#like im not sorry you are all such terrible people and i can only hope that you one day see the error of your ways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fushisagi · 7 months

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miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜

word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607) genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader

the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!! author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭

o. Desire

This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.

People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.

Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.

“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”

“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.

“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.

Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”

All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.

Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.

His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”

i. Strength

After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.

Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.

He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.

Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.

Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.

(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).

He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.

“Tsumu?”

He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”

You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”

Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”

You stare blankly.

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”

“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”

“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”

“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”

“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”

Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.

“It’s my mover outfit!”

“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”

He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”

You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.

“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”

You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.

You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.

“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”

“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“…Alright.”

“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”

“Actually—”

“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”

“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”

“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”

Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”

You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”

His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”

“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”

Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”

You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.

He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.

“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.

You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”

Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.

“Are you dense?”

“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”

“I was trying something out!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”

The door swings open.

“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”

You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”

Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”

“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”

Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”

Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”

Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.

Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.

With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.

His complaining and wailing can wait until later.

After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.

But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”

Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.

It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.

You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.

He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”

You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”

“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.

Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”

Luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.

Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”

The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.

You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.

“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”

“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”

“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”

“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.

(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).

“Other than me—?”

“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.

You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.

To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.

Something in his chest twists.

“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”

Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.

(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)

Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.

“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”

Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”

“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”

“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”

“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”

“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”

“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”

“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”

He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”

“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”

“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”

Your silence is enough of a response.

Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.

“Give me one reason—”

“The blanket—”

“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”

“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”

“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”

Another gasp. You roll your eyes.

“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”

“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”

He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”

You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”

“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”

You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”

“What d’you mean huh?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”

“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”

He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”

He blinks. “Why?”

Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”

Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”

Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”

You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”

“None at all.”

You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.

But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.

“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”

“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.

You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”

“I know,” he interjects.

Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.

And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.

I’ll be there for you.

“Do you need help?”

Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”

“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”

“Osamu said you’d say that.”

Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”

Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”

“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.

“Doing what?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”

“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”

Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.

He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?

[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?

Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.

The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.

Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.

Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.

A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.

“Tsumu?”

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”

You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.

He smiles, amused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“It’s not.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”

“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”

You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.

“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”

ii. Power

He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.

With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.

On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.

He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.

Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.

Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.

It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.

“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.

(But…)

But.

The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.

“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”

Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”

“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”

“I’m the only setter you know.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite.”

Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”

If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.

But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”

The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.

“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”

On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”

Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”

Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.

“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”

“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”

Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.

“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”

Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”

“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”

Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”

Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”

Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”

“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”

You didn’t.

Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”

Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.

Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.

“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”

“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”

You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”

“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”

All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.

Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”

“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”

“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”

“Sorry—”

“They’re going on a date with someone else.”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”

“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”

Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”

“…That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s an hour more than usual.”

The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”

“Ay, ay, captain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”

He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”

Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.

He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.

(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).

(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.

He thinks nothing of it).

Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.

She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that’s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.

And he says yes.

At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.

At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.

You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”

You hesitantly let him in.

At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.

Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.

He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.

Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.

(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).

It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.

For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.

Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.

At 11:50, he makes his move.

He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.

You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.

“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.

Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.

“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”

You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”

“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”

“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.

“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”

You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”

“This is about the outfit?”

“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”

He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”

You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”

“Then what else?”

You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”

“Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”

“He told me not to worry.”

“Worry about what?”

That snaps you out of it.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”

Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”

“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Dancing,” he says.

“Dancing?”

“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”

“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“You were born with two left feet.”

“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth!”

“I’m a good dancer!”

“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”

“That says nothing about my ability to—”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.

You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“We don’t even have music—”

“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.

“Any song requests?”

“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.

“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”

“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.

You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.

When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”

Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”

Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”

iii. Love

“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”

“Then stay still!”

“Just promise not to poke me.”

“I’ve already promised five times.”

“Then promise again!”

“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”

You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”

“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you—”

“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”

“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”

He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”

“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”

“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”

“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”

“You’d get us kick out.”

“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”

“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”

“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”

“You don’t even remember what happened.”

“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”

Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.

This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.

Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”

“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”

“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”

You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”

“Huh?”

“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”

“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”

“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“What am I to you, Atsumu?”

He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.

“You’re my friend.”

“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”

“Different how?”

Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

“I—”

Someone knocks loudly on the door.

“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”

You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.

There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.

(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?

Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)

“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.

Everything in his body tightens.

You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.

When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.

“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”

The sun had set a long time ago.

In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you’ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.

Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”

You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.

But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.

Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.

Atsumu itches to fix it.

“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”

“My date?”

“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”

“What?”

“At the party.”

You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”

Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”

Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”

“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”

“Not good, probably.”

“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”

“Did he puke on Akaashi?”

“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”

“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”

Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.

“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.

Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.

He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.

The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.

All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.

But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.

Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”

“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

You give him a tight smile in response.

Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.

Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.

But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.

It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.

The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“What?”

He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”

You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”

(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.

He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).

“I don’t,” he lies.

“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”

He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.

Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.

This was never part of the routine.

“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Y/N—”

“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”

His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.

“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.

You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.

Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.

Or, more specifically, the absence of you.

You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.

He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.

For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.

But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.

His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.

Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.

Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.

“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”

Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.

Nothing.

Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”

Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”

Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”

“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”

“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”

“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.

Suna gives him a look. “Well…”

“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”

Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”

The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”

“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”

Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”

“I— wait, what?”

“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”

Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.

Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”

Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.

But they all understand.

“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”

“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.

Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”

He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”

Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”

Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”

Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.

A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”

Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.

“This is a psychic.”

Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”

Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”

He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.

There’s no point being here without you.

Atsumu moves to get out of line.

“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“Boku—”

“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”

Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.

When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.

He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.

Atsumu fidgets in his seat.

“You’re here for a reading?”

A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”

His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.

You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.

His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.

She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.

What is it that you desire most, boy?

Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”

Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.

Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.

He does not need any more physical strength.

He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.

The psychic pushes. “Power?”

Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.

It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.

But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.

They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.

They will never know him as much as you do.

The psychic leans forward. “Love?”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.

You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.

So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.

The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”

“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”

“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”

“Okay, well—”

“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”

Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”

Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”

Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”

“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”

Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.

The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.

His knocks are insistent.

“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.

“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”

You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”

Atsumu rasps, “And?”

You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”

“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Then why are you?”

Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.

“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”

“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”

“It’s not.”

“What exactly is more important than that?”

“Your forgiveness, actually.”

You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”

You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”

He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.”

He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”

Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.

He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.

I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”

Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.

#atsumu #miya atsumu #hq #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu angst #miya atsumu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #fic: miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

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pacifymebby · 7 months

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I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛

( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)

AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!

Tommy

🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?

🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.

🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.

🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.

🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.

🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.

🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"

🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.

🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.

🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.

🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.

🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.

🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.

🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.

🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.

🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.

🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."

🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.

🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."

🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.

🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.

🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."

Alfie

🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.

🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.

🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."

🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.

🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.

🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.

🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.

🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...

🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.

🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.

🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.

🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.

🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.

🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."

🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.

🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.

🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.

🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."

🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.

🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.

🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."

🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.

🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.

Arthur

🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...

🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...

🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.

🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...

🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.

🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.

🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."

🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...

🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.

🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.

🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."

🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...

🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.

🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.

🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."

🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'

🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."

🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."

🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.

🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.

🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.

John

🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.

🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.

🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...

🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.

🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.

🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...

🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.

🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.

🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.

🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.

🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.

🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.

🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."

🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.

🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.

🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.

🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."

🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.

🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...

🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.

🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...

🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."

🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...

🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.

🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.

🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.

🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.

🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.

🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.

🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.

🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.

🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.

🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.

🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.

🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.

🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.

Isaiah

🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...

🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."

🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.

🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.

🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."

🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.

🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.

🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"

🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.

🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.

🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.

🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...

🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"

🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...

🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.

🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.

🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.

Michael

☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.

☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.

☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.

☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.

☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.

☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.

☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...

☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)

☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.

☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."

☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.

☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."

☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.

☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.

☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"

☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.

☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.

AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/

Taglist:

@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo

#tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #isaiah jesus x reader #alfie solomons x reader

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mrslankyman · 4 months

Text

Change

Mike Schmidt x (Fem) Reader

-> eventual smut

-> Mikes friends Sister

-> mentions of alcohol/drunk mike

->3.5K words

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Everyday felt the same. It was the same drag. Wake up, work, go to sleep, wake up, work, go to sleep and so on.

Today was different how ever. I was going over to my friend Tyler’s house. Abby decided to stay at her friends this weekend. So I had some down time.

I head up to his house. Knocking on the door. He lived about 10 minutes away. Took me 20 to get here. I like to just drive around. Take my mind off things.

Tyler opens the door and looks down at me. He’s always been taller. Which made me slightly annoyed.

“Come on in. Oh by the way.. my sister moved in. She needs a place to stay so. Sorry if she annoys you.” He chuckled and plopped on his couch. I’ve only ever met Tyler’s sister once. Back a few years ago. She came to his Christmas party.

I shrug not really caring and sit down beside him. He chats with me about random things. We hadn’t hung out in 2 months. We’d call but that was about it.

”Hey, I gotta run to the store.” Tyler says getting up. “Im gonna get us some booze. Gonna have a fun night. Your sisters at a friends yeah?” Tyler asked making sure it was okay to get drunk tonight.

“Yeah she’s staying over.” I answer looking down at my shoes. Even around Tyler I couldn’t seem to pull out a happy tone.

“Sick. Ima go get some then. You need to loosen up a little tonight. Relax. You can watch what ever you want.” He says as he headed out. Of course. He leaves me alone here.

Not that I mind much. I’ve stayed over here a lot before my dad took his life. Back when I had a little more freedom.

Not that I mind taking care of Abby. She gave me a reason to keep going. Though sometimes a little break is nice.

I hear a door down the hallway open. I almost forgot Tyler’s sister was here. She came walking into the living room. Her eyes landed on me and she gave a confused look.

“He went to the store.” I said looking over at her. My eyes linger a little. She must of got all the good looking genes. Tyler got zero.

“Mike right? Tyler’s friend?” She asked walking over. I nod and look at the tv again.

“Yeah.” I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes on the Tv. “Not much of a talker?” She asked curiously.

“Not really..” I say my voice quite. I didn’t wanna show any interest. She was Tyler’s sister. I also felt slightly uncomfortable.

“You and him gonna get drunk?” She stood up and headed to the kitchen.

“Probably. I don’t drink much so.. this will be fun I hope.” My reply wasn’t much of a welcoming one. I didn’t wanna talk. I hated talking to new people.

Last time I talked to her I was more than likely black out drunk on Christmas.

“Right. Well I’m gonna go back to my room. Don’t tear up the house please.” Her request made me look at her. She was already off down the hall.

I assume Tyler makes her clean or she does most the cleaning. Tyler obviously wasn’t the one keeping this house so in order.

——

I was about 8 beers in. They tasted terrible. But my mind was fuzzy. One thing I liked about getting drunk was I didn’t feel so sad. I loosened up. Me and Tyler were cracking jokes. He offered to invite some more friends over. Soon enough there was a party.

How the hell did we get to this? There was about 10 of us now. Not too big of a party but still. This house was too cramped for all of us. They were busy watching some game show on tv.

