#i spent over an hour putting on a kids shoes over and over

[sinon36]

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC - Part 2

Part I

Author's block and tummy aches don't make a great team. Apologies that it took some time to post this. Enjoy!

Warnings: none other than mistakes, it's fluff.

-

Being a primary school teacher is far from easy. From the endless hours spent correcting homework or grading tests to preparing visual materials, your work never ends. Maybe you should listen to your colleagues and double down on the work you put into this. But you can’t deny the satisfaction you get from seeing your students get excited in class even when you assign extra work for them over weekends and holidays. But now that you came down with the flu, another downside of working with kids, you couldn’t care less about the little punks.

You lay down in bed covered in the thickest of blankets, shivering and barely able to breath. The house is empty and you’ve never felt so alone. You wish Simon would walk through the door and snuggle you until everything is better again. He was deployed again, and in the past few months you managed to talk to him for a total of 10 minutes. He’d call you to check on you and let you know he was fine, but he’d be quick to tell you he can’t say more about his whereabouts.

Being married to him brought a hell of a lot more stress than you could have imagined. Not knowing where he was or what he did was eating you on the inside. You worried about your husband’s well being but you always reminded yourself not to pester him too much. His job is stressful as it is, no need for you to put anymore pressure on him when he was home. You painted an image of his coworkers through his brief comments on what they did on base. The most you heard about was the Scot, Johnny, the young lad had made an impression on Simon. Even though he’d complain that Johnny was a ‘pain in the arse’, you couldn’t miss the small chuckle he let out whenever he spoke of him. You concluded that this young Scottish man was the closest thing to a friend your husband had.

The clock on the nightstand reads 2AM. The fever and headache are back. Your body hurts everywhere. you stand up readying yourself to leave the warm cocoon of the blanket and go to the kitchen to make some tea and take some more medicine. The otherwise short trip to the other side of the house seems now like an endless maze, it’s dark and you can barely see; you keep one hand on the wall just to be safe if nausea takes the better of you. You take a seat at the dinner table as the kettle starts warming up.

There is a faint click at the front door, so soft that at first you believe you imagined it. But it turns out that it was real, that the sound was a key turning the lock and the knob twisted, and the door opened. You watch everything as in slow motion, your brain too fuzzy with the flu. The massive body dressed in all black walks in illuminated from behind by the street lights, leaving their shoes on the rack. It’s Simon…. He’s home but you don’t have the energy to move. In the still and quiet atmosphere of the house the bloody kettle lets out a blood curling whistle signalling the water is boiling. Simon’s eyes dart towards the kitchen space, not having noticed you until now.

  ‘What’re you doin’ in the dark, love?’ he chuckles coming over to you. He’s becoming suspicious when you don’t make a single move to get up and greet him as you would. He first reaches for the knob to turn off the stove, then he pulls off the balaclava, reaching down to your sited position to kiss your forehead. ‘You a bit warm…’ he hums and you nod sniffling your runny nose. The rest is a blur, you can faintly remember him pouring the tea for you and handing the medicine. Next thing you know strong arms carry you to the bedroom, the same arms you fall asleep until morning.

Simon is trained in the art of staying still no matter what waiting to get a clear shot of the enemy. But since he met you, that skill has been put to a better use. He had no qualms with becoming your body pillow over night. He just loves the feeling of you pressed so closely to him, head rested on his peck near his beating heart. He would gladly stay there for an eternity is you asked him.

Anything for you. Always, no matter how costly or how small, he’d do anything to see you happy. That’s his love language, while he struggles to word it he makes up with his actions. And you’d never trade him for anyone else in the world. The following days are spent with him not leaving your side, pampering and loving you the way you’ve never been loved before.

Once you feel better, he asks you to go on a date just like first time he asked you accepted with a school girl giggle. It’s safe to say you’re in love. The date goes well and you find yourself walking through the park like two hopeless romantics, talking and laughing. He tells you that Soap caught a whiff of him being married to you and now he won’t stop pestering him with questions about you two. ‘Maybe you should invite him to dinner… if you want to.’ You smile at him. ‘Maybe’ he grunts not looking at you. Bringing Johnny to your house, to meet you, it involves risks. But he knows that he can trust the sergeant with his life, so what if his only friend meets his wife. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Bonus:

On base, Ghost approaches Soap in the armoury, making sure no one is in ear shot. He gives the Scot a date, time and the name of a bus station somewhere in suburban Manchester. At Soap’s questioning look Ghost lets out a grunt ‘Wife wants you to come to dinner.’ At that Soap grins and accepts politely which prompts the lieutenant to threaten to kill him if he tells anyone about this.

The day when Johnny arrives at your doorstep comes faster than expected. You open the door and greet him, rather warmly which is a stark contrast to your husband’s harsh demeanour. Opposites do attract, he supposes. At dinner you listen to him talk, about their time on base, stories from missions, nothing too detailed though, and about his own family. He shows you pictures of his sisters and his nieces and nephews. They’re cute. You talk about your pupils, sharing stories of your own. Johnny perks up at the knowledge that you are a primary school teacher. He asks if he can have your number in case he needs help with their homework. You gladly give it to him, asking in return to keep an eye on Simon for you. He accepts your deal.

Johnny leaves after a couple of hours, going back to the hotel, even though you insist he can take the couch. But you know that Simon is glaring at him over your shoulder daring him to accept. Once he left you turn towards your husband hugging him and kissing him. You thank him for letting you meet his colleague, and he reminds you that he’d do anything for his lovely wife.

A couple of weeks go by. You’re in bed with Simon having a heated kissing session when your phone rings. Groaning you pull off from him and grab it. Johnny’s name lights up the screen and you answer. The conversation is short, something about math and how to use the graphic method to solve a problem. Simon listens intently seeing you smile conspiratorially. When you end the call, he grabs you and pushes you underneath him, trapping you between his body and the bed. ‘Why does Johnny have your number?’ the low rumble pulls a laugh from you. You know you have no chance to lie to him, he’ll see right through. You explain to him that he wanted it so he can ask you whenever he doesn’t know how to solve his nephews’ homework. He watches you not really convinced by your answer. ‘You hate talking to parents on the phone. What did you get him do? Spy on me on base and report back to you?’ Busted. You laugh and let out an even more unconvincing ‘no’ for an answer. He knows you too well.

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #shi #shinnochiwrites

[theood]

while im in an oversharing mood last time my baby cousin was over I heard a phrase yelled at her from upstairs and I haven't had that level of a panic attack start to set in as quick as it did since I was in school!

People who know know. My breathing was fucked and I dipped in my parents room and no amount of telling myself to get a fucking hold of us was working B)

#i got a distraction enough but I was on edge for a while after that bc it really was just like I got put back into little mes shoes and we #were being yelled at again for not reacting perfectly like how people wanted #At the time of yelling for my baby cousin the mindset I was having could have been comparable 2 when id be locked in my room or sent away #and screaming I was sorry for whatever wasn't being talked over and I would be ignored until I calmed down #once I was throwing literally throwinf written apologies and sobbing and being continually ignored bc I acted out poorly #younger me had. he had a lot of big boy emotions as a little kid and no one dealt with it right you know? it wasn't my fault but I was lead #to it. bc I was being a brat. always always a brat. #I would get told that through closed teeth and being grabbed hard by my mom usually a lot growing up #fun fact though the way I apologize now and how I handle upsetting people is directly bc I was severely ignored in childhood! No I don't do #well with conflict thanks for noticing #I do really bad with it. I had a thing happen with a friend once and I spent hours screaming and belittling myself bc I was convinced I was #the bad guy and fucked up another good thing (bc I was led 2 feed that thought pattern early) and I convinced myself I wasn't good for him #it got solved fine but I was NOT nice to myself at all

[confused-wanderer]

Batkids all missed out on their childhoods, Bruce included. Give me them trying normal kid things for the first time in their lives and going crazy

Like Jason seeing a kid have one of those fake phones where you have to press buttons and water pushes the rings floating on the screen onto the poles, and he can’t get it out of his head for the next few days until Bruce gifts it to him one day. He doesn’t know how the old man knew, Jason’s still not used to Bruce’s I don’t know how to express affection here’s a gift for you but hey, he wasn’t complaining. Jason picks up the phone, and he’s hooked. He carries it around with him everywhere and it’s now become his comfort thing.

Or when the whole family went out to a night tour and saw the light up sticks. They all spent hours fencing with each other and just enjoying how bright the lights flashed. And when someone showed them the lights could flash and change colours? They. Lost. Their. Damn. Minds.

Jason gets Dick a pair of light up sneakers as a joke, but somehow the older boy fell in love with it. He didn’t know they lit up at first, wondering why Jason had a smug grin on his face when he put then on. But the look on his face when he saw the colors, the lights all flashing was one that Jason would never forget. It was a look of surprise, followed by an expression of such pure joy and excitement Jason could’ve sworn he felt his heart melt. Dick refused to get his shoes dirty, only wearing them on special occasions or when he was genuinely happy and showing them off to everyone, constantly stomping and jumping around to see them flash.

Stephanie? Stephanie accidentally walked over one of those roll up pianos and jumped back when she heard the music play. It’s now her favourite accessory in her home and she has many more instruments and customised musical rugs in her home (courtesy of Barbara). It’s one of her favourite things in life.

Damian somehow got addicted to Club Penguin after Tim introduced him to it. He spent hours hooked on that game, saving every puffle he could and collecting them. After the game vanished for the internet, he was so distraught he refused to eat his meal for four days straight. This ended after a new version somehow made its way onto Damian’s laptop. Tim will never admit till his dying breath that he brought the game back just for Damian.

#batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #headcanons #stephanie brown #spoiler #robin

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's so frustrating is how often the arguments against us are actually happening to us. we said - you need to watch out, this will evolve into allowing fascism into legal statute. and we were told: you're a sensitive snowflake. you're annoying and stupid and have no concept of reality. nobody really believes that stuff.

but it's indoctrination for kids to even see queer people. it's grooming for kids to even be around queer people. it's disgusting to even put rainbows on kids clothes. it's inappropriate, shameful, still-an-argument. like any of this is new - we know already. for you, even seeing someone unashamed is the same thing as "forcing" it onto you. because god-forbid you confront any internal thought you have. because god-forbid you practice empathy. rage is better, i guess. it keeps you pretty.

this has always been the way of some people - a while ago, it would have been "sinful" for my white mom to marry my hispanic dad. once, in the year of our lord 2015, someone told me that "mutts" deserve a woodchipper. that one particular insult stayed with me - not because it was the first or last, but because there was something so unbelievably violent about it that i couldn't figure out how to hold it. the idea that someone is so assured of their bigotry and rage that they would paint this kind of a picture. even jokingly, even with the anonymity of the internet, it kind of centered things for me. a sense that, for some people, their rage burned so unimaginably large that it blocked even the basic fact of my humanity.

at one point, while i still had enough fire in me to get into long arguments, one of the bigots i was "debating" (being harassed by) said: to be honest, it's about the sex, not the love. between you, me, and the four walls of this blue hellsite, i actually didn't really care for "love is love" as the slogan of our community. it seemed so placid, so gentle, so ally-focused. where was the vitriol? where was the hours i spent agonizing over myself? where was the quiet moments of my life, filled with the sound of other people's hatred? this static that settles over everything; even for the action of holding her hand.

the world is unfair. i am an adult, and without the veneer and small-pond syndrome of my teenage years, the slogan has started sounding more desperate. the more places i went, the more people i met. love is love. love is defending him on a rooftop bar. the drink she throws at me goes down into my shoes while i stand there, wishing i had a better retort than what the fuck. love is both of us, keeping our heads down, the black SUV full of frat boys (?) pulled up next to us, howling, for five whole blocks, until we both gave up and had to stick our bare legs into the thicket by the side of the road, giving over into tick country rather than let it go on any longer. love is a lazy spring afternoon, my hand on her belly, the fan spinning overhead. did you hear the whole thing about target?

did you hear about being the target? that's a fun little parallel, isn't it. it almost feels like the game that-is-about-me is being played without-my-participation. someone wants to set fire to my life, and i have to wait for a response from a capitalist institution. i am watching a tiktok where a white woman under white lights complains about adult swimsuits, even though i think a lot of people would benefit from having swimming options that are not "instagram-inspired bikini" or "impossible to move in but otherwise pretty".

sometimes it just seems so fucking stupid. like, just to check, the rage you feel and the hatred - you could really just avoid all of that by minding your fucking business. sometimes (and this is true): it's not about you, and people don't need your permission. like, i don't understand any obsession with sports, but it seems to make other people happy. american football literally results in grievous bodily injury - and yet there are onesies for babies that say future quarterback. i personally don't love it, so i just don't buy that stuff. i walk by it, and don't let it bother me. there have been so, so, so many times that i was told - "so what if he's a little bit homophobic, if you don't like him, don't watch his movies." "so what if they fired her. don't buy their product." "so what if they wouldn't make a rainbow cake. just don't support them."

sometimes i feel the meaning of it scud against my body, an orca whale inside of me, threatening the boat. it is too large to see from my place; this shadow of a thing that dwarfs my petty other-concerns. i need to find a dress for an event, and florida is passing more anti-gay legislation. i need to text my friend back and confirm our plans, and someone is throwing beer bottles to the floor in a walmart because a different case had rainbows on them. it is a long fall, if i look down into it; this sense like the bottom doesn't exist. like i have only ever dipped my toes in.

sometimes i am unbelievably tired of talking about it. it feels like it has become too trite in my own poetry - queer writer complains about the state of the world! how original! - and then something else happens, and i am here again. i remember that it isn't a moment. i remember it isn't a scattered population of cartoon evil-doers, intent on world domination from behind handlebar mustaches. it is a concerted effort of real people with real power who really-do want to see my end. it is a lifetime of dodging the beercan as it sails out of the back of the van. it is a lifetime of not-kissing once we leave the apartment. it is a lifetime of watching someone protest our existence and then, very slowly, giving them the finger. it is a lifetime of holding my friends' hands and hearing the same agony in their life that i lived through. it is us, together, our faces turned upwards, the night sky so vast, milky way overhead like a lacework zipper.

it is a lifetime of staring down woodchippers.

#writeblr #this got away from me #i love you #whereever you are. u are mine. i am yours. i am sorry this is happening

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #robin buckley #enemies to lovers #roommates au #roommates

[doc-pickles]

sick day | mat barzal

summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family

warnings: throwing up, so much fluff

a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!

xoxo

nina

Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.

“Hey baby, we just landed.”

“Mat don’t come home.”

Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.

“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“

“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”

Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”

“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

+

Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”

Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.

When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”

You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”

You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.

When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.

“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.

“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”

You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.

The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.

When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.

“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.

The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.

When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”

“But I-“

“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.

You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.

“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”

“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”

As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.

#mat barzal #Mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #Mat barzal fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nina writes

[beautifullytrvgic]

Welcome To The Neighborhood

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Playing Dangerous - Lana Del Rey" 0:50 ━━━━●───── 04:57 ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡

ღpairing: Toji Fushiguro x AFAB! reader | modern AU

ღwarnings: NSFW!! (minors DNI) , encouragement, praise, pet names, age gap, d!lf Toji, v!rgin Y/N

''Looking at me, then suddenly.. I'm in love, I'm in love, lovin' hurricane''

ღword count: 4.3k

ღ a/n: I DID IT YALL !! First-ever fic and smut DONE! I hate degradation so I made him kinda sweet? hope that's still ok! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!! | divider by menschenopfer 

𓆸 summary: You decide to visit your new neighbor with a welcome gift and it seems like he caught your eye.. and you his.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the kitchen countertops as you sighted to yourself, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. You didn't know how many hours you'd spent baking the cheesecake brownies that were in front of you, each square placed perfectly inside a basket with a white handmade bow on it- a nice welcome gift for the new neighbor next door, you mused. It was the morning when you started baking.. which only meant you'd spent pretty much all of your day. Great. Quickly, you walked over to the sink and turned the faucet lever up to wash your hands, which like your apron, had a little bit of flour. As you did so, you checked the clock on the pale yellow wall in front of you. It was exactly 5 PM, the perfect time. You glanced at the window which was near the clock, slightly balancing your body to the side. You could see the house in front of yours with the lights on, meaning the neighbor was home- probably finishing unpacking. Soon after his car, a black Ford, was seen parked on the outside of his home's garage a few days prior, a bunch of whispers started to arise about his arrival- that he was divorced with a kid whom he lost custody to, that he looked scary, that he wasn't the friendliest guy and that no one knew anything about him- he wasn't on the internet, social media, nothing (again, from what you've heard. Not like you've done any research yourself). Well, the only thing that was for certain known about him was his name- Toji. You repeated the name mentally, a note so that you'd remember it and not embarrass yourself.

Despite it all, you were determined to extend a warm welcome nonetheless since at the end of the day, rumors were just rumors and it isn't like he's secretly a serial killer, right? Forcing an enthusiastic smile, you placed your hair up in a messy bun and walked to your bedroom, grabbing the first shoes you could see on the floor before sitting down on the edge of your bed and putting them on. Once you finished, you walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed your keys, placed them inside one of the pockets of your apron, and gently grabbed the basket of brownies. Soon enough, you walked outside and locked the front door.

You made your way to the neighbor's doorstep, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. He'd accept the gift, right? I mean, who wouldn't? As you approached his front door under the archway, you swiped your apron in a swift motion, trying to remove the remains of the flour so that you'd look at least presentable. With a soft knock on the wooden door, your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, waiting for someone to come out. However, there was nothing. Not a single sound. Your eyes, which now carried a confused expression, searched for a doorbell but you rapidly realized there was none. In response, you gently placed your head against the door as you tried to listen for any sign of movement before knocking again, except louder this time. Maybe he wasn't home and forgot to turn the lights off? After a few moments later, however, you heard some heavy footsteps coming closer and closer, making you step back onto the small rug on the stone tiled floor. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a man with striking features and piercing eyes. He seemed to be in his mid 30's and was tall- really tall, so you raised your head and glanced at him up and down. He was brawny and had straight black hair, wore a black tank top and some black jeans, seemed a bit sweaty. You realized how long you've been staring in silence when he moved, placing his hands on his hip and giving you a curious look with his dark blue eyes. Oops. You blinked, recalling why you were there in the first place before your eyes trailed downwards, realizing you were still holding the basket of brownies. Right, the brownies!

"Toji?" you asked, offering a tentative smile and your friendliest tone of voice.

The man raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "That's me." He responded in a nonchalant manner before crossing his arms and slightly leaning no the side of the door. "You need somethin’?” Toji stared into your eyes. His voice sounded slightly lyrical yet had a bit of roughness to it. Wasn't really what you expected him to sound like, which caught you a bit off guard.

The truth is, he really didn't expect anyone to visit him or to see a sight like you when he opened the door. A little lady wearing an apron over her dress, a bit covered with flour, wearing a bun, holding a basket? Unexpected, yes. But, I mean, it's not like he was bothered by it. In fact, you could say it was quite the opposite.

You cleared your throat, holding out the basket that was open so that he could see the inside. He peeked inside for some moments before looking at you again, the same stare as before. "I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood," you said, sounding more awkward than confident. At that moment, His gaze slowly softened as he took the basket from your hands, rough and soft fingers meeting with each other only for seconds before they parted, a hint of a smile starting to grow in the corners of his lips where a small scar lay. You had the urge to ask him how he got it, but of course, you refrained from it as you didn't want to sound disrespectful. Despite this though, you really couldn't help but look fixedly at it. Toji wasn't stupid, so he may have noticed. Probably.

''Ah, ain't that thoughtful of you.'' He said, sniffing the inside of the basket before stepping inside his home, extending his arm to motion you to follow him with his fingers. "Come on in," He chimed. And so, that's what you did- followed him into the living room, taking in the ambiance of his home as your eyes looked around. It seemed recently unpacked like you guessed before, and it was spacious; had a modern style to it, low lighting, simple but fancy. All the furniture had a black-and-white color palette, but the lamps placed on the floor and in the open kitchen emitted a warm glow, giving the place a more homey feeling. It was the home you'd expect a rich CEO or a bigshot lawyer to live in. You turned slowly to see the basket placed on his dinner table and Toji staring at you in a way you couldn't quite describe. He was leaning against the kitchen's isle, one of his hands lightly rubbing his hair while the other rested on the edge of the black-marbled surface. As he let out a small chuckle, what was a hint of a smile turned into a full one. "I finished unpacking a few minutes before you came. Looks good, doesn't it?" he asked, though it sounded more like a spoken fact than an actual question. He walked further into the kitchen, turning his back on you as you answered.

"Yeah, it does" you replied honestly, walking to the isle and gently taking one of the 3 white stools and sitting on it. You stared at him as he opened a kitchen cupboard and took some items out, placing them on the counter in front of him. Watching him from behind made you realise how brawny he truly was. The man seemed to take care of his body like a vessel, which was kinda admirable. Before you could continue your trail of thought, he spoke again. "Tea or Coffee? I don't expect to eat all the brownies by myself, y'know." he said in a teasing tone as his head and body turned to look at you. Now you could see the items in front of him- two dark blue cups with a tiny spoon inside on each, a box with white sugar packages and another with sweetner, a container with coffee, and an opened wooden box which had tea packages inside. In response, you smiled at him and leaned to take a better look. "[your choice] is fine" You answered before he walked over to the table, grabbed the basket of brownies and went back to the spot he was standing on to open another cupboard and grab two tiny white plates. A few moments later he turned around fully for you to see that he intended for both of you to sit on his couch- walking over to it with the two plates with brownies. "You can sit wherever you want, I don't mind." he told you as ge walked back to bring the cups. "Oh- yeah, thanks" You stood up and walked to the couch before sitting comfortably on it before he joined you, sitting next to you and placing the cups on the white table in front of you, steam coming from the cups as the drinks were just prepared. He let out a small sigh, his arms resting on the back of the couch. "So, you haven't told me your name yet." He said, the last words sounding more like a tiny chuckle. Your eyes widened, a small awkward "ah" escaping from your mouth. Oops. "Right- sorry! I forgot." you said, gently brushing some hair strands out of your face. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N.." he repeated in almost a mere murmur, eyes shrinking a little bit and smirk of his disappearing. You weren't sure why, but he seemed to stop for a second, thinking for some moments as if your name was some sort of surreal and magical thing or unreal beauty. His gaze met yours as he spoke again. "You have a pretty name." he said. You felt butterflies rising in your stomach, a smile forming on your lips as you quickly looked to the other side, unable to meet his eyes for some moments. You didn't know if it was because of the way he said it, how he looked like while saying it, or because you never got complimented about it in the first place. But those simple words coming out of his mouth were enough to make you feel like this. "Thank you." you said almost breathlessly. You wondered if he noticed the effect he had on you at that moment, but to your surprise, it seemed like he didn't.

Both of you started to talk about each other, and you told him a little bit about you- how you recently moved away from your parent's constant grip on you, how you were attending university and finally free. You talked and talked about your special interests, hobbies, favorite movies, and tv shows, and whenever you would start wondering if you were annoying him, he let you know that he was in the moment, he was listening and he cared- all with his gaze and subtle movement of his head as if telling you to "keep going, don't stop, I'm invested. I care." He also told you about himself- turned out the rumors were right on the divorce and kid situation. He separated from his ex-wife a few months before and had lost custody of his only son, Megumi, after she tried so hard to make Toji look bad and won. All he could do was see his son every once in a while with supervised visits. He didn't have any other family apart from him, but he was coping- moved to the town you lived in and decided to start again. You told him how bad you felt for him, that you'd be there if he ever needed anyone to talk to, and he appreciated it.

You quickly switched the topic, trying to lighten the mood in the room. As both of you kept talking, you started to notice some things- the way he had this.. interesting demeanor around him, the way he paid complete attention and focus when you spoke and maintained eye contact, the way he spoke so smoothly yet carried this rasp with it. You didn't want to look like a creep, but he was just.. different. He seemed different. Of course, you didn't want him to notice the way you were starting to look at him, the way your eyes sometimes trailed off to his lips, how you sometimes found yourself playing with your nails nervously. Every time you liked someone, it always ended up in you having a broken heart. You never dated anybody, never kissed, never held hands. All of that was just a dream- something you'd read in a romance book or watched on the TV. Every single guy didn't seem to like something about you, there was always something that prevented them from seeing you in another light. "You're too chubby" "You're not my type" "I'm not interested in dating right now".. always alone, always the ugly friend or the comedic relief but never the pretty one. Besides, throwing yourself to a recently divorced man, an older man who had a kid, wasn't the most morally correct thing to do. You weren't that desperate, that low, that- "Hi, what."

A voice suddenly interrupted you. Toji's voice. He was staring at you, arms crossed. He was trying to figure you out, trying to understand the expression you had on your face, what were you thinking about for so long that you didn't realize you'd been staring directly into his eyes with an almost dreamy look for the past 15 minutes. "Hm?" you asked, blinking as if you'd just woken up from a long dream, staring confused. Shit shit shit. "Stop looking at me like that." He said with a tone that was so monotone it was hard to read. Was he angry? Puzzled? Happy? You didn't know. Your eyes widened, fingers fidgeting with each other as you attempted to act natural, to make him think it was all in his imagination. Yeah, that would work. "Like wwhat?" You asked with a kind smile, maintaining eye contact to show confidence, though you stammered in the middle. He sighed and looked at you up and down so quickly you didn't even notice he did. "Like that, like you're waitin' for something." He continued, making a motion with his head towards you as if stating the obvious- which pretty much was with the way you were acting. "Keep looking at me like that and see where that gets you."

