickie turned back to Rooster. He straightened up, trying to look bigger, but he was really just a bean pole at his age, like Bradley was.

“When you get back . . . we can talk. After you apologize to my mom. And my grandfather too.”

Rooster nodded to show that he agreed with Nickie’s terms before Nickie slowly backed up and slipped into his car. Rooster watched Nickie drive off into the night before slowly slipping into his own car. Staring at the steering wheel for a moment, Rooster slowly lowered his head into his hands and let a few tears loose.

~~~~~

Nickie walked around back, having rolled into the driveway sneakily to avoid his mom or grandfather seeing him. Climbing up the side of the house, Nickie reached his window that he left cracked open. Pushing it up more, Nickie started to shimmy into his bedroom when he spotted his grandfather sitting on his bed with an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Hey, Gramps,” Nickie laughed off, trying to appear casual, though him stumbling in through his window definitely didn’t help that. “Just dropped something and thought that it was easier to go out the window than . . .” Nickie trailed off for a moment when he caught his grandfather’s expression. “Is there any excuse that I could use that you would believe?”

“Where did you go?” Maverick asked, getting to the point.

“Uh . . .”

“What’s on your wrist?” Maverick asked, pointing at Nickie’s left wrist.

“Nothing, just a—”

“—Is that Carole’s?” Maverick interjected, easily recognizing the piece of jewelry. Slowly turning to look up at Nickie, Maverick slowly stood up from his bed. “You went to see Bradley?”

“Yeah . . . I did,” Nickie agreed, nodding slowly, staring down at the necklace. “He gave it to me.”

“And . . . how did the rest of your talk go?” Maverick questioned, concerned.

“Well, I didn’t tell him to ‘fuck off’,” Nickie reported, causing Maverick to sigh. “We talked. Mostly about Carole, actually.”

“Bradley was a mama’s boy,” Maverick recounted, nodding sadly. “Not unlike you.”

Nickie nodded as well, staring down at the chain on his wrist for a moment. Slowly unclipping it, he unwrapped the necklace carefully. Nickie reached for the gum tin that he got from Ice and slowly opened it, setting the necklace inside with Goose’s dog tags and Ice’s wings. But the action only reminded him of the conversation he was trying to avoid with his grandfather.

“Your mom told me,” Maverick stated, causing Nickie to turn to him quickly. “Well, she didn’t fully tell me. I just asked her why she looked like she had been crying for a while and put the pieces together from there.”

“She doesn’t want me to go into the Navy,” Nickie replied softly.

“No, she doesn’t. But she doesn’t want to stand in the way of your dreams more,” Maverick returned without a second thought.

Nickie nodded and set the gum tin on his nightstand again. Maverick studied Nickie’s expression for a moment before looking over at the pictures that Nickie had hung up. The one of Goose and Carole caught his eye before he turned back to his grandson, the boy that he practically raised as his own son, as he had done with Nickie’s own father before him.

“And neither do I, Nickie.”

Nickie whipped around to face his grandfather, still a bit apprehensive, though there was that hope budding behind his brown eyes. Maverick managed a smile and nodded to show that he wasn’t lying, which caused Nickie to turn around completely.

“You’re not just saying that because you want me to feel better, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Maverick stated, a bit more firmly. “Though, I do want to be honest with you, Nickie.”

Maverick motioned for Nickie to sit down on the edge of his bed and the two Mitchells sat together for perhaps the final time. Maverick turned to Nickie with a serious expression.

“The whole process . . . it’s not sunshine and daises. And I’m sure that you have your eye on the Academy, and I don’t fault you for that. But I want you to prepare for the reality that politics plays a bigger role in the process than anyone wants to talk about. They kept me out of the Academy because of my dad. And, honestly, I’m worried that they’ll keep you out because of me.”

“I know,” Nickie replied quietly. “Ice warned me.”

“Of course, he did,” Maverick sighed, rubbing his chin.

“I looked into other options. If I can’t get into the Academy, I’ll just try NROTC or OCS. I could even stay in San Diego if I really wanted to do that,” Nickie stated, causing Maverick to nod. “And I mean, even if I can’t become an aviator, I’ll just do my time, get my college degree paid for, and figure it out from there. Maybe I’d become a civilian pilot like you tried to push me to do.”

“Well, you’re a Mitchell. Being in the sky . . . that’s your birth right one way or another,” Maverick stated, smiling a bit painfully. “But I am really glad that you thought through this a bit more. I didn’t want you to get stuck like . . . like Bradley.”

“Why did you pull his papers anyways?” Nickie asked softly, causing Maverick to pause. “I mean, you encouraged me to fly my whole life. Maybe not for the Navy, but you had me up in planes with you since as far back as I could remember. Why would you try and stop Bradley from doing that?”

“My decisions with Bradley . . . your dad . . . I made those decisions because I thought that I was doing the right thing. I thought that I was protecting the son of my best friends. But all I did was end up pushing him away and making him think that I didn’t believe in him at all.”

Maverick looked down at the ground for a moment, before turning back to Nickie.

“And, you know, part of me mixed up Bradley and Goose in my head. And I let what happened to Goose hold Bradley back. I didn’t want him to end up like Goose because I wouldn’t have survived that. But that wasn’t fair to Bradley.” Maverick rubbed his cheek slowly. “You know, they look so damn similar that I just acted on instinct alone.”

“Goose had strong genes,” Nickie remarked, causing Maverick to laugh.

“Yes, he does. He’d be very proud of himself for it too.” Letting out another chuckle and rubbing his chin, Maverick turned back to Nickie. “You know, if he was still here, he would have been bragging to me and anyone who would listen about which side of your family you looked more like. His side, of course. God, he would have held it over my head forever.”

Nickie nodded along and looked at the photo that he hung up on the wall. One of Goose and Carole from before they were even married. They couldn’t have been much older than he was now Nickie realized with a small smidge of dread.

“I wish I got to meet them,” Nickie spoke softly, causing Maverick to slowly tear up.

“Yeah, I wish that you did too, Nickie. Every single day,” Maverick breathed out, forcing a watery smile.

“When do you ship out?” Nickie asked, trying to change the subject to avoid his own tears.

“Tomorrow morning,” Maverick stated, causing Nickie to whip around to face him.

“Tomorrow?” Nickie breathed out, his stomach immediately knotting.

“Affirmative,” Maverick stated, trying to force a smile again. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”

“I know,” Nickie stated softly, not looking entirely convinced.

Slowly, Maverick pulled Nickie in for a tight hug. Nickie returned the hug and tucked his chin against his grandfather’s shoulder. Maverick patted his curled fist against Nickie’s back, forcing himself to not give away the fact that he felt in his gut that this would be the last night that he saw his grandson. Taking a breath, Maverick released Nickie.

“Come on. Let’s join your mom downstairs.”

A.N. Final “main” part will be out either Wednesday or Thursday. And then the epilogue maybe sometime next week.

If you like AUs, don’t forget to vote on the poll that I made last week!

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus @mygyn @kmc1989 @thegoddessc @midnightmagpiemama @badasspizzalover @praline357 @oatmealisweird @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

@abaker74 @avengersfan25 @yogabigooby @daisydaisygoose @sgt-barnesveins @angelbabyange @percysaidnever @artemissunn @indiestrashfire @kidd3ath @luv4kani @lt-spork @brooke-stinson

(If I forgot you in the tags, don’t be afraid to ask again because I’m definitely scatterbrained when it comes to that but please have a reference to your age somewhere on your blog (bio, pinned post) or just message me!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Epilogue

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #rooster #top gun rooster #bradley rooster x oc #rooster x oc #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #top gun fandom

[callsignlucky]

talk to me, lucky (part 2)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: sooooo likeeee i was genuinely expecting like three (3) people to read this. I'm so glad you guys like it, that means the world to me, so I'll continue this little series as long as folks want me to!

This part was purely self indulgent with the goal to make a Pete Maverick Mitchell so dad shaped that it might fix my own daddy issues. (didn't work but a girl can dream.)

Also!! I am purposefully trying not to comment on physical appearance! The reader is female, but her mother is intended to remain ambiguous. There is a lack of accessible fics on this website and want I POC to be able to enjoy this as well!

<- part 1 |part 3 ->

The Hard Deck fell silent as soon as my hand made contact with his cheek. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were on us, but the only ones that mattered to me were Bradley’s.

They were as brown and as big as I remember, and he raised his hand to cup his cheek, brows knitted together in confusion as he stared at me. That only served to make me angrier, and I forced myself to take a step back before I hit him again and got myself into actual trouble. He was at a loss for words, and I was afraid if I said anything I’d reveal more of myself to the pilots to our left than I’d like. Without so much as a murmur of an insult, I turned, collected my phone and keys from the table, and made a beeline for the front door. As I was walking away, I heard Lieutenant Seresin laugh, making some quip to Bradley along the lines of what the hell was that about, Bradshaw? 

My eyes found Penny’s, who knew and understood and looked at me with sympathy before patting my dad’s arm in goodbye as he slid off his stool. That made me feel rotten. He’d been so excited to reconnect with Penny, and here I was making a scene and ruining his evening. I bet he was thanking God the last name on my flight suit was my mother’s instead of his. 

The air outside had cooled since the sun set, and I managed to speed walk down the block to where I parked my car before a hand caught my arm. I didn’t dare turn around, tears hot in my eyes, my heart still in my chest as I held my breath and waited. Much to my relief, the voice that spoke belonged to my father. 

“Why don’t you ride home with me? You’re too upset to drive.” He said softly, and I shook my head, feeling more and more like I was nine years old as the seconds passed. 

“I’ll walk.” I snipped, chest tightening with guilt at my tone. I was mad at him too, as much as I hated it. I blamed him for Bradley leaving, all those years ago, but I forgave him after a week. My father was all I had left, and I wasn’t prepared to lose him over an action he felt morally obligated to take. And Uncle Ice might have had something to do with me forgiving him so quickly. 

Dad sighed from behind me. “You can’t walk all the way back to the house.” 

“Who says I’m going back there?” My voice quivered, and even as he gently tugged on my arm I refused to turn around, arms crossed over my chest. The thought of going back to our base issued housing, that completely staged two bedroom home void of memories or light or emotion or Mom was already suffocating. Dad was quiet for a spell, probably thinking, before he inhaled sharply and spoke up. 

“Alright, how about we go to the gas station for some slurpees and drink them at the beach?” His tone was light, and I didn’t have to be looking at him to know he had one eyebrow raised with that little smirk on his face. I perked up a little, and he tossed his arms around my shoulders from behind. “How bout it, Birdie? Or are you too grown to hang out with your old man?” He shook me a little, and I rolled my eyes with a small huff, turning in his arms. He had me with my nickname and he knew it, so I mustered the best pout I could. 

“Can I get a large?” I asked, and Dad smoothed down my hair gently with a nod. 

“Of course.” He stepped back and held out his hand, waggling his fingers and his brows at the same time. I laughed and rolled my eyes, taking his hand, and together we walked to where he’d found a spot to squeeze his bike. Like all the times I’d had before, I waited until Dad had slung his leg over the bike and walked it backwards before I slid on behind him. My arms wound around his middle and I unceremoniously shoved my face into his back, and I could feel him laugh as he eased the bike into a cruise. One hand came from the handlebar and clasped over mine, and I smiled faintly into the leather of his jacket as we picked up speed down the road.

I was one of the luckiest girls alive to have Pete “Maverick” Mitchell as a father. His military career alone opened more doors for my future than would’ve ever been possible without the Navy. Beyond that, he was—in my humble opinion—the best dad ever. Growing up, my father always put me first. He never accepted a promotion that would take him away from me more than he had to be, and after mom died he accepted a position that essentially grounded him so he could stay stateside, sacrificing his love for flying in order to raise his child. 

In those years he never missed a ballet recital or softball game or debate competition, and he always made sure I went on whatever field trips my school was carting us off to. He made sure I had nice clothes and nice shoes and a reliable car and always, always made sure I knew how much he loved me. 

Pete Mitchell thought I hung the moon from the second the nurse put me in his arms, and it has been that way ever since. He acted like a loving father should and then some, because that love always translated over to Bradley, too.

It was the same with me. Ever since I learned how to talk, some adult would smile at me and ask me what my daddy did for a living, and I’d smile with all my teeth (some of them missing on occasion) and say “My daddy is a hero!”, and I meant it every single time.  I still do. 

Dad and I ended up on a slice of beach far from the prying eyes inside The Hard Deck. I abandoned my socks and boots and rolled my jeans up before plunging my painted toes—the only femininity females were allotted in the Navy—into the cooled sand. I balanced my cherry Slurpee between my knees, eyes on the moon as it reflected off the water’s surface. Dad and I sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, just listening to the waves crash in. 

“Are you mad at me? For slapping Bradley?” I asked finally, my voice quiet, lips wrapped around my straw. To my right, relaxed in the sand, my father shook his head. 

“Not angry, just confused.” He pushed around the blue raspberry slush in his cup with his straw, eyes on the horizon, like always. “I’m trying to understand why you hit him. That’s not like you, and Bradley’s the last person I’d expect you to be violent with. When I saw your pictures next to one another in the debrief, I thought you’d be excited to see him again.” 

Guilt hit me like the waves I was staring at. “I was, when I found out B and I both got pulled for this deployment. I was even more excited when I found out you were coming too, but that wore off pretty quickly when I remembered Bradley hasn’t spoken to either of us in years.” I set my cup down and leaned forward, hugging my arms around my thighs and watching my toes wiggle free of the sand before burying them again. “He abandoned us. We’re his family and he left, over something trivial.” 

“Have you put yourself in his shoes?” Dad asked, and upon receiving my twisted up nose and furrowed brows in response, he took another sip of his drink before setting it aside and lying back in the sand. He opened up one arm and beckoned me forward, and suddenly I was six years old again after a nightmare as I lay down and rested my head on his stomach. His hand slowly began to work through my hair, his other arm propped beneath his head. “The only memories Bradley has of his old man are ones he learned from everyone else. He knew his dad was a pilot, he knew he was a hero, and as soon as he got old enough, he decided he wanted to follow in his footsteps. That remind you of anyone?” 

I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “No.” I muttered, folding my arms, and my head bounced with my dad’s little laugh. 

“Well,” he drawled, twirling some of my hair around his finger, “it reminds me of Little Mav.” I grinned with my eyes still closed, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see. Little Mav was the nickname I had earned from my father’s fellow service men and women. I was his shadow whenever I could be, accompanying him to work with wide eyed wonder, amazed at all the things he could do. Uncle Ice had originated the nickname when he first met me at the ripe age of three, claiming I was twice the ball of energy that my father was and ten times cuter. I had him wrapped around my finger, too, which came in handy years later when my father tried to prevent me from enlisting. He never tried to pull my papers like he did with Bradley, but he did try and talk me out of it more times than I can count. Eventually he accepted the fact that I was determined to be a pilot, just like him, but was afraid my last name would set me back due to his reputation. While he was highly decorated and well respected within the Navy, the last name Mitchell tended to stiffen the spines and lock the jaws of quite a few admirals. So, thanks to our dearest Admiral Kazansky, I was able to enlist under my mother’s last name. I was grateful for it—the last thing I wanted was to be judged based on who my father was. Or worse yet, to be handed things because my old man was Maverick.

“That still doesn’t excuse what he did.” 