I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. I felt like I was gonna throw up. Maybe drinking wasn’t so fun. I finally made it and slung the door open. Falling down and just breathed heavily.

When did walking become so tiering?

I let my head fall back on the rim of the tub. Just sitting there. Trying to subside the feeling. I hated throwing up. Something about it just made me afraid.

I covered my face and then slid my hands down. Letting them pull my skin till they fell off back to my chest. Foot steps came walking to the bathroom. Probably Tyler or one of his friends. They’d make me get up and leave. I didn’t feel like leaving though.

Instead my eyes landed on Y/N. She looked down at me. Partly confused and partly annoyed. “This is my bathroom. If you wanna puke in Tyler’s go upstairs.” She walked over to me and bent down.

“I don’t wanna go upstairs. I wanna stay here.” I looked up at her with pleading eyes. She sighed and sat down beside me instead. Crossing her arms over her chest.

“Fine. But I’m staying in here with you.” She kicked the door closed with her foot. “I don’t like any of Tyler’s friends. They’re all annoying.” She leaned her head back line mine. Smiling a little.

“Yeah. I don’t think they’re so bad.” I shrugged. Honestly that was a lie. I hated them. They were too loud and wanted to watch sports all day. I just wanted to sleep. Or be alone.

“You live in town?” Her question jolted me out of my thoughts. “Yeah, only a few minutes away. Where did you come from?” I turned to her.

“I was going to college back in our home state Arizona but.. money ran short. So I asked Tyler if I could stay with him here. He makes good money. He said yes and I work down at the diner now. Sparkys. It’s nice. My co-worker Ness says I should leave. Go back to college and be the great scientist I should be. I wish it was that simple.” She sighed. Her eyes going down to her feet. That feeling of not being good enough hit home to me.

“Hey, you’ll make it back one day. Stuff takes time. You wanna be a scientist you say? That’s pretty cool. I just work security at the mall.” I tried to cheer her up. Make my life sound terrible. I mean it is. She doesn’t have to know that.

“That’s not so bad. I think a security job suits you. Maybe I will.. or maybe I’ll change careers. Maybe being a server at Sparkys my whole life would be amazing.” Sarcasm laced her voice at the end. I frowned slightly and looked away. The buzzing feeling coming back in my head.

“I get it. Feeling like a dead end. Life is difficult but.. we all make it with what we got.” I closed my eyes. She said something but I honestly didn’t hear. I was already asleep.

——

So rightfully so when you wake up in your own house after blacking out in a friends bathroom you’d be confused. Which I was. I looked around. How the hell did I even get back here? Did I drive? No possible way.

I looked down at my night stand and the answer was there for me. I picked up the small slip of paper.

‘You blacked out, drove you home. Lucky Tyler remembered your address. - Y/N’

A small smile creeped on my face. At least there was some hope for kind people in the world. Aunt Jane could use some lessons.

I grabbed my black hoodie and slid it on. Going for my dark blue jeans.

I didn’t have work tonight. So maybe I’d take Abby out for dinner.

——

I would be lying if I said I picked Sparkys cause it’s my favorite diner. It’s not. I only come here sometimes. Abby loved it though. She loved the milk shakes.

We headed inside. Abby over joyed to get out of the house. Me on the other hand. I had about $10 to tip our waitress. She deserved it.

We headed inside picked out booth and waited. Y/N came walking over. In the usual Sparkys outfit. She smiled at me before seeing Abby.

“Didn’t know you had a kid.” She teased. Abby’s face scrunched up. “Gross. He’s my brother.” She corrected. Doing what kids do best and acting disgusted.

“Yeah she’s my little sister.” I nodded noticing Y/N’s demeanor shift. She seemed relaxed. Maybe she thought I had a wife or girl friend. Which wouldn’t look good if she took me home.

“What can I get for you two tonight?” She asked pulling out her note pad.

——

We ate dinner. Got the check. $14.30 wasn’t so bad. Abby did get a milk shake. I watched Abby as she raced out to the car. I slid down the $10 tip writing on the napkin.

‘Thanks for taking me home. - mike’

I walked up to the cash register. Paying the bill and heading out to take Abby and me home.

——

So to say the least I hadn’t seen Y/N in 2 weeks. No reason to go to Tyler’s and no reason to go to Sparkys. Until Abby begged to go. She wanted a milk shake. I couldn’t say no.

So we headed back. Going inside felt different. Like my hope of seeing Y/N against wasn’t going to happen tonight. And truth be told. It didn’t. Ness sat us. I remember him. I’ve talked to him maybe 4 times. Heard about him through Y/N as well at the ‘party’.

he greeted us cheerfully and sat us down.

“I’ll be back with that Pepsi and your milk shake.” He smiled and walked off to the kitchen.

I was looking around. Searching for Y/N. Why I have no clue. Why did I care if she was working tonight?

“Who you looking for?” Abby asked curiously I quickly looked over at her. “No one just looking around.” My face blushed. Of course she catches me.

“There’s not much to look at. Are you looking for that girl?” She smiled wide. How does she always know?

“No..” I lied feeling my face flush more. “Sure.” Her simple reply told me everything. She definitely knew.

“She’s pretty. Why don’t you tell her you like her?” Such an innocent question. Why don’t I tell her?

“I don’t know Abs .. it’s complicated.” I sighed leaning my head in my hands.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.” She urged on. “Just tell her she’s pretty.”

“I.. Abby let’s drop it okay?” I was getting irritated. Not at her. At my self. I always do this. Never say what I want too. I guess if I want to get with someone I have to make moves.

On big problem is she’s Tyler’s sister. I don’t wanna just date his sister without his approval.. which in part isn’t his business but.. we’ve been friends for so long it be wrong to not ask.

“Here’s that milk shake for you little lady.” Ness says smiling setting down Abby’s milk shake.

“Y/N says thanks for the tip. She wasn’t sure when she’d see you again. But she told me about it.” Ness spoke to me. Which made me look at him confused for a moment. “Oh ugh.. tell her it’s no problem.” I answered nervously he gave a little smirk. Like he was definitely going to tell Y/N about this interaction.

——

It’s been 5 weeks. 5 whole weeks. I really should’ve left my number. My mind races every night. Thoughts of her. How can someone fall for another in such short time? With such little interactions?

I feel like knowing she cared enough to take me home made me fall harder. Never having anyone in my high school days also makes this harder.

My mind tracks back to any girl I’ve talked too. Any girl I’ve let get intimate with me that would end it after a week or two. None of them did something this small that made me feel this much.

I close my eyes and all I can see is her. I doubt she thinks of me.

I haven’t went back to Sparkys. I don’t wanna look like a creep. Though I’d die to see her again. Just chat. Even a simple hello would be enough.

I’m cool on the outside how ever. Abby hasn’t mentioned her since that night at Sparkys.

Tyler hasn’t called me. I assume we won’t hang out for a good while again.

The second I thought all hopes were lost and this crush of mine was a waste I met her again.

We were down at the store. Just trying to get some last minute groceries before it closed. I bumped into her.

She said she had to get some food for the house. Tyler never wanted to go grocery shopping. I nodded and listened to her rant. She thanked me for the tip. Thought she told me not to do it again. It was too much money to leave as a tip.

She wasn't wrong. I could really use every penny I got but.. it seemed worth it for her.

We exchanged numbers. Stating how she had few friends in this town. On the outside I was cool about it. Just giving her my home phone number. On the inside though. My stomach was doing flips.

——

So we call. We chat. We hang out at my house. She didn’t want Tyler to think she was stealing his friend.

Funny enough she was.

We sat on the couch. It had been 3 weeks since we started talking. Abby went off to some friends for the weekend. Tabitha was the girls name. They had been friends for a while. I had no problem with her going to a friends. At least she had more than me.

“You think this movie is good?” Y/N asked as I looked at her. Shrugging I lean back in the couch. “Honestly no, but it’s something to watch.” She giggled at my response. “I suppose you’re right.” She leaned back copying my position. She was slightly closer.

Closer than she had been before.

I could feel her arm against mine. The heat from the small amount friction felt like it set me on fire. Not even the sleeves of my black hoodie could cloak the feeling of her arm.

I don’t wanna be a perv. I wish I didn’t pick jeans to wear tonight. They weren’t doing me any favors as I felt my dick harden.

I prayed she didn’t notice. It be to obvious if I took the pillow at the end of the couch and hid it. It also be weird if I didn’t.

My eyes stayed glued to the tv. My face turning red. My stomach was doing flips. All just from her arm touching mine. That was until..

“You okay?” She asked looking in my eyes. I looked back at her nervously. “Yeah.. fine.” I swallowed back my spit nervously. She was leaning closer. Too close. If the bulge in my pants didn’t scream I like you the redness on my face sure would.

Her eyes flicked down. I was so caught. She’d tell Tyler and he’d tell me off for finding his sister attractive. I’d lose a friend. I’d lose my dignity and be even more embarrassed.

I watched her as her eyes flicked back up to mine. A small smirk spread across her face. Not the reaction I was thinking off.

“Want some help?” She asked, when did her voice become so seductive? If it was possible my face got even redder. It felt like the fiery pits of hell had come up to my face.

“W-what..?” Of course I sound like a nervous idiot. “Do you want help?” She titled her head having that look on her face. Her hand rested in my thigh now.

“Would it be weird if I said yes?” Some confidence had come back. I could do this.

“It be weird if you said no.” She giggled and slid her hand up further. Her palm of her hand rubbed up my bulge. Did I get the right size jeans?

I groaned as she rubbed back and forth. It was one thing to have my hand do it but to have hers? It felt 10x better.

I leaned my head back and let her do her thing. Till she crawled up onto my lap. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

She smirked down at me wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“You’re so hot.” Her words hit my ears and that was it. She pressed her lips to mine and my hands instantly went to her grabbing her hips. She grinned against me, I’d push her down harder. Moans escaped my lips in between kisses. The feeling of her jeans against me was something else.

She finally pulled away. Catching her breath between unbuttoning her jeans. Before I could even blink they were off. Leaving her in her underwear. My eyes shot up to her. Trying to be as respectful as I could.

“I didn’t take you to be such a horny guy. You fooled me with the sweet and quiet act.” She unzipped my jeans. I don’t respond. I was too caught up in the moment. Before I know it she had my pants off and was back to grinding. This time it felt 100x different.

It almost hurt how good it felt. To feel my cock slipping between her folds. Though I slightly wished the fabrics of our under garments weren’t there.

Her tongue slid into my mouth after a small gasp. I didn’t ever wanna let her go. I didn’t ever want my dick to go soft again. I just wanted to make out on this couch for ever.

“I want you Mike.” Her words made my dick twitch, my heart race, and my head spin. “I want you too..” I moaned out as she kissed my neck. Her lips were so intoxicating. Wether on my lips or skin. I wanted them. I wanted them all over me.

I was growing tired of waiting. I wanted her. I wanted her so bad. I wanted her now, tomorrow , and forever.

I slid my hand down. Pulling my dick out of my boxers. She put her forehead against mine and we locked eyes. She nodded slowly. Giving me the green light to go head. I used my other hand and pushed her underwear to the side. Giving me enough room to just slid in.