You didn't move, you didn't stop looking at him. You probably looked so pathetic right now, so strange- but you didn't know how to respond, lips parting as if wanting to say something, to tell him he was being delusional, but that would be a lie. Instead, only a short breath came out, no words. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, shaking his head a little as he stared to the side, placing a hand over his eyes. Fuck, you angered him, didn't you? He probably wouldn't speak to you ever again. He was probably thinking about you immature you were, how desperate, how much of a creep you were. "C'mere." Those were the last words you heard before his lips crashed into yours, bodies coming together and becoming one on that couch, one of his strong hands cradling the back of your head while the other brought you closer to him by pulling on your cute little apron, sitting you on his lap as if you weighted like a feather. You didn't squirm away, nor did you want to as you felt his lips travel to your neck and give it soft pecks. You almost felt hypnotized, in a lucid dream except for the sole fact that this was real, this was happening. Both of you forgot about the brownies. "Shit- you really want this?" He asked, lips leaving your neck as he stared at you. He was serious, asking you for permission before going any further as he held you. You nodded, bringing your lips to his and giving him a kiss. "Yes." And so, that was all he needed to hear.

You didn't exactly remember how you ended up sitting on the edge of the marbled kitchen isle, back arched and eyes shut close while you felt his lips and tongue explore your body and what felt like your soul, giving your neck, collarbone, arms, hands and then legs tiny little kisses and then bites and licks that made you part your lips and sigh as he moved lower and lower in a way that was so, oh, so painfully slow. In a swift motion, he lifted your dress and removed your white panties as he stood in front of you. You heard him say something, but he spoke in a whisper so you couldn't quite catch what he said. He placed the panties next to you and stared at you, breath hitching as if he'd just seen the most beautiful thing on earth. His arms held you on your hips, giving them a small squeeze. "Spread those legs for me." He ordered in a tone that was gentle yet firm. And of course, that's exactly what you did, spread them a little as your legs started to shake with a mix of nervousness and excitement, not knowing what would happen next. He seemed to notice because his eyes trailed down before meeting your eyes again. "Relax, let me take care of you." You felt like a cat got your tongue, so all you could do was nod before he kissed your legs, then your inner thighs, and then your cunt, giving it all his attention as he kissed and then You suddenly tensed in response to the unusual feeling, a soft gasp escaping your mouth. It felt so strange yet so good, an uncontrollable feeling of warmth and pleasure you couldn't quite put a name to. However, that stopped as he moved away to look at you. "You're so tense.." He said, voice trailing off and eyes looking to the side before they widened with a hint of realization. "You've done this before, right?" He asked, tone dead serious as he waited for an answer, mouth getting farther from your body yet his hands still holding you.

You quickly opened your eyes widely and you cursed yourself out in your mind. You should have told him you're a virgin the moment he started kissing you, but you didn't. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't. He seemed to understand your point because he took a step behind and brushed his hair back "Fuck, I should have asked before I.." he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around. You sat up, closing your legs. "But I want to, I told you" you started, but he raised a hand before making a 'no' motion with one of his fingers, turning to stare at you. "Look, girls your age should be with boys their age. And besides, haven't your parents or friends told you your first time should be special and all of tha-" you suddenly cut him off, voice as firm as his. "boys my age don't look at me. And this is special to me." You said, crossing your arms. You didn't flinch when saying this, you truly meant every single word. He made a 'tch' sound and just stared at you for some moments, thinking. "Please?" You asked, naturally making a tiny little pout as you waited for his response. That seemed to convince him because as soon as you said that, he moved closer to you and used his hands to spread your legs before gently pushing you so that your back lay against the surface, him now standing between your legs. You gave him a silent thank you, and he kissed your inner thigh as a 'your welcome'. "Still, if you really want to do this, we're gonna have to do this a little differently." He whispered, taking a deep breath against your cunt, making your breath hitch. You gave him a small nod, and he started to slowly lick you again. Your hands found his hair, which you grabbed as you felt the unusual feeling of pleasure start to rise, eyes closing and lips parting with nothing but a breathless moan coming out of you. It felt so good, his tongue parting your folds and finding your sensitive clit as you wanted to close your legs but couldn't as he had a firm grip on them. ''ah- Toji..'' you moaned as he sucked and kissed, sucked and kissed and repeated while you squirmed beneath him, because of him. To say the view wasn't pretty would be the biggest lie he could ever tell- he was falling for you, he thought you were beautiful and the fact he was the one that was taking away your innocence.. he didn't want to admit how much that turned him on. He wanted you to feel pretty, to see yourself the way he was seeing you, to understand how fucking adorable you were. And so, with each lick, he gave you silent praises- that you were gorgeous, that you were doing so good for him. And he meant every word. He really did. ''I'm gonna put a finger inside, yeah?'' he whispered, almost out of breath as his hand moved to your clit, softly tapping on it before it moved to your pretty little hole. You gave him a quick yes, and slowly and carefully, his finger entered you. You made a small gasp both out of the sudden pain and pleasure, a reaction that was expected considering this was your first time. ''You alright?'' he asked you. He wanted you to be comfortable, he wanted to limit your pain as much he could. ''Yeah..yeah i'm okay.'' you replied. You wanted him to continue, and that's exactly what he did.

As his finger slid in and out of you slowly but starting to pick up a pace, you started to feel a burning heat inside, a rising pleasure so sharp your squirming grew and your moans became louder. You opened your mouth to speak, but only moans came out. Of course, he knew what that meant. And so, he started going faster, becoming more aggressive. Your legs were shaking, trying to close themselves when they couldn't, Toji's free hand caressing them as he kept going and going. And then- it happened. You felt free, released- as if the weight you had in your belly, the pressure, was leaving you. It felt so otherworldly, nothing compared to the feeling. Your breath quickened, toes curling and mouth opened as breathless moans escaped your lips. You simply weren't in control of your body anymore, or at least it felt like it. Toji watched your reactions as he grabbed one of your hands and kissed your knuckles softly, content with the fact he was the one making you react this way, making you feel pleasure like this for the first time ever. ''There you go, dove.'' he whispered as you calmed down, caressing your hand as a smirk started to form on his lips. ''That's a good girl.'' A smile immediately appeared on your lips, the heat on your body increasing even more as you heard his words. He had a way of speaking that he for sure knew what he was doing, and he wasn't shy about it. You liked that. You liked him, and in this moment, you could even say you loved him- though..that would probably be a bit too soon. He looked at you for some moments, simply admiring you. You looked beautiful- legs spread out, skin a bit red with the blush that had appeared, your cute dress up to your stomach. Truly divine.

A few moments later, you heard the noise of hands unbuckling a belt, his belt, dropping it to the floor and opening a plastic wrapper before taking off his boxers. He gently grabbed your legs, placed them comfortably over his shoulder as he gave them kisses. You knew what was about to happen, or at least thought you did, and you were ready. You were ready for him, willing to give your own soul for him at this point. He moved close to you until his lips were next to your ear so you could listen to him warn what he was about to do. Last chance, he said, before it was too late. You didn't move. You wanted him. And so, as careful and slow as he could, he slid his cock inside of you. He grunted as you tightened around him, and you moaned out his name, trying not to shout at that exact moment. He was big- huge even compared to you, but it felt fucking amazing, for both of you. Toji had to control every inch of his being not to fuck you restlessly right there, not to mark you so much that no man would ever dare to touch you, just him. You could say that, in that moment, he loved you. He started moving, sliding in an out of you as he took your virginity and claimed your body and soul. You were his, and he was yours. He groaned, moaning your name and like before, praising you. ''Look at me'' he ordered as he started to pick up his pace, gently using his thumb to lift your chin up. He wanted to see every reaction you made. ''There you go, you're taking me so well, hm?'' he praised between movement. As you started to feel the now familiar heat inside your tummy, you closed your eyes shut. ''Toji.. I..'' he started fucking you faster, kissing your cheek in response ''I know, m'too.'' he grunted. You almost clawed on his hand as you grabbed it tightly- you were so, so close. He kept going, in and out, in and out, in and out and repeat until both of you saw stars, until both of you collapsed together as one, as if you were no longer you- but Toji was you and you were Toji. And so, both of you had become one.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut

[wnobin]

BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au

pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader

genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.

series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.

series masterlist | 08: triple dog dare

it had been two weeks since anton had run into you in the dorms, where you built up the courage to give him a friendly wave and in return, got back a blank stare. you thought it was weird but you didn’t dwell on it too much, forgetting about it after spending a few hours at your brother’s dorm, sharing snacks with him and his roommate, sungchan while sharing stories about how your first semester was.

on the other hand, anton could not stop thinking about that incident. he kept trying to convince himself that maybe you were just bringing food to one of your friends, and not a boyfriend. he would lay in bed at night, searching your name on every social media platform in hopes of finding your account to confirm his suspicions on whether you were single or not. unsurprisingly, he couldn’t find anything about you online. you and him had zero mutual friends and he only knew of your first name so the only way he could get ahold of your social media would be to ask you for it in person. anton didn’t know whether to give up or keep pining over you from afar but he decided that he would at least try to make conversation with you before the semester comes to an end.

he was currently running over to class, japanese 101 to be specific, when he saw a familiar bag with an orange cat keychain hanging from it, recognising it as yours. he had never been late enough to end up being in the hallways at the same time as you but he couldn’t find the right side of his sneakers, the reason being due to a half-asleep sohee accidentally leaving the dorm in mismatched shoes in his haste to make it for his 8am photography class. in addition to being late too, anton was wearing one white shoe and one black shoe, all thanks to his roommate.

anton remembered the second lesson where he made it seem like he didn’t want you to sit with him by putting his bag on the empty seat next to him. together with the incident in the dorms two weeks ago, he probably gave off the impression that he had something against you. in an attempt to change whatever view you had of him, anton mustered up all his courage and sped up until he was beside you.

you didn’t expect anyone else to be in the hallway at the same time as you, due to the fact that you were always late and showing up minutes after the class had already started. you heard the sound of footsteps approaching you and you turned your head only to be met by a nervous-looking anton waving to you.

“so you do know how to wave.” you jokingly teased, anton’s ears going bright red as he was about to start stuttering out an apology for that day but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself further. “i’m kidding! nice shoes you’re wearing today.” you gave him a small smile as you both entered the classroom, heading to your seats.

anton had only ever seen you smile once before, which was when you were talking about your beloved pet cat. anton felt giddy just from a 30 second interaction and he knew he would be on cloud nine for the rest of the week. “c’mon tell me! what were you two talking about? you talked to her, right? considering you both came in at the same time. i saw her smile at you!” he couldn’t even be annoyed by seunghan’s incessant questioning, simply choosing to ignore the other who was grabbing onto his arm and shaking him back and forth.

anton had spent majority of the lesson spaced out, barely writing down any notes and instead, spent the time doodling hearts in his notebook. the only time prof won caught his attention was when he announced the next assignment.

“i’ll be assigning everybody a project on japanese poems, your task is to analyse it and write a report on it. you’ll be working in pairs and before you ask, no you cannot choose your partner.”

with how well everything was going today, anton had his fingers and toes crossed that the stars in the universe would align and prof won would somehow read his mind and pair you and anton up together.

“i’ll be reading out the pairs now so do listen up carefully because i’m only going to say it once. jungwon and hanni. seunghan and chenle.”

“what? no!” seunghan whined, not wanting to be partnered up with the guy he sat next to for one day, that day being the first and last time he ever sat with chenle, who kept farting during the lesson. the chinese student turned around and gave seunghan a big smile, who in return could only muster out a half smile and give him a thumbs up. anton would have burst out laughing at how dejected his friend looked but currently he was too busy trying to communicate with prof won telepathically. me and y/n please please please please.

“anton and ricky. y/n and jayoon.”

anton let his head fall onto the desk with a soft thud, disappointed that staring straight at prof won didn’t help his chances to get paired up with you. now he had one more thing to worry about. he didn’t even know who ricky was. he only remembered that he was a foreign student from china and he showed up in a suit for the only two classes he bothered to attend.

while anton was going through the five stages of grief all at once, you didn’t actually mind your pairing. you weren’t close to yoon but you and her had short conversations sometimes, talking about how hard the homework was or how prof won’s bald spot seemed to be growing bigger. before the lesson ended, you handed your phone to her to get her to type her contact in. witnessing the sight as he was packing up, anton muttered, “that should be me…”

“yeah whatever at least you don’t have a fart machine as a partner.”

taglist (closed due to the limit!): @andromedawillburyyou @imsiriuslyreal @beckiiee00 @dreamiestay @babigriin @kyusqult @eumppappaswife @sserafilms @annswwa @lecheugo @llearlert @nyuoqi @thesunoosshining @yangasm @mmsriza @myizhuos @miyawakiblossoms @hyucksdelicate @ilovejungwonandhaechan @snowyseungs @soobiary @ilovejaketoomuch @cla1r20 @darlingz99 @chiiyuuvv @lilacarat @ohmykwonsoonyoung @sonjuyeonnie @nicholasluvbot @haechology @luvnicho @numberonetaleprince @addores @revehosh @jscvhs @istphanie @b-riize @miszes @shnnzsworld @ppoddorii @cowsmicwu

if i didn’t tag you, please check your account settings > visibility!

#riize x reader #riize #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize smau #anton lee #riize anton #riize anton x reader #riize sungchan #riize shotaro #riize scenarios #riize wonbin #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize eunseok #anton smau #anton fluff #anton imagines #anton #anton x reader #anton scenarios

[nanaminsmoon]

hiiii, so sorry if this is a lil long but bare w me pls, i love ur writing btw <3

ok: reader & plug!ony broke up about a year ago bc of something ony did (something bad but not like 100% unforgivable) but the feelings never left. he’s been tryna get her back over the year but she wasn’t budging cus she hadn’t seen any growth. recently tho she’s noticed he’s growing & she misses him. then at a function, she sees him pop out w a new girl & all their friends are staring at her like waiting for a reaction and in a littleee moment of jealousy, she goes up to ony like “you’re mine for life right?” and he jumps away from the other girl so fast like he BEEN waiting on this news 😭😭

omg thank you!! i was about to write something just like this but this is so much better!! i hope you like it and i'm sorry it took so long i just wanted it to be okay😭

cw: kinda angsty, oral (f receiving), car sex, ony calls reader 'ma', n word usage, mentions of breeding.

wc: 3913

atonement is hardly ever easy, and ony knew that first-hand. closing the gap between you and the person you once held closest to you can, surprisingly, be very difficult. even if a year of ‘separation’ is spent showing up at your ex-lovers’ door, or workplace, nail tech, or hair lady’s house. sometimes getting back to where you once where is needlessly difficult. especially if your definitions of said place are vastly different.

from the outside looking in, you and ony’s relationship had been picture perfect. he loved you as much as you loved him, and he wasn’t shy about it. everyone knew not to even look at you wrong, because they knew that they would have ony to deal with—and no one fucked with ony’s girl. except for him. because that picture had been held by a fraudulent frame; purposely hung over the large dent in your relationship. that being, his occupation.

from small kickbacks, to rich white kids who want to snort rebellion off their house keys, everyone had one thing in common—ony. no party started until ony got there and, as happy as you were for him, that didn’t come without its burdens. ony was almost always out dealing, giving you very little quality time to hang out. on the few occasions you got his undivided attention for more than a few hours, your peace would be interrupted by the ear-splitting noise erupting from his stupid nokia burner phone.

of course, small huffs of disappointment would slip past your lips when he told you that he had to leave. but you were used to it now, and that’s what helped ony sleep at night; knowing that you had become inured to his disconcerting disappearances, and abrupt reappearances. you knew that other people needed him, even if it meant that your needs were temporarily pushed aside. one time you had asked him, why it always had to be him that they called, and his response had been:

”my shit is the best, ma.”, said through a chortle, as he put his shoes on by your front door.

”i get that, but what about me?”, your arms crossed, as you tilted your head at your man—ony’s weakness. once you did that, with that look in your eyes, he couldn’t say no to you. but tonight, his priorities were different.

just let me do what i gotta do, and i’ll come right back to you. then i’m yours for the whole night.”, he had reassured, kissing your temple.

”just for the night?”, you scoffed.

”for life. now stay here, and i’ll be back.”, and that would appease you for the evening. but there’s only so much cracking one heart can do, before no adhesive can keep it whole, and it shatters into a million pieces. that night, you stripped yourself of ony’s shirt you had been wearing, and threw it into the corner of your bedroom; it smelt too much like him, and you hated it.

harmless hatred became deep disdain on the evening of your birthday. you had organised a dinner for a few of your closest friends and family, and had vehemently stressed to ony that he had to be there on time. because, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t just be wasting your time, but he’d be wasting that of those closest to you as well. and he had promised you that if there’s something that had to be handled during the time of your dinner, he’d get connie or eren to do it so he could be with you. but 15 minutes of waiting for him became 30. and 30 soon became an hour, and your friends grew reasonably irate due to hunger. so you said they could order, and you’d just call ony one more time. but in a time where all you wanted to hear was your boyfriend’s voice, all you were met with was rings on the other line. that sound resounded all over the side of your face. and that feeling grew once the realisation hit that had you been a client, he wouldn’t have let the phone ring for more than five seconds. and that gave you a lot to think about.

you didn’t know how long the dinner lasted because your focus had remained on keeping your tears from falling into your food. you hated how pitiful you looked, lifting your head up every time someone walked into the restaurant, and the crestfallen expression that landed on your face each time you saw it wasn’t ony. it made no sense to you how the man who swore he would do anything for you, the man who placed a band on your ring finger, promising you that one day he’d marry you. the man who swore he had never loved anyone more than you, refused to put you before something so fleeting.

ony finally did show up though…two hours after the dinner had ended. heartbroken cries in your bedroom, had constantly been interrupted by calls coming from ony’s contact. but every single one went unanswered; he needed to feel what you felt when he had embarrassed you in front of your loved ones. though mere missed calls could never compare to the taste of your celebratory dinner food meshing awkwardly with the swallowed cries in your throat, you had to make him feel a morsel of the anguish he had put you through.

if ony could’ve gone full 2000s rnb music video; shirtless, singing outside your window with his chain blowing in the windy rain, he would’ve done. he would’ve even started throwing pebbles if he could, but your apartment was too high on your building. so he just settled on incessantly pressing the button next to your door number. and, after the nth try, you opened the door for him and he ran inside—pressing the elevator button a thousand times once he got in. and, just as he was about to knock on the door, it opened. and you stood on the other side, utterly unimpressed; bonnet on, your own pyjamas (instead of one of his shirts), and eyes reddened by tears. the impact caused by his heart unceremoniously dropping to the pit of his stomach caused a soft sigh to leave his mouth. then his lips began moving to explain himself.

“look, i'm sorry. i lost track of ti—”, his explanations were waved off—your own thoughts outweighing whatever he had to say to you.

“we're done, ony.”, was all you said to him before closing the door, and ony’s brain turned off, then back on again because what the fuck did you just say??

“y/n, open the door”, he banged on the door. and, not wanting any noise complaints, you opened it.

“what?”, you scowled.

“the fuck you mean done? talk to me”, ony’s hand reached out to yours, but quickly retreated when you pulled back from him. you had never done that; even when you were mad at him, you at least gave him a chance to get back into your good books again.

“you missed my birthday dinner, ony”, your voice was small, tears about to fall yet again.

“i know, and i'm sor—”,

“two years in a row.”,

“like i said, i'm sor—”,

“and my graduation, the party we had when i finally got my drivers license, the lunch you promised me on my first day at my new job. and you were meant to be my date at my sisters wedding.”, every example was punctuated by your fingertip harshly poking at his chest, and the tears just started falling on their own.

“i'm sorry, y/n”, ony’s voice started cracking, as his hand embraced the hand you had been poking him with.

“sorry isn't good enough anymore, ony. i deserve someone who prioritises me”,

“but everything i do is for us.”, he kissed your hand, “imma use this money to buy you ever—”,

“do you not understand that i don't want your money or gifts? i want you, ony.”, your breathed out, exasperation deeply set in your voice, and in your slumping posture, “anyone could give me bags and shoes, ony. but only you could give me your time. but you won’t, and that's the problem”

“so what, this is it?”,

“until you figure yourself out, yeah.”, you slid your hand from him, “it pains me because i love you so much, but i can’t keep living like this. if you're not ready for a girlfriend then you should've never got with me”

“but i am ready”, he pleaded.

“then act like it.”. were the words that echoed in ony’s head every time he showed up to the places he saw you posting on your story—heart holding hopes that your paths would cross. you didn’t know how he did it, but ony became your shadow for nearly the whole year you spent separated. even when you told him to give it up, he refused; sending bouquets of flowers to your workplace every few days, talking to you through your friends and family, and even showing up to your job to make up for that lunch he promised you. it hurt you to turn him away when you could see in his eyes that he would give up the world to have you in his orbit again. but, when you would ask him about where he got the money to even buy you these flowers in the first place, his silence was very telling.

but word on the street was that ony was a changed man now. your sources told you that he wasn’t dealing as much, and he had gotten a job. those sources being his instagram story that you watched through a burner account. seeing him everywhere made it impossible for you to wash yourself of him completely, so desparate times called for desparate measures. you missed that man so much, it was driving you crazy. it pissed you off seeing him being the man you had asked him to be, but not having the chance to bask in his progress. your love for ony wouldn’t vanish overnight, but it sure as hell hadn’t faded in the year you had been separated either. you kept his shirts and hoodies, and the promise ring he bought you was still on your finger.

so elated didn’t even begin to explain the feeling in your chest when, upon arriving at some house party, one of your girls told you that ony was there too. you tried to not seem so eager, but you had no control over your heart beating rapidly at the idea that you might see him again. all you needed was for him to apologise one more time, and you’d be all his. that was until you came to find that there was a hole blocking your reunion—that hole being in the shape of some girl giggling in his face, as his arm sat around her waist. every fibre of your being urged you to stomp over there, and scream his ear off. but he wasn’t your man anymore so there was nothing you could do but kiss your teeth and glower that them.

no man, not even ony, could get in the way of you and your friends enjoying yourselves. so that’s exactly what you did. for an hour, or two, ony didn’t exist and you just laughed and danced with your friends. however, the end of that would be marked when you stood, talking some guy you had just met, and one of your friends nudged you and nodded in ony’s direction.

“that doesn't bother you?”, she asked, obviously asking about the girl sat on ony’s lap.

“why would it?”, you shrugged back.

“you ain't say you missed the nigga?”, your other friend chimed in.

“okay? that doesn't mean i want him back”, you lied through your teeth.

“so you’re just missing him as hobby?”, sasha laughed.

“leave me alone.”, you chided, and your friends dropped the whole thing. but you wished those saltine whispers of jealousy would leave your eyes, and let you at least pretend to enjoy yourself in peace.

and if it wasn’t them ruining your fun, it was the girl’s friends staring at you.

“why are her friends looking at me?”, you whispered to connie. he had come over to speak to you, and that had caught ony’s attention. mainly because he wondered why you were willing to speak to his friend, but not him.

“they’re gloating.”, connie put a comforting arm around you, and pulled you closer to himself.

“well, tell them to stop.”, as if you could feel ony’s eyes on you, you moved connie’s arm from you, and connie laughed before putting it back where it was.

“they won’t. in their mind, she stole ony from you.”, he explained, and you scoffed.

“pfft, i could get that nigga back anytime i wanted”, you retorted, earning some knowing looks from your friends, before unprecedented words fell from sasha’s mouth.

“then do it.”, she nudged you, “you keep saying you want him so bad, go get him. he’s your man. go collect him”, that didn’t sound like a suggestion, it sounded like a dare. and you were never one to back down from a dare.

“fuck it”.

you didn’t know where your strides were leading you until you were barging past ony’s friends to link your arm around his own. at first, his body went into fight or flight because he thought he was about to be robbed, then calm came in the sound of your voice,

“ony, baby, where did you go? i've been looking for you everywhere”, you made sure to stick yourself onto him, and he didn’t move from you because he was too busy comprehending what the fuck was going on.

“y/n?”,

“i thought you guys were done?”, miss.whatever-her-name-was, linked ony’s other arm with her own, and pulled him towards herself.

“yeah, so did i”, ony spoke under his breath, looking down at you in bewilderment as he thought to himself; ”how much did i fucking smoke?”.

“who’s done?”, you looked up at him, “you’re mine for life, right?”, you pouted up at him, and all those memories of that night he had promised you he wouldn’t be long, came flooding back—ony folded immediately.

“always.”, he grinned at you, simultaneously yanking his arm away from whatever her name was.

“ony?”, she complained—now it was your turn to gloat.

“what?”, he sneered at her.

“you told me you guys were done”, she whined, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“well then don’t believe everything a nigga tells you”, was his final rebuttal before he pulled you outside.

at first, you just sat in silence, taking in the cool summer breeze. but ony had questions and, more importantly, he wanted to hear your voice.

“you forgive me then?”, his elbow gently met your arm.

“who said that?”, you stared down at your feet, kicking into the ground beneath you.

“you don't forgive me but you wanna do all that shit back there?”, he laughed.

“she didn't look good for you”, you finally looked up at him, and ony just laughed at you.

“you don't know her”,

“i just got that vibe”, you feigned a shudder, eyes still on him.

“what'd you really want, y/n?”, his index finger lifted your chin.

“you.”, your frank demeanour, and sincere eye contact, blew ony’s eyes wide open.