“Would you have stuck around if I pulled your papers and set your career back as long as I did Bradley’s? Because believe me, I wanted to.” He wasn’t kidding and I knew it because yes, he never tried to have my enlistment papers pulled, but they had caused more than a few arguments before my father (with the help of his wingman) came to terms that I was a grown adult who made my own choices. It scared the hell out of him, having me up in the air, but he wasn’t going to stand in my way and risk losing me. He’d already learned his lesson with Bradley. I lay there quietly for a long moment, feeling my throat tighten up and my eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

“He left us.” I murmured, choking out the last word and it was painful. “I…” Two words followed that, ones that I couldn’t force my mouth or my brain to conjure into reality. 

“I know.” My father whispered, smoothing his hand over the top of my head with a heavy sigh, and I was so grateful I didn’t have to say it out loud. “That’s why you have to forgive him.” 

“I don’t know how.” I whispered, sitting up when my father did and looking back at him. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that had escaped, before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“You’ll figure it out, kiddo.” With a grunt he stood, holding a hand down and using it to pull me to my feet. I stooped down and scooped up my shoes and my Slurpee, before an arm was slung around my shoulders and we headed back up the beach. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take you to your car and pay my tab at Penny’s. Don’t wanna get in any more trouble with her than I already am.”

To that I smiled wide up at him. “Ooooh, you have a crush on Penny Benjamin.” I sang teasingly. “Try not to mess it up this time, Pops.” Dad grinned down at me, a look of mock offense on his face as he placed his free hand on his chest. 

“Sometimes I think you’re Goose reincarnated.” He mused, and my smile softened. I rested my head on his shoulder, switching my things to one hand so I could wrap an arm around his middle. 

“You think he would’ve liked me? Uncle Goose?” I asked quietly, and my dad sighed with a nod, one of those bittersweet smiles on his face. 

“Oh, I happen to know for a fact that he loved you.” He squeezed my shoulder and I nodded. 

“I’ll have to apologize to him for slapping his son.” 

“If Goose is out there somewhere, I’m confident he’d agree that Bradley deserved it.”

I hummed with a slow nod, exhausted. Tomorrow was our first day at TOPGUN, and it was bound to be a big one as I faced the consequences of my action. “I hope Goose is with us. I’ll need him tomorrow.” 

“He’ll be there, Birdie.” Dad assured me quietly, and if either of us had been looking up at the night sky, we would’ve seen the shooting star that passed over our heads at my father’s promise. 

taglist! :)

@zzsloth | @boringusername | @sydneejean | @mosebypineapple | @erinswrld | @roosterschanelslut | @mirandastuckinthe80s | @mak-32 | @shrimping-for-all

love u guys frfr

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw/reader #rooster/reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #pete maverick mitchell #Pete Mitchell is dad shaped I will die on this hill #rooster top gun #rooster #top gun #top gun imagine #penny benjamin #goose top gun #nick goose bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | XVll

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: The morning after Moon's party and the first day of junior year. Things go nothing as expected...

Warnings: dojo rivalry, extreme violence, major injury, swearing, it's the school fight y'all, you know what happens

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Uh-oh, drama....

Thank you to those who already reblog and comment, I see you and I love you all for it!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

You woke up the next morning, unaware of your surroundings until you realized you were in Eli’s room. Memories of last night flooded your mind and your heart wrenched at the kiss you shared with him. Brushing your finger over your lips, you felt more pained at the lack of regret from the action.

A knock was heard at the door and you turned to find Eli, dressed for school already. He greeted you with a smile, gaze running over your freshly woken-up state. You grew self-conscious but part of you felt that he wasn’t thinking anything negative.

“My mom texted your mom you crashed here,” he explained. “She dropped your bag off and a change of clothes on her way to work so you don’t have to go,” he gestured to the overnight bag in his hand along with your backpack.

“Thanks,” you smiled, getting out of bed and running a hand over your head. 

“Seems like your ankle is feeling better,” he grinned, noticing you were walking on your own. 

“Yeah, thanks again,” you smiled before walking into the hall and grabbing the overnight bag from him. 

After brushing your teeth and getting ready in the bathroom, you walked back into his room, feeling refreshed. You found him at his desk, packing his bag before he turned to you. 

“My mom made blueberry pancakes since they’re your favorite,” he smiled, walking up to you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of her,” you cooed, turning to grab your backpack and make sure everything was packed. “I’ll probably leave the other bag here, pick it up after school,” you placed your hands on your hips.

“Sounds good,” he took a step closer. 

You felt your face heat up at the proximity. “Ready?” You nodded towards the kitchen. 

“Wait, just one thing,” he smirked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. It was instant, his other hand flying to your waist and his lips crashing on yours. 

You pressed a hand to his chest, feeling dazed as you moved your lips along his for a moment before you managed to remember what was going on. “Eli, what are you doing?” You stepped away, placing a hand to your mouth. 

Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Last night,” he trailed, brows furrowed. 

“It was one kiss,” you said, licking your lips.

“Right,” his jaw ticked, glancing down. “My mistake,” he brushed past you. 

You hated the change in his demeanor. The moment you told him off and he didn’t want to be around you anymore? You should be glad though, you needed the reminder.

If breakfast was awkward, the car ride to school was hell. 

You kept quiet but the tension of having Eli being so cold was odd, unnerving.

“Thanks again,” you fidgeted with the straps of your bag as he parked. “I guess I’ll see you around school,” you pressed your lips in a thin line.

“Yeah, see you around,” he didn’t bother to look at you as you made it out of the car.

You shrugged your backpack over your shoulders, Demetri’s frame coming into view and you cocked a brow at his shocked expression.

“Did I just see you with Eli?” Demetri asked. “Did he hurt you?” His eyes widened at your slight limp.

“No,” you blew out a breath, walking in together. “I sprained my ankle.”

“And how does this lead to him driving you to school?” He asked.

“After the party, which hey, thanks for abandoning me,” you shot him a look. “I tripped and he helped me. Since my parents weren’t home, he took me to his place,” you explained. “My mom dropped off my stuff this morning.”

“He took you to his home? Were his parents home? Y/N, read the red flags,” he emphasized with his hands.

You blew out a breath. “Demetri, really?” You cocked a brow. “He was just helping,” you shrugged.

“Did anything happen?” He glanced at you expectedly, almost as if he already knew something did.

You felt ashamed, face heating up as you thought back to last night. 

“We talked,” you shrugged. “And we kissed,” you sighed. “Just one kiss,” you felt guilty for admitting it. “You should’ve seen him, Demetri, he was himself again and I gave in, I still love him,” you dropped your head. “And this morning he kissed me thinking we got back together,” you pouted. “I've never been kissed like that before,” you emphasized.

“You have because you’ve only kissed him,” he cocked a brow at you. “But I guess I understand, it’s not easy watching him change. I’d do anything to have things be normal again,” he shrugged.

You sent him a sympathetic look, realizing he lost his best friend too. “If only he wasn’t an ass.”

“Hey, maybe someday in the future, we’ll be the three musketeers again,” he patted your shoulder. “Now, c’mon, we’re going to be late for AP Bio,” he wrapped his arm around your neck, loosely.

His change in tone lightened the mood. 

You were grateful you still had Demetri.

“Remind me why I decided to take that class again?” You asked.

“Blame your mother,” he joked, making you laugh.

~

The class announcements were sounding off through the intercom when there was a commotion going on. The announcer was struggling and you glanced at Demetri, curiosity spreading across both your features.

“Sam LaRusso, you know what you did,” Tory’s voice rang. “I’m coming for you, bitch,” she spat then feedback was heard.

The room grew in hushed whispers before everyone bolted up when the disturbance grew in the halls. 

Sending Demetri a look, you followed him, confusion all over your face until you approached a huddle, Sam and Tory facing off. 

“I saw what you did at the party, you kissed Miguel,” Tory seethed. 

Sam was speechless, glancing at a hurt Robby.

Your heart ached, not able to imagine Eli cheating on you or you on him. As much of an ass he was, you don’t think he’d ever hurt you in that way. 

Too caught up in your mind you almost missed when Tory swung first, repeatedly hitting Sam.

Your friend protected herself from the hits, trying to escape but Tory caught her, kicking her in the back. 

Sam went flying, being caught by Eli and his buddies. 

The group cackled as Eli shoved her back into the fight. 

Your heart wrenched. 

This should be stopping.

Deciding it best, you ran towards the girls much to the dismay of Demetri. You were about to grab onto Tory’s shoulder when hands squeezed your arms, pushing you against them.

“Stay out of this,” Eli gritted, grip tight before he pulled you along with him, holding you back as the fight ensued.

“Get off of me!” You batted at his arms and he listened, but he didn’t let you interfere, arm blocking your path.

Robby did though, pushing Tory against the lockers. That’s when Miguel joined in and the two boys began fighting. 

All hell broke loose.

Eli pushed you off to the side as he punched two students, screaming through the halls. You backed into the lockers, keeping yourself safe.

You watched as everyone paired off, Miyagi-Do vs. Cobra Kai. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Moon pleading for everyone to get along. Eyes widening, you hurried over, pulling her out of the way before she got body-slammed into the lockers. 

A scream escaped her as the guys hit the lockers, barely missing her.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

She nodded, backing into the crowd. 

The fights continued, Tory pushing Sam down another hall and the crowd pushed you to follow as the fight broke out at the school entrance by the stairs. 

Demetri came through the doors with a teacher but after seeing his co-worker get hurt by a student, he walked out. Then Eli caught sight of Demetri before he ran after him.

The fury in his eyes made your heart raced and you knew you needed to go after them.

Picking up your pace, you turned down the hall, losing sight of them and you weren’t sure if they had gone left or right. You shouted for Demetri, hoping you’d find him before Eli but it was hard to catch your breath, the pain radiating in your ankle was slowing you down, and panic set in.

You shouted for him again, your heart raced at the idea of what Eli would do to him. Turning back around, you bumped into someone. 

A familiar face came into view and you recognized your old friend, Rickenberger. A student of Cobra Kai. 

“You’re cute if you think I’m gonna let you get past me,” he snickered. “Your little friend deserves what Hawk will do to him, same as you,” he stared you down. 

“I’m not here to play games,” you scoffed, backing away. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

“Can’t let that happen, traitor,” he held your shoulder, stopping you. 

“So, what? You’re gonna fight me?” You sneered. “You’re insane,” you bumped shoulders with him. Your brows furrowed as you passed him but they raised in shock the moment he pushed you, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You screamed in pain, the impact hurting your ankle as you landed on the tile floor.

“You could’ve been on the right side, but no, you had to join Miyagi-Do,” he squatted down, pinning his hand to your back and kneeling on your arm to prevent you from getting up. 

“Why are you doing this?” You gritted in pain.

“Because you’re a traitor,” he spat. “You leaving Cobra Kai affected us all, we wanted to get back at you for what you did,” he gritted. 

“We?” Your heart broke at the thought that Eli would want to hurt you physically.

“Don’t get all teary-eyed, Hawk didn’t want us doing shit. Why do you think I’m taking my chance now that you’re all alone? No boyfriend to protect you,” he snickered.

His teasing sent anger to course through you and you yelled, taking him off balance, and punching him square in the face. 

He fell to the side, face touching his cheek before he spit out blood. The stare he sent you wasn’t friendly but you were already on your feet, ready for whatever he threw your way. 

Charging at you with a raised fist, you remember wax on, wax off. Ingrained in your memory you managed to block his hits, sending a powerful punch right in his chest. 

“You think Hawk’s gonna like you hurting me?” You spat, you pushed your hair out of your face. 

He chuckled. “He’s not going to know a thing.” 

Swinging his leg, he threw you off guard, landing a kick to your side.

You faltered, your weight falling on your bad ankle and you hissed in pain. The stress placed on it made your limp more noticeable compared to before. You were at a disadvantage.

He struck again, this time sending a punch right in your face. 

You flew back, clutching your nose and you saw blood. Then he threw another and another. You blocked the last, using your good leg to kick him away. As he fell back, you tasted blood and the adrenaline found its way back into your body. Standing a few feet from you, he watched you with such mockery. You began running towards him, ignoring the pain in your ankle. 

He couldn’t think before you engulfed him, using your momentum to spin him into the air and crush him to the tile. He groaned out in pain as you stood over him.

“We shouldn’t be fighting,” you heaved, that move taking it out on you. 

He stared up at you, face contorted in pain. He didn’t say anything, almost contemplating and you thought you had him but he grabbed your bad ankle, sending you to the floor. 

You couldn’t process it until he grabbed you under the arms, hoisting you up like a child. You stared at him in shock, your feet brushing the floor. You used your free arms to punch and push at his face but it was no use, he wasn’t budging. You tried so hard to fight him back, the pain in your underarms becoming evident. It was uncomfortable. You couldn’t get the upper hand, it was useless, at the end of the day he was stronger and you were injured. 

He had fury in his eyes as he screamed and threw you against the lockers with all his might. 

The ringing of the impact filled your ears and immediately, a sharp pain was felt on the side of your head. You fell to the ground, limbs limp. Your vision was blurry, your mind was confused about why stars were shining inside the halls. Something warm and wet dribbled down the side of your face as he said something.

“No mercy, bitch,” he spat. 

That was the last thing you heard before all the noise rang out and everything turned black.

#eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz #hawk x reader #cobra kai

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I’m having a thought! So we all want to see Antoni smut cause we’re thirsty, but of course respectfully understand that he is Ace. But Artyom ….👀 OR Antoni remembers those things…. Endless possibilities there Ash

CW: At first NSFW for like... Four paragraphs, some initial consensual spice, more or less whumper POV in a way, death threats/murder, creepy whumper

Antoni allows no direct smut, Anon. This is as close as he will let me get.

-

Sweat trickles down the back of Artyom's neck, and his breath is hot and damp against hers. Her little cries are right against his ear, high-pitched. Her fingernails drag down his back, a little further with each rock of his hips.

He couldn't begin to describe how this feels. Hot, tight, wet - all the usual words come to mind but none of them are good enough.

Carly Riggs digs her nails so deep into his back he's sure he'll find blood later, whispering oh god oh god oh god as she comes. The way she goes tighter than ever around him, the prickle of pain near his shoulder blades, even just the way her voice sounds all overwhelms him and he follows her, eyes tightly closed as pleasure takes him.

The leather of her car's backseat sticks to his arms, his head nearly knocking into the door, but finally they slow and then stop, both of them breathing hard.

"Eto bylo khorosho," He groans. "Tak khorosho, tak korosho..."

Carly reaches one hand up to wipe the back of her hand across her forehead, smiling at him. It's a dopey expression, sweet and sated. He likes that look on her. "What?"

"Sorry. I mean... Very good. It was good." His accent is rougher just after sex, voice slightly breathless and rasping. He pulls back reluctantly, dropping a hand to dig around for his boxers and jeans. "We should do again sometime, see if I can be even better."

"Better than tonight?" Carly laughs, pushing herself up to seated, wriggle her jeans back up over her hips. "I might die."

"Only in little ways." He winks at her before pulling his shirt back on. "This is the idea, right?"

"Oh my god. Artyom, you are the weirdest." She's still grinning as he offers her a hand to scoot along the seat and finally stand. The breeze outside the car cools and dries the sweat on them both. Her hair is a rat's nest of tangles in the back, and they're both flushed and have a sheen of sweat. Not entirely subtle. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the party with me?"