She moved her head to the crook of my neck and moaned. I gently guided my self inside before I was all the way in.

“You’re so fucking good.” She whispered in my ear. That sent me in a craze. Because I don’t even remember when but we ended up in my room. Clothes completely off. Going on round 2.

——

My thoughts spun around as I saw her laying on my bed. Naked. I looked down at my self.

We did it..

i felt her shift and sit up slowly. I felt her eyes on me so I turned to look. Her face was red and she smiled awkwardly. “Hey..”

“Hey.” I answered looking down. Should I ask? What if she thought last night was a one time thing? Just a quick fuck and go back to being friends.

“Was last night-“ “did you-“

We both stopped and laughed a little. “You go first.” I offer, she nodded and sighed.

“Did you..like it? Or well.. do you like me? I just wanna know if last night was just something for fun or do you genuinely like me?” Her question stung a little.

She thought I was just doing it for fun? Do I come off as that big of an ass hole?

“No. No no.. I didn’t just do it for fun. I genuinely like you.. a lot.” I scooted closer. She smiled a little. Relief washed over her face.

“Thank god… I was worried you were just using me.. as like.. I don’t know ‘My friends hot sister is in town let’s try to fuck her.’ .. I don’t know. It’s stupid.” She looked down. I frowned and leaned closer to her.

“I’d never do that to you. I think you’re a beautiful and smart girl. Someone who doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I wanna get to know you. Learn about science with you. Hell maybe even.. go further in life with you… if you wanted to that is.” My face flushed as I pooled out my thoughts. Her sweet laugh filled my ears and she kissed me. Not a sexual kiss, just a sweet gentle kiss. Much different from last night.

“I’d love to teach you about science and go further in life with you and just get to know you as well..”

I felt over joyed. That was until we had to tell Tyler. Turns out he already knew. He had a hunch his sister talking about some guy everyday wasn’t just some guy.

Abby approves of her too. They often hang out and color together. I’m sorta jealous I can’t join in on the ‘girl squad’ hang outs but. At least I have my two favorite girls in the whole world with me.

That's all I need.

#mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf #josh hutcherson #fnaf fanfic #mike schmidt smut #fnaf smut

253 notes · View notes

eilishsluv · 7 months

Note

could u write a fanfic maybe a angst to fluff? perhaps billie stops giving attention and reader overthinks which leads to angst then fluff. hope ur well:)

sure anon! i hope this is how you wanted<3

attention

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: billie had stopped giving you the attention she used to which lead to you overthinking & so an argument

warnings: arguing, hickies, kissing & unedited

notes: this was fun to write, enjoy reading:)

billie was an extremely busy person, she had been ever since she stepped foot into the famous business. but these past few weeks you've been feeling extremely neglected by her, its happened before but never for this long. usually only afew days but its almost been 2 months. this had made your thoughts sprial.

overthinking was a bad habit of yours but how could you not especially right now? her flirty comments with other famous people, fans & just anyone. you loved billie & so did she, but now you definitely doubted it.

you both laid in her bed, your head on her chest & usually she'd avoid her phone, or atleast her hands somewhere on you, but no, not today. billie had both her hands on her phone, with her arms on either side of you, barely brushing against you as she typed.

you were done, the jealousy, overthinking & worry got to you. you managed to move away from billie & off the bed.

"whats wrong baby?" billie questioned watching you look around the room.

you ignored her completely, although hearing her voice & petname hurt your heart terribly. scurrying around her room finding your clothes & some of your belongings, billies brain started to tik realising you were leaving.

"woah woah woah, y/n what are you doing?" billie started to move off the bed to stand with you. this made your blood boil.

"oh so you can flirt with other people, ignore me completely, make me feel like shit but you expect me to stay & deal with all of it?" as you talked your voice got louder & louder, you were pissed.

the distress was visible in her face, you stared at her waiting on a response.

"y/n what are you on about?" billie was on the verge of tears, you on the other hand had hot tears streaming down your cheeks already.

"you think i dont see everything you do billie?! for fucks sake, i mean really? really. every single comment you make on another person breaks me apart cause i went from hearing them every single second to once a week if im fucking lucky!" your voice broke all throughout that sentence but you had to get that out, but you couldnt scream all you wanted to.

billie slowly stepped towards where you were standing. she was insanely intimidating when she wanted to be, all you did was step further back up until you hit the wall.

she stared deep into your eyes, hers showed a sad although dominant expression.

"is that all you think & feel?" billie looked as if she was joking, you didnt care. she asked for it whether or not she was serious.

you scoffed looking down then back up into her eyes.

"do you seriously think thats all? i mean billie all i fucking want is your attention but you dont even give a single fuck to me anymore. you have done nothing but ignore me for weeks!" screaming that in her face felt therapeutic but also painful.

billie looked speechless, you guys had argued before but never over something like this.

"you think i dont love you?" her sentence hung in the air, your face gave it all away. billie cleared her throat before continuing.

"which other girl is dancing in my house, wearing my clothes, coming with me to events, sleeping in my bed in my arms, cooking me dinner or listening to me make a new album? y/n you are the only girl i want & need, i own up to being distant but i dont want another girl" billies tears started to fall. you wiped them away as she leaned into your touch.

"im sorry baby." you felt like shit for everything you did in the past 10 minutes.

"dont be sorry for my actions & how ive treated you" you both felt bad but only wanted one thing, & that was eachother.

billie leaned down into your neck, leaving kisses & marks. it was one of her ways of saying sorry & that she loves you.

"i love you" you spoke

"i love you mamas" billie answered back.

she was all you wanted & you were all she wanted, she definitely cleaned her act up after that.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #eilishsluv

404 notes · View notes

jude5bellingham · 2 months

Text

tbt pt.2 ౨ৎ trent alexander-arnold

part one here!

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x f!reader

summary: part two of throwback thursday, reader is lfc's photographer but people start thinking there is something off when she is exclusively posting tbts

notes: hope u guys enjoy :3

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and liverpoolfc

liked by trentarnold66, liverpoolfc and 102,549 others

yourusername my first heartbreak tbh.. #tbt

view all 80,435 comments

trentarnold66 mine too

yourusername wrong actually! your first heartbreak was when i laughed in your face when you asked me out cause i thought you had to have been joking

ibrahimakonate oh wow😂😂

user1 trent getting aired out on a tbt of 2021/2022 ucl finals post of yn's is crazy😭😭

trentarnold66 it was just a misunderstanding 😒 we are literally married now anyways

virgilvandijk no need to open old wounds

yourusername sorry skip im running out of content

mosalah you will have more if you comeback!

yourusername soon mo!!!!

andyrobertson94 comeback to work soon

yourusername hopefully

user2 yn isnt at work???

user3 we miss you yn

user4 real lads' first heartbreaks💔

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and england

liked by trentarnold66, england and 100,878 others

yourusername throwback to when my (now) ex-boyfriend made me pay stupidly expensive tickets to see him #tbt

view all 60,090 comments

trentarnold66 did not

yourusername did too

joegomez5 you two are such children

yourusername 🤫

trentarnold66 stop calling me your exboyfriend

yourusername you literally are mate

andyrobertson94 your exboyfriend sounds terrible

yourusername he didn't even score! why'd i spend all that money!

ibrahimakonate 😂😂😂

szoboszlaidominik what's your exboyfriends @

yourusername oh hell no....

user5 her calling trent (her husband) her ex boyfriend 😭😭😭

user6 they're literally so funny 😭😭😭

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and england

liked by trentarnold66, england and 120,432 others

yourusername shouting out this young lad from liverpool #tbt

view all 80,003 comments

trentarnold66 ...

andyrobertson94 up and coming young scouse lad

curtisjr young lad just trying to make it

judebellingham that is broski 🙏

user7 i wonder how trent felt seeing these pictures 😭😭

user8 has anyone else noticed she's only been posting tbts?? i know she does normally but she hasn't uploaded a not tbt in a while..

user9 she might just be going through old content!! she has a habit of uploading extra pics from old tbts later when she feels like she needs to post more!!

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66

liked by trentarnold66, liverpoolfc and 109,883 others

yourusername even with setbacks, just know YNWA ❤️‍🩹 #tbt

view all 65,556 comments

trentarnold66 i miss you at the games

yourusername alright pack it up loverboy

yourusername i miss you at games too... GET BACK ON THE PITCH!

judebellingham mate can never catch a break huh

yourusername nope!

user109 WE also miss you yn

harvelliott we miss you

❤️ liked by yourusername

liverpoolfc yn YOU need to remember that ynwa ❤️❤️

curtisjr ^^ ❤️

mosalah ^^ ❤️

ibrahimakonate ^^ ❤️

virgilvandijk ^^ ❤️

yourusername okay relax guys i'm going to cry and i'm a real ugly crier...

trentarnold66 @yourusername liar

andyrobertson94 trent's just a sap after all

user10 is yn okay? why did lfc comment that?

user11 did yn leave lfc?

user12 why are they all leaving hearts and saying ynwa?? did yn leave??

user13 i hope everything is alright yn ❤️ YNWA❤️

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and england

liked by trentarnold66, england and 100,409 others

yourusername when @england hired me for the season and then i literally just watched him have stronger bonds with men than me but that's ok i guess #tbt

view all 80,867 comments

trentarnold66 i'm not even going to say anything

aaronramsdale you're acting like trent didn't kick me out of the room to spend time with you

yourusername okay don't get dramatic! it wasn't even your bed!

aaronsramsdale 🙁

england 😳

yourusername 😳

judebellingham no photos of trent and i?

yourusername yeah as if i was gonna post my ex-boyfriend's side ting

judebellingham ex-boyfriend 😭

user14 did yn leave lfc for the england nt???

user15 if you left for the england nt, we still love you yn ❤️❤️

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and liverpoolfc

yourusername yes i have heard the news, trust me we are all devastated but YNWA klopp and thank you for the memories, especially the ones in the making ❤️❤️❤️ #tbt

user has restricted comments on this post

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and andyrobertson94

liked by trentarnold, andyrobertson94 and 101,255 others

yourusername no words can describe how i feel about this friendship but maybe this ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 emoji can! #tbt

view all 90,888 comments

andyrobertson94 love you both❤️❤️ can't wait for your return

trentarnold66 ❤️

szoboszlaidominik that should be me 💔

yourusername leave my ex-boyfriend and his husband alone... homewrecker...