“well, you got me.”, as much as ony had changed in that year, his love for you remained incorrigible, and he’d be dumb to try and convince you otherwise. so he wouldn’t; he’d been wanting you back for far too long, and he’d finally gotten what he wanted.

“that easy?”, you teased.

“even if you’re not mine, i’ll always be yours, y/n. you know that”, ony’s words directed themselves at your lips; brown irises stuck onto your shining gloss.

“well then…can i be yours again?”, you muttered apprehensively, and the pause after that comment was unreadable.

“y’don’t even have to ask, c’mere”, ony reached his hand out to you.

gentle fingers, interlocked with yours, led you out of the party, and down a road that would end at ony’s car—parked overlooking the local area. he wasted no time; unlocking it before opening the back door, and gesturing for you to get in.

"already? you don’t at least want to talk first?”, you laughed at how keen he was, and a lazy smirk graced his face.

”we’ll talk after. get in.”, any anger, or disappointment, built up over the time you were together, had been mollified with just one comment. missing ony was something you never wanted to do again, and seeing the person he had apparently become, meant that you probably never would. all memories of past arguments, and splits, dispersed in ony’s mind once his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. it was one of longing, and regret. the heat emanating off his body causing particles of his internal regret to fill the inside of the car. you could feel it bouncing off your skin, as his tongue met with yours, and his hands kneaded at your flesh through your clothes. ultimately moving south to help you shimmy your way out of your jeans and underwear. he wouldn’t take them off completely, just leave them by your ankles as he laid you on your back, his mouth already placing soft kisses on your upper thigh. that lasted all of five seconds before ony’s tongue was wrapping around your clit, sucking on it gently. for him, this was a meal that was long overdue, and you could feel it in the way he ate you out like a starved man. taking no breaks; wet noises and thirsty moans, omitted by the ever-moving mouth entertaining your core, pervaded the vehicle.

ony had always luxuriated in eating you out, so it wasn’t long until you came; a rivulet dousing his lower face, before he finally came up for air.

”you still taste as good as i remember”, he uttered lowly, moving to give you a taste of yourself as he pressed his lips against yours. his kisses were haste as his hands fumbled to pull down his jeans and boxers, to angle himself at your entrance. the way you took in that first inch of him had him incapacitated; his forehead dropped to meet yours, while deep groans left his mouth.

”fuck…”, ony had to pause to compose himself before he gently pushed the rest of his length inside you. once he did, he just stayed there; eyes locked with yours, thanks to the streetlights, and you could’ve sworn that this man was close to tears with the way his eyes were glossing over.

the way he was fucking you was ineffable; a year was nothing compared to the others ony had spent studying your body, and the things it reacted to. like the way you’d grow tighter around him at his hands pressing your legs against your chest, as he fucked into you. even in the confined space, head crouched down so he didn’t hit the ceiling, ony still fucked you like you were in the comfort of his bedroom—with all the space, and time, in the world. his ireful tip would caress that spongy spot inside of you, over and over again, making your head spin. all those years of learning your body had not been in vain, because a few minutes in that position, and you came around him. keening his name, as your back lifted off the leather seats. ony was planning on taking you back to his place, and making up for lost time properly. but, for now, he would just turn you around and fuck into you from the back—your hands immediately finding the steamy windows,

”don’t do that, ma. people will know what we’re doin’ in here”, he chuckled at you and you moaned out a distorted version of,

”and the moving car doesn’t make it obvious?”. somehow, ony understood you; he was just used to your fucked out rebuttals, and he scoffed at you before giving the moving flesh surrounding your hips two quick slaps. your hands grabbed at anything they could to gain balance, ultimately deciding on the arm rest on the door. and ony’s hands would follow suit, but as he went to intertwine your fingers, his hands were met with cold metal. it was pretty dark in there, so he couldn’t really make out what it was, but a fleeting headlight revealed the ring he had bought you.

“still got that ring on?”, he smiled to himself.

“you p-promised me…”, you stammered out.

“that i’d marry you.”, his eyes softened at the fact that you had been wearing that ring, despite not being together. all because of that lovestruck vow he had made you,

“and imma keep to that promise. imma marry you, then imma fuck some babies into you”, he spoke to you, “that okay with you?”, you moaned out in loud agreement, and that drove ony to fuck you harder.

“good.”, the thought of you being his wife, sat in your marital bed, with his child in your arms sent him over the edge, and ony came in you. deep hums, containing declarations of his love, spilt all over the back of your neck. but his hips didn’t still because he could feel you coming again.

once you both came down from your orgasms, ony laid you down on your side, before pulling his boxers and jeans up and leaving the car momentarily to turn the car on. he opened the windows slightly, before returning to the back of the car. his back would soon be attached to the back door, yours against his chest as your fingers intertwined. even though you hadn’t covered yourself yet, and his nut was leaking out of you onto the leather seats, everything just seemed perfect. in its own weird way; you in ony’s arms again, and his lips pressing loving kisses on your temple.

”y’know it would’ve taken just one more knock at my front door for me to forgive you?”, you looked up at him. and, once the initial shock subsided, he chuckled at you.

”but i kinda think it’s better this way.”, he shrugged.

”how?”, you sat up to face him properly.

”it felt good to finally be able to give you my attention when you asked it of me.”, he smiled, reaching out to stroke your cheek, ”no interruptions. just us.”, after all the emotional turmoil, it was nice hearing that word again; ”us”.

”for life.”, you kissed his knuckle.

”for life.”

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#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #onyankopon x black reader #ony x black y/n #aot onyankopon #plug!onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankopon smut

[lilac-5ky]

Roommates from Hell, pt.1 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Stolen Fries taste best

(pic from loving yamada at lvl999, adorable manga, recommend)

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

Plot: Out of all the women that come and go in Toji's life, you're the only one he calls his friend. But when he suddenly forces his way into your apartment, the feelings you've kept from him are put to the test.

Setting: Pre Hidden Inventory Arc. Toji and reader are both in their late twenties, no Megumi in picture... yet :p

Themes: Cohabitation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Warning: Slight sexual content minus the actual smut.

A/N at the bottom

“You’re late. Again.”

The small silver bell at the top of the glass door notified you of a man’s arrival, his heavy steps refusing to wipe themselves upon entry, spreading mud all over the now-blotted checkered tiles of the dimly lit diner. You’d been expecting the owner of those shoes for the past six hours, his untimely arrival coming as a bitter aftertaste to an afternoon full of childish joy and mayhem— popped balloons, colorful confetti, and half-eaten pieces of cakes swept into one big pile at the room’s southernmost corner by yours truly.

“I never said I was coming,” the voice retorted, its defiant sound overshadowed by the gruesome screech of a metallic chair. “Not interested in celebrating some brat’s b-day, ‘specially if it ain’t mine.”

“How many helpless children must have spent their birthdays without their no-good father, I wonder,” you wiped your hands against your cherry-red apron, pushing the broom back into place. “If your goal is to repopulate Japan, I’m certain you’ll succeed.”

Hefty fingers mindlessly combed through a head of obsidian black, little spikes forming and then settling back down. “None, as far as I’m concerned,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

“Well, I find that hard to believe,” you mumbled under your breath, circling through the room to ensure everything was dealt with: leftovers in the fridge, gift wrappings in the bin, and the large aforementioned pile of garbage waiting to be scooped up. “You’ve known Kenzo since birth. Even if this ain’t your thing, the least you could’ve done was make an appearance. He kept asking about his favorite uncle all night long.”

“Except I’m not his uncle. Don’t mix me in with your sister’s family, I ride solo.”

Sigh.

“My sister’s family might as well be your family, Toji. You know how much Hinata and her kids adore you.”

“Good for them, I suppose.”

Another sigh.

“Can you at least tell me what was so important for you to not even pick the goddamn phone up?”

As if the device had grown sentient, a generic tune began tooting from the back pocket of his sweatpants, eradicating your final hope that it’d simply run out of battery.

Without budging from his seat, Toji twisted an arm around his back to pull his flip-phone out, the silver-tinted lid slamming shut as soon as he’d peered at the caller’s number, his next immediate move being to drown the sound in a glass of leftover Coke, fizzy bubbles playing the device’s final requiem.

You didn’t need to ask to know it was a woman, and he didn’t need to answer that she, whatever the name of his latest conquest was, happened to also be the reason for his being unfashionably late.

It was always like that. He was always like that. He went out with one girl after the other; from women of extreme beauty and poise to mindless bimbos who couldn’t tell tea leaves and coffee beans apart. He’d spend some cash to butter them up with expensive meals at overpriced restaurants, or VIP entrance at the hottest club, or even pay for the name tag on their designer clothes, but come next morning, he was either caught stealing straight out of their pockets or checking whether the tag was still attached to the dress for him to return it to the store—at which point, the vast majority gave up, except for those few poor souls who earnestly believed they could fix him, though they never would.

If there were two things in this world that remained unfaltering and resolute throughout the eons, then that was the earth’s orbiting the sun, and Zen’in Toji’s being the bastard of a man you knew and loved— special intonation of that last part.

It was quite the oxymoron. To know him as an irredeemable scumbag with no intention of changing, and to love him for all he was; a sentence as contradictory and controversial as the man before you. What was there to love? He never gave two shits about the people around him dying, and if he could encourage or partake in their deaths then he certainly would. He gambled every cent of cash in his hands away, and his every attachment ended with the disposal of his used-up condom. He was vulgar, cynical, and brass, and he possessed a great charisma of making people dislike him at first glance. His only saving grace was his good looks and even those he managed to scrape on a daily basis.

So, really, what was there to love about a man whose place fitted best among the pile of garbage in the corner? What was the point in all that?

He never answered your question, and when you realized he wasn’t planning to, you dragged a second chair to his side, propping your elbows first and then your chin over the vinyl backrest, feet landing at each side. You took in his expression— sour and undeniably agitated, with a frown tugging at the scarred corner of his lower lip, and a glare too icy to be meant for the wall of American-styled neon billboards he mercilessly studied. Something definitely bothered him, and as a huff stiffened his chin, the reason became evident enough for you to point at it.

“Woman or work?” you gestured at the blood that dribbled below his ear and down his neck.

He followed your forefinger with his eyes, thumb scrubbing where the gush began. He seemed oblivious to his injury, though it wasn’t as if his becoming aware changed a thing.

“So it is a woman,” you gladly seized the chance to rub salt into his wound, drawing a frustrated grumble from him.“What did you do this time? Stole her car and crashed it into a tree? Blew all her savings on cockfight betting?”

“Horse races,” he had the nerve to correct.

“Or… did you by any chance bring an uncalled ménage à trois to her bed?”

“What kind of man you take me for?” Toji protested.

“A very, very, veeeery bad man,” you smirked, and he returned it. You knew him like the back of your hand. There was no need to pretend otherwise after well over a decade’s worth of friendship.

“If a very bad man is what I am, then why’d ya let me in?” he asked. “A young unprotected woman all by herself in the middle of the night letting such scum in never ends well. Thought you were smarter than this.”

“If I was smarter, then I wouldn’t be calling you my friend, would I?”

His grimace turned into a full-blown devilish grin, the kind that secretly had your heart buzzing against the frail set of bones of your chest. He always looked so dazzling when he smiled, that sometimes you couldn’t find fault in those women wanting to believe in his pretty lies, because you, too, wanted to. You hoped that whatever the price for those smiles was, you would one day be able to afford it and gain ownership of his heart, no matter how wretched or blackened it was.

“You are a real idiot to mix it up with me,” he conceded. “Though, you are a greater idiot for letting that term define us. I bet your nights serving meals at some kiddie place get rather lonely. But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N. So good that you’d risk some prick getting in, lest he is me.”

His tongue poked out his mouth, giving his bottom lip a brief lick while he peered at you through half-lidded eyes. He had this way of turning things sexual in the blink of an eye, selling himself so well that your refusal to buy seemed commendable— despite the unmistakable affection you held for his face. Little did he know how much you longed to push that chair to the side and rip his cocky expression along his black-sleeved shirt off his body, making it so that neither of you had a place to hide from the other.

Now, that’d feel good.

“My nights are fine as they are, thank you very much,” you countered your instincts much to his disappointment. “And if I ever needed myself a helping hand, know that you’d be the last I’d call!” Not as if you’d pick up, anyway, you mentally added.

His gust of interest fizzled out as soon as it surged, your rejection forcing him to rock back and forth between the chair’s legs. He wasn’t interested in continuing this. It was enough for him to take in the dusty pink shading of your ears and smile to himself, knowing you were still the kind of woman affected by his charms. Yes, that certainly was enough, for now.

“I’ll clean you up,” you declared, getting off your spot in haste and strolling through the bar in search of a clean towel.

Once you found it, you let it soak under the faucet and brought it back to him, rubbing against his skin regardless of his petty attempt at gritting his teeth. You placed one hand on his shoulder and another at his jaw, pushing them apart to no avail. Every muscle in his body was stronger than your entire bodily force combined, and he was awfully willing to flex that difference between you, just as he was at letting you straddle his hips and climb all over his body like some sort of feral monkey in heat.

A string of profanities that ranged from “bastard” to “shit-eating-asshole-shithead” poured out your mouth while Toji smirked, and smiled, and grinned, and didn’t even try to stop you from knocking the two of you onto the ground, palms barely managing to stable your head over his face. Your pleated skirt had risen, or rather flipped, over your panties, revealing the strawberry pattern panties you were wearing to his greedy hands as they hiked up your flesh without an ounce of shame.

“Wh-What are you doing?!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he cooed, burying his calloused fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear.

You felt him trace the inward of your thighs in languid strokes, the fabric stretching the further his hand dipped— closer, and closer to your now-pulsing core, but never so close as to make actual contact. His hot breath tingled your lips, smelling of nothing in particular, but a sweaty tang of a woman’s deodorant that still lingered in his clothes. Had he fucked her before making it here, you wondered, heart tightening at the thought.

Your legs wiggled shut, unable to fully repel his hand, and for a brief moment, you considered letting him go through with this— whatever this was. Even if you came to be another conquest won, you didn’t care. All you needed was for him to hush all logic from your brain, and fuck you senselessly against the checkered tile floor of the “kiddie food place” you served meals at.

“Toji…” you begged, uncertain what you were begging him for until you felt the warmth in your thighs subside.

“Makin’ sure to preserve your maiden’s dignity,” he said as he fixed your skirt in place. “Wouldn’t want some perv catching sight of your cute little ass, would we?”

His condescending tone made you want to throw a slap across his face and then yours; for thinking that maybe this wasn’t a mistake, that you could really move past the pretense of friendship and aim at what you really sought. But he’d been right once before. You were stupid, stupider than all those girls combined, considering you knew and still wouldn’t mind being dragged down with him one bit.

“Fucking asshole,” you blurted as you pushed yourself off him, dumping the cloth on his smug face.

Your lip quivered as you stepped onto your feet, unable to quite shake the feeling of incompletion from your core, walls pathetically clenching around nothingness. You refused to look at him, lest you caved in a second time, and thus you paced around the booths, stopping before the one window whose blinds didn’t block the magnificent parking lot view. Only a black SUV was left— most likely his newest rental.

Following a beep, you watched the lights flicker white, his reflection in the window lifting the chair back up. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited, your impatience and frustration churning into a dangerous mix within your guts, as the asshole whose name wasn’t worth saying moved past you and walked straight to the door, not a single word or goodbye said.

“What about your phone?” you asked, at last paying him a look of spite.

“I’ll text ya my new number.”

“We both know you won’t.”

He glanced over his shoulder and showed you his pearly white canines, his expression not polished enough to be called a smile. You rolled your eyes in the opposite direction, spotting his old device blinking a variety of different lights, refusing to die just like its bastard of an owner.

“What should I do with this?”

“How the hell should I know?” Toji shrugged. “Get rid of it, or toss it in some burger. I’m sure no one will be able to tell the difference. Later,” the bell chimed as the door collided with the frame, chiming a second time as his head popped in a moment later. “Loved the raspberries.”

“They were strawberries, you scatterbrained swine,” you cursed, but he’d heard none of it. The car was gone, and so was he, and it was for the best that he didn’t get to witness the strawberry-colored shadow that loomed over both your cheeks.

Fanning some of that heat away, you returned to the table, surprised to find a white envelope with the name Kenzo hastily written on the front. Cash. Lots of cash. Enough cash to keep a low-end apartment afloat for at least a couple of months. An excuse and simultaneously the answer to all your previous questions.

“You fucking bastard,” you hummed, the term switching to one of utter endearment.

When the first instance of a wintry breeze came charging at the semi-exposed features of your face—a scarf’s fluff tucked right below your nose— you knew that walking all the way to the location where the unknown ID claiming to be Zen’in Toji ordered you to meet up was probably a bad idea.

For starters, you’d turn into an icicle long before making it back to your workplace. Not to mention you had no foolproof way of guaranteeing the person you were about to meet wasn’t some random impersonating psychopath. But when you finally spotted the yellow curvy “M” upon the rectangular red sign that spelled the fast food chain’s name, you narrowed down the psychopaths to that one cheapskate you happened to know.

Walking into the nearly vacant dining area —only the first two booths near the door occupying a family of four each— you detected him almost immediately. He was the only one seated in his wing. Head slightly tilted to look past the window, golden highlights showering the curve of a nose as it arched into thin eyebrows, calm eyes glinting with subtle emerald, and fingers that absentmindedly tapped away onto one of the two paper-covered trays. He had the decency to wait for you before getting into his food, though that didn’t stop him from munching on the occasional fry.

You tugged the handbag off your shoulder and slowly approached him, hesitating to enter his field of view, if just for a moment. He seemed so peaceful and serene, that if you had the guts, you’d snap a picture of him right then and there and make it into your phone’s wallpaper. But you didn’t. You’d never be able to explain it to him in a non-humiliating way, should he catch you in the act, and so, you shook the notion off and marched in his direction, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“What’s the point of calling me out here for lunch if we are gonna have burgers?” you dropped your bag at the far end of the table. “Why not eat at our place?”

“I like the fries here better,” he bit onto one as if to affirm his claim, licking the salty essence off his fingers. “You should be glad I got you some, too,” he nodded toward the closed dome-shaped box that lay in front of you. “Nuggets over burgers, right? Didn’t know what toy ya wanted though. Cashier girl told me bunnies are quite popular with girls your age, so I went with that.”

Ignoring, or rather postponing your answer to his outrageous suggestion, you peered through the contents of your meal’s box, spotting the wrapped-in-plastic purple-colored bunny key chain right at the bottom between the small portion of deluxe potatoes and even smaller portion of chicken nuggets that still steamed hot air. You were surprised he remembered everything about your order, down to your preference for milkshake over other beverages, and perhaps you would have shown your gratitude if it wasn’t for that last comment of his gnawing at your pride.

“How old did you tell the cashier I was, again?” you gritted, trying to suppress the toy’s cuteness within your fist.

“Didn’t. Just said it’s for some kid I know. Probably thought it was for my daughter or something.”

A pair of googly eyes popped out from their sockets, the bunny’s head in serious danger of coming right off.

“Stop acting like an old man,” you muttered in embarrassment. “A nine-month head start in life doesn’t make you old enough to be my father.”

“Still older than you, kid,” said Toji, his fingers latching onto his wrapped-up burger. “Now eat up. Didn’t pay ya lunch for it to go cold.”

Annoyed by his remarks, but oh-so terribly starved, you decided to let things slide, the two of you lunching in a period of temporal truce. He went through his burger in big bites, clearing it out before you even finished your portion of nuggets. You mildly wondered why he’d held off if he was this hungry, but didn’t press on the reason behind his invitation until after his tray was half-emptied.

“So… why’d you wanna meet up? Got something to tell me?”

“Mhm, I actually do. How would you like us to be room—Nah, that doesn’t sound too right,” Toji shook his head off, dusting the excess salt off his fingers. “I decided I’m moving in with you.”

“You, what?!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock, resembling those of your newly acquired key chain.

“What I just said. I’m moving in,” he repeated as if you hadn’t heard him the first time around. “Got everything right here. I’ll pop by later so you can show me my room.”

You glanced down at what he tapped as “here”, spotting a large black duffel bag that rested on his feet. He wasn’t joking, you panicked. He was being 100% serious about this. Directing your milkshake to your mouth, you took a nervous sip, nearly choking on the plastic straw between your teeth, while Toji kept staring at you, awaiting no answer in particular. After all, he wasn’t asking. He was proclaiming.

“Why would you want that?” you asked once you regained the ability to think rationally. “Weren’t you the one who said you ride solo?”

“Numerous reasons,” he stated, drawing his forefinger forth as if to recount. “For starters, rental prices going up, gas too. Inflation in the market and all that crap. Your place is also closer to work, and” he leaned closer, “wasn’t your neighborhood the one on the news recently? You know, those serial break-and-enter cases? As far as I’m aware, the culprit’s still running loose, could be a cursed spirit or something. You can’t see ‘em, but I can. I’ll keep ya safe. Wouldn’t you want that? Sounds like a fair deal to me, at least.”

The repetitive pattern of a catchy pop song blasting from the speakers served as a backdrop to your thoughts, eyes flickering between the table and his face. He wasn’t exactly wrong about what he said. The girl next door was the robber’s last victim, and from what you’d gathered, it seemed like the ones targeted were exclusively single women in their twenties. Curse or not, that was the intruder’s type, and you just so happened to tick both of those boxes.

From a standpoint of reason, his suggestion sounded fair alright, but this was Toji we were talking about. The man whose name was your first thought in the morning and the final afterthought in the night. The man you were coincidentally in love with.

Living with him would entail being around him a lot more than you could handle. Waking and sleeping and eating in the same house as him, spending your days off together, bickering about bills, take-out, and the TV remote’s ownership, doing things that only couples got to do, and of course, sharing a bathroom, which on its own meant seeing him parade through the cramped little space of your apartment in nothing but a soggy towel, hair slick and teeth beaming as he’d be asking if you’d like to join him in the shower—

You hit the break on these thoughts and pressed your forehead flat against both palms, feeling the heat exuding through your fingers. You were only able to keep this relationship platonic because of the distance he put between you. If he were to suddenly close it, what would come of you? How on earth would you be able to hold back?

“Don’t you want me?”

“Huh?” you bit at the straw again, snapping it in half.

“I said, you hate the idea of living with me that much?”

Toji certainly didn’t mince his words, but the way he was looking at you, brows furrowing and lips quivering into a frown despite the edge in his tone, almost made it seem as if hearing your rejection out loud would hurt him, and because of that, you had no choice, but to shake your head in denial. You wanted this. More than words could express, you wanted to be with him like that, even if you refrained from disclosing that truth.

You wanted him.

“What about your girlfriends? Wouldn’t they be against you living with some woman?”

“Nah, I’m done with that. Done with all of ‘em.”

“But my apartment is too small. I don’t think it’d suit you—”

“I’ll manage,” he cut you off.

“I don’t even have a second bed-”

“We can always share,” he smirked, letting out a light-hearted chuckle as he watched color paint your cheeks. “Couch is fine, too. So, whaddya say, roomie?”

“…Fine,” you conceded, very well knowing you’d come to regret this decision. “But we need to set some ground rules! No trashing the apartment, no throwing your ‘work tools’ all over the place, no smoking, no drinking, no loud music, and no bringing in random women. No starting fights either! You’ll help around and pay half of what’s needed, so no gambling your money away. Those are my terms.”

“You drive a hard bargain, roomie,” Toji said, balancing his chin atop his elbow. “Fine by me. Told you I’m done with half those things anyway, and I don’t mind helping you with anything. I mean that.”

But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N.

His words from that night still lingered in your mind like an unfulfilled promise, and when he phrased it like that, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how good his hands felt that night, creeping all over your skin as if he owned it— as if he owned you.

“G-good!” you said, picking up a fry off his tray and tossing it in your mouth, lest you said something stupid.

“No one taught you stealing other people’s food is rude?” Toji shot you a glare unequal to your crime.

“It’s not stealing if you are done with it!” you protested. “You haven’t touched your fries in over ten minutes now.”

His tongue clicked against his mouth’s roof, producing a series of “tsk” sounds while he shook his head in disapproval. “Didn’t take ya for such a brat, Y/N. Disrespecting me in my face right after we came to an agreement? That’s some bad business ethics.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, barely keeping yourself from groaning. “I’m so terribly sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have stolen your esteemed fries, sir. Won’t ever happen again, sir. Please allow me to express my profound remorse, sir.”

Although Toji knew you only addressed him as such to get on his nerves, he was still pleased enough to grace with you an unsuspecting smile, seconds before you shoved a ketchup-covered potato against his mouth, smudging the left corner of his lips in a way akin to that of his right corner scar. He blinked, clouds of fury gathering in the bleakness of his eyes and cheeks puffing up, painting the most adorable expression you’d ever seen him wear.

“So cute,” you gushed, unable to suppress a hearty laughter that agitated him even more, red blooming across his cheeks— most likely by the lack of oxygen, you interpreted.

“Fucking brat,” he hissed, dipping the last of his fries in ketchup and then stuffing your mouth with it before you could even react. “I’ll show ya how it’s done!” he declared, your lips puckering against his fingers, condiment spreading all over like lipstick. His other hand forced your head in place, stilling your chin for him to work on his masterpiece, making a much bigger mess out of you than you had made of him.

“Hmphmmph!” you hummed while Toji laughed, a deep sound that reverberated straight from his guts, his eyes glinting along with his teeth in sheer joy that convinced you to give up so as to not spoil his fun. It was rare to see him genuinely happy.