"I am sure." He smiles, leaning back against the side of her car. She eases the door shut and follows suit, their elbows nearly touching. She yanks her tank top back down.

"Whenever somebody gets you to agree to a date, I bet you'll be an amazing boyfriend," Carly says, teasing and not-teasing.

"Maybe." He has no intention of dating anyone. Ever. But he doesn't say that to her. "Be safe at the party, eh?"

"Of course." She leans over to bump affectionately against him, as close as he allows to a goodnight kiss. "I'll see you at work on Tuesday, right? We both open that day."

"Da. You will see me then. Now I need to go inside. Keep off your lights until you are gone from my neighborhood, please."

"Just tell your mom to fuck off." Carly sighs, finger-combing her hair as best she can. "You're a fucking adult. Do what you want."

"Mmmn. Easier to say than to do."

It isn't his mother he is worried about getting a good look at Carly Riggs.

But he just gives her a hug, her perfume and the scent of them together a heady mix in the air, and opens her front door for her to settle inside and drive away, easing slowly down the road to make as little noise as she can.

His key in the lock makes only the slightest sound, and he oiled the hinges so the door never so much as squeaks. The house is dark and silent, the TV for once is off. He moves with perfect knowledge of every obstacle between him and his bedroom - avoiding the box of clothes for donating that has been sitting for three months now, his mother's little dog's pile of toys, even a kitchen chair out of place.

The vodka in the freezer pours easily into a shot glass, and he knocks it back to feel it freeze and burn, tasteless, down his throat.

Two more shots and the warmth spreads further than the cold, so he adds a little water to cover what he stole and puts it back, turning the bottle so the label is exactly the way it was when he came in..

He has long experience at this. His father will never know, never guess. The better for his health if his vodka turns more and more to simple water, anyway.

He showers, washing Carly off him as well as the smells of his job. When he checks the mirror after drying off and pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants, he sees - yes, scratches, with bright red spots where blood welled up, from just below his shoulder blades down nearly to his waist.

He smirks at the sight, but then realizes the bathroom door is open. His smile fades as his eyes raise.

Reflected in the mirror, Misha stares at him, expression somehow both empty and avid.

"... The bathroom is taken," He says, after a breath. His younger brother, head tipped against the doorframe and mop of hair falling over his eyes, smiles. It's thin, and it doesn't reach his eyes.

None of Misha's expressions ever reach his eyes.

"Got mauled by a tiger at work tonight?" Misha's voice is light. He makes a little claw gesture with one hand, fingers bent. "Rrrrow."

"Misha-"

"Which girl was it? The cute brown-haired one?"

Artyom turns away. "None of your business. Go back to bed." He wets a toothbrush and gets toothpaste, hoping to stave off the conversation long enough for Misha to lose interest.

At first, he thinks he might have succeeded. Misha disappears from the doorway, and Artyom makes his way to his bedroom in the dark. His father's snores are deafening, down the hall. His mother will be sleeping in the guest room, and even if she snores, too, it would be impossible to hear it over his father.

He pads barefoot over the hardwood floor until he heads into his room, letting the door close behind him and collapsing onto his twin-sized bed with his feet hanging off the end. He can hear Misha's television in his room going through their shared wall, low murmuring voices.

There's a beat of silence. Artyom takes a deep breath, holds it for a beat, slowly exhales. Outside, the breeze shivers the leaves into a soft rustle. His clock reads past midnight, but if both his parents are asleep already, they won't know to bother him about it.

Not that anyone ever minds when Misha misses curfew, but if Tyoma is late, oh, let hell rain down...

He groans and rolls onto his side, pulling the covers up. He can feel bitter tomorrow. Besides

"The blonde, then?"

Artyom shoots upright with his heart in his throat, eyes briefly wide. "Chto za khren', Misha!"

His brother is a shadow in the corner, leaning against the wall with his hands in his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched.

Smiling.

In the dark, he has only even deeper shadows for eyes.

"Tell me which girl it was, Tyoma."

"I... Why?" His heart pounds, and he scoots until his back hits the wall, watching as Misha pushes lazily away from the wall and takes the two or three strides he needs to drop into the computer chair Artyom keeps next to his desk. No computer, but maybe one day. If he can save up.

"Because I want to know, dumbass." Misha laughs, leaning over. There has always been something strange about his laugh. "I want to know who's out there stealing my brother's heart."

"No one is." It's an honest answer. "Not sure I even have one to steal, Mishka." Less honest. But his voice is still too airy, and he can tell Misha enjoys the idea that he has frightened him. "It's just... friends with benefits. Da?"

"Is it?" Misha scoots the chair closer, clicking over the boards on the floor. Artyom feels strangely trapped, even though he could push Misha back and run. But he doesn't. His brother won't hurt him.

Not yet.

"It is." He drops his voice even further. "I promise, Mishka. There is no one outside the family. No one."

"No one but me." Misha is inches from him, his knees touching the side of Artyom's bed. Now light from outside, dimly white, glimmers over his dark eyes. "Right? Right, Tyoma? Family first."

"Right." Tyoma meets his gaze. Misha's eyes are like dead things, empty marbles in a moving face. "Family first. No one is more important than family."

"Right. And I'm your family. Me. So you can't run off to screw people if it means not taking care of me, right? If you get some girlfriend-"

"I don't even want one." Artyom cuts him off. Misha leans even closer, somehow. And there's a glint, a sheen of moonlight off metal. His little brother is holding a knife. "Carly and I are just friends who, who fool around sometimes."

"Carly, then." Misha's smile widens, like a skull's rictus grin. "The blonde. I figured."

Artyom winces, internally. But all he does is swallow the lump in his throat and nod. "Da, Mishka. She has a boyfriend at college. This is just for fun."

"Khoroshiy, Tyoma."

The silence draws out, and then Misha moves in almost a lunge forward and upright. Artyom flinches back, but Misha only ruffles his hair, giggling like he used to do when they were kids and he would push other children down the slide before they were ready.

"Relax. You are my family, too, Tyoma." He pats the side of Artyom's face. The knife in his other hand disappears back into a pocket, closed up into harmlessness again. "Family first."

"Family first," Artyom whispers.

Misha turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Artyom doesn't fall asleep until it's nearly dawn.

A week later, Misha calls him for help, and he spends the night digging a grave in the woods, just deep enough to cover two bodies with pine needles and fallen leaves without it being obvious. It takes hours, and his arms burn, muscles screaming for him to stop. He ignores the pain.

Misha helps, which he doesn't usually do. He digs, too, his eyes locked on Artyom's face. The dead bodies mean nothing, now. They've served their purpose.

"They're both pretty," Misha says idly. "Good luck I found them, huh?"

Artyom grunts.

"Hey. Tyoma." Misha snaps his fingers and Artyom looks up. Misha is only a couple feet away. He has the same look on his face as he had in Artyom's room the other night.

"Don't see her again outside of work, Tyoma. Don't. You don't need friends. You have me."

"... Mishka-"

"Don't 'Mishka' me. I said don't hang out with Carly Riggs anymore unless I'm with you. Okay?"

"... Yeah."

"Say you won't. Say it out loud. I can finish this myself, you know."

Artyom thinks of the knife Misha keeps, one he never uses on anyone else. He knows that knife is for him.

Artyom's heart pounds all over again, exertion and a dim terror beneath. "... I will not hang out with Carly without you."

"Good. Let's finish this up."

He goes back to digging, and Artyom follows suit, trying not to look too hard at the bodies.

A couple Misha saw in a bar and wanted to destroy. So he did. And now Artyom buries them for him, as always. Because his mother's heart would shatter if her youngest son was caught doing such evil things.

Because he knows what he must do to protect the brother who has been the center of his life since his birth. The brother who will one day, he thinks, be the center of his death, too.

He feels Misha's eyes on him like a brand as he dumps shovels of dirt over the open dark, slightly feline eyes and messy dark hair of the man. The tangled blonde hair and bright blue eyes of the woman. She has a t-shirt on from the restaurant where Artyom's been working.

It isn't a coincidence. It's a message, and Artyom understands.

Family first.

Or else.

#whump #box boy universe #antoni sings lullabies #artyom #burying a body #murder #death #horror fiction #misha the serial killer #some consensual spice #death threats tw #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #obsessive whumper #whumpers #bbu #mmmmmn backstory whump #consensual spice tw

[theoisdaydreaming]

I was checking my notes and came across a few prompts and fics i wrote,,, so I'm posting some of them!

Starting with the oldest one lmao

(shindeku, gender swapped deku, dadzawa, erasermic 💀)

Puppy Love!

Chapter 5 "hi"

"Hey boys! Need a ride?"

The car window opened to greet them with the green eyes and bright blonde hair of his husband.

The older man nodded at shinsou and they both got in the car with the ravenette's husband

"hey"

"hey" he smiled as they greeted each other with a kiss, wich in return made the younger boy sitting in the back of the car look away uncomfortable.

"i got off work early at the radio station so i came to pick you up" hizashi said as he started to drive away

"where are you going kid?" he motioned to shinso looking at him from the rear-view mirror.

"um, could you drop me at the cafe in gatoaishi street"

"sure" hizashi smiled "your parents work there don't they? At the cat cafe?"

"yeah, my moms own the place"

"oh that's lovely! Me and shouta love that place" his green eyes lit up at the mention of their favorite place.

Shou and him love to spend their few free days at the cozy stablishment.

"we've never seen you there" shouta cracked an eye open with his head resting in the window at his side.

"im usually at the back" the boy shrugged and the adult nodded in understanding.

"oh! you don't mind if we pass for our daughter in the way do you?" hizashi asked "we're picking her up from dance class and then dropping her with a friend " he smiled.

"sure" replied shinso.

Izumi, as it is friday, had decided to go out with her friends after her extracurricular.

Even though they had accorded to not tell everyone about their familiar connection, it wasn't exactly a secret, as it was impossible to hide it from the green haired girl friends when they needed to come and drop her off, it had been a shock to all of them, they were specially, uncomfortable when they decided to have a sleep over at their house only to realize that it was their teachers house and that izumi yamazawa stands for yamada-aizawa.

So, not al lot of people knew, but they weren't trying to hide it either.

Taking a turn they come across the place she's coming out of dance class, waving goodbye to her teacher and other classmates.

The car stops infront of her and shinso goes wide eyed.

"hey pops! Hi dad" she smiles at the as she enters the car only to stop on her tracks at the sight of the unexpected passanger in the other side of the back seat.

She freezes as her forest color eyes widen as big as a deer in the headlight.

"hi" the lavander haired boy breathes, looking like he just saw a ghost.

"hi" responds the girl, her voice raising almost 8 octaves.

"izumi, this is shinso, he's the boy that's been training with your dad" the blonde explains.

"you fought him at the sports festival, you remember, right?" Shouta adds.

"No, yeah, I i remember him.." izumi and shinso exchange looks, eyes still widen in surprise.

Shinso must be surprised that the girl she fought was his teachers daughter all along, it does come as a shocker as there is no resembles between her and her dad.

"shinso, this is our daughter, izumi yamada-aizawa" says Shouta.

"I see.. it's nice to formally meet you" he offers his hand with a smirk as izumi gives him a weak smile as she shakes her hand which only makes him chuckle.

"I guess that makes sense, of course it was aizawa-sensei's daughter to beat me"

"wha- but, you did amazing! It doesn't matter who's daughter I am, you could've totally beat me"

Shinsou blushes at izumi's response.

"I'm just saying.. If hadn't know what your quirk was I would have totally lost" she shrugged.

"well, I mean- That just undermines your analityc skills, even if you hadn't been told what my quirk was before the battles started, you would've still figure it out"

Izumi looks at the lavander eyes staring deep into her, his compliment not going unnoticed, making her cheeks flush in pink.

"I know right! My little girl is so smart, did you know she has more than 12 notebooks on quirk analysis?" hizashi says excitedly "she has two of them dedicated to just us" he beams proudly with a smile.

"dad!" izumi reddens impossibly more and shinso smiles at the comment of the girl's energetic father, both haven forgotten that they were in the car with both teachers.

"what? It's cute" hizashi shrugs.

Shouta smiles a little when he sees the pout in izumi's face.

The car stops at a small coffee shop, it reads 'Ta-neko', through the windows you can see few people enjoying their coffee and pastries, a a cat sleeping in a counter where a woman is taking orders from customers.

"where here!"

"thanks for the ride, sensei"

"oh, no problem, we were going to drop off izumi with her friends anyways" hizashi smiles then looks at the green-haired girl "where did you say the place was, izumi?"

The two teens in the back share a look between them with startled faces.

"oh um.. A few blocks away actually!" she stutters.

"I can just walk from here, don't worry"

She grabs the handle of the door intending to get out and shinso shuffles to

go with her.

"are you sure? We can just take you there" Shouta glances at her.

"yeah, itsokeybyedadbyepopsloveyou"

"Okey, have fun hanging with the squad!" hizashi waves the two of them as they both get out the car.

While the drive back home Shouta thought about how weird izumi was acting during the whole ride, he wonders how she feels about the boy.

While he knows his daughter is not usually one to dislike people, he can't help but think that she was perhaps intimidated by being in a car with the person she fought in the sports festival.

It was a though match after all, not in the physical sense but in a mental way, even while knowing that shinsou's quirk needs a verbal response in order to activate, some of the things he said for him to get a response from izumi could have been a little harsh. It's not strange she feels a little uncomfortable around him.

Shinso has had a problem with how people persive his quirk as 'villainous', and though he can relate, he has developed a sort of inferiority complex due to this. He has tackled this problem with him in the time they've been training and he has honestly gotten better at not comparing himself and assuming things about other people who have more flashy quirks.

I'm sure they won't have any problems, but looking at how izumi reacted it's best to keep them apart in class. He's gonna have to change sits this Monday.

....

"so... Hanging out with the squad" the purple-haired boy grins.

"technically, we are" the greenette shrugged.

"just a little later" she smirks.

"sure"

....

God, he wished they would've just dropped her at the place and not let her walk to there, because now he doesn't know where she was or who gave izumi a bouquet of flowers that left her singing love song all day....

He opens the door to yet another song blasting in her pink stereo, violating his ear drums, izumi is walking around her room, in her pink flowered nightgown, tossing her head and swaying her hips to the rhythm of the song with phone in hand, no doubt texting her friends.

♫ I LIKE SHINY THINGS BUT I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS, UH-HUH THAT'S RIGHT, DARLING ♫

At his left he can see a vase of water with flowers in it, looking at it it's more clear that it's not a bouquet of flowers but more a mixture of plants with tiny little white and pink flowers likely ripped from someone's garden. It was kind of cute. But he still intended to ask who his daughter was hanging with.