user16 we hope you feel better ❤️❤️ we miss you and klopp

user17 klopp hasnt even left yet

user18 tell that to the hole in my heart

yourusername and trentarnold66

liked by trentarnold66, andyrobertson94 and 150,809 others

yourusername hi everyone! i'm so sorry i did not say anything during these last few months... if i'm honest they were very difficult. I was not myself for the last few months so I took a leave of absence from lfc, that i'm so incredibly grateful for, and i tried to post like usual even though i was running out of photos and energy. Trent's injury, Klopp's announcement, and everything else in this world felt incredibly hard to deal with but even in those times I could always turn to this community to put a smile on my face. I'm so happy to let you all know Trent and I have welcomed a beautiful and healthy son to our family. anyways, long story short, always remember that i love you and that ynwa❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

view all 109,004 comments

andyrobertson94 Proud godfather here!❤️❤️

user229 omg😭😭😭

liverpoolfc congratulations yn! we love you & ynwa❤️

virgilvandijk ❤️

curtisjr new young scouse lad about to become a superstar 💫

judebellingham 🤍

aaronramsdale ❤️

jordanhenderson ❤️❤️

szoboszlaidominik ❤️

ibrahimakonate ❤️

user19 we love you yn❤️❤️

user20 im so glad you put yourself first❤️❤️

yourusername

liked by trentarnold66, andyrobertson94 and 109,899 others

yourusername my pretty boy 🤍🤍

view all 30,990 comments

yourusername trent is there too i guess

andyrobertson94 you know you could've asked me to take a picture of the three of you right

yourusername you don't get it andy

andyrobertson94 🙄

virgilvandijk two very stylish lads in the pics

yourusername it's cause i styled them after you skipp😁

curtisjr didnt know your exboyfriend could dress so well

yourusername he can't without my help 😕😕

user21 sobs... this is so cute😭😭

user22 dilf trent

❤️ liked by yourusername

user23 theyre soo cute together 😭😭

yourusername

tagged trentarnold66 and liverpoolfc

liked by trentarnold66, liverpoolfc and 120,389 others

yourusername some day my kids will know the winner that their father is #tbt

view all 89,343 comments

liverpoolfc they'll watch him win another with their own eyes

❤️ liked by yourusername

andyrobertson94 more importantly, they'll know how big of a winner their godfather is

yourusername honestly... you kind of are the captain of scotland and a member of the great british empire ...

trentarnold66 okay stop agreeing with each other

yourusername no need for jealousy in my comments

user24 KIDS??? AS IN PLURAL????

user25 omg is this a pregnancy announcement 😭😭

user26 ANOTHER ONE??? OMG

user27 UGHHHHH SPILLLLL

yourusername and trentarnold66

liked by trentarnold66, andyrobertson94 and 100,445 others

yourusername i don't think i could even begin to describe how happy and grateful i am, but i will try. i love the family i have created here in liverpool with the help of everyone. you are all family, thank you for the love and support you have always shown me. ❤️❤️

user has restricted comments on this post

309 notes · View notes

widowmaxff · 3 months

Note

I’ve been having some bad days, could you write something where Y/N is having a rough week and pretends she’s fine except Wanda knows her daughter and comforts her?

I just love the way you write Wanda as a mother and that she just always knows

overwhelmed

pairings: mom!wanda maximoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst, reader crying, depressed reader — i think that's all!

a/n: tysm for your request love and im so sorry for your bad days, i really hope things get better for you and if you need someone to talk you can dm me, okay? <33

Interacting with any other human being was the last thing you wanted to do today. Saying that you had a bad week was an understatement, all the bad things that could happen to you happened. And not just things around you, but also your mind didn't stop for a second. You felt so overwhelmed that anyone could see on your face how much that week was hurting you.

"This can't be happening right now." You mumble as you feel the raindrops start to fall on your head. There was still more than half the way until you arrived at the Compound, you didn't have an umbrella, much less a coat to protect yourself from the cold that would come. No one could come and get you since everyone was busy and you didn't want to disturb your mother, she had enough problems to deal with yours.

You were coming home from school after another stressful day. You've spent the last few weeks studying for an incredibly difficult test, especially in a subject you had difficulty with, and seeing that big red note made your urge to cry even more. You studied so much that you thought it was impossible for that to happen. So many nights without having slept and so many energy drinks wasted for nothing.

You were absolutely soaked when you stepped into the Compound. Your sneakers made a funny noise when you stepped on them, but the only thing you wanted to do now was take them off your feet and throw them at the person closest to you, shouting in their face. "You're going to clean this up, Little Maximoff." Tony's annoying voice says, obviously joking, but still your head hurt just hearing that you had to do something that day. Your jaw tightens and you close your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.

"I know, Tony." You ramble, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible. You walk past him to head towards your room, feeling your eyes burn from having something else on your list of things that made your week worse than it already was.

On normal days the first thing you would do was go look for your mother in her office, but the last thing you wanted to do that day was worry her, because you knew that the moment she laid eyes on you she would know that something was wrong. And filling her with your problems would make you feel guilty for a long time, you hated making people feel sorry for you and looking like you were a baby. You just needed to calm down, didn't you?

"Fuck!" You scream when you see all your notebooks soaked, especially your sketchbook, which you spent hours and hours drawing. You drop your things on the floor and run your hands through your hair, taking a deep breath. You wished your mother was there now, she would know what to do and help you with whatever you needed to calm down, but you put that idea out of your head before you ran towards her arms.

You enter the bathroom connected to your room and take off your clothes before you catch a cold. The hot water from the shower makes your muscles finally relax after the terrible days you prayed would end. In a few seconds you no longer knew what water was or what the tears on your face were. All those things that happened in your week came together into one, and you started to feel like you were on that empty, dark hole that took you a long time to get out of. You thought that maybe the problem was you, that maybe you deserved all those bad things, from the smallest to the ones that made you cry and scream like that moment.

You didn't hear the knock on your door because your bad thoughts were so loud that it was almost impossible to even hear the shower water hitting the floor. But when Wanda entered her room after hearing no response, she felt like something was wrong at the moment. She looks at your completely wet things lying on the floor and frowns. You told your mom you didn't need a ride home from school, but apparently, you did.

"Honey, is everything okay?" When she heard the shower turning off after long minutes, she knocked on the bathroom door just to let you know she was there and see if everything was okay. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." You say in a low voice, taking a deep breath. You knew that the moment you left the bathroom, your mother would know that your bad thoughts came back again, but you also knew that she wouldn't pressure you to say anything.

You close the bathroom door quietly, finally looking into Wanda's green eyes and seeing the worry through them. She held your backpack in her hands with her face confused at you, because she wouldn't think twice to get in the car and drive to you. "I was almost here at the Compound and the rain caught me." You chuckled, trying to hide your red eyes, your cheeks and the tip of your nose with the same color as your mother's hair.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks again, her face relaxed now. You put a fake smile on your face, but still with enormous affection for your mother.

"Yeah, just a little upset that my sketchbook got ruined, but it's okay." You don't completely lie. Yes, you were upset that your drawings would now have to go in the trash, but no, nothing was okay.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Wanda says approaching you. You just throw it away, muttering 'it's okay' but she wraps her arms around you, giving you a relaxing hug. Your mother leaves a long kiss on your head, making the urge to cry increase even more. You loved all the affectionate actions that your mother gave you, it made you feel so vulnerable and light. "Come on, let's get you something to eat, shall we?" You didn't like eating when you were feeling bad like that, you felt like you were going to throw up when you put anything in your stomach because of the anxiety, but you just agreed.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice when you arrived in the kitchen which, unfortunately, was made up of a few people. You felt so overwhelmed that being in the same environment as some people made you feel even worse. The small group of Avengers on your left irritated you. The loud noises they made. The conversations. The sound of people swallowing food. The tapping of Steve's shoe on the floor. Everything irritated you. From the small scratches on the counter to the farthest lamp that blinked every one minute and two seconds. Wanda noticed that. She noticed that you were itching to keep from freaking out. That you closed your eyes tightly trying to ignore your surroundings. That she needed to do something to help. She wanted to come to you and ask what intrigued you so much. What made you take deep breaths and crack your fingers every second was curious.

"Thank you, momma." She almost didn't hear you because of your low and hoarse voice. Wanda leaves a kiss on your head as she watches your foot bouncing up and down, eating the sandwich she made.

Wanda debated in her head what she could do to make you feel better. She knew she couldn't pressure you into saying anything, but she was so worried that she would do anything to see you well again. And even if it got to the point where she had to read your mind, she couldn't. You somehow managed to block your mother from reading your thoughts and seeing what was wrong.

You place your plate in the sink, taking a deep breath. Finally you would get away from people and that feeling of anxiety would finally leave you, that's what you thought. You thought that just a few hours of lying in bed doing nothing would solve your problems, but deep down, you knew that wasn't what would happen. And, now walking towards your room, not even your plan of closing yourself under the covers would be complete, as your mother followed you with the comfortable atmosphere that she always exuded.

You lie in your bed watching your mother calmly wait for your permission to lie down next to you. You nod to her with a smile on your face. Wanda puts her arms around your body, running her hand on your back, making your body relax. You loved these moments between the two of you, you realized how important you are to her and how loved you are. "You know you can always talk to me, don't you?" She murmurs, making you lean into her even more. Your face was in the crook of her neck, hiding how your lip trembled trying to hold back your crying. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

You finally let out a sob when Wanda murmurs those words that came out of her mouth so sweetly. Her grip around you tightens as she feels tears fall onto the skin of her neck, leaving a kiss on your head. The caress on your back never stopped, reassuring you that you were safe in your mother's arms. "It's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay." You hated crying out loud, but at that moment you couldn't control all those feelings that made your heart ache spilling across your face, and Wanda was there to remind you that it was okay to cry and feel that way. "I-I'm sorry."

"Honey... we never apologize because of our emotions, right? Never." Wanda pulls you to place you on her lap, making you lay your head on her chest. You start playing with the hem of your mother's shirt, sniffling as you try to think of words you could say to her. "Do you want to talk about it, детка?"

"It was just... a bad week." You murmur, snuggling even closer to Wanda, feeling her heartbeat in your ear, which made you calm down a little more. "I just- I'm just feeling so overwhelmed and... and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, baby... it's okay. We'll get through this, yeah? It's okay to feel this way and I'll help you with whatever you need, my love." She strokes your hair, making your body relax in her lap. You agree, feeling her comfortable words enter your ears and help you with the horrible thoughts. "You're so strong, honey. Remember you're not alone, okay?" You mumble something, agreeing with her. You never knew how Wanda could make you feel better with just a few words, maybe it was her magic? You never knew. But she would always be your best friend and the person who would always make you feel better again. "Thank you, momma."

You would never be able to explain how grateful you were to have your mother by your side, because there are so many people in the world who don't have that comfort, and just thinking about not having someone to help you through your episodes made you feel sick. Even if she didn't say it, you knew Wanda was afraid you'd go back to that time when the hole was deeper than it is now. You remember exactly how she cried with you when you vented to her about everything you were feeling, and how she helped you every step of the way again.

"You don't need to thank me, детка. I love you so much, okay? I will always be by your side, on whatever you need." And you knew she was telling the truth, because Wanda loves you so much. You will always be her little miracle and the most important thing in her life. She feels so proud of you, because she knows that you can get through this, that you are strong enough to get through all the challenges in your life. She believes in your ability to overcome these difficult times - because you can - and there will always be people to support and walk alongside you, because you'll never be alone.

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nina-ya · 4 months

Note

HII!!1!1!1 i hope ur doing well

im currently sick (GRAHH) my throat has been hurting

ANYWAYSSS since i havent been able to sleep (its like umm 4:23 am) i had this little ermmm ideaaa :3

law x reader but the reader is shy n she doesnt know how to say “no” to people so law has to step in whenever too many people start asking her for help n shit

AAAAA idk bye bye have a great day/night pookie bearrrr

Law When You Don't Know How To Say 'No'

A/N: HI!! I am sorry that this took me so long but here it issss This was honestly a bit too easy to write since im lowkey (highkey) the same way,,, ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy!!! Pairing: Law x reader CW: Cursing WC: 1.4k

Law noticed your tendency to always say yes to everything from the moment he first met you. When you guys would be wandering islands, you bought every item from merchants who tried to haggle with you. When citizens asked for your help, even if their intentions were obviously terrible, you couldn't resist saying yes. You even put up with friends whom you knew were less than ideal for months, all because you never had the courage to step away. You always said “yes” to people, and frankly, Law was getting tired of it.

The lectures from him never seemed to end. Almost nightly, you heard the broody captain telling you to ‘stand up for yourself’ and how ‘you can’t keep saying yes to everyone.’ Yet, despite Law's advice, you couldn't help but continue your habitual affirmation. The pattern had become ingrained in your nature, and breaking free from it proved more challenging than you anticipated.

You found yourself caught in an interesting situation this time around. The Heart Pirates had chosen to dine at a tavern on an island where they were docked. At first glance, it seemed like the perfect haven for pirates, since it's main clientele were pirates themselves. However, the moment you all walked in and witnessed the chaos, it became clear that your assumptions were very wrong. If it weren’t for the fact that this tavern was the only food establishment that accepted pirates, you all would have walked right out. Instead, you kept to yourselves by Law's orders and settled into a corner booth to eat.

The drinks arrived first, followed closely by the food. Everyone dug in rather quickly. You happened to be the first to finish your drink, and the desire for a refill tugged at you. However, as you observed the chaos around the tavern, you noticed the waitress busy preventing another group of pirates from shooting each others heads off. Deciding not to add to her workload, you opted to head to the bar and refill your drink on your own.

Approaching the bar, you leaned onto it with your empty cup in hand, waiting for the equally busy bartender to notice you. Lost in thought, you heard the scrape of a barstool next to you, and your attention was drawn to a larger man taking a seat.

"What are you having?" The man asked, his deep voice resonating as he leaned closer to you.

"Oh, it's nothing," you replied with a nervous laugh, hopeful that the bartender would soon notice your empty cup.

"Well, why don’t you let me get you another one of those?" he offered, leaning in once more. You subtly leaned away, feeling his presence a bit too close for comfort. Undeterred, he continued, "You know, we can always use someone like you on my crew. We would treat you well, and who knows, maybe you’ll have a different kind of fun with us," he suggested.

A wave of revulsion washed over you at his lewd proposition, prompting you to redirect your focus to the bar before you. Your words stumbled in an attempt to deny his request, "Oh, um, well, that’s a nice offer, but…" Yet, the refusal lingered unspoken, lost in the unease of the moment.

His smirk deepened, the subtle twist of his lips revealing a hint of satisfaction as he responded, "It is a nice offer indeed. So what do you say? We set sail tonight, and my crew would love to have someone like you around." He gestured toward his crew behind him, and your gaze involuntarily drifted to them. Some appraised you with lingering looks, while others seemed to undress you with their eyes, treating you as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat on display.

Back where Law was, he noticed that you had been gone for a while. His sharp eyes scanned the room, and a sense of concern flickered across his face when they landed on you at the bar, engaged in conversation with a larger pirate. "Shit," he muttered to himself, a distinct tension tightening his jaw. Excusing himself from the table, he swiftly made his way over to you. As he approached, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of the conversation.

“Come on, join me on the sea. I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” the larger man urged, attempting to coax you into considering his offer.

“I, uh…” You started, your words faltering, leaving you struggling to defend yourself in the face of his persistence.

Unable to tolerate the uncomfortable scene any longer, Law stepped up behind you. A firm hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, and he spoke up, his voice cutting through the awkward atmosphere, "Hey, fuck off, they're with me."

You jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, but the tension in your shoulders immediately eased as you recognized Law's presence. A sigh of relief escaped you as the larger man grew visibly upset and angered by Law's bold interruption. "And who are you supposed to be?" the man demanded, his crew getting riled up in response to their captain being openly defied. The whole tavern seemed to be swallowed by a growing tension, the air thick with the anticipation of a confrontation.

“Room,” Law uttered, and a blue bubble enveloped the tavern. The charging pirates were frozen in their tracks as Law unsheathed Kikoku in a blur of motion. With a quick and precise slash through the air, the pirate and his crew were cut right in half. Their halves pathetically fell to the floor, leaving the once chaotic tavern in a stunned silence.

The Heart Pirates were the first to break the quiet, erupting into cheers and applause for their captain. Law smirked at the defeated pirates sprawled before him, a victorious glint in his eyes. Without missing a beat, he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you away from the bar and toward the exit of the tavern.

“Come on, let's get out of here,” he said, leading the way back towards the Polar Tang, the rest of the crew in tow. The tense atmosphere dissipated with each step, replaced by the comforting sounds of the cheering Heart Pirates, celebrating their captain's quick and decisive action.

You both made it back to the submarine, and Law dragged you into his quarters, lightly slamming the door behind him. He released your arm but kept his gaze fixed on you, a hint of irritation evident in his eyes. "Care to explain what happened back there?"

You tried to defend yourself, stammering, "I tried to tell him that I won’t join him, but I—"

"Tried? I didn’t see much trying, only a failure to say no like you always do," he cut you off abruptly, his tone stern. "You're going to get yourself killed one day, I swear," he added with a deep sigh.

You looked down in embarrassment, your voice lowering as you responded, "...I know. I’m sorry." The weight of his concern sank in, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of regret and gratitude for his protective demeanor.

"Saying sorry doesn’t mean anything if you don’t do anything to fix it," he responded harshly. The weight of his words pressed upon you, and he noticed your embarrassment. Sighing, he seemed to calm himself. Walking over, he placed both hands on your shoulders. When you looked up at him, his tone softened, "Look, I’m just worried for you. I don’t want to see you wind up on some other asshole’s ship all because you can't say no. Do you get that?"

You nodded, and he offered a small smile. "Good. Now, I need you to promise me that you will grow a spine and start saying no. You can even start with me if it will help you. Okay?" he suggested, his concern evident in his gaze.

You looked into his steely grey eyes, filled with genuine worry for you, and offered your pinky to him. “I can promise to try?” you offered with a sheepish smile, hoping he would accept.

He looked at your pinky and rolled his eyes slightly, but took one of his hands off your shoulder, interlocking his pinky with your own. “I’ll take what I can get,” he responded. “Now, let’s talk about how you almost just ran off with that creep and his crew,” he teased you, a smirk growing on his face.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to almost run off with them,” you retorted sheepishly.

“Ahuh, okay. Now run that whole conversation from the top to me,” he responded, practically taunting you. You rolled your eyes at him as you began to replay the interaction, reliving your embarrassment in the retelling for him, internally telling yourself that you would grow a spine so that you would never have to be teased like this again.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #one piece fluff #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw

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ifimdreaming · 1 year

Text

Can we go now?

Luke Hughes x Reader || angst, some fluff

summary: Luke brings you to a dinner party filled with misogynistic men and bad booze, and feels really bad about.

author’s note: this is very rushed but i hope you enjoy it anyway! love you

word count: 1.0k

“how much longer lukey?..” you grab onto his arm and lean into him, quietly asking into his ear. “I know… i'm sorry, it’s only been a couple hours babe..but we can leave if you really need” He replies kindly, knowing how much you both hate dinner parties like this.

It wasn’t often that your boyfriend invited you to these events so you just nod in response, knowing he needs to be here for work and, also, not wanting to be the one to make him leave early.

Normally it isn’t too terrible, and there are moments for you two to sneak away from crowds and quietly sit together at a table and just enjoy the night. But tonight was different, it was non stop talking and mingling, Luke trying to be as professional as possible around borderline rude men making bad jokes and slightly misogynistic comments, not caring that you are standing right there.

And for the most part you were doing your best fake smiles and laughs, but the comments just kept getting worse and worse as the conversations progressed.

After having dinner and moving outside for watered down cocktails, you go to refill your drink, needing an escape, and leaving Luke with a group of mostly strangers for a moment. Looking over at him from the bar, you can just tell from his face that he is getting tired and probably more and more irritable as the time passes.

A moment later you feel a small brush against your back as you’re sitting at the bar and a hand rests against your thigh. “Ok i’ll have a drink and then we’re out of here” Luke sighs out as he takes a seat beside you. He rests his head in his hand, closing his eyes for a moment and you reach up to comb your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“Ok…just please promise me you won’t get sucked into another endless conversation about the playoffs again?”

“trust me, i wanted out of that conversation just as much as you did” he retorts back defeatedly. You both knew your moods were worsening when you started to get nippy and sarcastic with each other.

You sit in silence for a moment while Luke is finishing his drink and you start to swirl the ice in your empty glass, needing to finish your drink even if it was the worst cocktail you’ve ever had in your life.

“Im really sorry i dragged you here, i just hate coming to these things…thought it would be at least a little more bearable with you around…” he looks down, “i didn't know it would be this…shitty” he begins to rub his thumb over your thigh slowly and you can tell by his tone that he truly feels bad about tonight and how everyone was treating you, knowing there are so many other things you two would rather be doing on a friday night.

“luke im just thankful we get to spend time together tonight” you start, “i'm glad you asked me to come with you” you say reassuringly.

You look up at him with a small smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips, he leans in and brings a hand up to your face, cupping your jaw. You pull away and press a few soft kisses on his cheek, making him crack his first smile all night.

Just as Luke finishes his drink, you see two men walking towards the both of you sitting at the bar and you nudge Luke’s arm to warn him, not wanting to get trapped in conversation again.

Luke quickly swivels on his seat and goes to stand up, grabbing your arm to help you down from your stool. He places some cash on the bar beside your empty glasses and you start towards the door, opposite the people walking your way.

“Luke Hughes! If it isn’t the newest new jersey devil!” a man in a dark grey suit and receding hairline creeps up behind Luke, “How bout’ we have a drink outside!” he says almost demandingly.

“Sorry we’re actually heading out-” you try to interrupt, getting tired of staying quiet all night. “Oh it will just be a minute” the man insists as he steps forward placing a hand on Luke’s back to nudge him towards the patio outside where more people were. This causes your hand to disconnect from Luke’s as the man begins speaking to Luke, completely ignoring you.

“Actually she said we’re leaving” Luke defends, grabbing your hand and moving past the man.

“Nice meeting you” he says sarcastically as we start to walk away and you swear you hear the man cursing under his breath at you as Luke pulls you by the hand, angrily marching towards the exit.

“yeah this fucking sucked. no one’s treating you like that ever again.” he says as you make your way to the parking garage. “hey ..lukey…” you say and he turns around to face you as you’re both standing by the passenger side of his car “i'm so sorry about them” he says and crashes his lips on yours, his hands on both sides of your hips as he walks backwards, your back leaning on the side of his car as he makes out with you.

You reach your hand up and run it along his chest and he leans down to place kisses across your neck. He places his hands on either side of your face and looks at you, “promise ill m-make it up to you..” he says remorsefully, hoping this night hasn’t upset you too much.

“-Baby! Its ok! Its not your fault” you reassure through giggles and his eyebrows relax after seeing that your mood has lifted.

“Honestly i’m just glad we’re finally leaving” his hands are still on your face and you grab his wrists, bringing them down, “Can we go now?” you say smiling at your sweet boyfriend as he looks back at you with loving eyes.

“Of course”

#luke hughes #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes reclist #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes angst #nhl #hockey imagine #hockey boys #hockey blurb #hockey x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils imagine #nj devils #ifimdreamingwrites

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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 6 months

Text

Obey me! Lucifer nsfw drabble

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Sorry I haven't posted in a bit! My lifes got a little hectic but i have lots of ideas coming! Im still working on the twins reactions to Mc & the strange noise, but I felt bad for not posting. Remember the characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor spelling, bad grammar or terrible jokes! So without further ado enjoy my Lucifer nsfw drabble!

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Some people think Lucifer won't sub or wouldn't like subbing but i think if he respected the person or thought the person was higher ranked, had more authority then him, i think he'd take pride in subbing for them. On his knees servicing someone he respects so highly, the pride he feels when someone with higher authority praises him, hearing those praises so lewd, makes it even better. Knowing how powerful and respected the individual is, knowing the individual could have anyone, but they keep choosing him? Hes the only one who makes them feel this good who gets to hear such lewd praises? Lucifer's pride is soaring through the roof. Humiliating words don't even flatten his pride. No not when hes so pridefully pleasing an individual he basically considers master. Lucifer takes pride in "being his own master" but this fool is a right hand man at heart. Hes a pleaser he likes someone in power keeping him in check and directing him if need be. He likes someone who knows they have the power but is more than willing to let Lucifer and his pride seem like he's in charge. But when he's alone with his S/O he likes not having to be in control sometimes. Boss him around use him as you feel fit. He is you're toy, you're dog to command around, and the Avatar of Pride takes pride in being commanded by you. Also this poor man works his ass off dude. Hes always in charge hes always keeping things calm and collected and dealing/caring for others. You can't tell me he wouldn't like to be cared for everynow and then. Everyone says his pride gets in the way of letting someone take care of him and in some situations i agree. In front of others no its not allowed he has to seem in charge, but babying Lucifer in the priviate of his office or room? The man is a puddle in you're hands. How long has it been since someone cared for him? Let alone babied and treated him so delicately? Acting so gently like he was the most important thing in their lives? Lucifer is so offput that his pride can be damned, he never knew being cared for could be so great he felt so loved. Lucifer's sin doesn't just happen for himself, Lucifer takes pride in his partner. So much pride and love for his partner, that when his partner loves and cares for him, Lucifer feels pride in the fact that he's the one their with, hes the one their caring for, hes the one their in love with. His partner is probably one of the things he has the most pride in. Vanurable moments with Lucifer are special, don't speak of them outside of his room or office or he may never let you have a moment like that with him again. Lucifer has a reputation to upkeep but for you, his lover, his master, his human, he will happily let you see the othersides of him, in private ofc.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! This is the first time I've written something like this so let me know if you enjoyed this!!! Ill try and get more post out soon! I promise more content is coming, thank you for you're patience!! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby! ‹𝟹

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

#obey me drabble #obey me thoughts #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer x reader #om lucifer #lucifer x mc #om lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me smut #om smut #obey me lemon #obey me nsft #not proofread #obey me lucifer smut

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yeonjuns-beanie · 8 months

Text

Party Monster

warnings: 18+, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, sex on someone else’s bed, marking, voyeurism, jealous dalton

summary: you convince dalton to go to a halloween frat party with you. after concluding that the party was nothing you thought it would be, you guys decide to make more of your experience.

a/n: im so sorry for this taking so long, life got in the way and i was suffering from such terrible writer’s block. i hope i did your ask justice! i may be a little slower when it comes to requests n stuff now due to uni starting up and me working on another fic atm. anyways, i hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! ~nero

word count: 6.8k

dalton lambert x female reader

“You have got to be kidding me?”

Dropping your shoulders in defeat, you looked up at the ceiling before stomping over to Dalton similar to that of a three year old. Grabbing his hands, it urged him to look up at you, only to be met with a pout that you knew was his weak spot.

“C’mooon. I think it would be fun! At the very least, we can people watch and make fun of the morons there.”

“Oh, and be just as bad as them?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, knowing Dalton was getting a kick out of using your words against yourself.

“Besides, I can’t imagine Nick would want to see me anymore this semester.”

That was your in. That’s how you can get him to go.

“Okay, but it’s a costume party. We can put you in makeup or you could wear a stupid mask or something and they literally won’t know that it’s you. Pleaseee, Dalton. I think it would be fun.”

It was Dalton’s turn to sigh now. He had already given in when you asked in the first place he just enjoyed giving you a hard time. He liked knowing you wanted him. It filled him with that warm fuzzy feeling that had him battling cuteness aggression every waking second, but also had him warding off feelings that were much more indecorous.

“Fine, we can go. But what are we gonna be?”

Squealing in excitement, you ripped your hands out of his and brought them up to cup his face, placing multiple kisses on his lips. Pulling away you thanked him profusely, needing to express not only your excitement but your gratitude for him tagging along with you.

“I’m glad you asked. I was hoping you’d be okay with Tiff and Chucky?”

Dalton didn’t say anything he just looked at you. A look that was hard to discern. You couldn’t tell if he hated the idea or was thinking of something else. Dalton was quick to ease your mind as he finally spoke.

“You mean, that asshole gets to look at you looking all sexy?”

Your brows furrowed, “What asshole?”

“Nick.”

“Ohhh.”

Moving away from in front of Dalton, you flopped on his bed next to him, your arms starfishing across the mattress. You smiled to yourself trying to lessen it by rolling your lips around your teeth. Taking the hand closest to Dalton, you raised it up and ghosted slowly over his back.

“Well, it’s not like Nick gets to touch me. He can only look.”

Dalton rolled his head dramatically to look down at you, trying his damnedest not to give in to your antics. Looking down at you though, he could never hold his moue for as long as he wanted to. All of his other emotions of lovesick admiration overshadowed his feigned annoyance.

“Not like it makes it any better.”

Sighing, you sat up on the bed and moved to straddle Dalton. Cupping his face, you held eye contact with him that was so intense it would probably make any other person crumble. With Dalton though, you could see the hearts forming in his eyes as you stared him down. A softer, more pouty version of possession swimming in his irises.

“You know I only want you right? No amount of staring, flirting, or whatever could take me away from you.”

You didn’t give him a moment to respond, flushing your lips against his in a kiss that was nearing the edge of searing. You found it endearing how small flashes of his possessiveness would flare up at the mere thought of someone else taking you in. It made you feel wanted and it lit a fire in you every time it happened. His jealousy was silent, brooding, and somewhat submissive but always present.

Dalton’s hands roamed the sides of your body as he melted into your kiss. Soaking up every bit of you any chance he got. As the kiss became more heated, your hands wandered down to his collarbone slowly snaking their way to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers in his sandy brown locks. Dalton’s hands landed on the rough fabric of your pants, finding enough play in the material to knead the plush fat of your ass.

Puppeteering your body in his hands, he rolled your hips against his and you could feel the small tent forming in his pants. Pulling a small muffled moan from you, you pulled away in an attempt to catch your breath as well as to cool down the now sexually charged atmosphere. Dalton peered up at you, eyes blown.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Cause we have to go shopping for our costumes and if we don’t stop now we won’t stop.”

Standing up from his lap, you began to walk over toward your bag to signal your urgency to leave. But before you could take a full step forward, Dalton wrapped his fingers gingerly around your wrist and pulled you back toward him.

“What if I don’t wanna stop?”

“Daltonnn.”

He was staring at you so smugly. You knew what he was doing and you knew you had to be stronger this one time. You couldn’t give in or you definitely weren’t leaving his dorm for the rest of the day.

“C’mon baby, we can finish what we started when we get back. But the party is tomorrow and I don’t want us to have to get all our shit tomorrow.”

Dramatically groaning, Dalton lifted himself to his feet and waited for your cue to leave. Grabbing your bag, you turned around to look up at him. A made up tune forming with your words.

“Love youuu.”

Dalton hummed and rolled his eyes, kissing your forehead in response. Grabbing his hand, you guys left his dorm and you pulled out your phone to order an Uber to the nearest Halloween store. Walking towards one of the main parking lots on campus, you placed your pick up spot and waited.

With only a few minutes passing by, the car pulled up and the two of you climbed into the backseat. Buckling yourself in, Dalton’s hand quickly found purchase on your lower thigh rubbing gently on the inner side of it.

The ride to the Halloween store was short which you were thankful for because you weren’t sure how much longer you could ignore Dalton’s hands on you. Thanking the driver, you got out of the car a sudden rush of excitement coursing through you as you looked at the building in front of you. You had many pleasures in life but one of the ones that you cherished the most was the popup Halloween shops. The joy you had centered around Halloween never failed to make you feel like a kid all over again and you wished you could feel this way for more than just the first half of the fall season.

Walking into the store, you almost forgot Dalton was tailing behind you as your excitement dragged you through the store wanting to browse through all the new items that were featured in this year’s lineup. Noticing the Halloween section, you saw a sweatshirt that you simply couldn’t ignore. There were homages to the movie adorning the sleeves and the front and back of the sweatshirt.

“This is so cool!”

Dalton came up behind you, taking the sweatshirt into his own hands.

“Yeah, it is.”

Trailing down the sleeve of the pullover you found the pricetag and hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t that it was too expensive, you just decided you would come back and get it after you got paid because you knew you needed more than a few things for your matching costumes first. Walking away you motioned for Dalton to follow you to the section you needed, but what you didn’t see was Dalton grabbing the sweatshirt as you turned around, his own plan in motion.

As you guys circled the store one last time, you decided that you had everything and made your way to the checkout. You went up first laying out all your items and Dalton was called up to the other cashier. Getting your bag full of items, you walked over to Dalton and he was grinning at you as you guys walked out of the store. You didn’t realize how much time you guys spent in there until you were met with the colors of dusk painting the sky. Focusing your attention on Dalton again you cocked your head.

“What is it?”

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the top half of the Halloween pullover you were looking at. Your eyes widened a delighted shock not expecting that to be the reason behind his grin.

“Dalton! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

“I was gonna come back and get it next week.”

“Well, what if they don’t have it next week? Now, you’ll for sure have it.”

You stepped closer to hug him, thanking him as you nestled into his frame. Pulling away from him, Dalton motioned over to one of the food joints in the shopping center that you were in and you both decided that you should grab something before you headed back to campus. As you guys were waiting for your food, you ordered another Uber so that by the time your food would be ready, you’d be able to get in the car relatively immediately.

Your timing was impeccable because right as you guys walked out, your ride pulled up right out front. Laying your bags in the backseat first, you and Dalton filed in after making sure to hold everything in your laps. Getting back to campus, you suddenly felt a wave of tiredness wipe over your body. Dropping your bags by the door, you set the bag of food on the small table in the back of his dorm. You guys ate in a comfortable silence and you relished in the domestic nature you were sharing.

Wiping your hands off with a napkin, you threw your empty container back in the plastic bag and leaned back in your chair. Dalton mimicked your movements and a small smile crossed his face as he looked over at you warmly.

“Wanna just sleep here tonight? You look pretty tired.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded contently.

“Can I wear one of your shirts?”

“Course you can.”

Helping yourself to one of his drawers, you found one of his oversized shirts and changed. Leaving your clothes in a pile on the other bed in the room. Climbing into his bed, you made yourself more than comfortable in his space, wrapping yourself in his blankets. Bending your head to look back at him, you were met with a soft closed mouth smile.

“I’m coming.”

Nodding, you slowly let sleep blanket itself over your eyes and body and drifted away to a place of peace. If only you knew the reason why he didn’t immediately follow behind you was just so he could admire your soft form as you slept. So that he could keep the mental image of his forever ingrained in his mind. Somehow, his body reacted before his mind and he found himself sketching the image in front of him. Believing that the only way he could truly savor the moment in front of him was to immortalize it with charcoal and a piece of paper.

~*~

As you woke up the next morning, the sun that peeked through the window was a little warmer than usual signaling to you that you most definitely slept in and missed your class. As your sleep ridden body moved to wake up a little further, your face nudged against Dalton’s body. Your moving around rustled Dalton out of his sleep and as he slowly blinked his eyes open he muttered a small morning and rolled back onto his side. You chuckled to yourself,

“I'm almost positive it's past noon, but yeah good morning.”

Worming around Dalton’s body, you crawled out of bed and walked over to the table to swipe through all of your notifications on your phone. Seeing the time, you surely had enough time to make it to your next class, but you awarded yourself the liberty of skipping. Your justification was that you hadn’t missed one class this semester so one day wouldn’t kill you.

As you put your phone down, you noticed the sketch laying idly on the desk. Taking a closer look at it, you realized it was of you. A soft expression displayed across your face as something warm and similar to muffled elation glowed in your chest. Dalton pushed himself up from the bed yawning and not yet realizing that you had seen the drawing. Walking over to Dalton you gave him a quick hug and announced your leave, grabbing all your things before you headed to the door.

You wanted to give yourself enough time to get ready and not feel rushed, knowing that every time you got ready you never really stayed on track. Catching strays from time blindness, breaking out in song and dance, and the irresistible urge to just lay down in your bed midway through. Walking through the halls of Dalton’s dorm, you made your way across to the other dorm building, taking the elevator up to your floor.

Making your way into your room, you immediately flopped on the bed, mentally taking note that you’d start getting ready in half an hour. Scrolling on your phone, you blinked those 30 minutes away, groaning as you forced yourself to start your routine. Every time you got ready to go out somewhere, you always wondered if you actually enjoyed the whole ordeal. You always came to the same conclusion, you did, you just hated the process.

From the attention you garnered from whatever outfit you conjured up, to deciding what asset of your body you’d accentuate or the makeup you decided to do, you’d be lying to say you didn’t enjoy it all.

Hours ticked by and the sun began to tuck its bright body behind the mountains as you added the finishing touches to your makeup. Dotting a beauty mark above your lip, you glance over your face feeling more than satisfied with the outcome. Digging through the plastic bag, you pulled out all the items you got the night before. Pulling your fishnets over your plush thighs, you admired your curves staring back at you on the mirror you had hanging off your door.

Grabbing the white tutu, you shimmied it over your hips and you felt a certain wave of excitement flood through you as you wrapped your body in the white corset. You fixed your boobs so that they were bordering on spilling out of the top, and cinched the waistline as much as you could so that it still snatched your waist but allowed you the freedom to breathe.

You were pulled out of the trance of admiring yourself as you heard your phone vibrating on your bed. You had a few messages from Dalton, the last one asking if you could help him with his hair. Responding to him, you slipped into your platform Doc Martens and threw all of your essentials for the night in a small clutch that you knew you wouldn’t lose. Shutting off the light in your room you made the short walk over to Dalton’s building, basking in all of the eyes that were ogling your form. There were a few low whistles and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Knocking on Dalton’s door, you were staring at the floor when the door opened. As his eyes landed on you, they widened and quickly he attempted to rest them trying to contain his thoughts. Looking up as the door opened you smiled at him, excited to see him in his costume and his makeup mostly done. Walking into the room, you set your stuff down on his bed.

“So what did you need help with?”

Dalton didn’t say anything, but the shaking of the colored hairspray can made you turn around.

“I didn’t think I could make it even if I did it myself.”

You motioned toward the desk so he could sit down and you could help him with his hair. Taking fairly large pieces, you sprayed the color a little further than normal so that the color wouldn’t crunch and cake around his strands of hair. You got a little closer with color when you sprayed his roots framing his face. Feeling complete with your job, you now settled for dramatics just spraying randomly and not really on his hair just more in the air.

“Viola!”

Dalton stood up and seeing him in his full attire was doing something to your brain. The bloodied stitches on his face, the ragged nest you turned his hair into, and the bloody knife he had curled in his fingertips. Albeit, plastic and very much fake, all of the details were unlocking something in your brain that you didn’t pay much attention to until this very moment. His voice pulled you from your thoughts before they got too detailed in the lewd direction they were going.

“Do I look ok-hey I know that look.”

You shook your head so lightly that it could’ve been mistaken as a twitch but Dalton knew better.

“I take it you like it then?”

He walked over toward you, wrapping his hands around your waist to bring you closer. With the loss of space between you two, it was hard to move your gaze anywhere else but him. Feeling stuck under his gaze, the smugness on his features was becoming grossly aware to you and you opted to push him away dramatically, not ready to admit your truths to him.

“C’mon, we should get going anyway. I don’t want it to be too crazy when we get there.”

Grabbing your bag and his hand, you headed way for the door and made your way out of the building. With the sun now gone and night fully taking over the sky, the slight chill of the October air made itself very known to you thanks to your lack of clothing. As you neared the frat house, you could feel the bass of the music almost rattle the earth beneath your feet. There was a slew of people out of the front lawn, people congregating on the front balcony of the house, and some poor bastard was hunched over in a set of bushes meeting his demise quite early in the night.

As you and Dalton reached the front lawn, a frat member was holding a tray of what looked like jello shots.

“Care for a brain?”

You glanced at the small plastic cup and were genuinely surprised to see such effort put into a jello shot. Let alone for it to have been made by a bunch of meathead college bros. Not even thinking twice, you grabbed a shot and tongued the jello out of the cup making an obnoxiously loud slurp when it fully separated from the plastic and plopped in your mouth.

What you didn’t notice was the jaundiced glare your boyfriend was giving the frat member as the boy frantically switched between your tits which were on the verge of spilling out and the way you were tonguing the shot. Putting the cup back on the tray, you looked at the boy through your lashes silently telling him that you knew exactly what you were doing and there was nothing he could act on because your boyfriend was hanging off your arm.

Looking back to Dalton, you motioned for him to grab a shot as well.

“Make sure you grab one, babe. Might be the only thing we get our hands on.”

Dalton softened his gaze at the sound of your voice but still, he didn’t drop his focus off the frat boy. Picking up the plastic, he began to take a step forward, but you nailed yourself in place still stuck on the boy. Your voice was dripping in satin lust, wanting to sweeten up the boy and rile up Dalton to get him right where you wanted him.

“Mind if I take another one?”

This time the boy gave you a very animated nod as his gaze flickered behind you in the direction of Dalton. Turning around, you saw nothing out of the ordinary so you picked up another cup and squeezed the boy on his bicep.

“Thank you…?” you paused, waiting for him to give you his name.

“...Chase!”

“Thank you, Chase.”

Now Dalton was pulling you toward the entrance of the house, wanting to be anywhere else than where Chase was. He knew people would look at you, how could they not? You were strikingly beautiful and of course, you looked even more tantalizing when you had yourself done up with makeup and an outfit that would leave anyone speechless. The problem lied with Dalton not being able to fight that feeling in his chest when he was watching someone else take you in for only a fraction of what you were worth to him. They didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way.

As you reached the stairs of the house, you halted your body again to stop Dalton in his tracks. When his arm jolted back with you only then did he turn around and you saw all the emotions swarming his mind and face. Pulling him closer to you, you brought his hand up that was still holding the small plastic cup.

“Take it, might ease your nerves for a little bit.”

Punctuating your words with a feather light kiss on his lips, you watched his shoulders relax as he took a deep breath and brought the cup to his mouth, tonguing the jello out the same way you did. As you watched him you felt a familiar pang of need squeeze between your thighs but you quickly ignored it, not wanting to leave so soon. Dalton scrunched his face at the taste of the alcohol and tossed the cup somewhere in the grass. Frowning he looked at you.

“How did you drink that so easily, tasted like straight acid!”

Looking down at the second cup you grabbed you thought he was being dramatic. This time as you removed the jello from the cup, you kept your eyes on Dalton the whole time. Your eyes holding a vampish intent. Tossing the cup in the same direction once you emptied it, your eyes blew wide in surprise as you swallowed.

“The first one did not taste like that, what the fuck?”

You coughed, trying to get the harsh taste out of your mouth. Looking toward the front door, you realized there was probably some type of punch inside that would drown on the existing taste.

“Let’s go in.”

When you and Dalton pushed through the corridor of the house the music rattled your chest, there were lights strung up on every possible place. Little ghosts and pumpkins lighting up the room with an ambient orange color. As you pushed through the people you found the kitchen and a massive tub full of red liquid and various fruits. A stack of red solos was next to it and you poured both you and Dalton a glass, filling yours to the brim while his still had a little room.

Guzzling down half of your cup, you refilled a bit more before you motioned for you and Dalton to move to the main room where it was a pile of bodies moving against each other in tandem with the music that was bouncing off the walls. Dalton was slowly sipping away at his drink while you downed another half of your drink finally feeling the combinations of alcohols course through your system.

You moved closer to Dalton so now your bodies were right on top of each other and you moved to the varying beats. The more you moved, the closer you got to grinding on him, and the more prominent the pool in your underwear was getting harder to ignore.

You wrapped one arm around his neck, bringing his head down to meet your forehead and your lips ghosted one another’s causing your breathing to get a little heavier with want. Dalton pulled away from you and yelled out over the music.

“I’m gonna go refill!”

Nodding, you took his wrist as one was holding the cup and the other was occupied by his prop knife. Reaching the kitchen again, you left your cup on the counter leaving the remaining contents in it up for grabs for whoever wanted it. With each step you took back to the kitchen you felt yourself straying further from your inhibitions and becoming more acquainted with your bodily desires.

As Dalton filled his cup up halfway, you clung your body to his from behind. Wrapping your hands around his waist, you let one of them ghost over the front of his overalls, your hand sliding right across his dick. You felt Dalton stiffen up at the action and you would’ve continued but a whistle from behind you caught your attention.

Standing up straight, you turned around and your eyes met Nick’s in a half assed Dracula costume. With his plastic party fangs dangling off his index finger you realized he was the one that cat called you over the music. In your drunken daze, you failed to realize the way you were hanging off of Dalton gave anyone behind you a perfect view of your fishnet clad ass peeking out from your tutu. You felt Dalton straighten up behind you, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You couldn’t help the way your face moved when you were drunk. It was involuntarily submissive. Your eyebrows constantly furrowed upwards, your eyes were always wide trying to hide how inebriated you were, and your lips were always slightly parted. When Nick approached you two, you gazed at him in a way that any sober person would confuse for interest.

“You’re a pretty little doll, aren’t ya?”

You felt Dalton’s hand tighten on your waist as if you were gonna run away from him. You tried to pretend like you weren’t as drunk as you were but your body outran your mind. Within seconds you were overly smiley with Nick, responding probably too excitedly for Dalton.

“You think so?! I thought I made a very pretty doll too. But! I wouldn’t be such a pretty doll if it weren’t for my Chucky.”

You turned your body almost posing for Nick and his friends as you placed your hands flat on Dalton’s chest and looked behind you. Your eyelids grew heavy with want while you flaunted you and your boyfriend off. Turning back to face them you pointed to your chest, putting a spotlight on the fake ‘Chucky’ tattoo you drew hours before.

“See, I’ve got his name on me forever too!”

Nick and his friends erupted into a fit of giggles at your drunken displays of affection but Dalton was not enjoying a single second of it. Wondering if you were doing this on purpose or if it really was just you having lost all sober obligations. Dalton again put his hand on your hip and squeezed your side trying to discreetly get your attention. Whipping your head back in his direction his plans were foiled.

“What is it, baby?”

Dalton awkwardly laughed and shook his head saying that it was nothing. But the quick flash of attention on him allowed Nick to recognize who your “Chucky” actually was.

“How did you get in here again dude?”

For the first time in this entire interaction, Dalton finally piped up.

“It’s not like you have a bouncer at the front door.”

“Maybe I should if it means your weird ass is gonna keep coming around.”

Shaking your head, you started waving your hands in the air to get the two men's attention off of each other. Stepping closer to Nick so you wouldn’t have to yell anymore, you smiled as you spoke.

“I promise, no weird shit tonight! He honestly didn’t even wanna come, but I made him tag along with me.”

Stepping back toward Dalton, Nick snuffed extra air through his nose, and a tight lipped smile spreading across his lips, he spoke again his attention focused on you.

“At least you’re prettier than his last one. Don’t know if I could stand looking at two clowns again. Even if it would be fitting for tonight.”

Again a chorus of almost robotic giggles came from his surrounding friends and suddenly your good mood was bruised by his insult.

“Have fun tonight then, the both of you. Especially you, dollface.”

Nick ended his words by taking his thumb and index finger to raise your face to look up at his before he walked away. A scowl took place of his previous smile as he leveled out his gaze to be face to face with Dalton. As Nick and his friends disappeared into the crowd you turned around to Dalton suddenly feeling kind of gross after Nick touched you. The lasting bit of the interaction sobered up your mind just enough to where you could feel the change in Dalton’s energy.

Dalton quickly chugged the rest of what was in his cup, needing a little more liquid courage to power him through what he was about to do. Setting the empty cup on the counter, you placed your hands on his shoulders trying to not only stable yourself but also to get a gauge on his vibe. When Dalton finally looked at you, you could tell he was pissed. So when he grabbed your hand and began dragging you through the crowds of people you assumed it was because he wanted to leave. But when he took you to the staircase your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

You were met with silence. And as fast as Dalton was moving through the house, you were close to tripping over your own feet. When you reached the top of the staircase, Dalton made a beeline to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Opening the door, he left it wide open as he pulled you inside mumbling to himself.

“Can’t believe he touched you.”

Looking around at the walls you realized you were in Nick’s bedroom.

“What?... Dalton, why are we in Nick’s room?”

You waddled over to Dalton wrapping your arms around him. Beginning to speak, he cut you off as he gently brought his hand under your chin, your eyes being hypnotized by his own.

“Baby, why are we-

“-We’re in his room because I want him to think about this every time he lays his head down.”

Before you had a chance to question what he meant, Dalton had rushed his lips onto yours, suffocating you with his need. Surprised by his sudden movement, you grabbed onto him, your hands docking on either side of his face deepening the kiss.

Dalton walked your bodies backward so that your knees would buckle once they hit the edge of Nick’s bed. As your body fumbled onto the mattress, Dalton leaned you back caging you underneath him. You moved your body backwards to the center of the bed and Dalton followed your lead. He broke your kiss only to start a lecherous assault on your neck. Letting your head roll back, you leaned into the feeling of his lips on your body.

Every time his lips left your skin, they left a raging fire in its wake that sent rapid signals to your core. Reminding you, that your feelings were being wildly amplified by the amount of alcohol rushing through your system. You didn’t have the capacity to control the moans that were evading your mouth you were just completely soaked in the feeling of Dalton. As Dalton trailed his body down to the valley of your breasts, he slowly unhooked each latch of your corset watching how your soft, plush skin escaped the confines of the fabric. His hand drew a line down from your collarbone to your sternum before tracing a path around your tit, slowly teasing around the sensitive skin. Before you had the chance to whine about the lack of feeling, his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple while his mouth encased the other one.

Rolling your hips up to his, you felt his hardened cock brush against your clothed heat. Your breathing escalated, the adrenaline of the brewing carnality becoming more apparent to you as you lost yourself in the feeling. Your hand webbed itself in Dalton’s hair feeling the tackiness of the hairspray stick itself to your fingers. Dalton popped off your nipple, a string of spit following his mouth leaving a brisk chill on your skin as the string broke and settled onto your skin.

He placed kisses along your chest but they slowly turned into bites and the closer Dalton got to your neck, the more the bites turned into hickeys. Bright red markings identifying you as undoubtedly his.

“Dalton, I need you.”

Dalton pulled away from you to take in your lust stricken form, admiring you in such an obscene way. As your eyes found his, you could make out how dilated his pupils were even in the low light of the bedroom. Leaning up to kiss him, your hands traveled to the buckles of his overalls unhooking them with ease as you slid the rest of the fabric down as much as you could.

You grabbed the bunch of fabric and used it to pull him closer to you so that you could feel some type of friction from his bulge that was being hidden. Breaking the kiss, you needed to vocalize your need for him because he wasn’t moving fast enough for you.

“Baby, please. I-

“You think he knows how to fuck you like I do?”

In your coveted daze, you didn’t register who ‘he’ was right away. If anything you had forgotten about Nick and your interaction with him entirely once he walked away from you two. Your lack of response drove Dalton to become impatient, allowing himself to be overcome by his jealousy.

“Flirting with him like that. You think he could make you feel as good as I do?”

Dalton was dry humping you, making it all the more difficult to form a coherent response for him as you were being influenced by your own lubricity.

“I-I wasn’t fl-flirting with him, I swear!”

“Sure, you flashing him this tattoo on your tit wasn’t flirting.”

You were tripping over your own words, unable to form a believable excuse. You didn’t want to give up the fact that maybe, everything you did tonight was on purpose. To have Dalton rough you up a bit and make you feel small with his need for you. His voice ripped you from your thoughts letting new ones take place.

“And you did it in front of me, little slut. You knew it’d get me like this, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t bare the waiting or interrogation any longer. You need him to touch you. You needed to feel him on you, inside of you, you just needed him. So you confessed.

“Yes! I did, I did. I just wanted you to remind me that I’m yours. I need you so bad.”

Dalton let his overalls slide down to his mid thigh and he removed his underwear just enough so that his rosy tipped cock could spring free. Your cunt fluttered around nothing as your eyes landed on it, fantasizing already about the feeling. Dalton snaked his finger down to your slit, swiping up to graze across your clit and your body shuddered at the feeling. Squeezing around nothing yet again.

“You’re soaked, baby. Getting off on me being mean, yeah?”

“Fuckk! Yes. Please, I need you inside of me Dalton. Only you.”

You were so horny that you were about to start grinding against the air to just imagine something subsiding your wanton ache between your legs. Maybe it was the begging, maybe it was the mental connection you shared with him but suddenly, Dalton grabbed your legs and dragged you to the edge of bed. His fingers tangled themselves in your fishnets ripping a hole right at your crotch. Pulling your panties to the side he teased his cock at your entrance.

“You want it?”

“So fucking bad, baby.”

Out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he slowly slid himself into your hot, seductive cunt. The stretch of his cock was sapid and had you rolling into his hips trying to fuck yourself on him discreetly. Your back was arched and your nails were digging into the sheets so tightly that you thought you heard a rip. When Dalton bottomed out inside of you your moans were at full volume, most certainly echoing off the walls of the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care seeing as the music downstairs was so loud. Dalton set a pace that was feral and unrelenting, your pussy clenching erratically as the tip of his cock abused that soft rigid spot inside of you.

As your moans grew in frequency, Dalton leaned down into your neck sucking more hickeys into your skin that wasn’t already tainted. Your hands left the bed and opted to curl your fingers into Dalton’s shoulder, his shirt protecting him from the crescent moons your nails would’ve left. He could feel that you were arriving at the peak of your arousal, picking up his speed, you two were torn from each other as a voice bellowed into the room.

“What the fuck!”

Dalton didn’t stop moving, but when your eyes landed on Nick standing in the doorway of his bedroom you couldn’t stop your body from the overwhelming rapture it felt as you jumped headfirst into ecstasy. Your body was twitching in ardor, your saintly cunt squeezing around Dalton as your eyes flickered between the two men. Dalton turned around to Nick, a sense of dominance that you’d never felt from him before dripping from his tongue.

“Thought you’d want to see your doll laid out on your bed–what’s wrong? Wish it was you instead?”

Dalton cracked a smile that was so dissolute and prurient that it removed you from all resolve to retain any form of modesty. Your cunt begging for more. Your hand reached up grabbing at Dalton’s shirt and you whined out for him, making a spectacle for Nick.

“Fuck me again. Please please, Dalton. I need it, I need to feel you cum inside of me. Paint me as yours.”

Dalton smiled at you as he felt your walls fluttered around him as you begged.

“Yeah? You like him watching me ruin you?”

You nodded frantically too fucked out to form anything clearly besides a needy ‘please’. Dalton began fucking you again and as you looked down to watch his cock rush in and out of you, your head fell back into the bed. Opening your eyes, you glanced over at Nick who was still frozen in the doorway. You raised your hand to wave goodbye to him with just your fingers, but before the sentiment could be registered, Dalton pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees.

“Stop entertaining him. One cock not good enough for you?”

His hand found purchase on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the comforter your lipstick definitely staining the fabric. Dalton continued to piston out of you, but as his thrusts became more unsteady you knew his climax was near. You couldn’t see but Dalton turned around again to see Nick walking back into the hallway and as soon as he was out of his sight you felt his hot seed flood your walls.

As Dalton pulled out of you, he rolled your body over onto your back so that he could engulf you in a searing kiss. He slid your panties back over to cover you fully and allowed you to sit up so that you could stuff yourself back into the corset. Fixing himself into his clothes he kissed the top of your head.

“Now when he sees us walk out, you’ll still have me inside of you.”

You felt a different heat rush up to your face that wasn’t from the alcohol. You sighed and when you looked up Dalton had his hand out for you.

“Let’s go home?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

Following behind Dalton, you let him lead you out of the house. When you made it out to the front steps you saw Nick leaning against the house staring out to the lawn. When you passed by him he looked up as you turned around to face him. A wide grin spread on your face as you waved to him knowing there was no way you could worm your way back in that house ever again.

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