“That should teach ya to behave,” he spat, smugness in every aspect of his features as he pressed his thumb onto his mouth, cleaning the ketchup off with a lick. “But you did address me properly, so you’ve earned the right to choose. Napkin or my lips? Which one?”

Stupefied as you were, you didn’t understand the full context of his question until you felt the sudden warmth of his mouth flutter over your skin, the tip of his tongue sloppily gathering the leftover ketchup off your right cheek. Your jaw popped open, a small gasp escaping as a result of his action.

“Too slow,” Toji whispered, hooded green eyes peering right into yours. “I’ll ask again. Napkin or my lips? What’s it gonna be, doll?”

“N-n-n-napkin!” you must have stuttered at least a thousand times before forming a comprehensible answer. He was so close that if he tilted his head any closer your lips were sure to touch. “P-please get me a napkin.”

“Please?” he chuckled, acting as if was really going to kiss you and then pulling away. “Be right back.”

Even after Toji let go, you could still feel the weight of his thumb holding you down, your eyes zeroing in on his black sweater as he set off for the other side of the room where the napkin and condiments stand was located. You heard a few whispers coming from beside your table, catching three pairs of eyes shooting daggers right at your back.

“Don’t they have a home?” a woman’s voice echoed first.

“Kids these days…” a man added.

“Honey, don’t look at their sinfulness, it’s the devil’s work.” A second woman concluded.

You were on the verge of experiencing a cardiac arrest, and you were pretty darn sure you would have if Toji hadn’t returned with the napkins in time, his hand snatched by yours as you forcefully dragged him out of the place, spelling frantic apologies at whoever was listening.

Once you’d made it outside, you sighed in relief, winter’s viciousness coming as a much-needed slap across your face. You took in a few breaths, letting go of his hand and padding a few steps away from the store’s windows, afraid you were still the focus of their attention. Toji followed, one hand stuffed inside his jeans pocket, while the other held the duffel bag over his shoulder in a lazy manner.

“Can you give me a lift to work?” you managed to ask, dodging his stare even as he stepped to the front.

“I would, but I can’t. Gave the car away.”

“You did what?”

Nothing about your reaction was funny in any shape or form, but he seemed amused enough to break into a soft chuckle, his eyes, too, softening ever so slightly.

“Planning to walk around town like a bloodsucker?” he asked, bringing a napkin to wipe your lips with greater care than you’d think. “How dirty,” he cooed, gently tapping at the center. “Next time, I won’t ask for permission to kiss you, roomie. Let’s go.”

“W-Where?” your voice came out so frail that you doubted he’d heard your question, his bag bouncing over his taut body with every step he took outside the parking lot.

“You asked for a ride, didn’t ya? Come.”

A/N: Launching a new series because I have so many feelings bottled up that I'm in danger of farting hearts and rainbows and shit. Decided to take the time off and write this fic for myself cause I needed it, but then I thought why not share it with the world? First time writing for Jujutsu Kaisen and Toji in particular, so hopefully it's received well!

#fushiguro toji #zenin toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #brainrot is real #toji <3 #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji headcanons #jjk toji #toji scenarios #toji smut #not yet but ugh #toji fic #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji x self insert #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk fluff #Toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[gretagerwigsmuse]

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay [part 2.2.1]

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is getting honored with an award in front of all his colleagues. when he remembers the particulars behind the mission in question, he considers how lucky he is to have his best girl by his side, especially considering how she almost wasn't

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 15.7k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, bradley has a little bit of a spiral...

[part 1], [part 1.5], [part 2.1], part [2.2.1], [part 2.2.2] and the official companion playlist

Thanks to an early check-in at the hotel, you and Bradley had gotten settled in your room around noon. This gave you just enough time to have lunch together and hang out at the beach for a couple hours before you and Natasha met up to get blow-outs. You and Bradley had spent the previous night apart, citing a nail appointment with Nat - amongst other things - that you had to attend to after work, so you were both excited for your little weekend getaway. Even if it was just a night away in Coronado.

Bradley had just gotten out of the shower when he heard the hotel room door close and a moment later saw you in the hallway. 

“Hey.” He glanced over at you and smiled. “Your hair looks nice.”

“Thanks.” You preened and leaned against the bathroom doorway. “Bubs, why are you just now getting out of the shower?”

You’d been gone for a while - or at least for the entire pregame coverage and first two quarters of the Alabama/Tennessee game that Bradley had been watching. He had timed his shower to fit in during halftime, not knowing exactly how long it took someone to get their hair blown out.

He cleared his throat. “I uhh - I took a really long shower?”

“You just got in didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You scrunched up your nose and shook your head. Bradley mimicked you and pulled you into the bathroom by the belt loops on your baggy jean shorts. “And you,” he gave you a quick peck on the lips, “look gorgeous.”

You ducked your head. “I don’t even have my dress on or makeup done yet…”

Bradley clicked his tongue. “The infamous dress…” 

All you’d offered to him in terms of a hint was that it would match his formal dress blues - which admittedly didn’t give him much to go off. 

He had seen your shoes, though - nude heels with a dainty little ankle strap that he knew he’d fumble with later. But now you looked so soft and sweet in your oversized oxford and frayed denim shorts. God, you were so pretty. Didn’t matter if you’d just woken up, had been working all day, or had just gotten your hair done - Bradley always thought you were gorgeous. 

Unable to keep his hands off you for a second longer, he pulled you into his arms, with your back to his front so that you were both facing the mirror. He put his chin on your shoulder and lightly swayed the two of you back and forth. 

“You smell pretty,” you whispered, but refused to meet his eyes in the mirror. 

“Pretty sure that’s my line, kid.” He pressed a couple featherlight kisses on your neck and you giggled. 

“That tickles!” He kept at it, eliciting more giggles from you, until you wiggled out of his grasp so you were facing each other again. Bradley settled his hands on your hips, while you cupped his cheek. “My scruffy boy.”

“Was just about to shave - do you wanna…” He jutted his chin towards the razor and shaving cream canister on the counter. 

You glanced back at them and cocked your head. “Wait, really? I don’t wanna mess it up or cut you - especially tonight…”

I just want you to touch me didn’t seem like a valid enough excuse, but that’s all he wanted. After everything the last week and a half, the two of you were still a little cautious around each other, so much so that it had left Bradley feeling a little needy - almost like he was always wanting you to touch him or needing the reassurance that everything was okay between the two of you. 

“I trust you,” he said, but the words came out heavier than he had anticipated. 

You tucked a strand of freshly blown out hair behind your ear. “Okay, yeah, sure. So, how exactly does this work?”

“First -” he took the shaving cream canister off the counter, “- squirt a little of this in your hand -”

“- I know how to use shaving cream,” you teased, “I mean do I go up or down? Should I be at a different angle? Stuff like that?”

“Stuff like that, huh?” You shoved his shoulder and he exaggerated a grunt. “Alright, Million Dollar Baby, you can sit on the counter, the light’s probably better, too.”

With Bradley’s help, you hiked yourself up onto the bathroom counter and he placed himself between your legs. Even through the plush, white towel he was wearing around his waist, he felt himself brush against your soft legs and couldn’t resist running his hands up them and your thighs for a moment. 

“You’re gonna make me mess up if you keep doing that…” He held his hands up in surrender. “Good boy. Alright, let’s see.”

You contorted your body to quickly wash your hands in the sink and then popped the cap off the shaving cream and squirted some into your hands. The shaving cream changed from gel to frothy white cream in an instant and you lathered it across Bradley’s cheeks and neck. 

“Is it cold on your face?” He hummed in the negative. “Is it bad that I’m nervous? It feels like that scene in the Parent Trap.”

Bradley chuckled. “You’re fine, start at the top and work your way down.”

The first time the blade made contact with his skin, your eyes widened and he had to hold back a chuckle, lest it mess you up. But eventually, you got into a good rhythm and looked absolutely adorable with your tongue poking out of your mouth in concentration. And while it seemed like you hadn’t even realized it, it was very much apparent to Bradley that you had wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you so your heels were digging into his ass. His hands ultimately found their way back to your thighs - if pressed, he would say it was so you didn’t fall.

By now, you had finished shaving the majority of his face, leaving just around his mustache and neck. It was relaxing, having someone else do something he typically considered a chore. Plus, having someone so pretty and soft and warm wrapped around his body while doing it? It felt like a reward. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna mess up,” you said, not looking away from his neck. 

He smiled, causing you to stop. “But you’re so cute.”

You rolled your eyes, but were clearly fighting a smile. “You’re just saying that because I’m wielding all the power here…”

In response, you brought the razor closer to Bradley’s mustache than he was comfortable with. “Woah, woah, woah. Careful with the ‘stache, sweets.”

You made a face. “Sweets?”

“It slipped out, sorry.” The blade hovered over his mustache, getting closer and closer to the edge and Bradley didn’t like the look on your face. “Sweets is not happening again, scouts honor.” He held up three fingers for good measure.

“Good, but only because I need you looking your best for Nat’s Halloween party, Coach Lasso.”

Somehow, you had strong-armed Bradley into being Ted Lasso for the aforementioned Halloween party in two weeks. The two of you had been watching the show some weeks ago and you’d mentioned how handsome you thought Ted was - for the record Bradley never got handsome from you as a compliment, it was always pretty - and before Bradley knew it, he was mentioning how he had the same pair of Nike Air Pegasus as Ted and you were ordering him an AFC Richmond jumper and visor. 

He’d get you back next year - hopefully. 

“You like the mustache, don’t lie…” Bradley leaned back, looking at you with unbridled amusement.

“Hmmm. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it, old -”

“- Don’t say old man -”

“- man.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he placed a dollop of excess shaving cream on your nose. “None of that now.”

You giggled and wiped your nose and put the hand not holding the razor on your hip. “Still wielding all the power here, bubs. You gonna let me finish or not?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, shush.”

“Fine, fine. You can finish.” 

True to his word, Bradley let you finish shaving the rest of his neck and around his mustache. He tried not to be too self conscious as you shaved near the ever-so prominent scars on his neck and cheeks, but let out a sigh as you dragged your fingers across them tenderly once you finished.

“All set.” He smiled at you and gave you a quick kiss. You giggled. “God, you silly boy, you always make such a mess - here.” You started brushing the excess hair off the vanity and also wiped the remaining shaving cream off his face so he could put on his aftershave, himself. “You know, this won’t fly if we ever properly share a bathroom.”

He chuckled. He always liked your fussing. In fact, before Bradley had started seeing you, he had always thought he was impeccably neat. But you? Nah, you could lick whipped cream off your kitchen floor with how neat and clean you kept everything. 

“I’ve never lived with anyone else before - I mean, I had roommates in college and there were the guys on base I’ve lived with, but never with someone like that...”

You tucked your hair behind your ear. “Me neither.”

“I think I’d have to be really serious about them? Like I’d have to be ready to take that next step with them, you know?” 

He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. You hadn’t been seeing each other for too long, just six months. Your lease wasn’t even close to being up yet. But it was nice to talk about it - about a future for the two of you.

When you finally spoke again, your voice was shy. “Yeah, definitely the next step.” 

Take the next step with me, he wanted to say. But it was too early. Way too early. Maybe you guys could talk about it in a couple months? Once you got through the holidays and everything. You were already spending Thanksgiving together - a trip up to Berkeley to stay with your dad and stepmom and Bradley’s first time meeting them in person - but Christmas was still up in the air.

You cleared your throat. “Once you’re done here, I’ll start getting ready? Just have to do my makeup and put on my dress.”

Hoping to inject some levity into the situation, Bradley joked: “You know, you helped me with shaving, ‘least I could do is offer to help you with your makeup.”

You pretended to consider this. “Think I’ll have to pass on that one, but I’ll take it into consideration in the future.”

“Fine, fine,” he held his hands up in surrender, “but don’t say I didn’t offer.”

With one final kiss on the cheek, you let Bradley finish getting ready and eventually switched positions a few minutes later, leaving Bradley to change into his formal dress blues in the bedroom, while you took over the bathroom. 

Eventually, some twenty minutes later, Bradley knocked back the rest of his whiskey as he watched the College GameDay coverage. The clock on the bottom of the screen told him it was already six - you were going to be late. 

“Bradley?” your voice came out muffled from behind the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV in the living area, as he made his way towards the bathroom. He wanted to see the highlights from the UVA game earlier in the day, too. 

“Could you help me -” He slid open the pocket-door. “- with my - oh!”

You let out a gasp, making eye contact with him in the mirror. All you were wearing was a pair of heels and some white lace panties, which looked more like a scrap of fabric than anything practical. He swallowed thickly.

For a moment - a long moment - Bradley didn’t speak. He just stared at you, practically naked, your gorgeous breasts only covered by one of your arms, while your naked ass cheeks taunted him with a perfect little triangle of white lace peeking out from just below the curve of your back. 

“Good, I need you!” you said to his reflection in the mirror, “Can you tie this for me?” 

Tie what? You weren’t wearing anything but - oh god. Bradley nodded, knowing he looked way too eager, and took a step forward. Two thin white ribbons taunted him from where they were resting on your ass cheeks. 

You put your other hand on the counter and Bradley stood behind you. Were the ribbons the only thing keeping this up? He slid his finger under the one in his right hand, slowly making his way to the front of your body where a triangle of lace was covering you. Fuck. 

“Now where’s a good girl like you get something as naughty as these panties?” You wiggled your ass and he pulled tighter on the ribbons, forcing a gasp from your lips. “Careful, sweetheart.”

“It’s a present - for you, for your award.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you tie it?”

He tsked. “I mean I can tie it, doesn’t mean I wa -”

“- I’m not going without underwear, Bradley.” He looked up in the mirror to see you glaring at him. At least, he thought you were glaring at him, the amused almost-smile on your face made it hard to tell. 

Ever the dutiful boyfriend, he started tying the ribbons together in a pretty little bow - bunny ears and all. “How’re you going to go to the bathroom with this on?” Bradley asked when he was done. 

You leaned back and brushed your ass against his groin. “You wanna know a secret?” He hummed in your ear. “I can tie it by myself, just wanted you to see what you’re coming back to tonight.”

Fucking brat. 

“All set.” He smacked your ass for good measure and you whined. “Atta girl.” He rubbed your now red cheeks, inching towards that pretty little bow. “God, you’re so soft.”

“Mmhmm, I got a wax yesterday…” You turned around and slid your hands up his lapels. Your breasts brushed against his chest as you straightened his bow tie. “But I kept your favorite part”

As tantalizing as that thought was, Bradley had to say: “You know I don’t care -”

“- how else am I going to feel that mustache rub against me as I ride your face?”

Fuck. He moaned your name. “I know you don’t mean the same mustache you literally just tried to shave off?”

You made a face. “That doesn’t sound like me -”

“- No, not you. Not my smart girl.”

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around Bradley’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow and soft and he couldn’t help but pull you closer. Mindful of not ruining the makeup you’d already put on, Bradley ran his hands up and down your sides. God you were so fucking soft and warm and pretty - so goddamn pretty. 

Eventually, you dragged his lip between your teeth as you pulled away. “Don’t want us to be late…”

Bradley exaggerated a sigh. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you don’t have any clothes on - don’t think they’ll let you in like that...” You giggled and kissed him again. “Alright, finish getting dressed and I’ll be waiting for you to make your grand entrance.”

“I have to tape my boobs…” You scrunched up your nose, clearly not looking forward to doing - well, whatever that meant. “You’re lucky Caroline talked me out of wearing Spanx…”

“That doesn’t sound particularly fun.”

You rummaged through your toiletry bag, eventually brandishing what looked like a mix between pre-wrap and an ace-bandage. “Oh, it’s not. Don’t worry, I won’t make you take the tape off later, now go! I have to finish changing.”

Bradley held his hands up in surrender and left the bathroom with a final parting kiss. 

-----------

You looked stunning. There was no other word for it - though Bradley had tried about nine other ones on the way over to the reception. Beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal, pretty, lovely, show-stopping, ravishing, exquisite, picturesque. 

Each made you more flustered the longer he continued. For someone so outwardly confident at times, you didn’t take genuine compliments very well. Sure, you loved to ham it up sometimes - for the bit, Bradley! - but more often than not, you tended to brush him off when he got too earnest. So, that night, Bradley made sure you knew how gorgeous you looked. 

You kept your hair simple - not fussing with it after your blow out - and did your makeup to your tastes. And then there was the dress. The dress that had taunted Bradley all week from its spot in your closet - the special black garment bag not even allowing him to catch a glimpse at the color or fabric until earlier that evening.  

It was white. Ivory silk crepe de chine if you wanted to be specific - which apparently you did. And as had clearly been your intent, the ivory looked perfect in contrast to his blue uniform. The two of you looked classic, polished, handsome. You looked like a pair. That even though there was nothing to overtly signify it, it was obvious that you two were together. 

Back in the room, you’d done a full spin for Bradley, showing off the back of your dress, which made him realize exactly why you had needed to tape your boobs - the dress was practically backless. The thin straps crossed just below your shoulder blades and the fabric started again at the small of your back - about where Bradley would place his hands later as you danced on the black and white checkered dance floor spread out in the middle of the lawn.

And only after being assured numerous times all week that people in the military did not make enough money to freely spend it on whatever exorbitant amount your dress cost, were you secure in the knowledge that no one, not even anyone in a Rent the Runway dress, would be wearing the same thing. It was a little snobby, but Bradley kinda liked that about you - fucking shoot him. 

Instead, this enabled you to focus that energy onto other things - namely, making sure you knew how to properly address every single person you came across and were well versed in nearly every major political, economic, and social event in the past four weeks. Bradley had even seen you reading Politico Playbook on your phone on the beach earlier. He almost wanted to tease you about preparing some flashcards, but knew that this was your way of coping and getting over your nerves. If only Bradley could find something similar to handle his. 

So, now, you were making your way from your room on the east side of the resort to the Windsor Lawn where the two of you would join 350 of Bradley’s colleagues and their dates for dinner, drinks, dancing, and awards. 

“- Wait.” Your words stopped him in his tracks. “Quick check.” Your hands slid up his lapels, needlessly smoothing them out. “You look so pretty, bubs.” He blushed. “What about me?” 

You tilted your chin up so Bradley could check if your makeup was properly blended and then smiled, allowing him to check your teeth for any lipstick stains.  

“Wouldn’t change a thing. God, you look so beautiful.” 

Bradley loved that he could still get you to shake your head in amusement or roll your eyes and duck your head whenever he called you beautiful. But it was true. Of course it was true. You were so beautiful.

After placing a quick kiss on the back of your hand, he took it in his own and you both started walking again. There were a couple other groups making their way to the lawn, but he didn’t recognize anyone yet. He took a deep breath. 

It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. Fine - it would be fine. Despite the minor bumps in the road on the way to that evening celebrating his award, (okay, so he eventually got you to admit that he had made you cry in the shower so maybe not minor), it was going to be fine. 

No one would ask too many questions about the mission, no one needed to know Bradley still could feel the rope of the ejection handles not working and hear the undercurrent of panic in Mav’s voice when they ran out of flares. No one needed to know that the moment he stepped off the flight deck he ran to the bathroom dry heaving and throwing up until Mav practically carried him to medical. No one needed to - fuck. He had to shake this. 

Because he had you. And he had you to sit with him and hold his hand and call him Bradley and make sure he was okay. Because he was always okay with you. 

He was always okay when he was your Bradley. 

“Hey.” He pulled you to a standstill once again. “Thanks for coming with me, really. I know I didn’t exactly go about this the right way, but, seriously, thanks for giving me another chance. It really does mean a lot that you’re here and I can’t - I don’t want to imagine what I would do without you tonight. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand. It was like you could tell with just one look what was going through his head. “Bradley, you don’t need to make anything up to me, this isn’t transactional. We just have to try and be more honest with each other about stuff like this - and, plus, I want to be here for you, bubs, alright? Whether you want to be the belle of the ball or sit in the corner, we’ll do whatever you want tonight, okay?”

“I know that,” he paused to kiss your cheek, “but you have to let yourself just enjoy tonight, too, alright? Because as much as I love hearing you talk about the DART spacecraft test earlier this week and student protests in Iran, you don’t have to worry about passing a test or saying the right thing. Just - just be you and everyone will love you as much as I do.”

You bit your lip and then exaggerated a sigh. “Fine, I guess I’ll just talk about unethical labor practices in Qatar ahead of the World Cup or last week’s US airstrikes in Syria - Bradley!” you cut off with a giggle once he pinched your side. 

This was one of the things he loved about you - that you could get him out of his head and that you brought this certain lightness to him. Because a minute ago he had been spiraling over last year’s mission and now it was on the tip of his tongue to remind you that that Syrian airstrike was an Air Force operation and that the Air Force was strictly persona non-grata that evening. Except your giggles were contagious and he was only cut off by someone clearing their throat.

Like you two had been caught necking in the hallway, you and Bradley sheepishly turned around to face Admiral Simpson and his wife, Emily.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw,” the older man offered.

“Admiral Simpson, sir.” Bradley nodded his head in greeting. “Emily - err, Mrs. Simpson, ma’am. You’re both looking lovely this evening.” He then turned towards you and introduced you to the Simpsons. 

You shook Cyclone’s hand and politely nodded towards his wife. “Nice to see you both. Hopefully, we’ll get to chat more inside?”

Emily nodded, clearly excited about the prospect of making a new friend. She was rather notorious on base for recruiting the other milspo’s to volunteer their time - and for the Porsche Cayenne she always double parked next to her husband’s F-150 in the parking lot when she came to visit. “I’ll come find you both later.”

“Looking forward to it.” And if Bradley hadn’t known you any better, he’d be convinced you actually were. 

With a clap on the back from Cyclone and a nod from Emily, the older couple continued on their way towards the lawn, leaving you both behind. 

“Two down, three hundred and forty-eight to go…” Bradley muttered.

You looped your arm through his and ambled down the path to the right. “Actually, three hundred and forty-six to go - remember, we don’t count.” Bradley exaggerated a groan and let you pull him along.

Though he had heard the chatter and dull thrum of Ain’t That a Kick in the Head the second you had stepped outside your room, turning that final corner Bradley was briefly taken aback by the general splendor and opulence of the event. 

Under a canopy of string lights, a black and white checkerboard dance floor sat in the middle of the lawn, surrounded by dozens of circular tables with gold chiavari chairs and draped in navy tablecloths. The flowers in the centerpieces - ranunculus - were easily recognizable thanks to his various trips to the florist over the last six months. And a litany of tuxedo clad waitstaff were bustling between the high top tables and bars on the edge of the event space, offering canapes, crudites, and other passed appetizers. 

And then there were the guests. Everyone from Ensigns to Admirals were decked out in their finest formal dress uniforms. Bradley didn’t have nearly as many medals or pins on his uniform as some of the upper brass, but he still managed to put on a good show. He was excited to see Mav later and tease him, knowing he hated dressing up for these things. Ironically enough, the large size of the crowd helped rather than hurt his nerves - it was easier to get lost in and was more intimate in a way. 

You made your way over to the check-in desk to find your seating assignment and just as Bradley had feared, he was at one of the head tables, thankfully along with Mav and Penny, but also with Jake - and whoever he had coerced into being his date - and the Simpsons. Bradley put his place card next to Cyclone’s, sticking you in between him and Maverick, who was next Penny. 

“Seat of honor, rocketman,” you teased. 

Bradley blushed, but tried to play it off. “That’s what I’ve been telling you, kid - I’m kind of a big deal.” You shot him a wink and put your tiny pearl beaded purse on the table, staking out your spot. 

Glancing around the room, Bradley could see a couple members of the squad some tables over. Bob and Halo were huddled together, laughing with Phoenix and your colleague that you’d set her up with, Rory. It didn’t look like Payback and his wife or Fanboy and his girlfriend had arrived yet, but Coyote and his girlfriend were messing around with the placecards. Bradley definitely wanted to introduce you to her - she was a private chef in LA and ran a wildly successful food Instagram account that you were obsessed with despite the fact that you weren’t the best cook. Yet, at least. 

A server came up to you both with some crab rangoons - a perennial favorite. Bradley eagerly grabbed two - he hadn’t eaten since the three steak asado tacos he had at the beach around noon - while you politely declined. 

“When’s dinner?” He held his hand over his mouth as he chewed. Damn that crab rangoon was good. He vaguely recalled that he had requested the slow braised short ribs for dinner, while you had gone with the pan roasted scottish salmon. It went without saying that he would be sneaking some of yours.

You glanced down at the menu card on the table. “Uhhh it says not till seven - awards are at eight and then dancing and dessert until ten-thirty. The hotel must have a quiet hour or something.”

Bradley nodded. “So, game plan?”

“Game plan.”

“We get drinks -”

“- We hang out with your friends -”

“- We mingle - 

“- Oh, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is such a wonderful boyfriend, he’s the most amazing pilot I’ve ever seen, the way he just thrusts that plane, all those evasive maneuvers -”

He chuckled. “- Okay, hotshot - we mingle, we come back for dinner -”

“- We charm the Simpsons -”

“- We charm the shit out of them -”

“- You get your award because Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is such a wonderful boyfriend, the most amazing pilot I’ve ever seen - oww, fucking weirdo.” You rubbed your arm where Bradley had shoved you. He hadn’t done it that hard - just enough to get a reaction out of you. “And when we dance.”

“And then we dance,” he concluded, trying to be serious, but that failed when you held your palm up for a high-five. The resulting slap garnered the attention of a couple people around you, including a Top Gun lieutenant Bradley frequently saw around base.