#its on ao3 if you want to read the previous chapters #tho i dont know why would you #bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #ao3 #bnha fic #hitoshi shinsou #shindeku #dadzawa #female izuku midoriya #fem!deku

[overturetoanadventure]

Yesterday I kayaked at a state park that was a four hour drive, one way, with some friends to celebrate my upcoming birthday. The space was so so so beautiful. It felt really nice to see different friends get along well! Our music tastes didn’t align as a group but we made it work (and I think all four of us are a bit too polite (there’s a better word but not wanting to think hard rn) and after garnering reactions from the first run of songs, we started asking to skip stuff that was already created by the Spotify blend lol). While on the river, we came across a mom and her daughter; the daughter got lots of anxiety halfway into the trip as they floated along. The mom asked us if we know how much longer it would be for them to reach the next drop off point and how they could arrive quicker. I was on a tandem kayak with one of the friends and we offered to tie the rope connecting their tubes together to the back of our kayak. They then joined us for the remainder of the kayak trip. It felt so nice to be able to help them!! Then, after we returned our paddles and vests, we changed and we’re eating snacks while gathered around the trunk. There was a lady who parked next to us that i had seen on the river that wore such a cute outfit and had killer eyeliner so I commented on her makeup! She had brought her own kayak and was struggling to put it on top of the car so we offered to help her. It made me remember the mom conversing with another guy on a tube we came across in which she remarked that she was going to ask him for help but he was too far ahead and instead got there with girl power. Girls/women really do rock :-) I would like to go back there with a full day lined up so that we can go tubing after we kayak as well!! I woke up today in such a great mood thanks to the joy from yesterday!!

I watched memoirs of a geisha with a dear friend yesterday. Before we began the movie my mom called and I can’t remember but some part of our conversation pissed me off and i felt irritated even after ending the call but I was trying really hard to keep those feelings internal and enjoy the movie but she asked if I just wanted her to leave and I felt really bad so I tried to do a lil meditation inside my head and it really did help!! The movie was really good! I remember annotating my copy of the book back in the summer after I graduated high school and rereading it through my freshman semester too so I vaguely remembered the plot but I’m glad that she ended up with the chairman in the end. I’ll miss hanging out like this and am trying to somehow store the shared happiness away for when I’ll, no doubt, miss her presence and affection after she lives abroad. Neither of us are big texters; I do much better with in person communication so distance is a big issue for me unfortunately. Proximity is also the largest factor in relationships which is backed by research.

Moving on, ended the night with watching the finale of the last of us and then dissecting it as a group and sharing our thoughts. I think I would’ve done the same exact thing as Joel, and also like the callback to that ‘crazy’ lady who was hunting Henry bc he had sold out her brother to fedra for medication for his own little brother in the whole ‘what lengths are you willing to go to for your loved ones, even if that’s not what they would want for you to do’ as her brother would have likely forgiven Henry were he in that situation and similarly, though idk about life ending brain surgery for a potential cure but Ellie clearly wanted to go through with working with the fireflies to help find a cure and Joel defies that due to his now accepted role as a parental figure and the associated love and attachment and somewhat manipulation (again not the right word but idc rn) that it entails to parent a child. I was really saddened by the fact that he broke the one constant in their rocky relationship which was trust in honest communication. It’ll be heartbreaking whenever she has to confront with both herself and him that he lied to her about something so important when she tried to offer him an opportunity to come clean.

Also I know the whole ‘I know you say like you me but do you actually hate me’ thing feels overdone as a society and I very much hate that I still have feelings like this about people I’ve been friends with for a little bit if not a few years now. I know for my own self that I go through phases where honestly just being around people is too much and interacting often feels overwhelming and I start to get annoyed by them and that it’s not actually personal. I’m trying to tell myself that if I am capable of feeling this way but still loving those people at the end of the day, then I should be okay with sitting with the idea of my friends being annoyed by or disliking me sometimes. But like idk what’s wrong with me but I’m like well if you don’t like me then I feel that im worth less. It’s really annoying being aware of my people pleasing tendencies too because I constantly question whether im actually a kind person or if my kindness in any situation is driven by the need to be liked. I know this goes back to childhood trauma and blah blah blah but like I’ve already talked this shit through in therapy twice can’t I just be a stupid airhead that’s confident in herself and her relationships. It feels gross to want constant validation. Fuck.

Oh. Also??? My face and neck, and especially the bottom area of the skin under my eyes feels so dry and tight and itchy. It’s all a bit red and my neck is very splotchy. I can’t discern if this is the work of allergies bc I’d never experienced allergic reactions (or was aware of it at least) before or if I somehow went too hard on the retinol?? And I’ve been slathering my skin in like three layers of different moisturizers without drying my face even after I wash it but no dice. I might just have to buy Zyrtec or Benadryl tomorrow and see if it helps. The power of deductive reasoning to the rescue.

#dear diary

[vinylhazza]

For Keeps (G.D)

Summary: Jesse knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it, or rather demand it. Grayson, who carries respect and dignity like a shield of armor, walks the line of being the vanilla boyfriend he always thought she’d want, or the guy that listens to the devil on his shoulder and embellishes on the fantasies that won’t leave him alone every night. There is a first for everything, a time and place to try something -- or some one new. There is a chance to set the fire in motion. He might just take it.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: Strong sexual content, giving head, fingering, spitting, explicit language 

          There is a first for everything.

          The first time you ride a bike, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you win an award, the first time you hear your favorite song, the first time you talk to the person you’re meant to spend the rest of forever with, the first time you overcome your worst fear, the first time you read your favorite book, the first time you travel to a different country, the first time you have thoughts that should damn you for eternity and for some...there is even a first time for eating pussy.

         It’s an embarrassment he’d never wanted anyone to discover let alone put to the test. Sure his friends had their time to talk about their extensive knowledge on female anatomy, but whenever the topic of him and Jesse doing anything outside the box he himself had placed them in, his lips were sealed. For one thing it wasn’t their business, for two he’s not entirely sure what he would say. He knew the time would come. He didn’t view their relationship like a race and he knew Jesse didn’t either. They’d been friends for too long and knew each other too well for him to base their relationship off of sex. 

       Grayson keeps his eyes glued to his hands holding Jesse’s hips tight -- unsure of what to do now that he’s got her beneath him and wanting him to have his way with her. He knows what he wants, but doubts that he has the courage to pursue it within him. He’d watch her with careful eyes as she peeled off each article of clothing before pulling him close by his belt loop and on to the bed to kiss her rough busy day away. A picnic was nice, but his complete and undivided attention was better. Even if his eyes trailing up and down every part of her body made her nervous. 

          He’d done plenty of things with his ex before Jesse, but none of those things had involved his lips and tongue anywhere beneath the waist. Not anything like he’s inevitably about to do. 

         “Cat caught your tongue?” Jesse had snickered minutes ago, a sly smirk lacing up her ruby red lips from so much kissing -- moment’s before he’d gotten them both all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help it when he was with her, his self control falters and he’s drunk off her touch once again, swimming in a pool of despair he can’t control. All he can think about is her. Wanting her. Needing her. Touching every single inch of her velvety skin. Wanting to do things to her. Wanting her to do things to him. Things he would blush at in the future.

         Jesse was a woman with desires he’d only dreamed of women having. She was shy at times but the devil danced in her bright eyes. Grayson knew she wanted things she’d never had the guts to say out loud and things she only wanted from him alone. It all made him a fierce kind of nervous, but gave him an electrified thrill. A challenge for him to explore the workings of her body and all the ways he can make her more satisfied than she’s ever been. He didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon - and if he wanted to do her right, he had to go outside of his comfort zone for her.

         Knowing Jesse was more experienced did things to him that he couldn’t begin to hide -- but more than anything it made him jealous of every set of hands that had ever touched her skin before his. It made him reckless and competitive, focused and haughty. He was better than them, he could be better than them.

         He could rapture her into a whirlwind of pleasure that would ruin her image of every man except him, wanting no one's mouth but his, daydream of no one’s lips but his own, beg for no one else’s touch, want no one else’s hands but the ones holding her now. It wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his pleasure for once, it was truly all about her. 

         Pulling him back into the flames, he’s burning up under her intense stare, waiting for him to do something, do anything. Anything but watch her long enough to find something less than stellar, less than grand, less than exceptional. With her fears unfolding she pulls him down for a kiss of her own, a soft feather of a thing he can feel all the way to his toes. She’d always been good at that, giving  him more to miss when she’s away. The way she hugs him close is one of those things.

         Grayson fell hard into love—which wasn’t particularly unusual for the hopeless romantic he was, but he always knew Jesse was set apart from the seasonal heartthrobs. He was truly bewitched by her creativity, wanderlust, unapologetic confidence, patience, and beauty.

         An enchantress she was, beautiful beyond anything he could ever deserve. Drop dead gorgeous with the personality to match, there wasn’t a head that didn’t turn when she walked into a room, not a man that didn’t fumble over their words at any opportunity to talk to her, not a woman who didn’t want to be her friend. Sure her beauty was undeniable, but her benevolent heart beat it all.

         He may never know why Jesse had leaned in to kiss him seven months ago save for three days in a hidden corner in Café Verona -- a quaint treasure he’d always hold dear to his heart. Fairy lights criss-crossed along the ceiling, soft Jazz waltzing with the beat of his heart, emerald green leather bench pressing into his thighs. But he’s glad she did. He’s glad she leaned in to kiss him when he’d been building up the nerve for weeks. So afraid to go there but more afraid of not knowing what would happen if he didn’t. He’s glad she took his chin in between her fingers to hold him still enough to feel her lips press to his securely, a warmth swarming in his chest where the heart shaped hole once was.

          If he flipped through the pages of his memory, he would remember a statue-like stillness about him before he sunk into her touch, caging her head in his large careful hands. Feeling the gasp she tried to hide, the smell of grapefruit shampoo and the way her flushed cheeks felt under his stroking thumbs. He would see himself fall into her, around her and through her, off the edge of the rocky cliff and into the dark blissful deep of nothing but her.

          He’d be eternally grateful she looked at him with utmost sincerity and whispered with a raw kind of intensity that he’d “driven her mad you see” -- and he’d heard it then, the brittleness of her voice because fear rattles her to the core, and she had been scared out of her mind. A crack that tracked through her careful confession and to the root of him. Jesse was scared of what he meant, what he was in terms of her heart, what he could be if she continued to kiss him the way she was.

          In that quiet moment he remembered what made her so deeply rooted in his heart: the laugh that rattled him, the soft smell of peaches and vanilla, the way she never drives without sunglasses because her mom who passed away much too early did the same, the dance she does when she finally eats the first bite of food after damn near breaking the world in half in hanger, the way she punches the roof of her car after making it through a yellow light because her best friend in high school did the same, the way she always turns her spoon upside down when eating ice cream, and the way she always has answers for everything no matter what topic, even the way she laughs entirely too hard at Family Feud. 

         For that reason alone he waited for the physical parts to come when they may. It was new and exciting sure, and he’d always loved her heart of course, but her body was uncharted territory. He was patient, yes. A gentleman guarding some assumed virtue, even if he knew better than to think she was anything but a seductress. Patient enough to tell her no when she’s had one too many drinks and not enough discipline. They’d been friends before anything else - the best of friends with a foundation of trust. He’s spent years trying to gain that trust and he vowed to keep it.

          Of course he could have been that guy on many occasions: possessive, selfish, greedy and crude. He could have played his cards and dealt his dirty hand at the wrong moment and still pulled out ahead. I mean hell, how often do guys get out of the friend-zone? But he wasn’t that guy. No matter the relationship status — they weren’t ready.

         They hadn’t been ready to cross that carefully drawn line in the sand, not until now. With the strawberry White Barn candle burning in the corner on the cluttered desk one could expect from a college student and a half full can of Arizona tea on the night stand...her face lit with a mystical kind of magic he’d only ever seen the day she leaned back after their first official kiss. 

         “Hold my hair.”

         Grayson found the words slipping off his tongue easier than they’d come all night. All he’s planned on was a simple date in the park that was tucked away and secluded from all the people that could interrupt, he’d even brought her favorite book and laid back on a soft patch of grass to listen to her melodic voice read to him. He’d planned to come back and share a peck or two while watching a new episode of Daredevil and holding her through the night. She’d had a long day full of texts to him, trying to get him to give her the okay to walk out of her low-paying job and not look back. He never planned on laying her down on his bed and caressing every inch of her skin until he was finally delving into a place he’d never been quite like this.

          He was nervous but he could do anything, be anything with her hand in his hair and her kind eyes watching him defile her. He just knew from this moment on he would have a reputation to uphold, as cocky as it sounded. He had to prove he wasn’t as lost as he felt. He felt like a virgin all over again, like he was doing something raw and real and scary. A secret only the wrinkled sheets would remind him of later.

          Her touch, her soothing him through something that frightened him has always been a crutch for him to lean on. When he got in a fight with his brother, she was there to comb through his hair and talk him through the proper apology, when he decided to change majors and had a breakdown so crippling he couldn’t breathe she rocked him through it until his breath was even once again, when he wrecked his new car on the way home from a party he never should have been at she was right there to give him a kiss on the cheek and help him call the insurance company and his erratic mother who loved her like a daughter. She led him through the rough parts of life and then some.

           He never imagined she would be leading him through something so sensual, but he needed her bringing him back to earth all the same.

          Jesse obliged with a grin of her own, feeling him shuffle down to trail a string of kisses across her torso and down to the base of her need and desire. The fireball of want burned in her stomach, turning her rational thoughts brown and charred. He was good at that, making her need him fiercely. She’d never wanted anyone so much, and even if she thinks back to past flings - she’d never been satisfied like she was with Grayson, and they’d done much less.

         “What are you thinking?” Jesse wonders, distracted by his soft supple lips and his nibbling at her hip, but wanting to hear the inner workings of his brain. Her fingers fidget, wanting to push him by his brown mop of hair down lower - just to feel him at last. She needed this distraction, she just needed his help to forget. Not that she hadn’t been waiting for months for this exact moment, there was just urgency in the way she’s stripped herself bare before him. 

          She almost expects him to wait for her direction, but jerks against him when he takes the lead all on his own. How could he not with her as his complete mercy, giving him the fuck me eyes and twisting a lock if hair around her finger? 

          Grayson thinks on that as he trails his mouth down, down, down to slick his tongue up the base of her, smirking to himself when she wiggles against him. “I’m thinking that I like you this way.”

          The contact was a shock to her nervous system and a promise of what was soon to come if she kept tempting him the way she was. She was a heathen with angel eyes. Someone infatuated with his innocence (at least he was more innocent than she) and curiosity to learn every curve and dip of her body. He made her feel powerful, unstoppable, undeniable. She craved it as much as he craved her own lips tracking across his skin - in the heat of the moment or in the still of the night.

          “Naked you mean?” She laughs then, trying to keep herself at least somewhat under control now that he’s grown some balls and taken the first step. She’s shocked momentarily that she didn’t have to practically order him into touching her.

           She grips her breasts at another bold swipe of his tongue. Rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers and tensing at the sparks flying up her center. The feeling of him spreading her open, blowing against her throbbing clit is almost too much to bear. Jesse curses then, a soft “fuck” she tries to reel back before he gets too big of a head. She knows it fell on eager ears when he delivers another bold stripe of his tongue up her center -- slow and deliberate. 

           “Unguarded,” he finally grumbles, rubbing away the goosebumps that pepper her thighs. She thinks for a moment that she could gave turned off the ceiling fan circling over top of them, but feared she might burn up if it wasn’t for the white blades blowing on her crown of hair going every which way on the pillow. 

          She ignores how right he is - that she’s never been this vulnerable with him before, but instead rolls her eyelids shut to feel him really delve into her - opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to her flat. This is just what she needed, her favorite person trying something new and succeeding at it. 

            For someone that’s never given head, he was pulling it off. He was going to ruin her.

           Glancing down at the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face, Jesse curled her fingers into his plush head of hair once again, somewhere between heaven and hell with no real knowledge of the difference.

           She moans at his lips wrapping around her, the suction to her lower region and the way his thumbs dig into her skin to hold her in place. No running this time, she had no choice but to feel it all. This is what she wanted right? 

          “This feel okay?” he teases, tentatively trailing the tip of his tongue around the place she wanted most. He loved to see her eyes alight with that devilish incomprehensible lust. He was truly winging it, doing anything he’d heard from friends or watched himself late at night, anything to further her soft pants and moans tumbling out of her O shaped mouth. She was too good to be true and felt like one lucky bastard. 

           Nodding down to him she groans, wanting him latched to her. “M-more than okay just keep going.”

          He never knew it could feel so pleasurable to be the giver and not the receiver nine times out of ten. He didn’t know how selfish he’d been and the opportunities he'd missed to feel compliant and...obedient. He liked it. He loved it. He loved the position he was in - her looking down at him like the goddess she was and always had been, him crouching down at the end of the bed to devour her in the best way he could, his hair disheveled, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her tight.

          He lets instinct take the wheel, peppering kisses to her clit and bringing his own  hand down to slip in a finger to add extra stimulation - pleased when Jesse releases another string of curses. Fowl language huh? Wonder what she’d do if he stopped-

          “You’re such a dick-“ she tugs at his roots, rolling her hips into his mouth that savors  her now, lips slick with her wetness. She tasted good, he’d concluded. It wasn’t anything like what he imagined it would be, no, it was better. It felt better than all of the horror stories he’d made up in his head. He’s sure if he wanted to - he could stay right down between her legs for hours -- until his lips were sore and his tongue tired. Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when she’s been waiting so long, fantasized too often. She huffs out again “Thought you’ve never done this before.”

            That must be a good sign, right?

           “Never,” he slurps at her, shaking his head and groaning into her core. He felt the slickness of her on his cheeks now. Bowing down to eat her out was harder than it looked, especially with back problems as it was. 

            Focused and drunk on Jesse’s gentle hip thrust into his mouth he hugs her thighs and stands upright, just off the edge of the bed, bringing her lower half up in the air with him. He can feel her trembling now, wide eyes gleaming at him with surprise and delight at the new and better position.

            She was losing it. She’d had him compliant at first, her soft-hearted boyfriend trying something new...but damn he was tugging the ropes from between her fingers and leading her to a path less traveled. Quick learner he was.

           “Grayson put me down! Have you lost your mind?” Jesse squealed, grinning at his closed eyes and moving lips, deaf to her antics. She was expected something quick, maybe even simple, but him switching up positions was not in the game plan as great as it was. 

           She could see it now, the guy that was always hiding just beneath the surface. She could see how her sounds urged him on and made him try harder. She could see his arms shaking from the weight of her legs and the effort it took to hold her pussy as close to him as he could. She could feel the heavy breath fanning out across her pelvis from his nose. She could feel the tickle of his hair dangling down and whispering across the skin of her stomach. She could feel that same ball of fire seated in her stomach slip lower and lower with each passing second - until the words that fell out of her mouth were nothing but strings of profanity would make a sinner blush.

             It was going to sear her in half, that fucking ball of fire. Hot lava stirring up a flood she couldn’t stop. It was splitting her in half just as his digits were now, pumping into her hard and fast, curling at his knuckles. His rings gleam from the yellow lamp-light and shock her when they touch her dewy skin. She had lost all sense of control.

            Hearing his own moans, hearing how desperate he was to keep eating her pussy and make her feel better than anyone had, got her inching towards the edge. It was a low kind of growl itching at his throat.

            The taste of her blurred his senses, the soft smell of her making his mind spin out of control, the tightening walls of her cunt around his fingers fucking her fast, the light sheen of sweat that glowed in the dim light of his room - he was a madman with no direction but forward. He had to keep going, for stopping would surely break them both. He would love to tease her, but knew if he stopped one more time she would kill him in a heartbeat. 

          “Open your fucking eyes and watch me.” He barked down to her, stopping only for a moment to glare at her. His fingers continued their fast paced in and out, in and out, in and out.

                         He’d figured if he was going to take it all the way, he needed to pull every string. Needed to pull out the nasty daydreams and make them a reality. This is something he would have for keeps. Something he’d want to do over and over, something he couldn’t wait to do again. Something he’d want to remember. 

          Peeling her eyes open she sobbed at the sight of him spitting into her pussy with a smile, staring at her darkly. Light eyes blacked into pits he ruined her through and through. He had to be lying, he just had to be.

          “Fast learner,” Grayson sneers, leaning forward to smear his saliva around her slick folds, arms circling her midsection to hold her close again.

           “ Fuckfuckfuckfuck- keep fu- keep going!” Jesse begs, barely holding on to the light threatening to slip away into the fire burning her up. “Doing so good Gray, so fucking good.”

             She had discovered soon in the relationship and the minimal sexual acts they’d indulged in that Grayson was a man that adored praise. He wanted someone to tell him how good he was doing, even if he already knew it. He wanted someone to look him in the eyes just as she was doing now and watch him succeed. He wanted complete undivided attention, verbal acknowledgment. 

              He sucked at her still, sliding his tongue into her quickly then — remembering someone in a poorly shot amateur porn video did the same to the tatted up blonde he was practically fucking to death, and hoped it would have the same effect on his beautiful princess begging for him to keep going. He kept note while he watched the video, knowing one day he would be standing where he is now relishing in the gold mine that belonged to him. He fucker her with his tongue, humming into her cunt for the added stimulation. 

               Fuck all she was the end of him. “Pretty pussy all wet for me, yeah? Want to cum? Bet you doubt me huh? Thought I wouldn’t do you right…”

               He chucked at the vigorous nodding of her head, the eyes rolling in the back of her head, the hand that leaves his hip to pull at her own hair. Her eyes squeezing shut in panic now that she feels the tip of the iceberg coming up fast. 

               “Don’t even know how crazy you drive me, how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

               Hearing him admit it only made her thighs quiver against his strong arms, only made her want more, made her creep dangerously close to the edge she was for once in her life afraid to fall off of. The crash into the sea would be the biggest shock she’s ever had. Jesse tried to focus on her breathing, trading the heaving for squealing when he dipped his tongue in her entrance to give her something to fantasize about. She’d never had someone tongue fuck her, let alone stair into her soul while they did it. 

              Fuck he was good. Too fucking good.

             “Baby you have t-to slow down,” she warns, the big splash terrifying and so close. He was a wicked man for doing just the opposite, spreading her legs wider and shaking his head against her again, eyes squeezed shut like he knew what would happen in only a few seconds.

               “Grayson step back,” she tried to warn more firmly, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling of something new about to happen, embarrassed already but too worked up to stop it. “Shit - Grayson step back!”

                And there it was, the strongest orgasm she’d ever had and certainly the wettest. Her release soaked the bed beneath, sheets spotted with her arousal and breath stolen from her lungs. She’s not sure when Grayson had dropped her, or whether her convulsing body wiggled out of his grasp during the black out she’d just had. She was spread on the bed in her own mess, her chest flushed, damp hair stuck to her forehead in waves, vision blurred, eyelids drooping in exhaustion, hand somehow in Graysons.

              He’s there then. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, his hand a ghost on her forehead brushing away those tendrils of hair, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles with tender care, his lips smoothing the furrow of her brows. Grayson is lifting her without a word, caging her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smoothing her head against his chest to feel the weight of her there - just to feel the heat of her consume him.

              “Holy fuck,” she breathes, spent. 

              “I hope it wasn’t too much,” he whispers into her hair, hand smoothing over the locks while rocking her around the room, mind racing with every image of what he’d just done and the feeling of complete bliss flooding his body.

                He’s almost worried she fell asleep in his arms until he feels the shaking he can only assume is laughter, before she’s hugging him tighter. “Idiot. I can’t believe you’ve never done that. And I can’t believe I’m this tired. Feel like a rookie.”

               “Guess I passed the test then?”

               “Flying colors.”

                Jesse nuzzles in as far as she can, tucking in her arms against his chest and letting the state of Nirvana wash over her. With a sigh Jesse thinks over the shocking events of her boyfriend being 100% nastier than she’d initially thought — not that she’s complaining.

               She barely remembers Grayson running a bath, or setting her in the steaming tub with a kiss, or waiting for him to strip the bed with a giddiness sitting in his chest at all that they’d done, barely remembers him joining her in the tub and catching soap in the calm of his hand to smith the suds over her post-sex body. That’s the only way she would describe herself in the moment, her skin felt sensitive to the touch, sparks still shooting through her with the feeling of his hands on her.

             What Jesse does remember is laying with Grayson in a bed freshly made, arm draped over his stomach, head resting against his arm, lips peppering kisses against his chest randomly through-out the night. She remembers the feeling of adoration and understanding. What they’d done was both the most foul thing she’d ever done, but also the most liberating and beautiful experience. To lose yourself in another person in such a way that you’re utterly consumed by them was...foreign to the pair laying together in the still of the night.

              Jesse waited until Grayson was softly snoring until she said the only thing she’d never had the guts to tell him in the months they’d been dating. He’d been waiting on it patiently. It was different between friends, but it meant so much more when you don't want to say it to anyone else for the rest of your life. The moment she says it, she can’t ever take it back. Maybe that’s why she chooses the early hours of the morning to lean in and press her lips against his feather soft, blinking back the mist clouding her vision. 

              “Don’t know if you could tell...but I'm kind of in love with you...so just be patient with me please I’m trying for you.”

              Maybe she would get the guts one day to say the words while he’s awake, maybe face to face or with the lights off because she has some kind of comfort in the dark, or maybe it would slip out on accident. In any way that it happens, she hopes he will smile. She hopes that he knows how insanely incandescently happy he makes her each and every day, and how honored she feels that she got to experience another first with him.She hopes he will be comforted that his feelings are 100% reciprocated. She hopes that she gets to see that beautiful  smile he wears on special occasions -- the true smile that he doesn't show too often. For now she presses her lips to his once again, smiling softly as the slow ride and fall of his chest, arm holding her close, the ring she won him out of a shitty machine in the corner of a tattoo shop he’d stopped into on a whim secured on a thin chain around his neck, and the fluttering of his eyelashes while he dreamed. 

#grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfiction #fk!gray #forkeeps!gray #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan #Ethan and Grayson #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan fanfiction #fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins smut #youtube #youtubers #dolan twins fanfiction #dolan twins imagine #imagine #grayson is a God #grayson is a pretty baby #love you sparklebabies ✨

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

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PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

**

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

**

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

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[calllamander]

Okay I'm ready I've made up my mind , here's a little backstory no one wants to hear: my sister just got engaged and I cried for about half an hour because I was so freakin happy for her sooo I'm in such a lovely mood , maybe you can pick that up and write a little engagement thingy ? :) idc if it's drabble hcs or else , whatever works best for you sweetie 😊 also you can pick the character ...... but we both know who works always for us lmao

Thank you so muuuch and take all the time you need ! 💖

ahhhh! this is so sweet! nonnie congrats to your sister!! when I got this ask I literally started smiling so wide in my online class that everyone was really confused 😂 I hope this is alright...and plausible haha I’ve never been proposed to (hurry up Tooru smh) - sorry for the wait, this is my piece de résistance and I wanted it to be as good as it could be ❣️

Hq boys proposing

KUROO smiled at you from the passenger seat, your hand in his as usual as you drove, Tokyo fading into the patchwork fields of country. “tetsu...” you ask, laughing as the wind tangled you’re hair, “where are we going?” it seemed almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask because he suddenly looked nervous, very nervous, the kind of nervous where he accidentally blurts out chemistry pick up lines on the first date (it’s a miracle he got a second one). he looked over, emboldened by your easy enthusiasm. “do you remember when we were still in high school, and you used to call me and just say ‘get me out of here?’ ” his voice is low and serious, and impossibly gentle with emotion. you nod, and your smile gets sadder at the memory, the memory of you. “well,” he stops the car and opens up his door, hurrying round to do the same for yours, composing his thoughts as you start the walk, down the path off the road, along the river, and he feels a flush of pride as recognition illuminates your face. it’s a perfect evening, the sky is watercolour pink and orange, and the water reflects it perfectly. “we found this place by chance” he continued speaking faster from nerves, “and when we walked down this- this exact path, i knew that this was different from anything else. my whole life I have had a good life, and I had been with good people and yet I‘d just felt...” he paused, and looked you right int he eyes, before sighing out: “restless.” your mouth opens slightly and you whisper his name. “And you know when I’m with you I just feel still” he continues, starting to blink back tears. “and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything y/n l/n, and” he got down on one knee: in front of the setting sun, and the river refracting the light. and he did look still. he looked radiant and relaxed and so so happy. and you covered your face with your hands but stopped yourself because you didn’t want to miss any of this. “and this is my moms ring” he said, “and i wish she could’ve met you but I know she would have“ his voice cracked and he looked away for a split second, swallowing hard, “would have loved you almost as much as I do.” he grinned in spite of himself and you smiled too, even through your tears. “so,” he laughed, “after all this, I guess ill just....” he laughed again, messing his hair up agitatedly, “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you laugh and run towards him, “a thousand times yes!”

OIKAWA looked himself over once more in the mirror, he’d tried hard to look like he’s trying but also casual which makes him feel kind of stupid but that paradox of appearances and feelings is just how he’s wired. casual. not I’ve-been-planning-this-for-forever-and-if-it-goes-badly-i-don’t-have-the-faintest-idea-what-I’d-do. that’s not what he wants. it needs to be a total surprise. the rings already in his breast pocket, right above his heart. the ring feels like happiness. “princess?” he spins and offers you his arm, “ready?” And when he’s sees you he blushes down neck like when its genuine, because you look beautiful in that dress, and he might be getting a little bit choked up, and ducking down to hide it. because...because it’s you, because he’s actually doing this. with you. actually. finally. “lets go then” you laugh and he laughs back with a determination usually reserved for the court. because this is everything. the drive is a short one and the night air is cold against your cheek, the streetlights make oikawa’s hair a coppery halo round his head and the wind fluffs it up in a way he gets frustrated about but you could stare at all day. “i love you ” you sigh, looking over at your boyfriend, and he blushes and stutters and tries to focus on the road. “I love you too darling” and he gives you the gentlest smile that he‘s ever shared with anyone “te amo, mi alma.” he parks and takes your hand. the observatory is empty: long closed, and your heels clack on the tiled floor. the stairs are steep, but the two of you are young and you‘re boundless because that’s what love does to people. in no time at all you step out, into the round room that forms the top floor, and gasp. there’s candles set in the corners and there’s flowers and there’s your boyfriend looking utterly ethereal, his white shirt a buttery yellow in the candle light. and you feel your heart just ache with how much you love him. he presses a button, and, as the roof starts to open up like a flower, he takes a deep breath. “when I was younger every time I felt lonely I used to think about space” sliver by sliver the roof was opening up, and you could see a glass dome, snatches of stars, pinpricks of light. torus voice was gentle, and fragile, and proud and horrifically insecure and somehow everything because it was him. “theres more out there“ He glanceable up at the sky unfolding, “than we can ever comprehend...I liked it. I liked that it was infinite. i liked that I belonged to something that was chaotic and orderly and empty and full” he swallowed hard. “and then there was you. and you were the best person I had ever met. and I thought that maybe I would have to be something else for you, because i’ve felt like that my whole life. but you - you just...made me feel like I belonged. and I didn’t need the night sky anymore because this,” the roof finally opened all the way and for one perfect moment it was just you, tooru and the universe: the heaviness of him, and the lightness too. “this is infinite.” he dropped down on one knee. “y/n l/n I love you with everything in the solar system and I will until every last star is blown out, and a thousand years more. and this isn’t horrifically corny so I’m going to just ask: will you marry me?” You let out a sob

“yes”

SAKUSA leant into your touch the way he never had for anyone else. like a warmth he never knew was missing, a tiny puzzle piece in his soul. your hand was running through his hair, occasionally creeping down to rub his back. he blushes, because irritatingly he can’t stop himself (but does he wean them to?). you‘re off guard now, relaxed, eyes closed, breathing in the night air from the roof of your apartment block. his face is in your neck and it’s all very peaceful (so peaceful it makes his heart hurt). he takes a deep breath (its now or never). “...hey y/n?” you hum, opening your eyes to show you’re listening. he struggles to think of what to say. “i love you” he settles on. you kiss his hair, “I love you too omi.” you say it like it’s obvious and he shakes his head, sitting up a little more so he can look at you. “no, I mean...I- I didn‘t know what love was. and I didn’t realise how badly I wanted it, until I met you. and I just” he exhales, momentarily turning his head up to stare into the sky. “I want to spend forever with you. that. that’s what I want. and I don’t have a ring, or a dramatic plan and maybe that’s what you would have wanted-” he’s looking down now, he knows, getting nervous, and he forces himself to get back on track. “but” He realises he should be kneeling and goes to do so in front of you. “I would be the happiest man alive if you would marry me.” and there, on a camp bed that he dragged onto the roof and covered with bedding just because you mentioned you liked the night, under the cloudy 11 o clock sky with the love of your life. you said yes.

@anonanonymousanon

#kuroo testuro #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x you #the place kuroo proposes is actually a real place haha #But it’s in England not japan #wedding #proposal #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa tōru #oikawa imagine #haikyuu oikawa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x y/n #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa comfort

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

Tag List: @spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @spencersmagic @uhuhuh @living-for-romance @aharvey979 @xoxo-jnh-xoxo @marrymespencerrei @crypticcorvidinacottage , @ladydragoneye , @stjoaninthewildwest

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 08 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.5 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (07)

Next part (09)->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Hearts Wide Open

Silently, you let Billy pull you inside. You can't help but give a quick look around as he closes the door. “Are you busy?” You ask, gesturing at the TV.

“I was going to work out but...” He walks over there and turns it off. “I–” Someone knocks, cutting him off. “Who's this?”

“Delivery for Susan Hargrove.” A male voice says, and Billy rolls his eyes.

“Give me a sec.” He mutters before heading to the door.

Nodding, you pace around the living room. There's a bench press in the middle of it, and the bellbar seems very heavy. Walking further inside, you give a glance at the door. Billy seems to be arguing with the guy, so you decide to explore, walking through a small hall. On the first door, you hear some music, so it's probably Max's room. You go for the next door, slowly opening it.

It doesn't take much time until you notice it's Billy's room. He doesn't seem like he's done arguing, so you walk in. The bed is messed up, and there are movie posters on the wall. Walking around, you notice a couple of pictures on the inside of his wardrobe door, which was left open. In one of them, a blonde woman is looking away, a hand keeping her hair away from her face. In the other, the same woman with a kid next to her, both smiling. It's Billy's mother, that's clear.

“Sneaky,” Billy says, startling you a little.

Stepping away from the wardrobe, you clear your throat. “Sorry, Mmm... She's beautiful.” You mutter, gesturing at the pictures. “And you seemed very happy.”

“I was.”

“Yeah...” Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms. “B, I...”

“I'm sorry, (Y/N).”

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk over to the bed, sitting on the edge, eyes locked on your hands. “Why did you... Why did you disappear like that?” You didn't plan on getting all sentimental, but it's just flowing out. “We were fine... Normal and then... You just left.”

“Stacy pushed you because of me. People are... People are starting to notice we're around each other a lot and they'll start calling you a slut. And... I already screwed up my life, I can't screw up yours.” Billy sits next to you, so you pull a leg up, folding it under you and turning your body towards him.

“First of all, I need to know if what you said at the mall still stands. Or else I'll sound like an idiot.” Keeping your voice low, you try not to sound too nervous.

“Every single word. That's why I decided to step away.”

Nodding, mostly to yourself, you sigh. “I... I was trying, you know? Trying to see if we would work out somehow.” You didn't want to admit it, but here you are. And if you don't speak your heart now, you never will. “We're extreme opposites but I do enjoy spending time with you. And the friendship we're creating is good so when you left, when you disappeared, skipped school... It upset me.” Looking down, you see his hand on the mattress. Shyly, and very slowly, you take it, your fingers caressing his. “If you're tired of me, of... Waiting to see how things play out, it's alright. But please, go back to school. Keep studying because I'll help you no matter what. Just... Just don't do this.”

Billy takes a deep breath before taking your hand in his and moving closer. “I disappeared because you're the only person whose life I can't ruin. I can't be the reason why you get hurt, or called mean names, or–”

“I don't care about what people think or say, Billy. I only care about what's real. What's happening here and...” Shrugging your shoulders, you pull his hand up with yours, just to make your point clear. “It's freaking good so far. At least to me.”

“A girl like you should stay away from guys like me.”

“I know.” Nodding, you bite your lip. “My mother and I spoke about it. About you. So did Nancy, and Steve... They warned me not to fall for your games.”

“There are no games, not with you.” The honesty hits you a different way, and you can't help but smile.

You're aware of what people say, and you know the things Billy did. But you can see the difference now. Billy never tried anything. No flirting, no cheesy pick-up lines, not calling you to a ‘more quiet place’. Nothing. He's being... A completely different person. He treats you nicely, a freaking gentleman, something you never expected of him. Mostly not after the way he approached you last year, all charming and wicked smiles. This is different. This is real.

“Billy... I called before coming and your sister answered the phone.” You start, wondering if you should really ask what you're about to ask. But still, you need to. You need to know if you can allow certain feelings to emerge. “She said something about a keychain and... She said that... That she thinks you're in love with me.” The last part is barely a whisper, and you wonder if he even heard you.

Billy doesn't answer, he just stands up, walking away.

“B, I'm–”

“It fell from your bag last year.” He says, and you turn around on the bed, finding him next to the nightstand, a metal daisy flower in his hand. “I was going to give it back but it was broken so... I don't know. I wanted to just throw it away but I ended up keeping it.”

“Why, B?”

“Because it reminded me of you.” Stretching out his arm, he passes it over to you. You remember it now, taking the cold metal in your hands. “I thought it was everything I would ever have. A broken keychain and those moments that I got to look at you from afar.”

After a while, you give it back to him. It takes a few seconds before he takes it, sighing. “I always noticed you staring. I just never knew why.”

“I may be.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilt your head to the side a little. “I don't get it.”

“I may be in love with you.” His voice is heavy, and you can see in his eyes that he feels vulnerable. Billy Hargrove admitting he's in love with a girl? This might be hard for him.

“I like you, B. So... Don't decide things for me.” Getting up from the bed, you walk over where he stands. “I don't care about mean names, or stupid girls pushing me. I can deal with that. And you can't ruin my life, I'm the only one who can do that.” Taking his hand, you look up into his eyes. “And I don't think you ruined yours. You can still fix things. You are fixing things.”

“With your help.”

“With my help.” You agree with a smile. “So what do you say? Can we please go back to normal, you and I?”

Billy's lips break into a smile, and he nods. “Is that what you want? To be seen with the bad boy? You, princess of Hawkins.”

“That's Nancy's nickname.” Stepping backward, you smirk at him.

“Oh, yeah. Yours is ‘pretty girl’.” He quickly ends the distance between you two, towering over you.

“Stacy wouldn't agree.”

“Stacy is jealous.” Billy lightly touches your cheek, so softly you barely feel his fingers, like a ghost. “I'll say it a million times over, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

“Am I?” You shyly ask, eyes focused on his. Billy was never this close, and it makes your stomach burn.

“You are.” Suddenly, he steps away, walking around you, straight to the door. “Your tits are fine by the way.” He says from the hall, when he's already out.

Your whole face burns, and you storm after him. “First of all, don't use that word.” You yell, walking fast to the living room. Billy is by the bench press, ready to lift the bellbar. “Second, drop that. We're going to study until you pass out.”

“What?”

“I'm not asking.” Raising an eyebrow, you put both hands on your hips. “C'mon, Hargrove.”

It takes a while until he drops the bar, eyes rolling before he follows you.

The drive to your place is on separate cars. You'd stay at his house, but you were quick to get that his father is a problem, so it's just easier to do it at your place.

When you get there, you make a show opening the front door, gesturing for him to get inside.

“Mom, I got Billy back!” You shout.

“Good to know you're better from that cold, Billy.” She says from upstairs.

“A cold?”

“Yeah. It was that or tell Mrs. Martinez you were skipping class.” Shrugging your shoulders, you go to the dining room, settling down in your usual place. “So we're ok now? Friends again?”

“Friends again.” He agrees, searching for your hand under the table and grabbing it, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “As long as you want me around.”

Smiling, you nod. “As long as I want you around.” You snap back with a sassy tone. “Now, immunology.”

“Immunology it is.”

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @theodore-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85 @taisab02 @pascal-rascal424 @aleksanderblack

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #billy stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

[jimlingss]

i have a request for something Taehyung! maybe taehyung christmas/holiday??? OR taehyung and the prompt "Give me attention"??? honestly i will take anything taehyung 🤩

↳ The Best Friend’s Older Brother Cliché

2.3k || 99% Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Best Friend’s Older Brother!AU

Taehyung is your best friend’s older brother. 

It’s so entirely cliché that you cringe whenever you think about it, but it’s true and it happened…..you had the tiniest crush on him in high school. Okay— it was a big, fat crush. But you weren’t willing to admit it, not then and certainly not now. Mostly because it’s weird. Plus there’s the fact that it would be breaking the code of honour between besties. Sisters before misters.

The last thing you would want is to make Joy upset. 

But when you came home from college in the summer and Taehyung returned from his own studies abroad...you didn’t expect him to look like that.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“H-Hey.”

Taller. Leaner. Better dressed.

Maybe it had just been a long time since you’ve seen Taehyung. Maybe you had gotten desensitized but the long period away from him made you hyper aware of his existence again. Either way, seeing him made you realize that he had very much become a man.

He was no longer just the unattainable, cool teenage boy that you swooned over but left behind nonetheless in your coming of age years. And that fact slapped you across the face.

You didn’t expect for him to be like that either.

To smile at you like that. To strike up conversations. To be interested in what you were doing, where you were going.

“What are you majoring in again?”

“Anthropology.”

“Really? That’s super cool. I took one anthropology class when I was a freshman. Do you like it?”

“It’s not too bad. I think it’s interesting.”

Taehyung smiles faintly. “I always knew you were smart.” 

It was one date. 

You came over. Joy was abruptly called in to fill a shift at her summer job at the ice cream parlor.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I swear I’m going to choke Jimin.”

“And then who’s gonna have to bail you out? Get going before you’re late.”

“Promise we’ll hang out more tomorrow.”

“Have fun at work!”

Taehyung happened to be there, hanging around the house, and he offered to drive you home.

“You really don’t have to.”

“I’m not going to make you take the bus in this hot weather, you know that right?” The corner of his mouth tugs easily. “Just get in the car.”

Except you both stopped to grab a small bite. A burger and fries. While sitting out at the park.

You’re not sure if that even constitutes as a date — there was nothing said about it, no mention made, all entirely too casual to be considered one. But it was the first time you and Taehyung were alone together.

Okay, if that counts...then technically it was two dates.

You and Joy went out to Jungkook’s party. She had a little too much to drink and the pair of you needed a ride home afterwards. Naturally, Taehyung was the one who picked you up in his car, begrudgingly, as Joy fought him before she laid down in the backseat, but he still flashed you that smile.

“Had fun tonight?”

“It was alright.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t end up going home with him.”

“Who?”

“You know. That guy with the glasses you were talking to on the lawn.”

“Namjoon? Oh no, we’re just friends.”

“Hmm. Is that so.”

After Joy was put to bed and tucked in, Taehyung asked if you wanted to stick around to watch a movie. You might or might not have cuddled into him during those three hours, but really was it cuddling? He just slung his arm over the couch where you were sitting and you leaned into his chest.

The two of you were just getting comfortable.

Alright, if that counts, then it was three dates but just three!

Taehyung asked you out personally, but it was to help him pick a gift for Joy’s birthday. He drove you downtown and you walked together in the streets, checking out boutiques before parading around the mall.

“What do you think?”

“Joy hates camo print and she doesn’t need another backpack, Taehyung.”

“Perfect! So she’ll love this then.”

He ended up getting a sweater she’d been eyeing for months.

When it became dark and you got hungry, instead of being dropped off at home, you went to the night market together on a whim. You snacked, had conversations and exchanged numerous stories. You still remember the laughter and how much your cheeks ached when you finally jumped into bed that night.

But before the summer ended, before you both left for your respective colleges, he wanted to talk.

“I had a lot of fun this summer.”

You eye him. “What did you even do this summer?” 

“Hang out with you.” Taehyung grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I liked it.”

“Good. I might be hurt if you thought this entire time was awful.”

“I like you too much to ever think that. But...hear me out. What would you think we made things offici—

“We’re going to be super busy,” you interrupt in a panic, having a sense of where he was going with this. “...going to different schools and all that.”

You search his expression while schooling your own. Taehyung stays silent for a second and tries to read you. You’re not sure how successful he is.

“Right.”

“I’ll contact you, Taehyung.”

He smiles at that and eases. “Okay. Yeah. Sounds good. You can call or text me anytime.”

“Anytime?” You try to lighten the mood by shooting him an incredulous look. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“If it’s you, it wouldn’t be a bother. Trust me.”

Except when you got back, you didn’t call him. You didn’t text him either.

You only saw him briefly when Joy would occasionally facetime him in the same room as you, when you were merely a figure in the background and Taehyung would ask who it was.

“Y/N, of course, who else?”

And you would give a small wave.

There were no conversations, no small talk, no exchanges of laughter. But it was better that way. Otherwise, you wouldn't know what Joy would say, how she’d react. You don’t even know if he’s serious about you. And you’re too scared to find out the answers to any of these questions.

It didn’t matter anyway. Deep down, you know Taehyung should be kept at a distance. You know it would be better if these feelings could fade away as a sweet, brief summer romance.

What you didn’t anticipate is to come over to the Kim’s for the holidays a few months later.

“Where are you going?”

Taehyung’s following after you, trailing at your heels like a lovesick puppy. “And don’t tell me you’re showering because you already used that excuse to avoid me today.”

You spin around, masking your startlement at just how close he is, and you frown. “I’m not avoiding you.”

The corner of his mouth tugs. “We shouldn’t lie to each other, sweetheart, even if you have the tendency to do that.”

You feel hot in your face from the pet name. “I never lied to you.”

Taehyung raises his brows. The both of you know then and there it’s a lie.

“My empty phone says differently.”

You cross your arms defensively. “I never promised I’d remain in contact. I was just...busy with classes.”

“Oh. Another lie again.” Taehyung grins, and he exhales softly causing a hundred goosebumps to raise along your skin when you feel the warmth of his breath. “You should really stop your bad habit, Y/N.”

You take a step back and he steps forward.

Before you know it, he’s cornered you in the dark hallway, staring at you intently before his half-lidded eyes flicker to your lips.

You swallow hard. “Go annoy your sister instead.”

“Why should I?” His mouth slyly curls. “I like you way better.”

For the entire duration of the break so far, the both of you have been sneaking around the whole time. From Taehyung instigating a game of footsies under the dinner table to whispering in your ear when no one’s looking to winking at you from across the room so quickly that you’d miss it if you blinked. You feel his affectionate hand on the small of your back when he slides by you, feel his gaze when his shoulders graze yours, and you feel the tickle in your tummy when his voice lowers into that seductive, husky pitch. 

During the summer, he was kind and friendly Taehyung. Cautious when it came to you. Hesitant to look your way.

But this time, he’s intensified. Flirtatious. Bold. Pulling out all stops.

Maybe it’s because he’s pissed that you didn’t contact him like you said you would. Maybe because he doesn’t understand why you’re restraining yourself, and he feels the need to push to know. Maybe because he suspects you know he likes you, and you like him — he wouldn’t be wrong. 

But either way, his new brazen approach was making you weak in your knees.

“Your mom’s coming,” you mutter while pressing your hands to his chest. You don’t know how or why he feels so firm.

“She isn’t. But even if she was, she’d be more than happy to know we’re together.”

“W-We’re not together, Tae.”

“That could change right now.”

“I...I can’t.”

His thick brows furrow. “Why not? I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

You swallow hard, feeling scrutinized under his heavy gaze. Taehyung’s beauty is lethal when he’s this close and you feel an urge to brush away the dark strand that’s fallen in front of his forehead from his neatly styled hair. It was a contrast to the casual hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing. He was handsome and cozy, ready to stop hearts or be hugged like a teddy bear.

It didn’t help that he was saying these kinds of things either. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” His voice drops a pitch. “For the past few months, I’ve been thinking about the summer and you. The entire time, I was waiting for you to call me, to text me. Do you know what that’s like?”

“Taehyung.”

“We can make this work. I want to make it work, so don’t make me wait anymore.”

You gaze at him, breath hitched in your throat and your self-control meets its limit. You practically leap onto Taehyung, heart thundering against your rib cage, standing on the tips of your toes — all to kiss him.

It’s soft and unhurried. 

Taehyung is caught off guard, but then you feel his wide smile against you. Immediately, his strong arm reaches for your waist and he tugs you in. A yelp escapes your throat as your bodies become flush against one another. Taehyung’s other hand presses against the wall behind you and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth and you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He tastes like sugar cookies, smells like citrus, and absolutely makes your knees weak.

You’re not sure how long you and Taehyung make out for, swapping spit like horny teenagers without experience.

It’s not until you hear a— “what the hell!” — do you break apart.

Joy is standing at the end of the hall and you shove Taehyung away from you, wide-eyed. He stumbles back, equally surprised.

“I-I can explain!”

Joy’s jaw has gone slack and you realize she’s waiting for said explanation.

“I….I…we….umm….”

Taehyung looks at you and then at his sister, opening his mouth to rescue you from this mortifying experience. But his sibling beats him to the punch—

“Look.” She raises her hands and you brace yourself. She wouldn’t end your years of friendship over this, would she? Then again, you can’t blame her if she did. “You don’t have to make this weird. It isn’t weird unless you make it weird. So I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“Wait.....what?” That was certainly not the reaction you were expecting. You think you’re more taken aback than she is. “You’re okay with this? You’re okay if we’re dating?”

Joy nonchalantly shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re adults, so you can make your own decisions and I kind of had a feeling there was something going on anyway.” She smiles and looks at her older brother. “Taehyung, you’re way too obvious. The biggest gift under the tree is for her from you.”

He grins. “You caught me there.”

You’re shell-shocked at how unconcerned she is and seemingly supportive at that.

“You knew?”

“Of course I do. We’ve been friends for what, ten years? I knew you had a crush on my brother back then. So if anything, it’s about time.” Joy raises her fist at Taehyung. “You better not make Y/N cry or I’ll make you cry.”

He snorts. “Wow, thanks.”

“Anyway, continue.” Joy lazily gestures. “But we’re watching a movie in five so be quick.”

Your best friend leaves to the bathroom where she was heading to in the first place and you turn to Taehyung who has an amused grin. “Well?”

“I don’t know.” Your mind is reeling at everything that’s happening and how real this is becoming. “For some reason in my mind, I thought that would go way worse.”

“Is that why you were so worried? You didn’t need to be. Joy likes you way more than she likes me, so if anything I’d be the one getting the flack.” Taehyung smiles and leans in. “But does this mean we can finally make it official? Can I call you my girlfriend already?”

You sigh and lift your arms to loop around his neck again. He leans in for another kiss, but you stop short an inch— “Depends on what that gift under the tree is.”

Taehyung grins and before you can pull away, he tugs your waist into him once more. 

This time you kiss each other unabashedly. 

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung reader insert #bts reader insert #squirrelandcrafts #Jimlings #Taehyung as your best friend's flirty and hot older brother lol

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

come home with me

author’s note: here’s a college au! because that’s what I do xP also a couple of weeks ago I mentioned something about sonic and remembered it’s not universal SO: sonic is a drive-in fast-food place (so there are stalls and you eat in your car)

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Sonic. What’d you do, grow up in a cult?”

Cas frowns at him. “Yes, Dean, I did.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he pulls into the tiny stall of the drive-in and puts the car in park. “Well you gotta get mozzarella sticks then. And a Route 44.”

Cas leans across the seat, over Dean, and peers at the lit-up menu. “Why’s it called a Route 44?” 

“Because it’s forty-four ounces.”

“...What about ‘route?’” Cas fingers curl around air quotes.

“Route. Driving on the road. This is a drive-through?” Dean sighs. “I gotta get you out more.”

“We’re out right now.” 

Dean refuses to let Cas order, instead getting them tater tots, mozzarella sticks, milkshakes, and slushes. 

Cas slips his feet out of his sandals and props them on the dashboard--Cas is the only person Dean lets do that, because Cas is the only person Dean lets do a lot of things.

They were randomly assigned roommates at the start of the year, and now there’s only a few weeks left until summer, so Dean is trying to cram in as many “normal people activities” until Cas goes home to his literally cult-like family.

(Dean has tried to convince Cas that he should come home with him to Kansas, at least for a week or something, but he hasn’t managed to get Cas onboard yet.)

Cas is weird, which makes sense, but he’s also a lot of fun. He makes all of Dena’s favorite things seem new again--he’s never listened to any music that isn’t classical or Christian radio, he’s never seen a color movie, and watching TV? Absolutely not. Dean’s gotten the opportunity to give him a crash course in all things Humanity, and along the way, he’s gained a friend. 

“Why do you have to go back, anyway?” Dean asks after their food arrives (Cas is delighted by the carhop wearing roller skates). “I mean, they let you come to college.” They do this often, picking up a conversation they dropped off hours ago as if no time has passed at all.

Cas sighs and sets down his milkshake (the inspection of a maraschino cherry was fun to watch). “It was part of the agreement,” he says heavily. “I get to go to college if I spend my summers at home.”

“And what about after college?” Dean asks around a mouthful of tater tot. “I mean, you’re gonna go out into the world, right?”

Cas shrugs. “Not necessarily. My older brothers didn’t. They just married women from our church and stayed.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows that Cas doesn’t want that, because Cas told him so, a few weeks ago. 

They haven’t talked about it since, but it was a late Thursday night when Cas returned to their dorm room, practically in tears after a scheduled phone call with his parents. Dean had intercepted Cas in the best way he knew how--with a leftover slice of the pie he’d made in their dorm’s communal kitchen that afternoon, a slice he had saved just for Cas. 

They’d sat on the floor of their room and, between bites of pie, Cas told him that he was gay (which didn’t shock Dean at all, really) and that he had told his parents (now that shocked him). Apparently they hadn’t reacted well. That night, they’d both slept in Dean’s bed, because he didn’t want Cas to be alone. 

Now, in the neon glow of Sonic’s lights, drinking slushes, that time seems both far away and immensely close. Cas stares out the windshield off into the distance, slurping thoughtfully on his milkshake, before saying, “But there’s nothing I can do about it, really.”

“You could come home with me,” Dean says in a rush. “I know I’ve mentioned it before but...I’ve already asked Mom and she said it would be fine, and there’s a guest room at the house. And you would get to meet my brother! You two could nerd it out all the time. And there’s a really cool park there, with those flowers that you like, and--” Dean stops in his tracks, because Cas is staring at him with a curious expression on his face, his head cocked to the side.

“You’re sure your mom would be fine with it?” Cas asks. 

“Like I said, I already asked her. She’ll put you to work, though.”

“It sounds nice.” Cas sighs again. “Sounds better than going home. And you’ll be there. I would miss you this summer if I went home.”

Dean’s not sure what drives him to do it, but he sets down his slush and reaches across the seat for Cas’ hand. Cas lets him take it and then threads their fingers together. 

Cas smiles at him, and Dean realizes that he does, in fact, know why he’s offering Cas the guest room back at home, why he held him close that night, why he reached for his hand just now. 

It’s the same reason that he scoots closer, hoping he’s not reading things wrong, that Cas gets it too--

Cas does get it, because he abandons all pretense and leans in, pressing his lips against Dean’s. Dean’s breath hitches as he gets a handful of Cas’ shirt (which is actually one of Dean’s that he threw at Cas last semester to get him to stop wearing button-downs all the time), and then their lips slide together. 

When he pulls away, Cas looks a little starry-eyed, and something occurs to Dean.

“Was that-was that your first kiss?” Dean asks.

Cas looks bashful. “Yeah.”

“...Was it a good one?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says thoughtfully, but Dean’s known him long enough to know that Cas is screwing with him. “We might have to try again.” 

#homophobia tw #just to be safe :) #cillabee #usershey #userstarry #offbeatwrites

[vibraniumwing]

my stars know about you.

a sam wilson x fem!reader blurb wherein sam finds the old videos the reader has when he was snapped away.

WARNING: a bit of angst and tfatws spoilers for those who haven't watched but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: ha yes hello i impulsively wrote this bcs my muse was so high all of a sudden and i have this monologue ready for it. listened to this playlist right here and wendy ft. john legend’s written in the stars <3 also, is this still a blurb ??

---

Sam had promised you he would clean around the house while you go on a fun little weekend with Sarah and the boys, wanting to give you more time to relax and be around his family; his lips churning up into a small yet giddy smile at the thought of the small velvet box hiding somewhere in your shared room that contained the necklace you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you could go out.

He was half-way done with the things hidden in your work drawer when he came across a flash drive that had a label written on it called visual diary. His brows furrowed lightly as walked to his side of the office, opening his laptop and plugged it in, opening the files to see multiple videos titled with dates, the first one from all the way back in 2018.

Sam shifted in his seat, clicking on that certain video only to be greeted by your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes, under eyes dark from the possible lack of sleep. His heart dropped at the distraught look on your face as you took a deep breath in before looking into the camera.

“hey sam, it’s me. it’s一 it’s been exactly five days since Nat called me about how you were one of the people who, unfortunately, got snapped into non-existence.”

The way you spoke caused goosebumps to form along his skin, realizing that these were probably videos you'd made five years ago, when the snap happened. Sam’s heart was shattered at how lost you looked from the other side of the screen, wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.

“I’m with Sarah right now, she’s sleeping in her room with Aj and Cass. She’s been strong, but you can see the worry in her eyes一 she’s holding up much better than I am though. I’ve been such a mess, I can’t look into the mirror without seeing… feeling you beside me. I miss you.”

Sam stopped the video, his own tears starting to choke him upon seeing the state that you and his younger sister have been. He knew that it was hard, after seeing Sarah struggle with the family business and keeping things together; seeing you wake up at night with cold sweat glistening on your skin as you jolted up from yet another nightmare of him not coming back.

He wanted to stop from diving deep into the videos but his curiosity was stronger. He scrolled through some more videos, randomly clicking on one.

This time, Sam was greeted with a somewhat cheery you, out on the hill you first confessed your attraction to him一 the same night he admitted that he loves you more than a friend, where everything started between the both of you.

“hey there, handsome. i surely hope you can recognize where i’m at right now, if not, then i guess i’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, finding your humor amusing despite how lackluster your tone was as you spoke into the camera. Sam reached up to trace your features that were present on his screen, remembering every single feature of yours, engraving it into the forefront of his mind.

“today’s the day we’re supposed to celebrate our first anniversary, sammy. we should’ve been in hawaii by now, swimming with the fishes or explore the beauty of that island. instead, i’m here, in my car alone on the hill where we first admitted our feelings for each other.”

Sam didn’t fail to notice how you were trying your best to hold back your tears, taking note of how your tongue poked the inside of your cheek一 a habit he noticed you would do whenever fighting strong emotions一 and he whispered a small, “Don’t hold your tears back, sweetheart.” and as if you heard him, you let out a small chuckle.

“if you were here right now, i know you would say something like, “don’t bottle those tears up, beautiful” or something along those lines. i want you to know that i’m trying, sam. but it’s hard, it’s been five long months since you’ve been gone and i don’t know how long i can last without hearing you say you love me or your obnoxious laughter that would resonate through the house.”

“I love you, baby.” was all that left Sam’s lips, tongue jutting out to dampen his lips as he listened to you speak, mind blank as too many thoughts about what he wants to say to you as of the moment are too much.

“i’ve told the stars about your laughter. it’s niche and cliche, i know, but mom told me to tell them all about the people i treasure the most whenever i can’t tell others about them.”

“i told them about how beautiful you are一 about how scintillating your eyes are that they could battle even the brightest star in the sky tonight. i let my stars know about how amazing of a chef you are even though you almost burnt my old apartment’s kitchen down because you forgot about the cake you tried so hard to bake.”

Sam cringed at the memory, nose scrunching up in disbelief that he could forget such a simple task; he spent the night apologizing and all you ever did was smile and lean in to give him a kiss in hopes to shut him up.

“i told my stars about how brilliant you are一 how your words are so deep even with the shortest sentences, about how you can easily captivate me and a bunch of others with the stories that you speak… about how much love you have for me and for everyone you care for. it never ceases to amaze me how you can stand up and fight for the people that you love.”

At this point, Sam was already in tears as you shared about how you spoke about him. He adored how your eyes were filled with that well-known fondness you have whenever you speak about something you love.

As the video ended, Sam was left to look at the reflection of himself on the screen, staring at his reflection as your words echoed in his mind. He always listened to you ramble on about how everyone’s destiny was written somewhere in the skies, their lives aligned like the constellations that shined bright in the nighttime.

Normally, he would brush it off, skeptic to that belief but as he tuned into your stories, he can’t help but believe that in what you were saying. Sam was about to play another video when he heard the familiar jangle of your keys in the front door.

Sam pulled out of his chair and raced over there to meet you, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug before you could even close the door. “Hello, beautiful.” he softly greeted, pulling away to place a light kiss on your temple. “How was your weekend away with Sarah and the boys?”

You chuckled softly at the sudden affection he was giving, dropping your duffel bag on the floor to wrap your arms around his torso, feeling how relaxed he was against you. “It was great! Could’ve been better if you were there to be with us.” you answered, reaching up to peck his lips a few times, making the latter smile. “What’s with the affection? Did you break something, Samuel? Wait一 were you crying?”

He shook his head, adamant in admitting that he was, he lifted you up easily as he took you over to your shared office, sitting back down on his office chair with you in his lap as he showed you the compilation of the videos, “I… I found the flash drive while cleaning and I got a little too curious and decided to see what was on it and well, turns out I got a bit more than what I expected.”

“I was going to show them to you one day, Sam.” you admitted, making yourself comfortable as you snuggled up to him, his arms laced around you securely. “But I wanted to make it a bit more… special since this was a very vulnerable time for me.” the softness in your voice made him curl a single digit under your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone for that long, baby girl.” Sam apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for leaving. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that you and his sister had to spend so many years without him. “I know you’ve told me multiple times that I shouldn’t say sorry, but I can’t help it. You’ve waited for so long.”

“And I’ll wait a million more if it meant I could be with you.” you cut him off, shifting slightly to make you face him completely. “You can go anywhere, anytime, for how long and I would wait for you to come back every single time. So please don’t feel guilty about it, love.” your hands holding the sides of his face as you start to pepper it with gentle kisses.

You smile at his peaceful expression, “My heart is in peace knowing that we’re written somewhere in the stars.” you say to him softly, squishing his cheeks in a playful manner, light laughter filling up the room.

Sam smiled, sealing the feather-like kisses with his lips on yours, capturing it for an intimate one that conveyed how much love he has for you, resting his forehead on yours right after. “You know that I love you, right Y/N?”

“I do and I love you so much more, Sam.”

---

TAGLIST: @https-bvcky @harrysweasleys @selenasprompts @weasleytwins-41 @anchoeritic @marvel-diaries @demirunner @barneswidow @lovecroftreads @punkrific @6r4cie @yougottalovefandoms @swiftssss

to those whose urls are in bold, i can't tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's in my main main masterlist <3

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fics #sam wilson drabble #sam wilson drabbles #sam wilson fluff #mcu #marvel x reader

[smallrainclouds]

It's not easy having yourself a good time

we're on a double-date with other people... why are we kissing? you're not my date

Credit for prompt to

Hypnos x reader (modern!College!au)

Word count: 2.7

Warning: some dating violence on OC's side. Wrist grabbing, slurs and controlling behavior.

Summary: this was the worst date of your life. Thankfully it's also Hypnos' worst date ever.

A/N: here have this fic. I had yandere! Hypnos I was working on but it's giving me issues (it was supposed be under 1k but it keeps growing).

Also, I am open to requests but will rejected any I don't feel comfortable doing.

No beta.

Thank and I hope you enjoy.

💤☁️💤

You regret everything.

You stared at the plate of food you didn't order, some sad little salad that somehow smelled greasy.

Why did you let yourself get talked into a group date? You know why, you thought your friend was going to try to set up with your lab partner, Hypnos.

You looked at the bubbles in your sparkling water, another thing you didn't order and wondered if the person you were with would ever stop talking.

You glanced up at the group at the table. Across from you with his own date next to him, was Hypnos who was frowning at your date.

At least you had one sane classmate with you. Hypnos had been your lab partner since the first day in senior year and honestly you had thought at first your friend was setting you up with Hypnos. If you had known it was with someone else, you would have bail.

Charlie was a nice person you told yourself and your friends thought they would be great for you. Charlie was just… maybe they didn't know you don't order people's food for them.

"Look what I'm saying, Hypnos, is that maybe that YouTuber guy shouldn't be called out as much. Not his fault people can't take jokes anymore." Your date, Charlie, said loudly across the table to Hypnos who just raised a brow.

You rolled your eyes, You weren't going to let your friends pick a date for you ever again.

"Alright buddy. Whatever you say." Hypnos shrugged.

Hypnos' date and fellow classmate leaned across Hypnos, her breasts pressed against his arm. You looked away, poking at your food. You certainly were not jealous, you told yourself.

"Come on, guys. Let's talk about something else." she whined. The other two couples that came along echoed their agreement.

Hypnos grimaced and sat up taller, making the girl sit up as well. You felt kinda bad for both you and Hypnos. Clearly neither one of you guys were getting on with your dates.

You looked toward your friend, hoping she would notice how poorly everything was going. You rolled your eyes when she was clearly lost in her own world, feeding her partner french fries.

Too bad your date wasn't with Hypnos. You thought he was actually cute back when You first saw him, if not a little odd looking with white curls and heavy lidded eyes. Now, you couldn't imagine a more handsome person.

You found your eyes kept going back to him throughout dinner. Especially when he pushed his hoodie sleeves up, showing off his forearms.

The table moved on to some marvel movie or something but you were drifting in and out. You kept checking your watch in hopes that you could end the night soon without being rude.

You could feel someone was watching you and you looked up to Hypnos' golden eyes looking at you. He glanced at the group, back at you and rolled his eyes. You smiled in agreement but quickly covered it up with your hand.

Hypnos pointed toward your plate with the uneaten food, eyebrows rised in a questioning way.

You tilted your head toward your date who was loudly having another argument over some tv show with one of the guys there.

Hypnos looked at your date for a second before he sneaked you his untouched plate of pancakes.

You mouthed, 'Are you sure?' and he nodded, pointing at a plate of mostly eaten omelet.

You mouthed a quick thank you and dug in. You were half though the plate of pancakes when your date noticed.

"Wait, where did you get the pancakes?" Charlie asked, "You know how fattening all that carbs and sugar are? I like my dates to be healthy."

"What?" You asked flatly. Did you really hear what you just did? Hypnos and his date were both staring at Charlie. Hypnos looked furious and You saw the girl send you a pitying look.

"Oh. come on, you know I don't mean it like that."

You suddenly lost any appetite you had and pushed the plate of food away. You looked toward your friend who remained blissfully unaware of your pain.

Your date swung an arm on your shoulders, you sighed annoyed at the causal possiveness. You only knew them for like two hours but they were already acting like you were going steady.

"Ready to hit the club, Y/N?" Your date asked.

You almost groaned, you had forgotten about the stupid club.

"Uh, sure. Yeah." You tried to wiggle your date's arm off but no dice. You thought you saw Hypnos send a disapproving look at your date but you weren't sure. No point getting your hopes up.

As you exited the diner, Hypnos tripped; knocking into your date and their arms off your shoulders.

Grateful for the excuse, you took a few steps out of their reach.

"Oops, my bad." Hypnos smiled widely, and gave a shoulder pat to your date who glared at him. "Just watch it alright?" Your date snapped as they made it to the carpool.

In the car, you peeked at Hypnos who just winked at you. You didn't hide your smile this time.

The club did nothing to improve your date or your mood. The loud bassy music was almost too loud to hear anyone and your date kept trying to get you to stay on the dance floor.

You were able to duck out of their hold and pointed to the table. They tried to tell you something but You didn't stick around.

You almost fell into the booth, your feet were throbbing and you just wanted to go home. You could just see your homework growing by the hour.

"Need water?" Hypnos asked. You looked up, "Oh I didn't know you were at the table. Yes please."

He handed you an icy cold bottle and you moaned at how good it tasted. He laughed and you blushed, feeling foolish.

"Sorry, thank you." You took a slip, without moaning this time thankfully.

Hypnos went back to his phone, fingers moving quickly. "No problem."

"Where is… um what was her name?" You asked, trying not to look at Hypnos too much. How dare he look this good in the club' dim lighting.

"Oh I forgot her name. But she is doing fine. Told me she was going home with her ex." He pointed to the dance floor where the girl was dancing against another guy, their mouths glued together.

You looked back at him, but he already was back to texting on his phone. He didn't seem upset at all.

"I'm sorry, Hypnos." You said awkwardly, not sure of what to make of this whole night.

"Don't be. I'm not." He shrugged. You couldn't help but notice how nicely the red hoodie fit him.

"I will admit though I don't think I will be trusting our friend's matchmaking skills after tonight." Hypnos looked at you, his amused smile made you smile in return.

"You and I both." You murmured your agreement.

You finished off your drink, eyeing him.

After a few more minutes, your willpower broke.

"Okay I gotta know. It has been months since I met you and it is bugging the crap out of me." You leaned forward to him.

He looked up from his phone, a white eyebrow raised.

"Is Hypnos your real name?" You asked him, not quite able to look away from him. You were being a silly school girl and you knew it.

He laughed, "Yeah, it is." He moved closer, his eyes bright. "Wanna know why?"

At your nod, he spoke. "When my mom was pregnant with me and my brother. She got kinda crunchy, got into healing crystals and tarot cards, stuff like that."

Hypnos waved a hand. "So when she couldn't pick names for us, she went to a psychic, who told her that she was a reincarnation of the goddess Nyx. And apparently she was pregnant again with the reincarnated gods of sleep and death."

You couldn't help the small laugh and Hypnos chuckled as he took a sip of his beer.

"Mom believed the guy." He pointed to himself, " So ta-da I got named Hypnos. And my brother is Thanatos."

"Your mom sounds like a fun lady." You played with your hair, enjoying the warmth in your stomach. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel such things.

"Oh definitely. I never know what I'm going to get when I see her." Hypnos said fondly.

When You shifted your seat, your leg brushed against his. You almost pulled away but Hypnos pressed his leg against yours. You could feel the heat of his body and it just made you want more.

His golden eyes searched yours, silently asking if he could do this. You returned the gentle pressure and flushed at his soft smile.

"How does your brother handle the whole Thanos name thing?" You asked, desperately trying to calm your racing heart.

A devious glint lit Hypnos' eyes, "Oh he hates it so much. He already hated the whole super hero thing. Last year for his birthday, I got him a cardboard cutout of the big guy. I thought he was going to shove it down my throat. I got his boyfriend Zagreus and their girlfriend Meg in on it this year, we going to -"

"Hey Y/N. Are you coming back to the floor?" Charlie's eyes narrowed, "Hypnos, I think your actual date is looking for you."

You pulled away, you had forgotten about Charlie and you couldn't help but feel some guilt, even if you didn't like them that much or at all.

Hypnos stayed in place, amusement on his face. You saw Charlie's fists clenched and knew they were about to start a fight and stood up.

You were definitely going to block Charlie's number after tonight was over.

"Come on, let's get some drinks for everyone. They should be coming back soon." You motioned for Charlie to follow you. They glared at Hypnos before following you.

You couldn't resist a quick glance back to Hypnos, who raised his beer at you in a 'cheers' motion.

💤☁️💤

Charlie was sullen and quiet as you ordered more drinks for the group. You couldn't blame them really, anyone would be put out when their dates are clearly having a better time with someone else.

Well, not Hypnos but Hypnos wasn't exactly normal, you thought fondly.

You tapped the bar, guilt gnawed at your guts as your thoughts went back to Hypnos.

"So what were you guys talking about?" Charlie slurred, his tone icy.

You took a breath, just a few more hours you reminded yourself. "Nothing much. Just about his brothers and stuff."

Charlie crowded into your space. You can smell the booze and sweat on them.

"You guys seemed like you were sitting pretty close considering you were talking about 'brothers'." They did a finger quote.

You rolled your eyes, unable to stand being near them any longer. You stepped away to head back to let your friends you were bailing for the night.

"Tell me what he said to you." Charlie demanded as they grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Ow, let go of me! You are hurting me, Charlie." You hissed, trying not to draw any attention.

"Tell me." They hisses back.

"I did. Buy your own drink, I'm going home." You tried to yank your hand away but they didn't let go.

"Look I've been nothing but nice to you and you're cuddling up to another guy on our date like some slut." They changed their tone, trying to sound more upset than controlling but it just made your stomach twisted in disgust.

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but after a moment you shut it, "You're right. Clearly this isn't going to work out so let me go."

"No, you own me something, Y/N." Charlie leaned toward you. "And I'm not leaving empty handed."

"Fuck off." You snapped, fear rising in your chest.

"Hey, man." Hypnos grabbed Charlie's wrist and squeezed tightly enough that they were forced to let go of your wrist. His normal light-hearted tone was hard. "I think Y/N had enough of your company tonight."

You took some steps back, shaking a little. Without looking at you, Hypnos asked. "Y/N, do you need to go get anything?"

"N-no. I have everything. I want to leave." You hated how weak you sounded and you wished that you never came out at all.

Hypnos held on to Charlie's wrist and yanked them toward him. You heard Hypnos murmur something to them.

Fear flashed over Charlie's face and they stumbled backward. "Fine. Whatever asshole."

Hypnos turned to you, his eyes darkened by his anger. "Come on, I can get you a ride home."

You just nodded, feeling very exhausted and close to tears.

💤☁️💤

The cold wind felt like heaven after the heat of the overflowing club. At least for the first two minutes.

You just walked, not quite sure where to go. Hypnos walked next to you, easily keeping up with your pace.

Neither one of you said anything as you tried to process the horrible night.

After walking for ten more minutes, Hypnos spoke up. "There is a park nearby, we should be able to find a park bench."

You just nodded, Hypnos offered an arm and after a moment you took it. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, soaking in his body heat.

The park was empty, lit by warm path lights.

"Thank you." You said. "You didn't have to do anything for me."

"It's all good. How about the wrist?" Hypnos asked softly.

"It doesn't hurt. Thank you since you stepped in." You patted his forearm.

Hypnos sighed, "No. Not thanks to me actually. Its kinda my fault, I've been pushing their buttons for most of the night."

You looked up at Hypnos, your brow furrowed. "What? No, they have been pretty rude since the start of the date. I mean, you heard the salad thing. They ordered it for me!"

Hypnos shook his head. His breath coming out in white puffs. "Yeah and because I was jealous, I made a bad date into a nightmare. I knew I was making them feel all threatened, it wasn't hard honestly. I didn't think they would grab you like that. I just thought they would be a bad date you could laugh about later."

It took you a moment to process his words. You stopped on the park path, staring off at the lake.

"You were jealous?" You asked, not quite believing what you were hearing.

"Very." Hypnos chuckled bitterly.

"Hypnos, you are an idiot." You said blankly.

He opened his mouth to say something but you pulled him down by his collar to kiss him.

At first, Hypnos doesn't return your kiss and you pull away, an apology already on your lips.

But he cupped your face and met you again in a sweet, slow kiss. He kept pulling away to press chaste kisses against your lips and cheeks.

"Damnit, I was planning on asking out you after our last class assignment. I had a plan for everything. I was going to take you to your favorite coffee shop and buy you that dumb drink you like. Take you the park by our dorms and ask you by the duck pond." Hypnos said between kisses and pressing one last long kiss against your lips.

You hummed, unable to think straight. "Our friend ruined that, huh." You laughed when you could feel him growled against your lips. "You have no idea, I had a speech and everything."

After another long and soft kiss, both of you pulled away only to met again in a forehead press. Your white puffs of breath mingled together and your heart felt so full.

"You could still do the coffee and the speech. And the ducks." You whispered.

"Yeah?" Hypnos asked softly, his thumb caressed your cheek.

"I have to do a lab with a very cute classmate tomorrow but I'm free after that." You flushed, pleased at the fond smile Hypnos had.

"That's funny, so am I." Hypnos replied.

Unable to hold off any longer, you pulled him into another kiss, one of the many yet to come.

#hypnos x reader #hades hypnos #fanfic #hope you enjoy #Spotify