Granted, Bradley liked Hawkeye and genuinely enjoyed talking to him on base. He was definitely the best WSO in his class and a great guy in general, but he was ruining the game plan you both had literally just concocted by coming over - and Bradley hadn’t even had a drink yet. 

“Lieutenant Commander,” Hawkeye said with a cheesy grin, which turned into a slap on the back from Bradley. He introduced you to Hawkeye - with his real name, of course - and the three of you started chatting. 

“Now how the hell did you swing an invite to this thing?”

Hawkeye puffed his chest out. “I’ll have you know, I happen to be a very important person’s plus one.”

“Oh, do tell,” you egged him on, even leaning in closer to get the scoop. 

Admittedly, at this point, Bradley was also curious. Both of your favorite kinds of gossip was that which was important to some people, but meant absolutely nothing to others. Case in point, Lieutenant Kopinski’s date. 

“Well, technically,” he started, glancing around the room, “she asked me a bit last minute and since her original date bailed…”

“Oh, Hawkeye…” Bradley chuckled and you swatted his stomach. 

“But I’m optimistic, you know? She’s always nice to me whenever I stop by and sometimes we get coffee between my classes -”

“- The girl, lieutenant, who’s the girl?” you interrupted, practically giddy. It lit your whole face up and made Bradley smile. 

Hawkeye’s cheeks were flushed and he glanced around one final time before saying: “Kennedy Ayers.”

To you, this meant absolutely nothing. But to Bradley? 

“You came with Admiral Simpson’s EA?” Hawkeye nodded once. “Does he know?” He shook his head. “You know he’s at our table?”

Hawkeye was right - Kennedy Ayers was very important. She had been Cyclone’s EA since just before Bradley had come back to North Island last fall and she quite literally made Top Gun the well oiled machine that it was. And Cyclone was very fond of her. Or at least as fond of anyone as Cyclone could be. 

You spoke up. “So, you came as friends?” He nodded. “Do you want to be more than friends?” Again, he nodded. “Well, I can’t really do anything on Kennedy’s end, but Bradley and I could put in a good word for you with Admiral Simpson at dinner? I mean, if Bradley thinks you’re good people then that’s good enough for me.”

“Well,” Hawkeye looked between you and Bradley, “I don’t know if Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw would go as far to say good people -”

“- I wouldn’t - owww.” Bradley let go of your hip and rubbed his stomach with his now free hand. “Fine. Hawkeye, we can mention something to Cyclone at dinner,” he grumbled.

Hawkeye expressed his thanks and continued fawning over you as the three of you chatted for a couple more minutes, getting into how Bradley knew the younger pilot and how much longer he was in the area. After a while, you glanced over your shoulder towards the south end of the lawn.

“Hey, bubs? I think I’m gonna head over to the bar, it looks like there’s a pretty big line forming and I want us to get drinks before dinner?”

Bradley tried not to look too disappointed that you would be leaving him - for however brief the time - but realized it gave you both the perfect excuse to continue on with your game plan. “Okay, I’ll meet up with you in a few.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and turned towards the bar, but then doubled back. 

“Can you hold my phone for me?” Bradley held his hand out and you placed your phone in it with much aplomb. “Thank you - and again, nice to meet you, Lieutenant - good luck with Kennedy!”

With a smile and wave of your hand, you were gone and Bradley was stuck with Hawkeye, who was staring after you in bewildered awe. 

“She’s lovely.” Bradley rolled his eyes. Yeah, he knew you were fucking lovely, but he didn’t need every LTJG thinking that. “How’d you guys meet?”

“Hinge.” It was always a bit of a shit answer, but it was the truth. 

“Hmmmm.” He shoved a crab rangoon into his mouth, no doubt trying to hide the shit eating grin on his face. “Aren’t you a little too old for dating apps, Lieutenant Commander?”

Kopinski was lucky Bradley liked him so much - no one else would’ve let the kid get away with that. “And isn’t your behavior verging on impertinent towards your superior officer - an award winning superior officer, mind you - by calling him old?”

“Pfft, I would never.” The grin on his face didn’t go away. Bradley rolled his eyes.

“Kopinski, I can have that my girl ruin any chance you have with Kennedy in a couple words, don’t fucking try me.” Hawkeye held his hands up in surrender. “You gonna chirp at me anymore or can I finally get a drink?”

Hawkeye waved a hand towards the bar. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your evening Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.”

With a chuckle, Bradley gave him a handshake and the two men said goodbye. As Bradley started walking towards the bar, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and checked the notification, quickly realizing it was actually your phone and the text was from a group chat with your dad and Mary. 

Have fun tonight sweetie! Send us pictures of you and Bradley 💕

He shuffled off to the side and smiled down at the screen. Even though he hadn’t met her in person, Bradley really liked Mary. You had said numerous times how you didn’t feel like Mary was your stepmom - she felt like your actual mom. The mom who had raised you. The one who had brought you to tennis matches and field hockey games, held you as you cried after your accident junior year, took you prom dress shopping, helped you unpack your dorm, and drove down with you to San Diego when you first moved all those years ago. 

She was your mom. And Bradley was so excited to meet her. And because of that, he knew he could get away with what he was about to do.

thanks! we’ll send pictures later

bradley looks sooo handsome in his uniform

A moment later your phone buzzed with a message from your dad:

He made you type that, didn’t he?

no comment 

As Bradley continued making his way over towards you at the bar, so was another aviator getting honored that evening - Hangman. 

It didn’t look like you saw him approach, you were chatting with the bartender and Bradley saw you hold up two fingers for both your drinks. He tried to get over to you faster, except a rear admiral stepped in front of him and tried to strike up a conversation. And while it may not have been particularly polite, Bradley brushed him off with a quick talk to you later in his haste to get over to you.

He didn’t want you to have to face Hangman alone. 

Because you didn’t forget things easily. And you’d told Bradley that all those months ago on your first date when you’d overheard Jake making fun of you, all you’d wanted to do was run back to the bathroom and cry. Because you hadn’t originally heard Bradley’s comments coming to your defense and telling Hangman to fuck off. 

All you’d heard was she could be kinda hot, if she cut out that whole type a, stick up her ass shit. It was similar to something the last guy you’d been with had said about you - too uptight, too focused on work, too prissy - too much - and you’d panicked.

Bradley didn’t think you were too much. 

His uptight, focused on work, prissy girlfriend was just right for him. And he made sure to tell you in a thousand different ways ever since. Because you deserved to be told how much you meant to him and how much he loved you. And in turn, you did the same for him.

And one way for him to show his love and support for you when you were already doing so much for him that evening was to not have to deal with Jake fucking Seresin any more than you needed to that evening. It was bad enough you already had to sit at the same table as him and whomever he had coerced into being his date.

By now, you’d gotten two glasses of champagne from the bartender and Bradley was just a couple long strides away, but Jake had beat him to you.

“Well, now who do you belong to, darlin’?” Even above the tin of chatter and the murmur of the band, Bradley could hear Hangman lay on the southern charm.

You turned to face him and the smile on your face from chatting with the bartender temporarily slipped as you took in the blond in front of you. Bradley closed the remaining distance to the bar, but you stopped him in his tracks with a look. He’d let you run with this - for now, at least.

“We’ve actually met before…” You leaned against the bar and cocked your hip out slightly. 

He clicked his tongue and Bradley would’ve killed to see the expression on Hangman’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, darlin’-”

“- Actually, you told my boyfriend to ditch me on our first date.” 

“Your boyfr - what? I don’t -” 

You smiled prettily and peered over Hangman’s shoulder, looking straight at Bradley. He closed the final gap between you and slapped Jake on the back in greeting before lightly pushing him out of the way to press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Hey, kid,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and then grabbing the glass of champagne you’d gotten him with his other hand. The look on Jake’s face was priceless. It normally took a lot to rattle Hangman and Bradley was rarely the one to do it. 

“Bagman.” He nodded towards him. “Heard the rumor you’re finally stateside again, I’m sure Coyote’s been keeping you up on things around -” 

“- Wait, this is your girl?” Recognition finally seemed to dawn on Jake and he gestured between the two of you. “You’re with - you guys are still together?” 

“Who do you think everyone’s been talking about for the last six months? She’s got a name, too.”

You held out your hand and offered your name. “I know you didn’t exactly catch it the first time we met.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Well, nice to officially meet you then.”

“You too,” you conceded, “and congratulations on your award.”

“Thanks, uhhh - so, you guys have been together for six months? That’s pretty…serious?”

Bradley frowned. Though the question had been oddly worded, to say the least, he didn’t think there was anything necessarily malicious about it? Hangman just seemed slightly uncomfortable with the idea of it. 

“I’d say so,” Bradley answered for you both, “you bring anyone to round out our table this evening? Pick anybody up in Misawa?” 

If at all possible, Jake looked even more uncomfortable than he did a moment ago. Briefly, Bradley thought he had embarrassed him since he didn’t have a date, but he had seen the extra place card at the table. 

Hangman cleared his throat. “Err kind of? She should be around here somewhere - uhhh Whiskey, I mean Sarah, went to put her purse down at the table.”

Whiskey. Sarah. Sarah Costigan.

As in Sarah Costigan Bradley’s ex-girlfriend Sarah Costigan. 

Shit. 

You knew plenty about Bradley’s ex’s. Or at least the big ones. The ones that he thought he had been in love with before he had met you and finally realized what it meant to be in love with someone. 

First there had been Elodie - a brief relationship when Bradley was in Pensacola for flight school. The two had hit it off after she spilt a drink on him while she was working at his favorite bar. They had broken up when he had been assigned to Norfolk, but she had been nice and kind when Bradley had gotten too far into his own head. 

Next came Sarah - Bradley’s girlfriend during and right after his first time at Top Gun. Whiskey was loud and brash and everything Bradley had wanted in a girlfriend at twenty-seven. They had been together for eight months - of which they had spent three in the same place - and Bradley’s orders back to Virginia had been the perfect excuse for things to end. 

And then there had been Ezra - Bradley’s first, real boyfriend beyond ‘drunkenly’ hooking up with one of his Sigma Chi brothers at UVA or some random guy at a bar. With Ezra it was different. They had met when Bradley had been volunteering at some off-base event for Habitat for Humanity and immediately clicked. Ezra and Bradley had been together for a little over a year and had been thinking of moving in together until Ezra recanted and said he didn’t actually want to have a family. And that was all it took for Bradley to realize that was really all he wanted.

So, at thirty-two years old, Bradley realized that his one true purpose, beyond being a pilot, was to be a dad and to be around for his kids in the way that his own father wasn’t. 

And so, Bradley and Ezra broke up and Bradley went on just about any overseas deployment he could possibly sign up for. It helped for a little while. Made him forget about his broken heart and realize what he really wanted. This was only further solidified when he came back to the States and reconnected with Maverick years later. 

And then Bradley had met you and - explosive first date and all - he knew you were it for him. He didn’t want anybody else. 

“Here she is,” Jake said and Sarah suddenly appeared beside him. 

Seemingly taking no notice of anyone else in their little quartet, Sarah wrapped her arms around Bradley’s neck and pulled him in for a hug - a long hug. The medals on her sash uncomfortably dug into his stomach. And sure, Bradley could admit that she looked good - he couldn’t deny that Sarah was and had always been attractive - but her red dress stood out terribly in a sea of muted whites, navys, blacks, and ivorys. 

“Hey, Roo!” She eventually let go of him.

“Oh - hey, Sarah.” Bradley then introduced the two of you and you smiled and held out your hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“I’d say you can call me Whiskey, but that’s only reserved for us pilots. You know, I always had a feeling Rooster wanted a civvy.” She winked, but the joke didn’t quite land. Though you maintained a neutral expression, both Bradley and Jake grimaced. “What do you do instead?”

“Oh, I work in consulting.”

“Consulting? Like - shit, what’s it called? Deloitte? Or what’s the other one?”

This time you couldn’t school your expression and made a face. Bradley realized it was tantamount to how he reacted whenever someone wrongly assumed he was in the Air Force. At least Sarah hadn’t said KPMG. 

“No, PwC. I’m a strategy and consumer markets consultant -” you still managed to respond cordially. 

“- Soon to be manager,” Bradley couldn’t help but brag. Though you ducked your head, he could tell it pleased you. 

Sarah huffed out a laugh. “Sorry, what does that mean exactly? Like I tell people I’m a naval aviator and that’s pretty self explanatory, but…”

“Oh! Right, well we help clients optimize and automate their supply chains and improve deal and product innovation, as well as their general program revenue management? So, uhh lots of watching the markets, looking at other companies, following trends - stuff like that.”

There was a brief lull once you finished your explanation and Bradley could feel the doubt creeping up on you. He squeezed your hip and cleared his throat. 

“Trust me, I listen in on her calls sometimes and we definitely have the easier job.” You and Jake laughed politely. “Well, uhh - we can all catch up during dinner, but this one and I have to make the rounds.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, yeah. No big, we’ve got a couple people to chat with, too. Promised I’d introduce Whiskey to Rear Admiral Cain, she’s a big fan.”

Fucking ass kisser. Bradley knew the people the two of you were going to chat with were actually his friends - not Captains and Admirals to pander to all evening. 

“It was nice meeting you, Sarah,” you nodded towards the other girl, who smiled, and then you turned towards Jake, “and always nice talking with you.”

With a final wave and promise to chat later, the terrible twosome made their way towards the bandstand where the upper brass were all hanging out. You relaxed your shoulders and looked up at Bradley. 

“Now why do I remember him being taller?” 

He just laughed and the two of you headed over to chat with Nat and the rest of the gang to take some pictures together and have some fun before dinner.  

-----------

“I’m impressed, no quips on how much all this is costing the government?”

You squeezed Bradley’s arm a little harder as you two made your way back to your table. The five minute warning for dinner had just been given and meandering from the squad’s table back to your own was taking some work to get through the crush. 

“Hey, I would rather my tax dollars be spent on a party than a bombing campaign in Yemen - shit, sorry.” For good measure, you both glanced around you to see if anyone had overheard. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to keep the commentary to a minimum. I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything.”

Bradley stopped you just shy of your table. “Hey, no, you’re fine, kid - perfect actually. And you haven’t even had to break out your talking points yet…” You chuckled. 

“Hard part hasn’t happened yet…” Oh in more ways than one.

“It’ll be fine, promise.” He didn’t know if he was reassuring you or himself. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and the two of you continued on your way towards your table. 

You were the last couple seated and Bradley was pleased to note that no one had moved your place cards. You gave Maverick and Penny hearty hugs, being sure to tell them both how nice they looked. (If you looked a little flustered under Mav’s gaze, Bradley was willing to forget it. For now, at least.) 

Everyone greeted each other cordially again and the table fell into perfunctory chit chat while waiting for the salad course to be delivered. Thankfully, Mav - though it was probably actually Penny - had the foresight to order the two of you dinner cocktails, which came soon after your salads. Once everyone got their barings, the chatter picked up again.

“So,” Emily started, looking between you and Bradley, “what’s been your longest deployment so far? Beau and I once lasted seven months - the poor kids were insufferable, I was a mess.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wow, uhh seven months? I think the longest we’ve had was ten days?” You looked to Bradley to confirm, but he shook his head. 

“Pretty sure it was fifteen…” You cocked your head, while Bradley turned to Emily, “this one here was off in Europe on a work trip a couple weeks back - where’d they send you again? England, Ireland, Germany?”

“Oh - yeah. I didn’t even think about that one.” You looked touched that he had brought it up and equated it to a deployment. 

It happened around four months into your relationship, actually right before Bradley had been sent off to Taiwan for the Speaker’s visit. The fifteen days had been agony. Bradley had walked around his house listlessly after work, so used to having you over at his place to make dinner or watch TV together that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself - didn’t know how he had done this before you. 

So, it was during those fifteen days that Bradley had realized he was in love with you. He had almost blurted it out after the two of you had finished your second go round at phone sex. Admittedly, the first time had not been successful after you had kept telling him that his dirty talk wasn’t quite dirty enough - I need a story, Bradley! But he hadn’t wanted to scare you off. 

It was too soon, just about four months. Could you really fall in love in four months?

Well, yes, you could. And yes, you had felt the same way, too. 

“…Our global headquarters is in London, but they also sent me to Dublin, Munich, and Berlin. I’m on this new account at work, hoping to get this -”

Emily practically groaned. “- Oh, I don’t know how girls your age do it nowadays! I can barely find time to do all my errands everyday before Beau comes home -” at this Admiral Simpson grunted in acknowledgment “- and don’t even get me started on if the kids are back from college!”

You both smiled politely and then Emily spoke again. “But you know, a little work trip’s not quite a deployment now, is it?”

A little work trip. 

“It sure felt like it to me,” Bradley said seriously, daring Emily fucking Simpson to say something else about his girl. You squeezed his hand under the table.

“Of course, of course - oh, wait!” Emily stretched her hand across the table, somehow reaching across Cyclone to do so. “I’ll have to set something up with you, get you involved on the base more. We do a lot of give back opportunities - me and all the other girls, you see - especially around the holidays for the community. Sherri Callaghan and I are taking up the charge this year!”

You set your salad fork down. “Oh? Uhh - when do you normally meet?”

He couldn’t tell if you were just being polite. Your company was really big on giving back - you’d mentioned their donation match program every time you donated to Emily’s List or Feeding America - but Emily Simpson wasn’t someone Bradley could envision you spending prolonged periods of time with - at least if you wanted to keep your sanity intact. 

Emily smiled, seeming to think she’d gotten her claws into you. “We meet every other Thursday at the Coronado Golf Course, right near the base. We have a set room and everything in the clubhouse - twelve-thirty sharp!”

“I’m sorry, Emily.” You actually sounded apologetic. “I don’t think I’d be able to get away from the office at that time, but definitely keep me in the loop with the emails and whatnot? I can give you my card later? I think I have some in my purse.” 

You didn’t. Bradley knew you had your license, Amex, room key, a tube of lipgloss, and a condom in there. 

Emily looked slightly put out for a moment, before pasting a smile on her face again. “Of course, I forget not everyone is as privileged in that regard! You working girls!” 

She sounded slightly patronizing, but neither you nor Bradley called her out on it. At least not directly.

“What can I say, they barely let us up for air,” you joked. 

And with that, the conversation moved on to include the other parties at the table. Whiskey, Cyclone, and Hangman were talking about Misawa, while Mav and Penny politely asked questions when appropriate, giving the two of you a slight reprieve to finish your salad and bread. Bradley took two rolls and packets of butter out of the basket and wordlessly handed you a roll, a packet of butter following a moment later once he had sufficiently warmed it up in his hands. You gave him a quick smile and he responded with a wink - just a little moment between the two of you.

The food was pretty good so far, but Bradley had also been starving. While chatting with the rest of the squad, he had had three more crab rangoons, which had been washed down with two rounds of tequila shots for the entire team. It would have been fun to sit with all of them, probably would’ve put your mind at ease, too, but you both understood that since Bradley was getting honored with an award, it made sense to sit with his fellow award winners and the commanding officer on the mission. 

He just wished Whiskey hadn’t been there. It was awkward and had definitely been a subtle dig at Bradley from Jake. At least you had known about Sarah in the most basic sense - Bradley had definitely won that breakup - but it was always awkward seeing your partner’s ex. He didn’t know how he’d react to seeing Jack in person. Apparently, Jack hadn’t been the best boyfriend, but he hadn’t been the worst either. 

“So,” Jake said your name, “you got family around here?” 

You tilted your head back and forth, trying to finish chewing faster, before you answered. “My mo - my step-mom and dad are up in Berkeley. We moved down there from Santa Rosa when I was little.”

“NorCal gal...”

Sarah exaggerated a shudder and stabbed at her salad. “God, I could never live above SLO, it’s frigid - and I don’t just mean the weather.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bradley noticed your champagne glass briefly still before it got to your mouth. He cleared his throat. “I’m looking forward to heading up there, actually. Haven’t been upstate in ages. We’re going for Thanksgiving.”

It wasn’t a lie. He was looking forward to spending time with your family. Was he also nervous as hell to meet your dad and Mary? Without question. But he was looking forward to getting to know them and seeing where you had grown up. 

“Well, how long have you lived here?” Sarah asked.

“Since I graduated - I got a job at my firm right after college.” 

“And that’s how many…”

“Oh - uhh let’s see, six years ago - what?” you asked at the mischievous smile on Whiskey’s face. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just didn’t realize there was that much of a gap between the two of you. Looks like you got your civvy and a spring chicken, Roo.”

Though you didn’t outwardly show it - or at least not in a way Sarah and Jake would notice - the comment had bothered you. Eight years was not a huge gap in a relationship - at least not twenty-right to thirty-six. Sure, you made the occasional comment about Bradley’s creaky joints or bad back, but the two of you never really brought it up. 

It just wasn’t a big thing for either of you. Sure, sometimes Bradley thought about how old he’d be when you had kids - not that he thought about it a lot or anything - but it never really gave him pause or brought about any malicious comments like what Sarah was implying.

“I don’t think I’d put it like that -”

And then because she clearly didn’t understand that she’d said something wrong, Sarah kept talking. “How’d you two meet then?”

“We met on Hinge,” you said. That normally elicited two reactions from people: lighthearted jealousy that things actually worked out between you two on a dating app or not-so-passive judgment.

“Oh,” she hummed, “I’ve never really had to use one of those before. You always hear such horror stories…”

Bradley threw his arm over the back of your chair, pulling you even closer to him. “I’m convinced we would’ve met anyway.” He only had eyes for you as he said it.

A couple seats down, Mav and Penny looked a little skeptical. “Oh, really? Then how come we haven’t heard about this before?” Penny teased.

You chuckled and looked to Bradley to continue. “Alright, alright,” he started, “we have this friend, Max - great guy, really - that we both knew separately. But he’s convinced that he was going to set the two of us up anyway.”

You nodded. “We didn’t find out that I was the girl he was trying to set Bradley up with until a couple months ago, actually. But it’s kinda crazy to think about. Things just happen for a reason, I guess.”

“And this way I got to meet you earlier and find out how amazing you are on my own.” 

Penny cooed, knowing it would embarrass him, while Mav reached over the back of your chair to ruffle Bradley’s hair. 

It went without saying, though it really should be something he actually said more often, but for the last year or so Mav and Penny had been Bradley’s biggest supporters - with everything. 

From when he had asked them to look at houses with him and eventually buying one, to going over their house for the holidays, having them over for dinner, playing golf and going sailing together as a family with Amelia, to finally meeting you: they were there for Bradley. And loathe as he may have been to admit it a year ago, getting Mav’s approval of the girl he was dating meant a lot. 

A lot. 

It was almost like if his mom and dad - no, it was like if his mom and dad had approved of you. Because that was who Mav was to Bradley. And this past year had just confirmed that to him. Bradley had gone back for Maverick - had saved his life - at a time when he didn’t even like him. 

But he still loved him. He was his family and he loved him. Always had.

He wondered how Maverick would get along with your dad and Mary? They were of a similar generation, that had to count for something? He could totally see them hanging out and laughing together at the holidays, mainly Mary and Mav teasing your dad. (On the other hand, Bradley had a feeling Maverick and your mother wouldn’t get along terribly well, but he didn’t necessarily see that being a character flaw on Mav’s part.)

Like parents, they gave him advice and made sure he knew he was always welcome at their house and that they loved him. And it was so nice because it was something Bradley had been missing for so long. Missing having someone older, someone who loved him, looking out for him.

And sure, he had friends and colleagues that looked out for him, but they didn’t really know him. They didn’t really know Bradley. And he really liked just being Bradley sometimes. It was like that with you, too. And he had told you so last week, but he realized he needed to tell you that more often. 

Sometimes he felt spoiled. Like the other shoe was going to drop - and he’d lose you or get into another disagreement with Mav and he’d be all alone again. And Bradley had gotten used to not being alone anymore.

He felt himself getting flustered, unsettled. Like his bow tie was too tight. Like the medals and ribbons on his chest were too heavy. He heard your soft laugh and then his name echo through his ears. 

Slowly, he fell back into himself, realizing that he was very much not alone at the moment. That he was seated about a table with three of the people that meant the most to him in the entire world and that he was getting honored for saving one of them. That your hand was on his knee under the table grounding him to you. That you loved him. That you were there with him - for him. 

You squeezed his knee and he snapped his eyes up from his old fashioned, humming his acknowledgment. “Yeah?”

“Jake asked if we’re going to Natasha’s Halloween party?”

“Yeah, looking forward to it.” He left it at that, still a little shaken, but almost back to his normal self. 

Luckily, you chimed in with some additional details. “He’s going as Ted Lasso - blame the mustache,” you joked, getting chuckles from around the table - except from Admiral Simpson, who just grunted. 

Emily’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we love Ted Lasso! Such a cute little show! Do you have the Nikes and the sweater?”

You chuckled. “Yea, we even got him a visor.”

“Awww, that’ll be perfect - oh! And who are you going to be, one of the players?”

There was a pause before you replied. “Uhh, no. Either Rebecca or Sassy, I’m still undecided. Neither are too much of a stretch costume-wise, but it’ll be fun!”

“Fun for you…” Bradley grumbled, but without malice, trying to lighten the mood. You nudged his shoulder. 

“Oh, come on. You can pick next time, promise.” 

After another sip of your champagne, you turned back to Emily to continue the conversation, but Whiskey interrupted you. “So, Ted Lasso, are you big football fans then?”

Bradley looked at you and you both shrugged. “I’ll watch a Premier League match if I’m bored on a Saturday and we went to a San Diego Wave game when they played the Thorns, but not really?”

“Well,” Sarah preened, “I’m a huge Arsenal and Juventus fan. I was just gutted when Italy didn’t qualify.” Sure she was. “I’m rooting for Portugal in the World Cup.”

Conversation soon shifted onto next month’s event, with Jake supporting Argentina and Mav saying he had money on England going to the semis, then the question was turned on you. 

“Oh, I typically root for England, too, but I don’t know, I feel a bit conflicted about it this time around - not that I didn’t last time in Russia, but -” 

“- What?” Sarah interrupted, “you don’t like that it’s in Qatar?” She said it wrong. 

You nodded. “Actually, yeah. I think FIFA knows it can only get away with hosting the tournament in countries that can meet their outrageous expectations of stadiums and hotels and athletes villages if they award it to countries who give little thought as to how the job actually gets done? Lack of oversight on building practices, labor laws, and government corruption may be unethical, but they can get you a marquee sporting event like a World Cup or Olympic bid.

“And the country becomes so dependent on preparing for the event and ‘employing’ the laborers and ‘providing’ all these jobs that they don’t take into consideration what happens when the cranes come down and the tourists leave? Don’t even get me started on the fact that the matches have to be played at night and in the late fall since it’s so hot -”

“- Then where should they have these marquee sporting events, oh-wise-one?” Jake quipped. 

You shrugged. “I don’t know, someone paid more than me can figure it out, but until then,” you toasted your champagne flute, “I’m entitled to my opinion.”

“Well said,” Mav chimed in and toasted his glass to you. 

“I agree,” Cyclone chimed in for the first time. “FIFA on the whole is inherently corrupt - it needs a complete overhaul. More’s the pity for me, I always look forward to the matches, but am feeling similarly this year.”

No one quite knew what to say next, but Admiral Simpson was saved by the delivery of the main course and everyone quickly dug in once the whole table had been served. 

“These short ribs are excellent,” Cyclone said after a lengthy pause, accompanied only by the band doing a fairly decent rendition of Beyond the Sea. Bradley stifled his snort with a bite of his short ribs - which were in fact excellent - and out of the corner of his eye saw you doing something similar. 

Of all the people to try and keep the conversation going at the table, Bradley hadn’t thought it would be Cyclone. 

Ultimately, it was Penny who truly saved the day by asking how the Simpsons kids were doing at college. Her and Amelia were planning a couple visits in the spring and she wanted to know if Emily had any tips. Mary had already promised Amelia, Penny, and Maverick a behind the scenes tour of Berkeley over winter break, but one of the Simpsons went to USC, which Amelia was also interested in touring.

The six of you talked about college and upcoming holiday plans and whatnot for the remainder of the entree portion of the evening, while Jake and Sarah mainly chatted amongst themselves. You even remembered to bring up meeting a wonderful lieutenant who’s actually part of your Top Gun class, Admiral Simpson. Oh, Bradley what was his name again? Lieutenant Kopinski, right?

It was really nice, the ease with which the six of you chatted - well, maybe the five of you since Cyclone didn’t say much - but Bradley felt like you both really belonged. Like you had both passed some sort of test. He was proud of you, obviously, but he was also proud of himself. And he didn’t let himself be proud of himself very often.

Just then, the emcee for the evening came up to the microphone, saying the awards presentation would begin in five minutes. Bradley felt his stomach sink. Of all things he had to think about leading up to that evening, he’d given little thought to the actual awards presentation itself until earlier that evening. 

Would he have to stand up there in front of everyone? It was a small consideration that he knew Maverick didn’t like stuff like this either and he seemed relaxed? Or maybe he was just good at hiding it. It would be fine, it would be fine - you grabbed his hand underneath the table and gave it a little squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, I’m proud of you, bubs. No matter what,” you said for his ears only. 

Bradley squeezed your hand back, ready to say something further, except he was interrupted by Admiral Simpson calling for the table’s attention.

“Now, before I go up there and give the official, fully sanctioned version of this speech, I just want to say that I know some time has passed and some of you have gone onto different detachments and have different commanding officers, but I want you all to know that despite some aspects of the mission not going exactly to plan, I am very proud of the three of you. The success of that mission was one of the highlights of my career thanks in large part to your heroics that day and I am eternally grateful that you’re all sitting in front of me with your partners and colleagues cheering you on - that is all.”

“Well said, sir.” You nodded towards the admiral before smiling at Bradley. It made him feel about ten feet tall.

Everyone raised their glasses. “Cheers” echoed throughout the table and everyone took a hearty sip of their drink, Bradley’s a little more hearty than the others.

He discreetly reached behind your chair and poked Maverick’s shoulders. Mav gave Bradley a probing look and he flushed, embarrassed. “Do you think we uhh - we have to go up there? For the presentation and everything?”

A look of understanding crossed the older man’s face. “Hope we don’t, but if we do, you can stand behind me.”

“I don’t think that’ll help…” you quipped from between them and they both chuckled, tuning back into the others’ conversation. 

“- Meanwhile, Rooster was concussed out of his mind, pretty sure the NFL is using him as a CTE case study,” Hangman quipped.

At your shocked expression, Bradley tried to backpedal. It was stuff like this that reminded him why he wanted to keep his Navy life separate. You were really touchy about head injuries after your accident in high school. 

“That’s just a working theory, my test results were inconclusive -”

Jake cut him off. “ - Mav, back me up here.” 

Everyone turned towards the older pilot, who clearly hated being put on the spot. He tried to hide behind his drink, but eventually muttered out: “No comment.”

You leaned in to whisper in Bradley’s ear. “I’ve got a couple questions for you later, rocketman…” He knew that was coming. 

The band brought Fly Me to the Moon to a close before the final chorus as the emcee, Commander Davis, got back on stage to start the awards presentation. Luckily, you two were on the correct side of the table and didn’t have to turn around to face the stage like Hangman, Whiskey, and Emily did.

“Evening everyone! And what a lovely evening it is out here in Coronado. I’m sorry to drag you away from your delicious desserts and conversations, but it is time for us to celebrate the men and women we are honoring tonight throughout the Pacific Fleet.” There was polite applause. “Tonight’s award winners are being honored for their heroic efforts both in and out of the line of duty and will first be introduced by their commanding officer and then presented with their medal of distinction.” 

Well that cleared up the question of whether Bradley had to go on stage or not. Shit.

Commander Davis waited until the applause died down again. “Now, please let me call Captain Alexandra Caldwell to the stage to introduce our first award winner for this evening, Lieutenant Emma Vance!”

Both Lieutenant Vance and Captain Caldwell received a standing ovation as they took their place on the stage, with Lieutenant Vance standing just off to the side as her commanding officer took the mic. Once everyone settled down, Captain Caldwell started her speech. 

“Thank you, everyone, for such a warm welcome. I am thrilled to be here tonight to honor the kind, thoughtful, caring, and damn hard worker Lieutenant Emma Vance for her efforts in spearheading our local Covenant House chapter and sleepout…”

You leaned over to whisper in his ear. “My office works with them, too. I had no idea you guys had something on base with them.” 

Bradley shrugged. He hadn’t either. Seeming to understand you weren’t going to get a response out of him, you just squeezed his hand. 

He knew you could tell he was nervous and he appreciated your efforts to put him at ease. Throughout the rest of the speech, you kept glancing over at him and smiling softly, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. 

It felt nice. It grounded him. Distracted him. And right now, he needed to distract himself. Focus on something else. Something like you. 

Admittedly, Bradley had been pretty proud of himself for having relatively chaste thoughts about you all evening - less carnal, more prideful. You had handled everything with such aplomb and grace, even the totally unexpected addition of Sarah to your table, and had made a surprising ally in Cyclone. But as Captain Caldwell droned on and on about Lieutenant Vance’s philanthropic efforts in the community, Bradley knew he was fighting a losing battle. (That wasn’t exactly fair to Lieutenant Vance, who Bradley was sure did an amazing job organizing the Pacific Fleet’s largest ever sleepout to raise money for homeless youth in San Diego. He was just stressed.)

It was that damn slit. And the fact that he knew what he would find if it inched up just a hair higher. If he could just brush his hand against your thigh…

Because dammit he wanted your attention. Luckily, the slit was on the leg next to Bradley - not Maverick, which if there ever was a buzzkill to exist, it was Bradley’s pseudo-father figure. 

That’s not to say that the two of you were into gratuitous PDA to begin with - he wasn’t about to finger fuck you at the table. You were a lady and Bradley wasn’t an animal. He was thirty-six, he could control himself. 

Instead, it was typically a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, an arm around each other’s shoulders or waist. It took a lot for both of you to really go at it in public. And Bradley wasn’t exactly going to start at an event with all his colleagues and superior officers. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about it or say anything to you. Kinda made it a little more fun that way anyway. It drew out the anticipation. 

And Bradley really wanted to draw out the anticipation that night. 

How would he start? You had been adamant that he was not going to have to take off your boob tape, which he couldn’t say he was really broken up over, but that probably meant he wouldn���t be the one to take your dress off. No, he’d wait for you to freshen up, get comfortable, get situated, see if that underwear was a matching set you were going to break out later. 

Maybe you would have a drink together on the patio in your room, snuggle up against each, debrief the evening, or even fawn a bit over Bradley in his uniform (he was only human, alright)? Eventually, you would crawl onto his lap, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him close. He would become acquainted with whichever frothy piece of negligee was covering your breasts, all while you sighed and sighed, saying: 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Please, please, please. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

He wondered how many he could get out of you? How many times could he make you cum? Until you were a whiny, desperate, cock dumb mess, squirming underneath him? He felt his pants tightening at the thought. He wanted to be in charge tonight - he needed to be in charge tonight, especially since it was the one thing about that evening that he could actually control. He would still give you a choice - or at least the allusion of one - though. It gave him an idea.

“Hey,” Bradley whispered in your ear. You hummed, but didn’t look away from the stage. “Pick a number, one to five?”

At this, you did turn your head to look at him. “What? What does -” 

“- One to five…”

You looked like you were doing some sort of mental math in your head. “Five?”

Fuck him - five. He was going to have to accept this award with one hell of a semi if he didn’t calm himself down. Because he could do five. He got at least two or three out of you normally - five shouldn’t be too much of a stretch. He could do it - you on the other hand…

Bradley just smirked. “Five it is then.”

“Okay…” you muttered and went back to paying attention. But before he knew it, he found his mind drifting again - and this time the results weren’t as pleasant and were definitely a mood killer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cyclone get up from his spot and sneak off to the side of the stage. Shit, it was coming. Bradley could see the row of three medals, made even more bright and shiny and special, reflecting off the string lights overhead. He was going to have to wear that all night. He was going to have to wear that on his uniform forever. He was going to have to wear that and be reminded of the time he almost died - of the time Maverick almost died - forever. It would always be on his dress uniform, glaring up at him. Faker, faker, faker, fak -

You squeezed his hand, angling his body towards yours. 

“It’ll be over before you know it and then you can come back and dance with me, step on my toes all night if you need to, bubs.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” The words had barely left your lips when Bradley heard the call for him, Maverick, and Hangman to get onstage. 

He didn’t remember any of it. 

Someone, he assumed Cyclone, put the medal on his uniform. There were probably some words of congratulations or encouragement. Maybe even some clapping.

He didn’t remember any of it. 

Except…

When he walked back to his seat, the only person he could focus on was you and your smile that was just for him. That was just for Bradley. Because to you, he was just Bradley. Your Bradley. 

He walked a little faster to get back to his seat, blindly nodding to all his well wishers amidst the applause, but all he wanted to do was be in your arms, give you a hug, spin you around, and have you five ways till Sunday. 

Once he bridged the final gap between you, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a fierce hug. He squeezed you just as tightly in return, even picking you up off your feet a bit, and the two of you just stood there for a moment. Bradley didn’t care if anyone was staring - let ‘em. Let them see how much he was loved and how much he loved you in return.

“You did it, bubs,” you whispered in his ear as he finally set you down. The pride and joy and love in your face set all his nerves to rest.

He chuckled dryly and glanced around as the crowd settled back into their seats, keen for the rest of the evening’s festivities to start. All the tension in his shoulders was gone, he felt ten pounds lighter. 

“Hope you took some pictures because I don’t remember any of that.” 

“You looked very…dashing,” you eventually decided upon. 

He scoffed. “Dashing?”

“Hey, you’re the one ready to whip out the thesaurus at any given opportunity, not me.” Bradley exaggerated an eye-roll, acting very much like a six year old than a thirty-six year old. “Fine, let’s go with debonair - no? Dapper? Sharp? Handsome? Suave? No, no - I got one.” 

He gave you a probing look and you cupped his cheek before replying. “Beautiful. You looked beautiful, Bradley.”

He broke eye contact, so taken aback and flustered by the sincerity in your words. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he loved you so much. 

So, he said it.

“I love you, too, bubs.” You kissed him on the lips this time. It didn’t last for too long, but it was just what he had needed.

Through the fog of Bradley’s brain, the opening guitar riff from My Girl seemed louder than any of the songs playing earlier in the evening as the first droves of couples made their way onto the dance floor. 

Not one to let a perfect opportunity pass by, let alone one that would keep you in his arms, Bradley held his hand out to you, palm side up, wordlessly asking you to dance. There was just the slightest hesitation on your part, barely a moment for you to teasingly bite your lip in thought, before you clasped his hand with your own. 

And then you were off. 

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

Later that evening, on his way back from having a celebratory cigar with Maverick, Fanboy, and Bob, Bradley easily spotted you on the dancefloor with Phoenix, Rory, and Halo, dancing to Wouldn’t It Be Nice. You looked so happy and carefree dancing with the three of them. Normally, Bradley wouldn’t have deserted you, but Phoenix and Halo promised to take care of you and it gave you and Rory a chance to catch up. 

After dinner, the two of you had danced for the better part of an hour, your dance moves getting sillier and sillier the more champagne you both had. It was fun, dancing to a live band under the cloudless October sky and knowing the hard part of the evening was over. You had originally worried that you would get chilly in your dress later in the evening, but you had to beg Bradley to take a breather after he broke out into an impassioned and impromptu dance routine to Rich Girl. Hopefully, there would be some slower music as the night wore on and you two could just sway back and forth -

“Rooster!” He heard Hangman calling his name. “Bradshaw?”

The blond finally caught up to him. “What’s up?”

If Bradley didn’t know any better, he would say Hangman looked contrite. “Listen, I wanted to say something earlier, but we were always around other people, so I just - I didn’t know you’d be here with your girl - I mean, I didn’t know that your date would be her. Shit, that didn’t come out right.” Jake took a deep breath. “I didn’t know the girl you were bringing tonight was your long term girlfriend and I sure as hell didn’t know it was the same one from that night before Japan.”

“Okay?”

“I mainly brought Whiskey to fuck with you - not your girl. So, if that made things awkward between you guys or anything then I’m sorry. You guys seem good together.”

It might’ve been the champagne, the general atmosphere, or the fact that while accepting their award Bradley was brutally reminded of the fact that Jake saved both his and Maverick’s lives, but Bradley believed him. He believed that Jake hadn’t been that casually cruel. 

Granted, he was still Hangman and wanted to fuck with him. But he hadn’t done it as a slight to you. He hadn’t purposely tried to make you feel less than. 

“And Whiskey and I have been seeing each other for the past couple weeks, but I probably wouldn’t have actually brought her with me tonight were it not for the fact that it would needle you, but yeah - that’s just shitty? So, we square?”

Bradley held his hand out. “Yeah, we’re good, Hangman.” He looked so relieved that Bradley felt compelled to keep the conversation going as long as Whiskey didn’t pop up anytime soon. “So, uhh you guys staying over?”

“Yeah,” Jake paused to take a sip of his drink, “we got one of those cabanas rooms, think Maverick did, too.”

Interesting. He was going to file away that piece of information for later. “You guys check in late or…” 

Jake nodded. “Yeah, Whiskey - Sarah had a thing this morning -”

A blurred figure in ivory cut Jake off as you practically ran into Bradley, looking a little giddy. “It’s your song, Bradley!” 

Sure enough, the starting notes to You Make Me Feel So Young echoed across the dance floor and he bit back a smile. “Then I guess we gotta dance, kid.” 

“Sorry,” you explained to Jake, “I gotta steal him away.”

Jake took it all in stride. “You kids have your fun, I think I’m gonna head out soon anyway. Still on Japan time. Goodnight.”

You and Bradley returned the sentiments and made your way back onto the dancefloor, passing by Penny and Maverick, who shot him a wink. “What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you later.” You raised an eyebrow in question, but took his proffered hand and got into a hold. “I promise, I just want to dance and talk to you - how was hanging out with the squad?”

“It was nice, I haven’t talked to Rory in a couple weeks - ever since I introduced them and Nat - so it was good to catch up. And then Callie walked me through her shoe debacle and - I guess it’s just been nice finally putting faces to all the names I’ve heard over the past couple months.” Bradley hummed. “Admiral Simpson, Mr. Coleman -”

“- Oh, Hondo is going to get a kick out that - Mr. Coleman -”

You ignore him. “- Mickey’s girlfriend Cielo, Commander Davis, Sarah…”

Instinctively, Bradley pulled you closer towards him. “Lots of interesting characters around these parts.”

“She’s pretty…” You didn’t need to clarify who you were talking about - as much as Bradley thought Cielo was pretty, he knew you meant Sarah.

“She’s also annoying - you really didn’t know what she looked like?”

“I’ve never looked up any of your exes,” you admitted, “Didn’t want to compare myself or anything. Plus, I’d probably cyberbully the fuck out of Ezra, piece of shit…”

Bradley felt his cheeks warm up at your protectiveness and pulled back to look you in the eye. “You wanna know a secret? I looked up yours.”

“What? Really?” 

“Mmhhmm.” He brought you back into the proper hold, except this time he laid his hand a little lower on your back. “And as much as it pains me to say this, kid, Jack has a receding hairline and is selling condos up in Torrey Pines.”

You let out something between a chuckle and a gasp. “You’re kidding?” Bradley shook his head, knowing he looked entirely too pleased about this. “He’s only - what, thirty? And he already has a receding hairline?”

“I can show you the picture when we get back to the table if you really want?” You giggled and it lit up your whole face. Bradley didn’t think he’d ever been more in love with you. 

He’d do anything to see you keep smiling like that, anything to let you know how thankful he was for all you’d done that night: for forgiving him for being an ass and not initially inviting you, for letting everyone else fall in love with how capable, smart, witty, and beautiful you were, for offering Bradley a reassuring word or squeeze of his hand when he got too inside his head, and for dancing with him when his colleagues became too much.

Plus, the five orgasms he was going to try and pull out of you later would also put a smile on your face - hopefully a dumb one. Should he tell you now and let the anticipation build? Or wait until later when you were back in the room and he could go into explicit detail of how he would drag each one out of you?

He smiled, feeling just a little cocky. Was it too early to leave? Drag you back to the room, fuck you out, order room service, and watch the end of Saturday Night Live? Couldn’t hurt to ask -

“Have you -”

“Do you think we could - sorry, you go first,” he said. 

You leaned back a little bit in your hold to look him in the eye. “You ever give any thought to what rank you want to retire at?” So much for his plan. Bradley furrowed his brow. “You retire as one more than what you are, right?”

“Yeah…I guess I haven’t thought about it too much? I don’t really know what I’d do instead? I mean, the Navy’s all I’ve ever really known?” You considered this. “But - I don’t know - I’m not really sure I could see myself as - did you know with Mav’s rank he’s technically the commanding officer of an aircraft carrier?”

Your jaw dropped, just a little. “No way? Is that something you’d want to do?”

“Maybe? I don’t know? I can be a Commander in about two years - if all goes well. And then I’d officially have my own squadron.” 

“Might be nice to be a Captain like Mav?” It would be cool to be a Captain. Growing up, all Bradley had wanted to be was like Maverick - everyone always got it twisted thinking he wanted to be like his dad, but his dad had been an RIO, not a pilot - it just made sense that he would want to follow in his footsteps now, too. “Everyone could call you Captain? Like Captain Von Trapp in the Sound of Music?”

He laughed. “We gonna have seven kids, too?”

“Hmmm good point, maybe six then?” 

“Funny.” 

The gave him a long look, like you were trying to figure something. "Who are you tonight, the Numbers King? First all that pick a number stuff and now we're the Von Trapps with our seven kids?"

Bradley smirked. Fuck he couldn't wait for you to find out. "Wouldn't you like to know...."

“I’ll figure it out.”

You both danced in silence for the final part of the song, until it transitioned out into something slower and more sultry. The amount of couples on the dance floor had thinned slightly, with some of the older crowd heading home or to their hotel rooms. 

“Hey, bubs?” Bradley hummed. “I know that having all of this come up again is resurfacing a lot of mixed feelings for you tonight, but I just want you to know that I’m proud of you every night and I love you every night. Not just when everyone else sees how amazing you are.”

He knew he was blushing like crazy. From the tips of his ears down to his neck, he was pink. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. No one had ever bestowed that amount of love and kindness towards Bradley since before his mom had passed away. God, he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you. His beautiful, kind, and clever girl. With eyes just for you.

“Thank you for making the night easier for me. I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Just having you by my side helped more than you’ll probably ever know.”

You dunked your head and tried to hide how flustered he had made you by glancing around the dance floor, watching all the couples around you with mixed interest. This, of course, meant your attention was not on Bradley and that would just not do. But the soft smile on your face quickly fell and you tensed. 

He followed your gaze and found it on Rear Admiral Porter, the asshole from after the Speaker’s visit. That one’s got quite a mouth on her. You retreated into yourself a little and Bradley had half a mind to go over and demand an apology, but he knew you would loathe making a scene. Plus, Porter probably didn’t even remember the incident even though you and Bradley did. 

“Hey, none of that.” He slipped his right hand lower on your bare back and pulled you even closer. You gasped at the sudden movement - and probably at the fact that Bradley’s hand was cupping the top of your ass in a way that was verging on indecent. “Weren't you just saying how proud of me you are? Eyes on me, kid” he teased.

Your eyes met and you seemed to center yourself. A teasing smile crept across your face. “Why? Do you only have eyes for me?” you asked, referencing the song playing. 

In response, he pulled you closer and you dug your fingers into his shoulder. “‘S my gala, want you lookin’ at me…”

“Aww, bubs,” you giggled. “Sorry, it’s just fun watching everyone - well, almost everyone. Maybe I’ll even let Pete take me for a spin again…”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and spun you out and back into him. “Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“Oh come on,” you whispered, “you don’t need to pull out all the stops tonight. You already saw your present for later…”

The piano melody from I Only Have Eyes for You faded out and transitioned into It’s Not for Me to Say. You both swayed in time. 

“True - hey, you know,” he said lightly, “I’ve behaved all night - barely touched you in a way that wasn’t befitting my station, but that hasn't stopped my thoughts from being decidedly less chaste…”

“Oh? What do you mean, Lieutenant Commander?”

It was almost too easy. For someone so clever, you always somehow managed to fall right into his trap. Or maybe Bradley had fallen right into yours? You had never called him that before. Lieutenant Commander. He didn’t think it would have as much of an effect on him as it did. You both continued dancing, not missing a step or bringing your voices above a whisper. 

“Wanted to slip my hand up the slit of that dress at dinner, skirt the edge of those panties I saw earlier. Can’t wait to unwrap my present.” He could feel you suck in a breath. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you wore a white dress -”

“- It’s ivory -” you corrected needlessly, but Bradley ignored you. 

“- trying to be all innocent when you and I both know how fucking desperate you are for me to fuck you. Bet I could take you right now - right off the dance floor - and you’d squirt all over my cock. Because you’ve been wet all night, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

You let out a pathetic whimper and rested your head against Bradley’s chest, skirting around all the ribbons and medals. To the outside observer, it would have just looked like you were tired or had gotten caught up in the music. But Bradley knew better. 

“I asked you a question, kid,” he whispered in your ear, “you’ve been wet all night, haven’t you?”

“Yes - I’m sorry, Bradley. I couldn’t help myself.”

He clicked his tongue. God, you were fucking putty in his hands. He loved whenever you got like this. It didn’t happen often, but he knew you liked it as much as he did. How fucking needy and desperate and submissive he could get you with some words - and on a dance floor surrounded by his colleagues, too. You would both be the epitome of grace and class out on the dancefloor, but after the band wrapped up and the bar gave its last call?

Fuck. 

He was going to have so much fun with you back in the room. 

Five times. Five times. Five times. 

And you had no idea. 

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

[next part]

a/n: thanks to everyone for sticking with me and being so supportive while i wrote and revised and wrote and revised - again. i'm definitely my own biggest critic, so special thanks to tiernan, kylie, cass, loren, and alexa for talking me off the ledge a couple times - hope you all enjoyed this part and look forward to the next 😉 (five times!!!)

#bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley fic #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine

[shoot-the-oneshot]

PAPER RINGS

Based on this idea with the ring from Purple Hearts.

The one where rooster can’t find the perfect ring

Hangman version Young Maverick version

“Woah!” Maverick yelled being pulled into an empty classroom, “Rooster?” He asked seeing the pilot start to pace once the door shut. “I need your help Mav.” Since Bradley could tie his shoes he hasn’t asked maverick for help so this spiked his stress levels. “It's Y/N.” Rooster mumbled out. “What happened to Y/N?” If Bradley was the son he never had you were the daughter he was incredibly protective over you.

“Something happened to Y/N!” Rooster froze worry overcoming his entire body as he quickly looked out the window where he knew your jet would be soaring through the air. “That’s what you said!” Maverick yelled, making Rooster throw his arms in the air. “No, I didn’t, you did.” The men quieted down the stress of something happening you calming. “What did you need help with?”

“I want to marry her.”

“Kid that’s great but why’d you have to stress me out first come here,” Maverick said pulling the other man into him for a hug wishing that Goose was here to see his boy all grown up. Rooster rolled his eyes at the last comment.

“Will you help me pick out a ring?” Maverick had never been so happy to be invited to a jewelry store before but for the two kids coming together he couldn’t wait. Until they got there, then he slightly regretted it he should’ve known really. Goose was the same way when he went shopping for Carols.

“Do you like any of these?” Maverick asked glancing down at the glass cases of engagement rings. Rooster looked silently. He knew for sure he wanted to marry you, but he had no idea what type of ring you wanted. Thinking back on it he really should’ve asked Phoenix.

“No, they’re just not right.” He sighed, shaking his head, he knew if his mom and dad were there they’d know exactly what to do. maverick who had never been married was just as lost as Bradley, but he tried his best, “just, Just look at the rings, and when you see one that makes you feel the way you do when you look at Y/N that’s the one.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” With his newfound outlook, he spent probably another two hours looking from ring to ring, and nothing felt right. “Can I see the last one again?” He sheepishly asked, he know that the poor saleswoman hated him even Mav, who was resting his head on his hands. His mom loved the ring his dad gave her wore it long after he died, and Rooster wanted you to love yours just as much. Setting the rings down he groaned rubbing his hands down his face.

“Kid you could give her a paper ring and shed say yes.” Rooster paused at his words an idea popping into his head. “ Thank you!” He yelled, pushing the rings back and pulling Maverick behind him out the door. “Am I missing something?” Mav wondered aloud watching Rooster run to the back of his bronco and pull out a toolbox.

“I don’t need to buy her something I need to give her something.” He mumbled paying half attention to what Maverick was saying. “You’re going to give her your dog tags?” He asked, Watching the young pilot put them out of his shirt and off his neck. Separating the smaller chain from the longer one. “Part of them.” Cutting the chain to the length he measured next to a ring he took from your nightstand. Smacking Maverick's hand away when he went to reach for it. “Don’t touch.” Of course, Maverick ignored him and picked it up anyways when Rooster was done with it.

“You stole her ring?” Rooster huffed cutting him a glance from what he was doing. “I borrowed it.” Mav nodded along. “Stole it.” He whispered, making the pilot huff

“It’s temporarily misappropriated!” Rooster barked going back to the task at hand, connecting the chain back together he slid the small loop onto his finger showing Maverick.

“What do you think?” Bradley felt more nervous now than he did in the jewelry store. Watching for any look that may come over his unofficial uncles face. A proud smile slid on his face looking from the makeshift ring and the other pilot shifting on his feet. “Y/n will love it.” Passing the ring back Rooster immediately started fiteling with it.

“Are you sure? I know it's basic but we can pick out the other ring together so she really likes it you know, and I always wished I had my dads tags, thanks for that by the way.” Maverick cringed,

“so maybe even when I’m away she still has a little piece of me to carry around.” He rambles making Mav grab him by both arms to get him to take a breath. “Kid it's perfect.”

“Are you sure, because she definitely deserves perfect.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Are you okay babe?” You asked seeing your boyfriend shift in his seat for the thousandth time nice he picked you up. Not to mention his hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. His head snapped over to you, quickly going back and forth between you and the road. “What? Yeah, I’m fine just looking forward to tonight.” Patting your knee than going straight back to the wheel. Normally his hands never left you so his behavior was confusing you a bit.

What you didn't notice was rooster had changed his shirt five times before driving to get you, he even had his second choice in the back in case he changed his mind. Maverick had brought Penny over during his spiral for a pep talk thinking shed help the young pilot better than he could. It slightly helped.

“We’re going to follow them right?” Penny whispered watching rooster pull off. “Of course we are I’m not missing this.”

Pulling up to the beach Rooster pulled you back when you went to step out of the car, pressing a kiss to your empty ring finger he asked you to wait while he set up.

Watching him running with arms full of baskets and bags made you giggle when he tripped a bit, sand and running not really mixing well.

Spreading out the blanket and fighting against the ocean breeze he managed to get all the candles lit, surrounding it with the flowers he hid there earlier. He had all your favorite foods there too. So you could celebrate if you said yes, or could drown his sorrows if you said no. Taking a few steps back and looking at his set up he nodded “talk to me dad.” He whispered, taking a breath before going back to get you.

“My lady.” He spoke in a playful British accent helping you out of the car. Making you let out that laugh he fell in love with hearing. “What do you have planned this evening Sir Bradshaw?” You asked playing along as you walked hand and hand down the path. His set up still out of view. “Picnic on the beach and watching the sunset sound good to you?”

“Perfect.” You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his jaw. God, he really hopes you think so. Before you both got any closer he pulled you to a stop. “You mind?” Holding up a bandana he didn't need to explain what he wanted. ‘Must be some picnic huh.”

With the bandana secured he carefully led you farther on the beach stopping you once you stood in the middle of the blanket. Not releasing your hand as he knelt on one knee in front of you. “You can take it off now.” You gasped seeing him on one knee. Looking up at you with the most love you’ve ever seen come from a person.

“Y/n, I said I fell in love with you at first sigh the night we met, but know all this time I spent with you I realized that’s not true.” He paused to collect himself seeing the tears start shimmering in your eyes, “every second I see you I fall more in love its love at every sight, every thought, every moment I spend with you makes me fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I want to love you for the rest of my life, will you give me that chance and marry me?”

pulling the chain ring out of his pocket he held it between you, you quickly nodded your head the second he asked, “Yes, yes yes!” Excitement flooded his entire body at your words and he stood to pull you into him and spun you around. “She said yes!” He shouted to no one in particular. Caressing his face you pressed your lips together a little awkwardly since neither of you could wipe the smiles off your faces.

Setting you back on your feet, he shakily slid the ring on your finger. “We will get you a diamond obviously but I didn’t want to pick it out without you.” You breathlessly laughed shaking your head fondly at your new fiancé. “It’s perfect I love it!”

Your moment of staring into each other's eyes broke as you both heard clapping.

“Oh god.” Rooster groaned hiding his face in your neck as you laughed, watching Maverick's eyes widened realizing they’ve been caught giving a shy wave as Penny beamed. You felt Rooster chuckle against you before he straightened up holding your left hand in his raising it. “We’re getting married!”

Hi!! Hope you guys liked it let me know in the comments and check out my TopGun masterlist for more. And let me know who’s version you want next in the comments Hangman or Young Mav

#topgun maverick imagine #topgun maverick x reader #brat tammer rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley bradshaw imagine #pete maverick mitchell imagine #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #maverick x reader #maverick imagine #topgun imagine #topgun x reader #hangman imagine #hangman x reader

[hockeyboysimagines]

F*ck me like I’m famous

Chapter 4

Warnings: Sex, implied sex, talks of sex, alcohol, language.

Hello friends! Here is chapter 4. Sorry for the delay. As I said in the chapter I just posted for Sway I’ve had a ton going on. Hope this is worth the wait!

Enjoy🤍

“Hey Josie.” Vince called from his living room “Are you ready? We have to leave like…10 minutes ago.”

“Yeah I’m coming!” She called.

“You did that last night already!”

“Vince!” She yelled from the bathroom.

He giggled and stuffed his feet into shoes, grabbing his keys from the table next to the door. He was having the time of his life.

She had made good on the phone sex and dirty texting multiple times over last night, until the early hours, which was part of why they were running late today. He also might have caused a distraction in the shower, but that was a minor detail.

He had some autograph signing thing that would kickstart the celebrations for the week, and he was planning to meet up with friends for drinks later on. He was so excited to show her off to everyone, if they ever got there.

He heard her shuffling and then coming down the steps and turned the corner.

He paused and smiled “Damn.” He said giving her an appreciative once over “You look hot.”

“Really?!” She asked brightly, glancing down at her dress “It’s not too dressy or boring?”

It was pale green, falling mid thigh, with a floral pattern on it, paired with black wedges. Her long hair was loose and wavy, and he almost considered taking her right back upstairs. But then he remembered this week was not only about him, but the community as well.

“Not at all. Oof. You’re in for it later.”

She blushed and waved him off, taking his extended hand and they made their way to the car. The sun was shining down on them, a beautiful perfect day to start a beautiful perfect week.

“Where are we going exactly?” She asked from the passenger seat, turning to put her purse in the back. He smiled a little at how comfortable and natural she looked in his passenger seat before he answered.

“I have an autograph signing.” He said, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of his driveway.

“Ooooooh. An autograph signing? Fancy.” She said side eyeing him “How many body parts do you think you’ll sign?”

He rolled his eyes and nudged his chin at her “I can think of one I’d like to sign later.”

“No I don’t think so. The pen is way too big.”

He burst out laughing and shook his head “Okay you win. So how was your first official day in Canada?”

“It was good. I spent most of it with this hot guy.”

“And how was your first official night in Canada?”

“Average.”

He gasped and reached over grabbing her thigh and squeezing it. She screamed and slapped his arm “I’m kidding! I’m kidding sheesh.”

“Okay so let’s try that again.”

“My first official night in Canada was amazing.”

“Better. Just means I’m gonna have to one up myself tonight.”

She chuckled and watched the Canadian countryside zoom past outside. She was having so much fun and it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet. Being here, although in a country she’d never been to with people she didn’t know, felt so normal, like she’d been here before. She wasn’t nervous, or awkward or anything like that. She felt at peace.

It was so nice.

“So when does the cup actually get here?”

“Friday. That’s when the fun begins.” He waggled his eyebrows “And there’s a ton happening that day. Are you excited?”

“Me? Are you excited? It’s your big day.”

Josie didn’t know Vince when he won the cup. She hadn’t seen the game, watched the moment, or even knew anything about how he and the team had gotten to that point. But what she did know was that if anyone deserved this week, it was him.

“Of course im excited, but i want you to be having fun too.”

“I’m just happy to be here and watch you do your thing.” She said, smiling widely and reaching forward to squeeze his hand.

Josie spent most of the signing hanging out behind him with his mom. She’d been friendly the day before, but she could tell her guard had been up and with good reason. Vince was a highly successful professional athlete, who had a lot at stake in life. She didn’t blame his mom for being wary at first.

But now she had truly warmed up and they were talking and laughing like old friends.

“What are you telling her back there, because whatever it is you can be sure it’s a lie.” He called over his shoulder.

“Most of it sounds pretty on brand.” Josie said smiling at him “So I’m inclined to believe her.”

He made a face and turned back around, but the thought of her being close with his mom brought a small smile to his face that stayed there the rest of the afternoon.

As the line wound down, and the last few pictures had been taken Vince turned to her and waved her forward. When she reached him he gestured to a lady he’d been talking with.

“Josie, this is my mom’s friend, Sheri.”

Josie reached forward to shake her extended hand “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

“And this is your-?” Sheri asked, looked at Vince expectantly as she let go of Josie’s hand.

“This is my girlfriend.” He said simply with a smile, hand on the small of her back as he gave her a gentle push forward so she could shake the woman hand.

Girlfriend.

GIRLFRIEND.

The word made Josie want to jump for joy, scream, ugly cry and kiss his socks right off but then she remembered they were in public so she just smiled, feeling a redness come to her cheeks. They chatted with for a minute when Vince’s mom called her name and Sheri walked away.

Josie turned slowly to look at him “Girlfriend?” She asked quietly.

“Is that okay? I didn’t really know what else to call this.” He gave a small laugh.

“I mean-yeah. It’s okay.”

“I really wanna kiss you, but we’ve already been on the cover of one newspaper.”

She giggled and smiled at him “You can make it up to me later.” She waggled her eyebrows and he gave her waist a small squeeze.

**********

“So you’re here with Vince?”

Josie turned to find a dark haired girl standing next to her and frowned a little, leaning away from her.

The day had gone great. Better than great. She’d had so much fun watching him do his thing and interact with members of his community. She’d also really enjoyed being introduced as his girlfriend.

They’d met up with a few friends of his that she hadn’t met yet for drinks at what Vince called “The best bar in Lindsey” and it was still great.

“Uh, yeah?” She looked across the bar at Vince, but he was absorbed in a conversation and didn’t seem to notice. She looked back at the girl who was staring at her, one hand braced on the bar top.

“You must be his new fling of the week.” She said off handedly, glancing at her and then over her shoulder where he was standing.

Josie felt a twinge of annoyance. She wasn’t a confrontational person, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene in front of his friends in a country she was visiting, but she wanted nothing more than to back hand her. The smug smile on her face had sparked an irrational rage that Josie wasn’t sure she’d even had in her before today.

“What are you talking about?” The question came out more rude than she’d anticipated but it didn’t seem to phase whatever her name was.

“This week it’s you, last week it was someone else, and next week it’ll be- hi Vince.”

Josie looked behind her to find Vince was there, frowning at the girl she was about to beat up.

“I was just talking to your new girlfriend of the week here and I-“

“Yeah well stop talking to her.” He turned Josie abruptly, and steered her across the room and out the front door of the bar.

She waited until they were some feet away until she said very quietly “Who was that?”

“Just a girl I know is all.”

She stopped walking, which caused him to stop and she crossed her arms, head turned to the side “Wanna try that again? But with an actual answer this time.”

He sighed “I hung out with her one time at a party last summer. Nothing happened, she wanted more and I just didn’t see her that way and she’s been dragging my name through the mud since then. She does this every time she sees me out with anyone.”

“I see. She said there was another me last week? Is that true?”

Vince’s mouth fell open and he looked back at the bar in outrage before he turned back to her “She said that? Josie I swear, I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you. I can’t believe-“

“If you have been it’s okay. I wasn’t your girlfriend so I can’t really get mad.”

It was true. She hadn’t been his girlfriend last week so he was able to do whatever he wanted. But it didn’t mean it would hurt any less if he had.

“I swear to you. I am not talking or hooking up with anyone else. And fuck her for saying that to you.” He gripped her hand “You believe me right?”

She stared at him for a few minutes. She did, she didn’t think he’d fly her out here if he was hooking up with girls at home, but her guard with him was up a little for the first time. It had definitely brought down her mood, and made her feel a little bit weird about the whole thing.

“Josie?”

“I-I believe you. But why would she say that?”

“You don’t believe me I can see it all over your face. She’s jealous obviously.”

“Jealous of who? Me?”

He rolled his eyes “Of COURSE she’s jealous of you. Your beautiful and smart, and your here with me and she isn’t.”

She shrugged and looked at his hand, which was still holding hers. He gave it a squeeze.

“I promise you. There’s no one else.”

Josie pursed her lips and looked at him “Okay. I believe you.”

He glanced over her head and then around the street. It was empty and then he smiled.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” She asked as he tugged her along by the hand.

“You’ll see.”

Before she even knew what was going on they were tangled up in the driver seat, attached at the lips.

“Oh my god this is so risky.” Josie breathed out as Vince stuffed his hands underneath her shirt, hands sending goosebumps across her skin.

The car was cold, but they had fogged the windows up in less than two minutes. Their make out in the bar had now spilled into the front seat of the car.

“Shhh it’s fine just kiss me.” He said quietly, pulling her down to his level and pushing his tongue in her mouth. He had a hand on either side of her hips, fingers brushing her bare legs until he had her skirt pushed completely up.

He reached down, fumbling around on the side of the seat looking for the lever to move the seat back, and finally found it, yanking on it a little too hard because it sent both of them flying backwards with a squeal, followed by laughter.

“Jesus Christ.” He mumbled against her neck pulling on it again and lurching them forward. Josie was crying with laughter until he gave a large push and they flew forward, Vince’s elbow hitting the steering wheel, horn blaring.

They both jumped expecting it to stop but it didn’t.

“What the fuck?!” He looked around her, smacking the horn several times, the loud sound cutting through the night. Josie felt her face burn for the amount of embarrassment she was about to feel when someone came over to investigate why the horn in the car was sticking, and found them both in the drivers seat, half dressed.

He finally punched it and it stopped, and he glanced up at her before resting his forehead against her chest.

“This just isn’t meant to be.” He picked up his phone and checked the time “But I can have us home in 10 minutes.”

*********

The rest of the week in Lindsay passed by slow enough to enjoy it, but too fast for it to be over. Every morning she woke up she got a little more sad. She was having so much fun and by Thursday evening she only had 3 days left and it had begun to weigh on her. She never wanted this trip to end, and as it inched closer to Sunday she was reminded that she would be going home alone.

“What’s wrong?” Vince asked as she plugged in her phone and laid next to him.

She glanced up “What? Oh nothing.”

“Liar.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed “Nothings wrong. Just bummed that I have to go back to St.Louis soon is all.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and sighed “Me too. But let’s just enjoy our last three days together, and then we’ll go from there.”

She frowned “What’s that mean?”

He pursed his lips and turned on his side to face her “Well. I was going to suggest maybe we take a trip, a vacation if you wanna call it that, before camp starts in September. If you can get off of work and everything.”

“A trip? Where?”

“To a place where all you have to wear is a bikini.”

“Vince!”

“What?” He said innocently, letting one hand trail up her bare leg “Can’t a guy have dirty thoughts about his girl in a bathing suit.”

A slow smile spread across her face until it was so wide her face might crack “What did you call me?”

“My girl.”

She wanted to kick her feet and squeal “I like that. Being your girl.” She ran her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He leaned up to move his lips across her jaw until he reached her mouth, hand traveling up her thigh to the band of her underwear on her inner leg.

He was slotted between her legs, pelvis grinding up against hers as he kissed her slowly. He floated a hand up her shirt, resting it on her waist.

Before she knew it her shirt was gone and he was unhooking her bra big hands roaming everywhere. Every nerve ending in her body was a live wire, as his lips left hers and moved down her jaw towards her neck. She tugged at his shirt, prompting him to reach behind his head and pull it off in one quick movement.

She marveled at him as he hovered above her. Everything about Vince was thick, broad and muscled. Her hands roamed from his lower back up to his chest, scratching her fingernails across his skin. His mouth crushed hers, hurriedly kicking his boxers down his legs and tossing them aside.

She was shaking underneath him, cheeks red, goosebumps across her skin as she took a page breath in, the bones of her ribcage rippling underneath her skin. He stopped for a minute to really look at her.

“Goddamn your beautiful.” He whispered, eyes never leaving hers. Her blush deepened but she just pulled him back down by the chain to kiss him. Slower this time, her fingers moving down his back, nails scratching his skin, causing him to shiver. He sat back, hooking a finger on either side of her underwear and pulled them down her legs, leaning back over her and pushed a finger inside her causing her to gasp.

“That’s the prettiest noise I’ve ever heard.” He pushed another finger inside, moving them in and out, hooking them ever so slightly as he kissed her. She gripped the sheets, balling her hands into fists.

His lips brushed over her neck, eyes flicking up to meet hers as he pulled his fingers out, moving up her body and bracing himself between her legs.

“Tell me what you want.” She reached down, guiding him towards her. His head tipped down, stray hair falling into his eyes. She pushed it out of the way and bucked her hips up to meet his. She closed her eyes dreamily as he slowly pushed inside her, body arching up to meet his. He was so big, so broad as he moved above her, finding her mouth and kissing her slowly, methodically.

Vince splayed a hand across her ribcage and pulled her right leg up over his hip, lifting her clear off the bed. She let out a moan as he pushed deeper than before, hitting a new spot that had never been hit before.

“Vince I-“

He let out a breath, abdominal muscles tightening as he pushed faster, leaning down to kiss her desperately as he did. Her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest as a crippling, toe curling orgasm made its way through her body, sending shockwaves from her head to her feet, her entire body flooding with heat. She felt like she couldn’t breath as Vince gave his last few pushes with a groan and leaned down, head resting in her neck. His breath tickled her skin and she could feel his heart beating through his skin. He pulled out and laid next to her, chest rising and falling as he tried to slow his breathing, and he turned to smile at her.

“Your amazing and I-“ He stopped and cleared his throat “And your amazing.”

He’d almost said something crazy, but she thankfully hadn’t seemed to notice as she began to rummage around for her shirt and slipped it over her head before collapsing next to him. She rolled on to her side, eyes closing sleepily and hooked one of her legs with his, and promptly fell asleep.

**********

The cup arrived early the next day, and Vince had jumped out of bed like the house was on fire. He was showered, dressed and putting on his shoes by the time she had come out of the bathroom to get dressed.

“How fancy is this anyways?” She asked rummaging through her suitcase “Like should I wear a dress or pants or-?”

“Whatever you wear will be hot, but I like that one.” He was pointing at a yellow dress she had hung over the back of a chair in the corner of his room. She’d bought it and never worn it, tags still hung from the arm of it. She smiled.

“Perfect.”

There was already an entourage outside when they left the house, many friends and family had gathered in his driveway to watch the cup be handed to him. Even though Josie had no idea what was going on she was still excited to watch him pick up the cup. She googled it the night before and apparently within the hockey community it was a huge deal, so because it was big to Vince, it was to her. He gave her hand a squeeze before he released it and made his way over to the keeper of the cup to shake their hands. His mom spotted her and made her way over.

“You look nice.” She said commenting on her dress.

Josie looked down “Thanks. Vince picked it.”

“Well he did a great job. It’s so special you’re here with him for this, it’s his greatest achievement.”

“I didn’t know him then, but if it’s important to him it’s important to me.”

She smiled at her and gave a small laugh “You are important to him. I hope you know that. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Josie smiled and looked back at Vince as he picked up the cup and lifted it over his head and cheers erupted around him.

It was going to be a great day.

#vince dunn #hockey fanfiction #hockey tumblr #hockeyblr #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey smut #hockey romance #hockey fandom #hockey writing #hockey tag #hockey blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #nhl oneshot #nhl smut #nhl players #nhl #vince dunn smut #Vince Dunn imagine #vince dunn fic #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #hockey x reader #nhl fluff #nhl rpf #nhl x oc

[aidaronan]

Alt season one El meeting punk!Steve. She slowly goes to touch one of the spikes on his jacket the same way someone might reach for a feral cat. Like she's not sure if they're teeth or not, if they'll hurt her. Steve's patient. The kids had to tell him some things after he tried to call someone for help and they tore the phone from his hand. So he knows to be still, to let her be curious. "You look different." "Oh," he says. "I'm punk." She crinkles her forehead. "What is 'punk?'" Steve pauses to think. A lot of people have asked him why he dresses the way he does, why he shaves parts of his hair and spikes the rest with Elmer's glue, why he has safety pins in his leather jacket and metal through his face. He's even been asked if he's "goth" about 50 times. But a genuine question about what it means for him to have adopted this persona? This lifestyle? Specifically what it means for him, Steve Harrington, would-be heir of Harrington Investments, to be punk? No one has asked that. He thinks of the stories the kids have told, of the power company that isn't and a scared little girl. "Punk is when someone realizes the people who run our lives don't know what we want or need or even care. Punk is telling those people to go to hell." El goes quiet, very thoughtful. She nods. "Understand." The next day Steve is there, bleeding on the floor of the Wheeler's basement while an older man holds his hand out toward El. "It's time to come home and put an end to this." The man speaks softly, evenly. The kind of man who's used to not hearing 'no.' The kind of man Steve hates. Steve wants to tell this man to leave her alone, that it's sick to keep children locked up like lab rats. But there's a shoe digging into the bones between Steve's shoulders and he can barely breathe. "I always cared for you, didn't I, Eleven?" A pair of young eyes dart toward Steve, gasping on the ground. They flit toward the kids all gripped tightly in unkind arms. They find the old man again and narrow into slits. And here's the thing... When El glares daggers, she backs them up. "Eleven..." "Go to hell." After it's done, it's Steve who wipes the blood from her nose and wraps her in a studded leather jacket, carrying her somewhere safe. Weeks later, it's also Steve who stands with her at a store where she turns a waffle patch over and over in her hands. "Is this punk?" she asks, her eyes big and hopeful. He adjusts her little leather jacket, the one he spent hours studding just for her. "You're goddamn right it is."

#punk!steve #steve harrington #el hopper #steve harrington & el hopper #drabble #kind of? #mine

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 16

Part One Part Fifteen Link to Ao3. Part 17

So late but I needed to post this as soon as I was happy with it haha! Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for listening to my endless rambles

Step Sixteen: Fix What You Brea

Decorating a christmas tree was an interesting experience. 

It wasn’t like Eddie had never seen a tree before, it just wasn’t something he had ever personally done. Before living with Wayne, his parents had never stayed in one place long enough to have a tree, and after he moved in with Wayne, they both agreed that the money would be better spent on having a present for Eddie instead of a tree to just stare at. Eddie had always thought it would be kind of stupid anyway. What was the point? 

But decorating Steve’s tree was actually pretty enjoyable. 

Sure, Frank and Jeff were fighting over eating the popcorn string instead of hanging it up, and yeah, Jonathan kept making little side comments to Nancy about it that were almost a shade too sarcastic for comfort, but the air was filled with laughter, and Steve was directing him on where to put the important ornaments, so it wasn’t all bad. 

“What about this one?” Eddie asked, holding up a delicate glass design. It was shaped like a pair of ballet slippers, hanging on a pink ribbon that gleamed in the lights on the tree. 

This was the best part in Eddie’s opinion. Every single one of the ‘special’ ornaments had some story attached. A family anecdote or a tradition long held. Steve wasn’t on Eddie’s level of storytelling, but there was something incredibly cozy about holding out an ornament and listening to Steve tell the tale as they hung it up together. 

“That ones my mom’s,” Steve said, his voice inordinately warm as he took the ornament and leaned into Eddie’s space to place it on the right side of the tree almost all the way at the top. “She was a ballet dancer back in the day. The ribbon is from her first set of pointe shoes.”

“That’s cool,” Eddie said, looking closer. Sure enough the satin was too thick to be a traditional ribbon, and there were rips in it that had been sewn back together with pale pink thread. 

“Yeah. You have to replace pointe shoes every twenty hours of dancing or so, but my mom’s family never had much money, so she used hers until they were too broken to dance,” Steve explained, tracing his index finger down the side of the ribbon, his eyes far away somewhere Eddie couldn’t quite reach. 

Huh. 

It was strange to think of anyone in Steve’s family as anything but rich. The Harringtons were well known snobs, and although Eddie didn’t personally know Steve’s mom, he had definitely heard about her. Head of the PTA, head of the ladies auxiliary, head of the church prayer group. She was a socialite through and through. 

Initially Eddie had heard the word ‘ballet’ and imagined an uptight little prima in a sterile looking studio with starched white tutus and perfect form. Steve’s story had shifted that, and now Eddie’s mind was conjuring up images of a tiny girl practicing and practicing her steps with shoes that were tearing at the seams. A small child trying and trying to be as good as everyone else when the tools she was working with were nowhere near what everyone else got to have. 

The same way Eddie himself had practiced on his first guitar before he had started dealing and was able to afford his Warlock. 

“Why’d she stop dancing?” Eddie asked softly, suddenly desperate to know the answer. He needed to make the two images connect, needed to find the through line that could turn a poor kid who just wanted to dance into a formidable small town queen. 

“She married my dad,” Steve replied, giving the exact answer Eddie hadn’t wanted to hear. “They moved here, had my brother, and Mom didn’t need to work anymore. The back room used to be her studio, but my parents decided to make it a second office for my dad.”

Eddie bit his tongue, looking at the tree but avoiding the shimmering ballet slippers sitting on the branch above his head. 

Steve’s mom had been like him, then she married a rich guy, and gave up all the things that mattered for money. She had been just like him, once upon a time. 

Would that happen to Eddie? 

Was he turning into someone different now because of his crush on Steve? 

It wasn’t a completely lunatic idea. He was here decorating a tree, which is something he normally saw as completely arbitrary and useless. He was letting a jock into hellfire, and not just any jock but the King. 

Would being near Steve chip away at all of Eddie’s long held beliefs? Would he move backwards and backwards because of this idiotic infatuation, until his guitar was just an ornament on a tree? 

“Eddie?”

And then with just one look, Steve erased the entire idea. One flash of those big brown eyes and that little side quirk of his head, and Eddie is a goner. There was no way Steve would ever turn his partner into some cookie cutter perfect picket fence person, no planet on Earth where Steve wouldn’t love someone enough to love their weird bits too. This was Steve. 

And besides, it wasn’t even like Eddie was the kind of person that had a shot with Steve in the first place. For a lot of reasons. 

“Sorry, got lost in thought, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, crooking his mouth into a half smile and ignoring the panging ache of guilt crushing his chest. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against Eddie’s. 

“Well, don’t go somewhere I can’t follow,” He murmured, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body sending Eddie into a tailspin. 

Just like before when their hands were joined and Steve’s warm breath was blowing across his frozen fingers, Eddie’s mind stuttered to a halt. The endless loops and running thoughts were stuck in place, held motionless by the enigma that was Steve Harrington. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at the same time, and Eddie needed to get away from it before he did something he couldn’t take back. 

“C’mon, we’ve still got work to do, lazy bones!” Eddie chirped, slipping away from Steve and practically jumping over to the box of carefully packaged decorations. He was so focused on escaping, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings until it was a moment too late. 

At the same time Eddie picked up the next ornament, Jeff and Frank’s battle over the popcorn string reached its apex. Jeff let go of his side of the string, and Frank flew backwards. He barreled into Jonathan, who crashed into Nancy, who stumbled and bumped into Eddie just enough to make him lose his grip. 

The air was filled with the terribly delicate sound of breaking porcelain, and everything seemed to freeze in place. All six of them stared at the ground, where a tiny angel rested in three pieces where it had once been whole. 

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“We were just fucking around, but we shouldn’t have-”

“Steve, I’m so-”

Floods of apologies from the rest, but Eddie stayed silent. He was watching Steve like a hawk as he slowly bent down on one knee and began to collect the pieces of the broken ornament. 

Steve hadn’t said a word yet, but he was still saying plenty. His shoulders were almost at his ears, and his fingers were shaking as they tried to grab onto the porcelain remains. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were starting to take on an honestly terrifying shine, and his blinking was getting more and more rapid by the second. 

Eddie should have left it alone, should have given Steve space to collect himself, but he had never been good at leaving things be. So, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Eddie knelt down by Steve and reached out to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“It’s fine,” Steve instantly replied, a completely hollow smile materializing on his face as he continued to blink far too much. He leaned away from Eddie’s touch, a tiny jerky movement that put a twenty pound weight on Eddie’s chest. Steve scrambled upwards, cradling the broken ornament close to his heart as he continued to fake a smile. “It was an accident, Babydoll. No worries.”  

It was an accident, but that didn’t make it ‘fine’. Steve was obviously so far from fine, and even that little silly name wasn’t enough to assure Eddie of the lie. It actually made it worse, like Steve was trying to appease him, to make Eddie let it go, when he really didn’t think he should. 

“I’m gonna go see if we have superglue. It doesn’t look too bad,” Steve said to the entire group, still faking it. Unlike Eddie though, the rest were buying it, tension leaking out of them with relieved smiles and quiet sighs. “You guys finish up though, people will be here any minute.” 

And then he was gone, ducking into the kitchen and disappearing from view, leaving Eddie unmoored and unsure of where to go. Every fiber in his being wanted to chase after Steve, catch him alone and hope that he wouldn’t keep trying to hide, but he was stuck in place. Steve had leaned away, escaped as soon as he could, that had to be a sign that he didn’t want Eddie near him. 

Wasn’t it? 

“Nice job, butterfingers,” Frank joked, gently jabbing an elbow into Eddie’s ribs in an effort to lighten up the air around him. 

Eddie threw him a distracted smile, still staring at the doorway Steve had disappeared through and trying to ignore the part of him that was desparate to follow. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Nancy murmured to Jonathan, nearly inaudible over the sound of Jeff and Frank looking for a broom to get any remaining slivers of porcelain on the ground. Jonathan nodded with a quiet hum, kissing Nancy on the cheek before letting her go without even a word. 

Because it was oh so natural for an ex-girlfriend to leave her current boyfriend in the dust to go check on her ex-boyfriend. 

Eddie watched her perfect little curls bounce in their perfect little ringlets as she practically skipped out after Steve. Now Nancy was going to go in there and comfort Steve, act all sweet and soft and drag Steve into thinking that she cared when she was the one that had cheated. Hell, maybe they would even kiss, and she would have her hooks in Steve again. 

Why wasn’t Jonathan upset about this?!

… Why was Eddie so upset about this?

Eddie let his eyes slip shut, his breath escaping in one huge gust as he finally began to wilt. It wasn’t really any of his business. He and Steve were friends. That was all. If Steve wanted to kiss Nancy, then he would kiss her, and that wasn’t Eddie’s choice. All Eddie had was a fanciful crush, a ridiculous dream, a hope for something that he should never have let himself hope for. 

But still. 

“I’m gonna find a bathroom,” Eddie muttered to no one, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

He could hear the indistinguishable sound of voices coming from the room ahead, the open door tempting him closer and closer for a taste of what Steve and Nancy were discussing. 

Was Eddie really doing this? 

Yes. Yes he was. 

Resolved, Eddie leaned against the hidden side of the doorway, letting his head hit the wall as he shut his eyes and focused on eavesdropping. 

“-really don’t want to talk about it, Nancy,” Steve said, sounding utterly exhausted as cupboards opened and slammed shut. 

“Okay,” Nancy relented, clearly not happy to let the subject go, “let’s talk about the other thing?”

Other thing?

“Other thing?” Steve asked. Eddie bit back a snicker, his heart fluttering at the way Steve had mirrored him without even knowing it. 

“You invited Eddie?”

The humor instantly fled, rushing out of the hallway along with all of the oxygen, leaving Eddie dizzy and struggling to breathe. His indulgent smile soured into a scowl, and his hands curled into tight fists. 

It was the tone. That tone that Eddie had heard his whole life. The condescending, lower-than-me, dirt on the shoes of society tone. It was the kind of thing that girls like Nancy could use because they lived in perfect two story houses on cul-de-sacs, and Eddie was trailer trash from the bad side of town. 

Well fuck her. Fuck Nancy Wheeler and her stupid perfect life, and fuck her for hating him just for existing. Eddie could hate her right back. He had hating the conventional down to a science, an art form almost. He was brilliant at striking first, and he had half a mind to walk in there and tear her down a few notches, just for the fun of it.  

“What is your problem with him?” 

Eddie stopped in his tracks, blinking his eyes open and staring in shock at the wall in front of him, watching Steve’s shadow turn to face Nancy’s. 

“I don’t have a problem,” Nancy scoffed. 

“Obviously you do, Nance,” Steve shot back, crossing his arms  “Eddie’s a good guy. They��re my friends.” 

A good guy. 

It wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation or anything, but the words and the protectiveness in Steve’s voice was doing terrible wonderful things to Eddie’s stomach. His fingers were still burning from being held by Steve before, and now his brain was on fire too, caught in the blaze that was Steve damn Harrington. 

“I… I just think he might be trouble,” Nancy admitted softly, quickly continuing when she heard Steve’s inhale of interjecting, “and not in the way you’re thinking! I promise.”

A long silence, one that gave Eddie too much time to think, one that left too much room for endless questions with zero answers. 

What kind of trouble did Nancy think Eddie was dragging Steve into? What would Eddie do that she was so scared of? Did she really care that much about Steve’s reputation? Steve didn’t even care about it anymore! 

Was she scared for her brother? Why was all of this so damn cryptic?

“In what way?” Steve finally asked, and Eddie leaned in, needing the answer.

“Just-” Nancy cut herself off with a frustrated little sound, and her shadow eclipsed Steve as she stood on her tiptoes to put her arms around his shoulders. 

“If you ever need to talk. About anything. Me and Jonathan are here. We would never judge you for anything. You know that right?” 

Eddie barely heard it, the words muffled between the two bodies, but he heard Steve’s soft chuckle, and saw the way his shadow arms wrapped around Nancy.

Even just an image of them on the wall looked so… right. 

It made a small part of Eddie die inside. 

He closed his eyes once, hating the burn that was already there waiting. He shouldn’t have come over and listened. He shouldn’t have done any of this. But as Eddie took a step back to walk to the living room with his tail tucked between his legs, Nancy spoke again. 

“And you need to tell them about El before she gets here.”

El?

Who was El? 

“Shit, you’re right,” Steve sighed, pulling away from Nancy, “I totally forgot.”

“Do you remember the story?”

“Nancy I’m the one that came up with it,” Steve said, annoyance tinging his voice, “I remember the story.”

Story? 

Eddie was definitely eavesdropping about something bigger than relationship woes now, and the mystery of it all dug right into his soft spot, pulling him away from his aching heart and tugging him forward with a desperate need to know more. 

This was the thing that Wayne always tried to warn him about. Eddie’s need to know everything was always getting him in trouble, and he had heard plenty of times about what curiosity did to cats. 

That was all true… but the thing that Wayne always seemed to forget was that satisfaction brought that cat back. 

“It’s important that we get this right, Steve. You know what-”

But whatever Steve knew, Eddie didn’t seem destined to hear it. As he leaned closer, intent on catching every word, he overbalanced, tripping over his own feet and slamming his entire body against the other side of the doorway, coming into full view of both of them. Steve and Nancy both jolted, pulling away from each other and staring at Eddie with slack jaws and wide eyes. 

Fuck. 

“This is what I get for never tying my shoes,” Eddie joked awkwardly, trying to be casual as he straightened up and let out the world’s worst fake laugh. His brain was racing, running as fast as it could to come up with any rational reason for him being there besides eavesdropping. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t even seem to catch what was going on, but Nancy was practically glaring, her lips pursed in quiet fury. 

“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Eddie reassured him, ignoring Nancy’s look in favor of focusing all of his attention on Steve. If he played it right, then Nancy calling him out would just look like she was against him, which Steve had already tried to stop. 

He wasn’t being manipulative. This was just strategy, the same kind of strategic thinking that any dungeon master worth their salt would employ. It was improv, a game, an act. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong. 

So why was guilt creeping cold fingers down Eddie’s spine? 

“What do you want?” Nancy asked, clearly trying to go for nonchalant but coming off completely cold with her crossed arms and flat inflection. It wasn’t working in her favor if Steve’s quick sharp look was anything to go by, and Eddie did his best not to preen under Steve’s protection. 

“Drinks? The boys were wondering if you had anything stronger than eggnog,” Eddie wondered, coming up with his excuse on the fly. It would work. Frank was never one to turn down a stiff drink, especially if it came loaded with whatever ridiculously expensive alcohol the Harringtons were keeping stashed away here. 

Nancy tossed her hair over his shoulder, raising a single brow as her expression stayed firmly unimpressed. It made Eddie want to squirm in place, but he held firm, meeting her head on. 

“You know there’s gonna be kids at this party, right?” Nancy said, her voice a little less frosty, but a hell of a lot more condescending. “And the chief of police.”

Eddie bristled, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where Hopper could stick it, but Steve intervened before he could. 

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little,” Steve offered in a mediating tone, already moving towards one of the high cabinets and starting to open it. “But just one before they get here. Last thing I need is the brats trying to convince me they’re old enough for whiskey.” 

“Jack and Coke? Or are you spoiling me with the good stuff?” Eddie asked, possibly laying it on an inch too thick, but unable to help it when Steve was giving him that fondly annoyed side eye. 

“We do not drink the good stuff as a mixed beverage,” Steve lectured, grabbing a fat bottle from behind a box on the shelf and bringing it down, “but I think breaking out the crown wouldn’t be amiss.”

“A crown for a king!” Eddie crowed, taking the bottle of Crown Royal from Steve and wiggling his eyebrows. Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at Eddie’s antics and turning towards the fridge. 

“Here, Nance,” Steve said absentmindedly, holding out a bottle of coke for her, “take that inside and you guys can make your own before everyone else gets here. I’ll be in once I find the glue.” 

“Why don’t I help you?” Eddie blurted out, his mouth moving before his mind even caught up with what he was saying. 

“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed, still distracted as he began to root around in cupboards. 

“You’ll be needing this,” Eddie said sweetly, offering up the bottle to Nancy as she walked past him. 

Nancy’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and she let out a short sigh, taking the bottle of alcohol with a vicious little swipe and striding out of the room. Eddie watched her go, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her retreating form. 

He had won. That was what mattered. 

Did Eddie even know what he had won? No, but he still felt like he did. 

Once it was just the two of them, Eddie’s hackles began to slowly lower. There was no need to be on guard when it was just him and Steve. He idly twirled around the kitchen table, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking around the room with distracted curiosity. He had been in the kitchen before, but never really cared enough to explore the details. 

Now every fridge magnet was a new discovery, and the way that the spices were lined up on the rack was information that seemed important. But the most interesting thing in the kitchen was the angel on the counter right by Eddie’s fingers. 

It was a pretty thing, delicate, but somehow still beautiful, even in parts. The sculpted wings were curled around the figure of a little boy, kneeling with his hands cupped over a star. At the bottom of the ornament was the name ‘Jaime’ in ornate script. 

Jaime. 

“Who’s Jaime?” Eddie wondered aloud. He had mostly been talking to himself, but his words caused Steve to stop short, flying around from the drawer he had been searching through and whirl around to face Eddie.

“Where did you…” Steve trailed off, noticing the angel. He wilted like a dying flower, biting at the inside of his cheek as he turned his back to Eddie, returning to the drawer of odds and ends. 

“Jaime’s my brother,” Steve said shortly. 

Eddie’s shoulders were starting to tighten, but he pushed through the feeling. It wasn’t a rejection, or an outright refusal to speak. Steve was just being cagey, secretive the way he sometimes was. 

Eddie could crack that. 

“Ah, yes, the elusive mystery brother,” He joked, putting on a fake accent and bopping over to Steve’s side, bumping against him in an effort to get Steve smiling again. “Will the elder Harrington sibling be making an appearance at tonight’s festivities?” 

Maybe if he was, Eddie would get some answers. Reasons for the panic attack at the Hideout, or some details on the mysterious ‘El’. The possibility of unraveling another part of Steve was enticing, coaxing Eddie further down the rabbit hole. 

“Um…”

Just like that the curiosity was gone. Instantly killed by the way Steve’s adams apple was starting to bob, and the sharp shaking inhale that went along with it. Eddie’s heart fell to his feet, and his fingers felt cold for the first time since Steve had touched him. 

“I was just kidding around. You don’t have to-” Eddie began.

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, still worrying his lip as his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Eddie. He was gearing up, trying to find what he wanted to say or maybe trying to force it out. Either way, Eddie was going to be frozen in place until Steve was ready to speak. 

“Jaime um… Jaime died,” Steve finally managed, the word practically shooting out of his mouth the second he was done choking on it. 

It was like being dunked in a freezing cold shower and tossed out in the snow. Not only had Eddie forced Steve into talking about his dead brother, he had broken the ornament obviously meant to commemorate him. 

If he had a gun, he would be pushing it up against his temple. Nope. Even that wouldn’t be enough. 

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, wishing he could just shut his damn mouth for once, but he was too keyed up to stay quiet. The apology was worthless, but it was already spilling out of his mouth, vomiting itself up, “Steve, I-”

“Really, it’s fine,” Steve insisted, busying himself with looking for the glue. “How could you know? Besides, he died before I was born, so…”

“So?” Eddie prompted, not really sure where Steve was going with that. 

Steve said ‘so’ like that meant it didn’t matter, but from just one glance Eddie knew how much this did. Steve, who was one of the most open people Eddie knew, was hunched over, practically trying to disappear from Eddie’s gaze, hiding away whatever emotions were trying to push themselves up to the surface, demanding to be felt. 

“So- I don’t know,” Steve said, cutting himself off with a sigh. He held up the tiny bottle of superglue, walking over to the other side of the counter, his back to Eddie again. “But it’s my mom’s favorite ornament, and she would get really upset if she came home and it was broken,”

Steve gave a tiny laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, the tip of his finger running over the edge of the wing like it had run over the satin of the ballet slipper ribbon. 

“Not that I even know when she’s coming home again,” He whispered, the bitterness in the words so heavy that it was sitting on Eddie’s tongue. 

It was just wrong. Eddie had never heard Steve sound so beaten down, even in the parking lot the other night. This was somehow worse than just watching Steve shake through an unseen panic that he couldn’t control. 

But, unlike that night, Eddie could do something about this. So, rather than satisfy his own curiosity, Eddie put his needs to the side. 

“Can I?” Eddie asked, holding out his hand for the glue and the angel. “I work on miniatures all the time. I’m super steady.” 

Steve looked down at the hand outstretched toward him, then up at Eddie. A long slow look that went deep in Eddie, making him want to squirm with how far it was going. 

Then, finally, Steve relented. He handed over the pieces and hopped up onto the counter, watching Eddie like a hawk. 

Eddie immediately went to work, bending his head close to the angel and narrowing his eyes as he carefully glued first the broken wing on, and then the small corner of the name plaque. He held both in a firm but soft grip, balancing the ornament effortlessly between his hands as he waited for the glue to bond the pieces back together. And, as he did all of that, he worked up the courage to say what he was thinking. 

“You know it’s okay, right?” Eddie whispered, unable to make his voice any louder. 

“What is?” Steve whispered back, just as quiet. 

“If you aren’t okay,” Eddie replied, braving a quick glance up at Steve’s face. 

It was the wrong thing to do. The blank look of utter shock on Steve’s face was painful, hurting Eddie inside in a place he didn’t even know existed. 

All at once Eddie was sure that he was the first person to ever tell Steve such a thing, and that was just… too much. It was too much pressure, too much potential to fuck it up and hurt Steve even more, too much of a chance that Eddie would say the wrong thing. 

But it was also too much to not be sure Steve knew that it was the absolute truth. 

“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Eddie said, gently placing the repaired angel in Steve’s palm. 

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

#Steve joins hellfire au #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #st #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things au #post stancy breakup #post s2 #Steve and eddie #st au #stranger things 2 au #steve harrington #Writing(with a capital W) #Nancy wheeler #Jonathan Byers #jancy #Jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #Steve has ptsd #tw: suicide mention

[ripleyswrld]

I saw your post where you’re looking for requests, and I have an idea… What about an angst fic where Rhea is always busy/forgets the reader’s birthday. They’ve been together for a few years and maybe this time the reader decides enough is enough and is contemplating leaving her/temporarily breaks up with her? I’m a sucker for a badass woman having to grovel/redeem herself to her girlfriend, no clue why. But a happy ending, pretty please? Sorry if this is too specific — please, feel free to change any details you want! It’s just an idea I’ve had running around in my head that I’ll probably never get around to writing myself. -🦢

An ‘Unforgettable’ Birthday

Rhea Ripley x Reader (angst)

CW: angst, Rhea being an asshole (redeems herself ofc)

You and Rhea had been together for almost 3 years now and since the start she’s shown you nothing but love and affection, always put you first and cared for you like nobody else did. But as of recent her job and other things in her life seemed to being steering her attention away from you. You were fine and understanding with it at first, but as time went on she became snarky and irritable towards you. Nothing was the same as it used to be and it was a hard pill for you to swallow.

It was the night before your birthday, you and Rhea were laying in bed. She was on her phone, almost completely ignoring your existence. You knew how things were between you two right now but you thought she’d at least bring knowledge to the fact it was your birthday the next morning.

“Rhea, Are you even listening to me?” You spoke up as she smirked at something on her phone.

“What is it y/n?” She responded with a rude tone in her voice. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now? Give me a break.”

Rhea rolled over with her back facing you, continuing what ever was so important on her phone.

“You know what, fine.” You said, turning off the light beside your bed. “Forget it.”

It was the next morning, your eyes opened and you turned to see Rhea wasn’t in bed anymore. A bit of hope surged through your body, hoping that she was doing something to surprise you. When you walked to the kitchen and saw that she was getting ready to go somewhere, you spoke up.

“Where are you going?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I’m going to Damian’s, I won’t be home tonight.” She responded, like last night was on her phone, ignoring you. “So just feed the pets and make yourself useful.”

An anger you have never felt before overtook any other emotion you could have felt in this moment, the 3 years you spent surprising her each birthday she had. Taking hours out of your day to make the day special for her. She used to do the same for you, but something had changed. The rage you felt boiled in your stomach and traveled up your body until it came spilling out of your mouth.

“You’re kidding right?” You laughed in a sarcastic manner. “Like you’re actually fucking kidding?” She looked at you, acting like this was completely out of character. Something wasn’t right.

“Y/n why are you acting like this?” Her voice quiet.

“Why am I acting like this? No why are YOU acting like this?” You took a step closer to her. “You used to make me feel loved and wanted and now you just discard me like shit under your shoe and I’m just supposed to take it?”

“Y/n please just wait a minu-”

“Today was supposed to be my special day, everything I’ve done for you over the years and this is what I get? Discarded, uncared for and my birthday completely forgotten.”

The anger on your face was completely undeniable, something hit Rhea like a ton of bricks as you told her how you felt. You could tell.

“Fuck this and fuck you too Rhea.” You grabbed your coat and car keys, getting ready to walk out that door and never turn back to this. “I’m over you and the shit you’ve been putting me through.”

“No wait please!” She grabbed your wrist with a tight grip and refused to let go. “I’m sorry I genuinely really am sorry, I don’t know why I’ve been doing this.” She told you, swarms of regret flooding her mind.

“You have no reason to treat me this way Rhea, now let me go.” You said trying to fight the grip she had on your wrist.

“please, I know I don’t deserve a second chance with the way I’ve been treating you but I promise you I’ll do absolutely everything I can to make this right.” The look she had told you she was dead serious on trying to make this right. She didn’t cry, she didn’t try to play a victim. She knew she was in the wrong.

You thought for a minute, you loved Rhea. You loved the way she made you feel, every moment you had spent together throughout the last 3 years couldn’t be let go because of this. You didn’t want to let it go.

“Rhea-”

“I know I fucked up, I really fucked up. But I promise you from the bottom of my heart to make this right and fix what I’ve ruined.” She let go of your wrist, letting you make the choice to leave or to stay.

You put down your coat and your keys, staring at the woman you loved unconditionally for the past 3 years of your life. She wrapped her arms around your waist, her face buried in your neck. You closed your eyes as you reluctantly hugged back, but relaxed as the feeling you missed too much came back to you.

“I’m sorry y/n, truly.” She kissed the top of your head as she held you close. “I think I owe you a day out.”

You giggled at her. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Wherever you want love, wherever you want.”

Tysm for the request and I’m so sorry it took me ages to answer it. I’ll be more active now as my job as given me a couple days off!

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine