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tkaulitzlvr · 8 months

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Help I love your writing so much I get so excited when you post 💗 can you do a “one bed” scenario please where reader and Tom are like ‘enemies’ but not really 🤭

🛐🙏 I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR STORIES THANK YOU!!!

ONE BED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when there is a mixup in the amount of hotel rooms the band were meant to book, you and tom are forced to get a lot closer than you have ever before - much to your annoyance.

content: angst

a/n: thank you so much i’m so glad you enjoy my writing, it really means a lot!! and thank u for the request i hope u like it!

“hi, um we have five rooms booked under the name kaulitz.” bill says, leaning against the receptionist’s desk as she nods slightly, beginning to type something on her computer.

we had been travelling all day, looking forward to getting some rest, the boys performing in two days, their tour coming to an end. i wasn’t part of the band, but i came with them on tour, having known them all my life, it had just become routine that i would join them, no matter where they went. they were my family, and i loved them all like brothers, well, apart from one of them. tom.

he had never warmed up to me, our personalities always clashing for some reason. and, even though we had grown up, maturity supposedly coming with age, we still despised each other just as much as we did all those years ago, the tension never really easing, tolerating him being all i could do - and even that proved difficult sometimes.

“sorry, what was your name again?” the receptionist asks, peering upwards from her computer and looking at bill briefly, taking a quick peek behind him as we all stand tiredly, wanting to go to bed, the delay only irritating us more.

“kaulitz, k-a-u-l-i-t-z.” bill says, spelling his last name out, turning to face us for a second, a puzzled expression on his face as i send one back his way, confused on what is taking this long.

i hear tom tut behind me as he drops his bags down on the ground with a thud, my eyes meeting his as i send him an annoyed look, him pulling a face back and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“okay, we have you booked in, but you’ve only paid for two rooms.” the woman behind the desk says, looking upwards once more.

“oh that’s not a problem.” bill begins, pulling his wallet out and searching for his card. “i must’ve made a mistake, i can just pay for three more.”

“i’m sorry sir, we’re fully booked. that won’t be possible.” she says, standing up from her desk and finding the keys to the two rooms bill had somehow booked.

my eyes widen, gustav and georg doing the same as we share confused glances, wondering how we are going to fit into two rooms, when we had planned to all have our own as we did every time we stayed somewhere. sure, we would usually all hang out in someone’s room together, but we each needed our space when we went to bed, none of us keen on the idea of sharing.

“but, there’s five of us, we can’t fit into two rooms.” bill says, panicking a little as he tries to reason with the receptionist, desperate for a solution.

meanwhile, tom rolls his eyes, muttering a small ‘fucking great’ under his breath, thinking that none of us hear. but, i am far too tired to scold him for it, too focused on thinking of a way to fix this.

“i apologise sir, but there’s really nothing i can do.” the lady sits back at the desk as bill begins to walk away, the five of us standing in the middle of the lobby, wondering what the fuck we were going to do.

“bill how the fuck did you manage to book two rooms instead of five?” tom breaks the silence, massaging his temples and glaring at bill.

“maybe if you did something for us all once, instead of leaving it all to me whilst you sit on your ass then this wouldn’t have happened!” bill shoots back, georg, gustav and i rolling our eyes, not wanting to hear another one of the twins’ arguments - especially not right now.

“guys this isn’t the time for your bickering, let’s just see how many beds the rooms have, and we can figure it out from there, okay?” georg says, tom and bill reluctantly nodding their heads as we all squeeze into the small elevator, next to no room between us as we try to fit five people, plus our luggage into it.

we all make it inside, my side pressed against tom’s back. he groans in frustration, trying to move me off of him. “jesus christ you wanna get any closer? might as well climb on my fucking back.” tom scoffs.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed but this isn’t exactly a spacious elevator. shut up whining and deal with it.” i reply as the doors open, all of us pouring out of it, thankful to have some personal space and fresh air. we walk to our rooms - 401 and 402, praying that there are five beds between the two rooms, and none of us will have to share.

we walk into room 401, the decor minimalistic and clean, seeing a small living room with a decent sized couch that someone could sleep on. the bedroom is a few steps away, bill and tom walking ahead, the rest of us walking in and seeing two single beds.

“thank god.” bill sighs in relief. “three of us can stay in here, the other room should be the same. let’s go check to make sure.”

we all nod, walking to 402 as bill uses the keycard to unlock the door. we walk in, the room completely different to the one next door.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” tom mutters, rolling his eyes as he looks at the room, knowing that there is now a pretty big problem.

it is much smaller, a double bed placed in the middle of the room, glass doors leading out onto the balcony and an en-suite bathroom at one side of the bedroom. somebody would have to share.

“no way am i sleeping here.” gustav says, bill quickly nodding in agreement, georg running into the other room as they both follow, leaving tom and i alone in the smaller room.

“no! absolutely not, no way.” tom quickly says as he realises the situation, storming into the other room and shaking his head, catching the other guys’ attention as i follow behind him. “there is no way i’m sharing a bed with her.”

he turns around to face me, pointing an angry finger in my direction as he spews out his frustration, making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. i stand silently, rolling my eyes at his childishness, not at all keen on the idea either, but i refrain from making a scene as he just did.

“tom you don’t have a choice, it’s just one night, grow a pair.” bill says, earning a quiet laugh from georg behind him.

“please bill, i can’t share with him. i’ll do literally anything.” i beg, feeling nauseous at the thought of having to sleep in the same bed as tom.

“sorry guys, it’s only for a night. i’m sure you’ll be fine.” he shrugs, flopping into his bed, his luggage sprawled out on the floor, nobody caring about the mess. “goodnight, try not to kill each other.”

i scoff at his comment, exiting their bedroom and waving to gustav, who is laying on the couch. tom follows behind him, gustav’s eyes widening as he realises the situation, mouthing a quick ‘good luck’ before i leave, letting tom close the door behind him. none of us say a word walking to our hotel room, my hand reaching for the keycard as i open the door, leaving it open for him to walk in, though it is tempting to slam it in his face and let him sleep in the hallways.

i lift my luggage onto the bed, opening the suitcase and looking for a pair of pyjamas, pulling out a small white crop top and plaid pants. i scramble for the bag that has all my skincare inside it, about to pull it out before my suitcase is tossed aside, looking upwards and seeing tom glaring down at me.

“can you move? your suitcase is taking up all the room.”

i tut, shaking my head and grabbing my bag, zipping the suitcase back up and putting it in the corner of the room, staying silent as i make my way to the bathroom, tom sprawled out on the bed the last thing i see before i close the door.

my comfy clothes on and makeup off, i open the door, seeing tom laid shirtless on the bed, some basketball shorts covering his lower half, cap off and dreads in a ponytail, laid back as he searches through the channels on the tv, which is turned on at an unnecessarily loud volume.

“jesus christ are you trying to get us a noise warning? turn that shit down.” i say, snatching the remote from his hands and lowering the volume, harshly shoving it back into his lap.

he sniggers slightly, enjoying the way he can frustrate me by doing the smallest of things, my mind sometimes questioning wether he does it on purpose, wanting to get a reaction out of me.

i climb into bed at the opposite side, getting under the covers and switching off the lamp at my side, yawning as i realise how tired i really am, tom seeming to be wide awake as the tv continues to blare around the room, the bright light emitting from it stopping me from falling asleep.

“can you turn it off? i want to go to sleep.” i ask, already frustrated, his presence alone enough to anger me.

to my surprise, he doesn’t fight me on it, no rude remark coming out of his mouth, the room being taken over by darkness as he turns it off, an uncomfortable silence taking over as i lay on my side at the edge of the bed, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

his breathing is heavy as he lays flat, his legs stretched out as he clearly doesn’t care about our proximity as much as i do, his leg slightly touching mine. i physically can’t move it any further away, my limbs almost hanging off the edge of the bed as it is. instead of telling him to move, i kick his leg slightly, pushing it away.

“ow! the fuck was that for?” he says looking over at me as i turn to face him, his features only just distinguishable in the dark.

“you’re hogging the entire bed, move!” i shoot back, rolling my eyes.

“you’re not using the space, so why shouldn’t i? you’re getting all pissy because our legs touched, i cant fucking help it, we’re sharing a bed.” he says, stating the obvious.

“i can’t take this.” i mutter, grabbing my pillow and a spare blanket from the cupboard, setting it up on the floor next to the bed.

“what are you doing?” tom asks, sitting up and peering over the bed as i lay down on the floor, moving around to try and get comfy, the surface hard and uneven, much unlike the bed above me, which was actually comfortable.

“the fuck does it look like i’m doing? i’m sleeping on the floor since you’re being such an ass.” i respond, shutting my eyes and trying to fall asleep, but i can still feel tom’s gaze burning into me.

“don’t be ridiculous. get into bed.” tom says, moving over and giving me a little more space.

“no.”

“why not?”

“because you’re pissing me off, okay? you’re just so fucking irritating. shut up, just shut up for once in your fucking life tom!”

silence. i expect another clever comeback, or a witty insult from him, but he stays silent, causing me to open my eyes in confusion. i sit up, looking in tom’s direction and seeing him laid down, staring at the ceiling with his jaw clenched. he looks strangely hurt, like my words had actually impacted him. they never had before, the both of us able to hurl the harshest of insults at each other and brush it off, but this time it seemed different.

“what, did i hit a nerve?” i scoff, genuinely in disbelief of the way he has switched up so fast, his usual heartless demeanour far gone as he lies in silence. “you know it’s the truth tom, you’re always out to get me and i’m sick of it. you’re the most annoying-”

“yeah, i think i got it.” he mumbles, shaking his head and turning around onto his side so he is facing away from me.

“the fuck is up with you?” i say, standing up and moving onto the bed, sitting cross-legged as i try to take a glance at his face, this proving impossible.

“you’ve made your point. just stop it, leave me alone.” he mutters, his voice tired, a little upset too.

“jesus, you can’t seriously be hurt by me saying that! you’ve said all sorts of shit to me, why are you getting so pissy?” i ask, laughing a little, struggling to understand where his change in attitude has come from.

he stays quiet, his body still as it still faces away from me. i give up, accepting defeat and realising that i wont get a response out of him, feeling a little guilty for some reason, although he has said way worse to me and felt no remorse.

i grab my pillow from the floor, putting it back onto the bed as i slip under the covers once again, knowing that i would have gotten zero sleep if i had spent the night on the floor. i lay down, my back flat against the mattress, eyes falling shut as lethargy soon takes over. sleep is seconds away from consuming me, my mind almost falling into a slumber, until i feel a warm hand touch mine, stretching outwards so that it is fully covering it, the certainty of its movement way too strong for it to be an accident.

my eyes shoot open, seeing tom already looking in my direction. he doesn’t move his hand, quickly ruling out his touch being an accident. i don’t pull away, i don’t ask what he thinks he is doing, i don’t call him some childish name. instead, all i can do it look into his eyes, my body still and breathing heavy.

he stays silent too, his body slowly moving closer to mine, my stomach dropping as nerves take over, too intrigued to stop him. he hesitates, before bringing his hand upwards, his other still holding mine, and moving the loose strands of hair out of my face.

“you know i never hated you, right?” he whispers, positioning his hand next to my face once he has moved the hairs covering my features.

“what?” is all i can say, having no idea what the fuck is happening right now, wondering wether this is all some crazy dream.

“why do we act so cold towards each other?” he asks, not moving away from me, his head resting on the pillows, just a few inches away from mine.

“it’s always been a pretty mutual thing tom.” i say, unsure of what else to respond with, unable to remember a time that tom and i hadn’t constantly been at each other’s throats.

“you’re the most oblivious person i’ve ever met, you know that?” he says, breathing out heavily. for a second, i swear i see a smile on his face, but i blame it on the darkness, convincing myself that it is making me hallucinate.

“what do you mean?” i ask, genuinely confused.

he pauses for a second, almost like he is contemplating something, his mind and heart arguing with each other as they fight against acting rashly. i await his response, about to speak again, but i am stripped of the choice, feeling his warm lips quickly collide with mine.

i am stunned, unable to kiss back as i slowly process that his lips are on mine. but, i don’t pull away either, strangely liking it, feeling as if a part of me that has always been missing is finally fulfilled. after a few seconds, i feel tom try to pull away.

“i’m sorry, shit i-”

i cut off his rambling, swiftly reconnecting our lips once more, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling him closer to me, his taking my waist and moving me so that i am now on top of him, not breaking the kiss. his lips mould perfectly with mine, fitting together as if they were always meant to be like this, moving against each other in sync.

everything is a blur, from him kissing down my body, our clothes being thrown carelessly on the floor, bodies moving against each other, both of us crying out in pleasure, to our release, the entire moment happening so fast that it seems like a dream, something i had made up as a result of my tired state.

“what the fuck? guys, come look at this.”

“did they not hate each other ten minutes ago?”

“oh my god! look at tom, i’ve never seen him hold a girl so close before.”

“jesus christ, are they naked? is that her bra?”

“thank god the sheets are on them, i don’t even wanna know what’s underneath.”

i begin to stir, the sound of muffled voices slowly waking me up, my eyes fluttering open. i am greeted by three boys at the foot of my bed, their eyes widened in shock, small giggles escaping their mouths. i look downwards, seeing that my clothes are gone, my body covered by the sheets. i turn to my side, tom fast asleep, his arms draped around my waist, body also bare with his torso on show, lower half thankfully covered, the memories of last night flooding back.

“did you have fun?” bill smirks, georg and gustav bursting into fits of laughter, the sudden noise waking tom up as he opens his eyes, seeing the situation in front of him, his hands scrambling for the sheets to fully cover us both.

“guys what the fuck? get out of here! leave!” he shouts, frantically waving his arms about, reaching for a pillow and throwing it at them as they rush out, making exaggerated kissing sounds until the door closes, both tom and i sighing in relief.

“assholes.” tom mutters under his breath, stretching before bringing my body closer to his, our legs tangled together.

“do you regret it?” he asks, his voice more serious now.

“what? of course not. do you?” i say, worried that he thinks it was a mistake, acting out on pure lust, using me for a quick fuck.

he laughs, watching the way my face drops.

“what’s so funny?” i ask, confused on how he can find my concern so hilarious.

“nothing, nothing. no- i don’t regret it either, why would i?” he says, gently stroking the bare skin of my waist, planting a short kiss on my forehead.

“and here i was thinking you hated me this whole time.” i laugh.

“how about i show you how i really feel again, hm?” he smirks, flipping us over so he is on top of me, placing open mouthed kisses to my jaw and neck as i squeal, my hands moving to his hair as he smiles against my skin.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tomkaulitz #bill kaulitz

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0vergrowngraveyard · 3 months

Text

Tails is missing.

Those three words echoed in Amy's mind as she paced around the Restoration’s control room and to say she was stressed out was a huge understatement.

Not only was Tails one of her closest friends, his big brother didn’t know about it…

And said big brother would be here any second.

They had sent the fox on a simple solo mission. It was easy. Just check out a spot that had a signal where a signal shouldn’t be. He’d done it plenty of times with Sonic so there couldn’t have been any harm in sending him off alone, right?

Wrong. Somehow his comm went offline and his location just vanished. Vanished! Tails never took off his communicator and would make a huge fuss about whenever someone did! He almost glued the watch onto Knuckles’ wrist for crying out loud! Why would he suddenly take his off?

It didn’t make any sense. Tails was way too cautious of this situation to be happening at all.

It was entirely possible that he accidentally turned off his communicator, but the fact that it hadn’t responded for almost 30 minutes shed some doubt on that optimistic train of thought.

Luckily, they had his last known location, which was a few feet away from the point, and that’s why Sonic was on his way over. If anyone could get to that point fast enough, it was him.

Only problem is that Sonic didn’t even know about the kit’s solo mission. Amy didn’t think they had to tell him because Tails was growing into his own hero and, again, it was a simple mission that shouldn’t have even taken him an hour! But, of course, the one time Sonic isn’t involved in any missions that Tails has, it all goes horribly wrong and now she has to explain that to the blue hedgehog who was rapidly approaching her location.

The familiar sound of a dash and volunteers getting angry came from outside the room and her breath hitched.

Chaos, he was here way too soon.

“Hey Ames! Sorry I’m late! Saw a chilidog stand on the way and you know me! Just couldn’t resist.” Sure enough, there was a chilidog in his hand. He took a bite before continuing, “So, what d’you need? What's up?”

If Amy wasn’t sweating before, she sure was now. The way Sonic was staring at her was enough to make her start crying right there. His usual grin and friendly emerald eyes unknowingly stabbing daggers right through her.

It felt like she had betrayed him. His little brother was missing and it was partially her fault. She should’ve just gone with her gut and told him about everything.

She just knew that Tails was working really hard to grow out of Sonic’s shadow (or at least that’s how he phrased it) and she just thought that maybe he’d appreciate getting a solo mission! Show him that the Restoration didn’t just see him as Sonic’s sidekick, but as his own person!

How she wished she could turn back time and stop herself.

“Ames?”

She had been staring.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry, must’ve just spaced out for a second haha!” She laughed nervously leading him over to the computers.

“Ooooookay. So what’s this all about? You said something about checking up on someone?” He asked.

Her heart sank. She had to tell him, there was no dancing around it.

“Yeah… about that,” She anxiously tapped her thumbs together.

Sonic cocked a brow at her, a teasing grin appearing on his muzzle. “Yeah, about that.” The hand not holding the chilidog went to his hip as he leaned into it.

She inhaled sharply.

Just get it over with, he needs to know.

“The person you need to check on is Tails.”

Sonic just stared at her for a few seconds before chuckling a bit. It felt so out of place but he didn’t know that.

“I saw him yesterday. He’s at his workshop.” He took a bite of his food, “Y’know, you should really visit sometime! It’s been awhile!”

When he noticed that Amy wasn’t smiling or looking at all relieved, his grin faltered, “Ames, he’s fine, I’m serious! If you need proof, just check his location!” He brought up his wrist, “Look, I’ll even check it no—“

“Sonic, he’s not at his workshop.” She blurted out before he could check.

The blue hedgehog stared at her as he slowly lowered his wrist. His grin was completely gone, a confused stare taking its place.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

Amy took a shaky breath, “Please…please don’t get mad…”

Now he looked worried. “What? Amy? I won’t, just tell me what’s going on? Where’s Tails?”

You could always tell when Sonic’s patented “Big Brother Mode” was activating. He just had a certain stare he gave you when you even hinted that his little brother may be in trouble. It was a look of worry, fear, and worst of all, anger.

An angry Sonic was a Sonic you didn’t want to mess with. Not much really made him mad, his chill personality was definitely not just a public opinion, but there were a few things in life that really set him off…

and something happening to his little brother was at the very top of that list.

“Sonic, I..” Her voice shook, “I don’t know.”

—————

Sonic had been having a great day. A fantastic day, even.

He had spent it checking out old spots he and Tails used to make camp at, making mental notes that they should spend the night at a few of these locations for old times sake. It could be a week-long camping trip for them! It had been some time since the two of them slept under the stars together!

Visiting these places made him nostalgic in ways he never knew he could feel. He missed the days when all he and his brother had were a backpack and a few heroic deeds to their name. When their biggest worries were Scratch and Grounder, not gods and wars.

Back when his little brother was the sweetest, most adorable little four year old to ever exist (that was a fact, not an opinion).

They were simpler times.

He was so excited to get back home and tell his brother all about his idea so imagine his surprise when he gets a call from the Restoration saying something about needing to check up on someone who wasn’t responding to any calls only to find out that person is supposedly Tails.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He didn’t want to get mad right after he told Amy he wouldn’t, but the hedgehog had no idea how long he’d be able to keep his cool. “Just…just tell me what’s going on.”

Amy turned her gaze to the floor for a few beats, tears pricked her eyes. He started tapping his foot impatiently.

He really didn’t want to be mad at Amy. She was twelve years old and, while she wasn’t in charge of the Restoration anymore, she played a huge part in making sure it stayed afloat. She was already under a lot of stress and raising his voice would not help that.

She inhaled before speaking. “We sent him on a solo mission and his comm suddenly went offline.”

She must’ve seen the look on his face because words came flooding out of her mouth to attempt to explain.

“Sonic, I swear it was nothing dangerous. We just had him go check something out! A weird signal! That’s all!” She cried out. “He’d done it plenty of times before! I-I just thought this wouldn’t be any different! I-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He cut her off. His tone was harsh and he almost cringed at the way it made her wince. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that his worry for his little brother’s safety was strongly overpowering his worry about hurting his friend’s feelings.

It sucked, but he was a big brother first and foremost.

“Because I didn’t think it was a big deal! He's gone to check Chaos Emerald reading on his own, this wasn’t any different! He probably would’ve even been back by now!” The pink hedgehog reasoned, a few tears had slipped down her muzzle.

“Yea, ‘not very different’. Except it’s very different because it was an unknown signal! Not a Chaos Emerald reading! That signal could’ve been anything!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but damn it, he was stressing out. “And even when he goes to look for Emerald readings on his own, I still know where he is in case of situations like these! I always know where he is because he’s eight years old, Amy! He shouldn’t even be looking for readings alone but he does anyway!”

He didn’t even realize he had thrown his free hand up, still holding onto the chilidog in the other, and walked a few steps away from her. His free hand was on his forehead as his mind flooded with all the scenarios his baby brother could be in right now. Images of Tails being scared and/or hurt and his screams of pain played over and over again.

Finally, he turned to look at Amy. For a lack of better words, she looked awful. Her quills were a mess and she looked seconds away from breaking down.

“How long?” He asked

“W-what?”

“How long has his communicator been offline?”

It took a few beats for her to finally respond. “Around 30 minutes ago…”

All Sonic could do was stare. The chilidog in his hand fell to the floor with a disgusting splat.

30 minutes. 30 whole minutes. Chaos knows what happened to his little brother and it took them 30 minutes to call him?! Why was he even told to come to the Restoration HQ? He should’ve been at his last known location by now figuring out what happened!

Oh Chaos what if it was too late. It had to be, right? Sure, 48 hours was usually the crucial time when it came to missing children, but in this line of work, even just 5 minutes alone could spell disaster, let alone 30!

“30 minutes…why didn’t you just send me the coordinates?! Why did you ask me to come here?!”

“I don’t know! I- I just panicked! This has never happened before and I didn’t know what to do!” She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her muzzle as she held her face in her hands.

He felt bad for yelling at her, he hated yelling at his younger friends, but self control was something that was in limited supply at the moment. He looked at the floor, his quills raised as if the knowledge of Tails possibly being in danger meant that the hedgehog was in danger as well.

His legs were itching to just get out of this damn room.

“I’m so sorry, Sonic…Tails could be hurt and it’s all my fault…I should’ve told you…I shouldn’t have even sent him alone…I’m so sorry…” She cried into her hands.

Sonic didn’t respond to her.

Instead, he looked around the room at all the Mobians who were staring at him in fear. None of them had ever seen the hero this upset before.

“Someone send me his last known coordinates.” He demanded. “Now.”

One of the volunteers at the computer quickly typed something into the device and clicked the mouse a few times. His own communicator in his wrist lit up with a notification.

A set of coordinates on the outskirts of White Park Zone.

With the location already memorized, he gave a nod to the Mobian at the computer who sent him a shaky thumbs up back.

He looked back down at Amy. He wanted to say something, wanted to say that it wasn’t her fault and that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t find his voice.

He ran out of the HQ, pushing himself to go faster and faster. He’d already wasted too much time talking.

‘Hang tight, keed. I’m on my way.’ He thought as the boom of a broken sound barrier shook the area around him.

—————

Somewhere far from White Park Zone, a little fox slowly opened his blue eyes. A headache pounding against his skull as he tried to make sense of the area around him through his concussion.

He didn’t remember much, only the feeling of something hard hitting the back of his head and blacking out. He remembered he was checking something out for Amy, it had been his first solo mission for the Restoration! Except that mission seemed to have gone wrong.

He just hoped his brother wasn’t mad at him.

#and then sonic ripped mobius apart dark gaia style #local 8 year old gets kidnapped. his first thought is ‘damn i hope sonic isn’t mad at me’#i’m sorry amy 😭#sorry if this is a weirdly written at all #it was a little rushed #just a tad #still debating if i want to turn this into a larger project #a lot of my ideas have been extremely dark so i might need someone to be my second opinion-#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #miles tails prower #fic

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daughterofcain-67 · 3 months

Text

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝 2)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after his release and escape from Russia, Ben finds himself back in the states but it’s not the same place he’s known before. nonetheless he is determined to get his revenge on Payback for setting him up, and perhaps he’ll finally reunite with you after all these years. He can’t help but wonder… did you wait for him the whole time he was gone?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: minor spoilers to season three, Ben’s point of view when he saw The Legend when he returned to the states. no major spoilers.

Russia…

God what Ben would give to get the Hell out of this country.

Yes, he was conscious but barely because of the fumes that were held up to his face. He lost track of so much time and he didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Let alone what year.

Ben didn’t feel strong enough because of these blasted fumes, he couldn’t even break out of a stupid metal box. He felt the worst feeling a man could feel when he was tortured and experimented on. He felt helpless, humiliated, betrayed by his own teammates.

Did they really hate him that much? Sure he was a bit hard on them, gave them a few beatings here and there to knock some sense into them. But was it really enough to try and get him killed?

This whole time his hope was that Crimson Countess would come and find him. After all, he hadn’t broken up with her yet and he thought she still loved him. After all, with you being retired, there was no way Vought would ever tell you what part of Nicaragua he was stationed, or even what his own team did behind his back.

You were right though, and he wished now that he would have listened to you.

Outside of his prison, he swore he was able to hear some voices. Probably those damned Russians coming to pull him out for more experiments. Maybe that could be his chance if they didn’t sedate him this time.

The next thing he knew, he could hear some sort of alarm going off and he was still motionless. It was like he was in some sort of coma and he hated that he could hear a lot of what was happening, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was his own personal Hell.

Then everything went quiet after the gunfire. He wondered what the hell must’ve happened, what went wrong?

Ben didn’t believe in miracles, but the next thing he knew he could here someone stepping up to this damned metal box. It had to be some supe because no human could take off the front of this damned thing so easily. Was it Vought?

If it was Vought, there was no way in Hell he would ever go back there. Not after the shit they did to him.

As the fumes inside of the vault finally seemed to dissipate, he felt like some kind of fog was finally being lifted. Ben slowly tilted his head to see if he could actually move and to his surprise… he could. He slowly opened his eyes, and at first his vision was a little blurry, even he had to admit that. Who knew how long they had been closed since he hadn’t used them after all.

Once the fog was lifted for him, however, he looked down at his restraints and all it took was a bit of a flex to tear them off. Must’ve been old material by now. Ben took the IV’s out of his arm and whatever sticker things were on his chest and he tossed them to the side. He took off the mask that was blowing the fumes into his system and he felt more alert after that.

He lifted his arms out and gripped onto the outside of the vault to steady himself as he prepared to use his legs again for the first time. One step forward, then another, then he was out of the vault.

He lifted his gaze, realizing that his vision was clearing up nicely, only to notice a group of people were standing in front of him looking stunned. One of them looked like he was about to shit himself.

As he walked further into the room, he realized he had this new sort of energy rushing through him. Something that was much more than just some kind of adrenaline rush. This was different, new, something that had to be the result of whatever radiation the Russians filled him up with to see what could kill him.

He looked down and closed his eyes, concentrating to see exactly what would happen if he focused. Then he started feeling something from within his chest. It felt like some sort of heartburn, but it wasn’t really painful like one.

Nonetheless, the feeling was intense and his chest began to glow and as he tried to release the power, this energy blast escaped from him and it destroyed the back wall that was blocking his way.

When he looked up and saw the damage he had done, he had to admit it was a little surprising that he could do this sort of thing now. Maybe that was the only thing he could thank the Russians for. Not that they’d get his thanks after the shit they put him through to get to this point.

Ben looked forward, not really giving much of a damn to get to know the people that released him, and he walked out of the room and into the hall.

Eventually, he found some guy and knocked him out so he could take his clothes. After all, there wasn’t much of a reason to have your junk out unless he was at herogasm. Once he was dressed, he felt something fall from the pocket of the pants he was putting on.

When he looked down, he saw some rectangular screen. Ben lifted a brow as he bent over and picked it up just to see that it lit up. He squinted a little before he blinked again and saw some picture on the screen. There was even the date and time on this thing.

“What the fuck?”

Well he didn’t exactly expect to live past the turn of the millennium. The 2000’s? Well, according to the lit up brick it was the 2020’s.

That was more time than he expected he lost while he was there. He wondered if you had still waited for him all this time or if you had forgotten about him after a few years of him being gone.

You…

He had to get back to you, Everything in Ben was screaming at him to make it back to the states to get back to you somehow. He wondered if you were even still alive or if you’d be alive and.. well a bit older now with how much time has flown by.

Then he remembered the one thing he promised himself that he would do. He never broke things off with Countess. Well, after what she and the rest of his team did, he was pretty sure it was already over but Ben? Well, Ben wanted to make sure things were more than official. Make her and the rest of his old team pay for the time he’s wasted being here when he could have spent the last several decades being with you.

1984…

After he shut the door behind your apartment, he looked at his team. All of them looked frustrated with him for taking so long. Well, with the exception of Black Noir since his mask was covered.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re looking at? Do you want me to tell you how many damn times I’ve had to wait on all of you when we have to go on a mission? Head out to the car before I crack your fucking skulls open.” He told them and they all started going out to the car so they could get to the headquarters.

Ben looked back at your door with a certain aching in his chest.

He knew you tended to have some sort of intuition about some missions. He wondered since you were clearly worried about him, if he would have anything to be genuinely worried about, or if you were just trying to find an excuse to make him stay.

He hoped that you knew that if he could stay with you, than he would have. But this was Ben’s job, and he didn’t have that much of a choice.

Once Ben made it to the car that took him into that plane so they could go out of the country, his mind started wandering off to you. He wondered if you liked the little gift he gave you. He wasn’t exactly huge on sentimental shit, but you meant something to him and he wanted you to have something to remember him by just in case your little intuition was right and he did have something to worry about.

Eventually, Ben made it to an airport and snuck his way into a cargo plane. It was an easy enough way to not get caught since it seemed entirely too complicated to sneak in the actual airport. Nobody would believe he was Soldier Boy, and he highly doubted people would believe it anyway since it’s been so long.

Anyway, once he got onto the cargo plane, he did what he could to make himself at least semi-comfortable since he had a feeling this would be a long flight.

The one thing he was looking forward to, though, was seeing your smiling face again after so many years.

He was finally coming home.

A few days had gone by and you knew Butcher and his little team must’ve made it to Russia by now. Well actually, they may have even arrived back in the states if they’ve successfully found what they were looking for. You just hoped they would find the answers so they could end Homelander. The world deserved to know the truth about their beloved heroes and their many imperfections.

On the other hand, you had a feeling that such a weapon couldn’t actually exist. It was just some kind of folklore at this point, a legend that you genuinely thought to be myth. If that were the case, though, you wondered how they would end up defeating Homelander.

Then again, if what you heard was correct and that group that came to visit you was really involved in the death of Translucent, you were sure they would find an alternative way of taking care of Homelander. They seemed like a smart enough group to improvise something if things weren’t going to go their way.

For the time being, you were at the store, just getting some groceries you needed at the house. It gave you an excuse to get out and about somehow without drawing much attention. Plus you needed food before you got hangry.

While you were grabbing some ingredients you were planning for some meals that week, you could hear a few other shoppers talking about the news and when you looked over at one of them, they were pointing at a television screen.

You glanced up at the tv at one of the corners in the store, your eyes widened when you saw the reports of a building that experienced some sort of explosion. It wasn’t released to the public how many people suffered or died because of what happened, but you knew the numbers would be released eventually.

“Do you think it’s another Super Terrorist?” One person asked their friend.

“They’re called Super Villains. Didn’t you hear Homelander? That’s the better term, obviously.”

You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at the conversation. Just because some famous guy says one thing sounds better shouldn’t mean the whole world has to stand by it. People were allowed to have their own opinions and they should learn to think for themselves rather than look to supes for political accuracy.

Your eyes widened when you saw the footage released on the news. Some terrorist used some sort of energy blast to destroy that building. How many people did that person kill?

There were times you couldn’t believe the kind of monsters that were out there today. And you thought Hitler was bad, having lived through that. Why were people so insane? You couldn’t believe what this world was coming to and you couldn’t help but feel out of place sometimes.

Shaking your head, you went back to minding your own business as you tried to think of what you should eat for dinner that night and what ingredients you needed. Some Italian dish came to mind so you picked up some pasta, Alfredo sauce, and some seasonings you needed. Then you went to the meats, you grabbed some chicken and you picked up some shrimp and garlic bread from the frozen aisle.

After that, you went to the wine area and tried to think of what sort of wine you were in the mood for that evening.

Gosh, you could hear Ben’s voice in your head making fun of you for being a wine drinker after all the times you both would have some beers together, or maybe the harder stuff after a long mission he had. Although it’s not like either of you could get drunk unless you had a full bottle or two for the each of you.

You smiled to yourself as you remembered some of the drinking games you two would come up with when you would watch old voices. You knew Ben hated watching romance movies but one time your forced him to watch Gone with the Wind with you, and he made up the bright idea of making a drinking game out of it. Anytime Scarlett would flirt with, kiss, or even hug Ashley it was one drink. That was just an example of the nonsense he’d come up with in the movie.

In the end, you decided to pick up some Franciacorta, just some sparkling wine for your supper that evening. Maybe you would even watch Gone with the Wind again, without playing Ben’s little drinking game.

After finding everything you needed, you went to the register and bought everything. You walked out of the store you grabbed everything you needed before you started making your way home.

As you walked out with your bags in hand, you started walking to your car when something caught your attention through your peripheral vision. You glanced over and you saw a man in what looked like a grey runners outfit of sorts with a red stripe on his jacket. He had long hair, a very messy beard that was in desperate need of a trim. But he had these eyes that seemed so familiar, eyes that you hadn’t seen in decades.

“It couldn’t be…” You whispered and when you took a step forward, a large bus with some poster for The Seven drove by and once it passed, the mystery man disappeared.

“Ben…”

It couldn’t be true. He was dead. You hadn’t seen him in decades, everyone in Vought said he was dead. The whole world knew he was gone. How was he still alive. That had to be him right?

What if you were mistaken and it was just some kind of look alike? What if it was just some sort of freak coincidence? Surely you were just seeing things because of those people that swung by your house a few days ago.

You went to your car and popped open the trunk so you could set your groceries down. Afterwards, you went into the car and started to drive home, completely unable to get that man’s face out of your mind.

The man’s face, even if it was covered by the unruly facial hair, you knew deep down that was your Ben. But how did he get back into the states if he was out of the country for so many years?

“You’re imagining things. It couldn’t have been him.” You reminded yourself.

If it were really your Ben, he would have contacted you a long time ago if he were still alive. So you had to be reasonable about this. Maybe if you just go on about your business, you would be able to move on and forget you ever saw that stranger. What you saw couldn’t have been a reality.

After a while you had arrived home and you grabbed the groceries from the trunk of the car. The trip from the car to your front door was a short one but you noticed an envelope taped to your door.

You lifted a brow and you shifted the bags from one hand to the other, you were just glad you didn’t have that many bags after all. Taking the letter from your front door, you opening it to enter your home. You shut the door behind you with your heel before entering the kitchen so you could set everything down on the counter. Once your hands were finally free you opened up the envelope to see what was inside.

When you pulled out what was inside, your eyes widened.

It was a picture, a close up, of the man you used to know. He was in the last uniform he ever wore before his out of the country trip. He had his mask off and he was already there in Nicaragua with his team. It was a photo that was never released to the public.

You looked at the back of the photo to see if there was a name, note or anything on it but it was blank. What you found was simply a heart and the date the photo was taken. It was such an old photo and you could tell that Ben wrote the date with the heart a long time ago. So it couldn’t have been recent, unfortunately.

You wished you knew who had this photo for so long. Why did they keep it? Was it one of his teammates?

You wondered if Countess had something to do with it. She never did like you for whatever reason. You didn’t really care to know why though.

When you were about to set the envelope down somewhere, you noticed a little notecard fell out. Your tilted your head a little before you bent down and picked it up and read the notecard. The handwriting was clearly feminine but you proceeded to read.

Hi Miss Y/N,

My name is Annie and I’m friends with Hughie. I’ve found this picture of Soldier Boy somewhere in the files in Vought and thought you might like to have it.

Best regards,

Starlight.

That was oddly sweet of her to give you a picture of Ben. Hughie telling a member of The Seven where you lived felt a little unsettling though. You weren’t sure if you could necessarily trust it, but none of them have exactly given you a reason not to trust them just yet.

The best you could do at the moment was just set the note to the side and went to your little desk in your office. You realized you never put your chest back where it belonged that had all of your letters to Ben.

The events of today were definitely worth writing about. Maybe one quick little letter before dinner couldn’t hurt anything, could it?

When you grabbed your writing paper and a pen, you began your letter which was practically a run down of everything that’s happened within the last couple of hours.

Ben,

You wouldn’t believe what happened today. Supe Terrorists are active and I think I’m hallucinating…

Ben ended up visiting with The Legend after his little mishap with that building after his arrival.

Honestly he couldn’t explain what happened. He was still getting used to his new abilities, sure, but he wasn’t even trying to use them when he killed all of those people. The news released the numbers and he found out he killed 19 people.

“So how did you do it?” Ben’s old friend asked while Ben stood in the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror.

“Do what?” He questioned as he looked at his hair and beard. You’d have his head if you saw him walking around like this. You hated if he didn’t trim his beard, now he understood why.

“You got a razor or a trimmer anywhere?”

“Yeah, second drawer on your left. And you know what I meant. How the Hell did you fake your own death?”

Ben rolled his eyes as he pulled out the drawer to look for the razor. What he saw wasn’t a single blade like he was used to, but it looked like it had five blades.

“Who the fuck needs five blades to do the job of one blade?” Ben asked as he held up the razor and the old man just shrugged.

“Just keeping up with the times, Ben. Now are you gonna answer the question or not?”

“Let’s just boil it down to I got lucky, alright?” Ben finally answered before he looked at the man through the mirror.

“Although… I would like some info on Countess. She still suckin’ in air?”

“Yeah, as far as I know. Although, I’m getting the feeling your little reunion won’t blow over too well, will it?”

Ben just let out a hum, “We’ll see how it goes for her. Do you happen to know what went down in Nicaragua?”

“What do you mean? Everyone said you were killed and whatever supposedly killed you was in Russia.” Legend commented as he stood there, somewhat amused while watching Soldier Boy use a different razor than what he was used to.

“So you don’t know everything that went down?”

“Am I supposed to know what went down?”

Ben sighed. Honestly he wasn’t sure if Legend was telling the truth on this one or not but he did trust him enough to not kill him. No, he just wanted his revenge on his former teammates, “The team set me up. Countess, Noir, Gunpowder, all of them.”

“Shit, Man.”

“They tried to get me killed then they sent me to Russia. I’m just lucky I found my way back.” Ben said and he put the razor down before he picked up some scissors to start trimming his hair.

“So that’s why you’re off to see Countess, huh? Ask her who exactly was behind it and all?”

“Well duh. I just wonder if it was a Vought thing or if it was just the crew wanting me dead.”

“Good luck with all that. You’ve never really had that many problems getting what you wanted out of them, excluding the end of course.”

Then he remembered the woman he saw not long after he blew the building. At first he could have sworn it was you, but he wondered if it was just some sort of relative of yours that looked almost exactly like you. Ben just had to know for sure if it was you or not.

“Have you heard about Quake? Is she still around?” He questioned while he focused on his trim.

“Quake? Last I heard she was alive and kicking. No one’s heard from her in decades though since her retirement. You know how she was though. If she wasn’t really into the fame Payback brought you and your old team, she’s not going to want the public to know where she is or what she’s been up to.” Legend replied.

Ben couldn’t help but to smile a little to himself. You had your little quirks and he thought it was cute that you never cared much about the fame of everything. He thought it was sweet in your own little way that you wanted him all to yourself and wanted him to break up with Crimson Countess before you even slept with him.

“You know, a lot of people speculated after your death if you two had a thing for each other.” Legend said just as Ben finished up trimming his hair and he brushed the remnants off his shoulders.

“So is that why you’re asking about her? You planning on seeing her too?” Ben looked over when he heard the question.

“I need to know who my allies are is all. Clearly Payback doesn’t have my trust anymore.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Come on, I’ve been gone decades and you’re wondering if I’ve got the hots for Quake? She’s probably moved on by now.” He rolled his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s lied to Legend, or withheld information.

“Uh huh. Right… well she never ‘moved on’ as you say. She doesn’t have any kids or grandchildren. There’s no record of her getting married either.”

Those words made Ben’s heart swell. You actually waited this whole time? He could hardly believe something like that. Most people would have moved on.

“Right… well… Do you know where Countess lives? I’d better be off before Vought IDs me in the video the news released this morning.” Ben cleared his throat

Legend sighed a little and he walked over to his desk where he had a sheet of paper. He wrote down the supe’s address before handing the sheet over to Ben.

“Watch your back out there, Soldier Boy. Things aren’t exactly the same as how they were when you were still presumed alive. Shit’s changed and they have a lot of security cameras. Vought’s gonna have access to those.” Legend warned.

“Yeah… you’re telling me. Never in my life have I felt out of place. It’s fucking weird.” He said and he took the paper from his friend, shoving it into a pocket.

“Wish me luck.”

Hi everyone!! Thank you all so much for your support and comments in the first part! I am so excited to see where this story will go and I hope all of you enjoy~

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cozage · 1 month

Text

The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 7: Day One

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Word Count: 3.5k Characters: female reader x Zoro --

When you awoke, Zoro was on the mat in the corner, his back leaned against the wall. He was snoring softly, and you found yourself smiling at him and his disposition. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin; you had to admire that about him.

You shook the thoughts from your head and walked into your bathroom to prepare for the day. You weren’t supposed to be praising him. Cold as ice, just like your father. It was only three days. Once your father was back, Roronoa would fall back into line. It was better to call him Roronoa. It was less personal; it didn’t allow for any doors to be opened. It was better.

After having a few moments in the bathroom to center yourself, you felt prepared to take on the day.

That feeling immediately vanished when you opened the door and found Zoro beginning to wake from his sleep. You considered trying to silently dart out the door, but his eyes squinted open and those stormy eyes found yours instantly.

Cold as ice, just as your father. What would he say in this situation?

You stood a little taller and cleared your throat. “I suppose you didn’t even bother to try and return to your bedroom last night?”

Your words didn’t affect him at all. He simply let out a half smile. “I wanted to be here when you woke up so I could tell you.” His hand turned a dark metallic color. “Almost a full hour last night. I didn’t want to wake you. Figured you could use the rest.”

You bit back a smile. You were proud of him and his progress. But your father rarely let his emotions show, and you would only survive these next two days if you kept the distance he did.

You gave a sharp nod. “Very well. We can continue with the next steps after breakfast.”

The surprise in his face made your chest ache. But he quickly recovered, and so did you. You walked out of the room to head down to the dining room, not looking back to see if Zoro was following you.

As you got closer to the main level, the smell of bread, eggs, and bacon floated up the stairwell, making your stomach rumble.

“Can’t believe you’re hungry after last night,” Zoro joked as he quickly caught up to you. “I’m still stuffed.”

“I recommend you try to eat something,” you said cooly. “We will be out for a while today.”

“So you’re going to help me push haki into blades?”

You scowled, mimicking your father when you had asked him that same question years ago. “Not quite.”

You could feel Zoro’s irritation rise behind you. “I thought you said-”

“You will be practicing, but not with something so dangerous or precious as blades.”

You could feel his glare on you, but you didn’t look at him. You let the smell of food be your only guide.

The dining table was set lavishly, but only for three. Your father must’ve told Perona of his departure before he had left.

“Perona!” you gasped. “This is exquisite!”

She beamed at your words. “I figured we might as well go all out since that old meanie isn’t here right now!”

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself,” you complimented. “Did you pick those flowers from the gardens?”

“Sure did!”

There was a stark contrast between the pink flowers she had gathered and the black flowers, but you didn’t comment on it.

The food was well prepared, too. If you hadn’t known better, you would have assumed your father had made it.

“Mihawk has been teaching me how to cook,” Perona noted as you all continued to eat. “I never liked being in the kitchen, but Mihawk said-”

“If you can’t cook, you can’t live,” you finished with her, smiling to yourself.

Perona wasn’t so bad in small increments. She was kind and she cared about those around her, even if she didn’t always have the best way of showing it.

“It’s a good skill to have,” Zoro agreed. You could tell he was trying to find some way to be included in the conversation.

“One you should learn,” you retorted. “You can use your armament haki while doing the dishes as training. Perona, feel free to make the water as hot as you need to. I’m releasing Roronoa to your care for the morning.” You shot him a quick look, trying to look as disapproving as your father. “I expect an edible meal for lunch.”

Zoro’s eye twitched. “You said you would-”

“This is part of your training,” you said, cutting him off. “Do it, or you will get no further help from me.”

You left the dining table then, walking briskly and confidently up the stairwell. You needed some time away from him, time to clear your head. It was the only way you’d make it through these next few days.

You settled in your all-too-familiar chair and picked up a book. A sense of normality would help make you feel more like yourself and be able to guard against the whims of Roronoa Zoro.

It was almost lunchtime before a knock came at your door. You started for a moment, thinking your father may have come home early, but that wasn’t the secret knock he had created. Your eyes flicked back down to your book, trying your best to ignore it.

The person knocked again.

“Come in,” you said, letting out a loud sigh.

Zoro opened the door, his eyes instantly finding yours. It was so easy to melt under his gaze, but you stiffened instead.

You raised an eyebrow in question, as if you were being inconvenienced.

“I’m done helping Perona,” he said. “Little witch had the water temperature at scalding levels, by the way. Thanks for that.”

Your eyes returned to the book. They had to, or else they would linger on him for too long. “Did you use haki to shield yourself like I asked you to?”

He nodded, trying to hide a scowl. “And helped Perona to prepare lunch. It’s ready now.”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” Your eyes stayed on the page, but you could see him lingering in the doorway. “Go without me.”

He hesitated as though he was going to say something, but then decided against it and shut the door without another word.

You descended the stairs a few minutes later after finishing the chapter of your book to find Perona sitting alone at the table.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting here forever! What took you all so long? I sent Zoro up like ten minutes ago!”

Your brow furrowed as you looked around the room, finding it empty. “I sent Zoro back down here ten minutes ago.” Roronoa, you corrected yourself silently. You were supposed to refer to him at Roronoa.

Perona huffed in frustration. “He’s always getting himself lost in this castle. Why can’t he ever find his way!”

You shrugged. “He’ll join us when he figures it out.”

You had to be cold. It was necessary for survival. But still, a part of you softened in realizing that he had found his way to your room with ease, if Perona’s timeline was correct. Perhaps that is why he was so hesitant to leave.

He had known how to get to you. Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat. Perhaps you should go looking for him and help him find his way back to lunch. But that’s not what your father would do, so you remained at your seat and began to eat lunch.

“How was his help this morning?” You asked Perona, trying to remain indifferent.

“He was more hurt than help in the kitchen!” She groaned, covering her face with her hands at the memory. “I started making more dirty dishes than I needed to just to keep him away from the food.”

You smiled at that. Zoro didn’t seem like the kind who would be any help with cooking. Perhaps you could assign him kitchen duty again, this time focusing on cutting vegetables uniformly. That would certainly keep both of them out of your hair and at each other’s throats for the rest of the day.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Zoro raced down the stairs, huffing and out of breath.

He gave you a glare. “How big is this damn castle?!”

You shrugged, suppressing a smile. “Big enough for you to get lost in. Though I believe that could be done with a two-bedroom cottage.”

Zoro’s eye twitched, but Perona let out a howl of laughter, and that made the cheap shot worth it.

“Eat.” You motioned to his seat. “We have work to do after lunch.”

“Don’t want to put me on kitchen duty again?” He grumbled, but he did as he was told.

“Would you like to be put on kitchen duty, Roronoa?”

He looked over at you, shocked with the formality you had given him, and studied your face for a long time. You almost looked away, but you kept your gaze fixed on him, waiting for a response.

“Please no!’ Perona cried. “I swear it’s more of a punishment for me than it is for him!”

You ignored her, watching Zoro intensely, waiting for a response.

“Whatever training you want me to do, I’ll do it,” he finally said, breaking eye contact and digging into his lunch.

“Then we will train in the courtyard after lunch to give Perona some reprieve.” You gave the bubble-gum haired girl a wink, and she let out a huge sigh of relief.

Zoro shot you a look of confusion, pausing mid bite. “I thought we would train at-”

“The courtyard.” You finished for him, adding a sense of finality that you knew he would not challenge. You couldn’t leave the grounds anyway. It wasn’t safe with your father gone.

After a rather quiet lunch, you sent Zoro to the courtyard to start warming up while you retreated to the training room. You picked up a few stuffed animals and retreated out of the room. He was never going to do this. You could see him starting a fight the moment you walked out the door. He didn’t understand that there was a process. But you would stand your ground, just as your father had with you.

You took a deep breath and walked into the courtyard. Zoro had already managed to work up a sweat and lose his shirt. He didn’t bother to stop what he was doing, but his eyes glanced over to you.

And then down to the teddy bears you were holding.

“Are you planning on making those things into scary monsters that I have to fight?”

You resisted the urge to banter back. “They are for training.”

“Scary.” He finished up his final set or workouts and sheathed his swords. “Can I only cut them if I have haki infused into my blades?”

You set the bears down on the cobblestone patio. “I want you to infuse them with haki.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

You flexed your jaw, trying to swallow back any emotion. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

His eyes flashed with hurt, but just for a moment. “Why do I have to do this?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if the answer were obvious. Your father did that to people a lot, and it seemed to be effective in making them second guess themselves. “Blades are easily breakable. Bears are not. If you infuse too much or too little, the bear will not break into a million pieces. But by all means, Roronoa, if you think you can go straight to swords, I will not stop you.”

You turned and began to walk away. He reached for you, and you quickly dodged away from him, turning back with fire in your eyes.

But he had fire in his eyes as well. “It’s Zoro. I told you to call me Zoro.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You are my pupil, and you will be addressed as such. Blurred lines don’t help anyone.”

He scoffed. “You can’t be serious. What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me,” you hissed back. “You came here to train. So train.”

“You said you would help!”

“I am.” You turned away. “You won’t leave this island with broken blades now. You’re welcome.”

You walked back into the castle without another word. You had hoped that maybe he would have stopped you, but he stood there stunned into silence.

You retreated into your room and sat back down in your chair. Distractions. You needed distractions. You pulled out your book, trying to ignore the fact that you had a clear line of sight to Zoro’s training, should you choose to look out your window. You were curious if he had taken the teddy bear advice, or if he had thrown your directive completely out and was trying his own method. You were too scared to look down and see.

You tried to read your book for an hour before you gave up. The words were swimming across the pages, your mind easily wandering out the door and down the hall to the courtyard. You should go check on him, see if there was any progress.

You probably had been too cruel to him. And while you had good reason, he had no idea why you were responding so coldly to him. Zoro hadn’t learned much at all when your father had given him instructions and left him alone. No, he flourished under your steady guidance and ability to recognize small victories. There were ways to be a good teacher and still keep yourself emotionally distant…wasn’t there?

You put your book down and walked down the stairs, glancing out the door to the courtyard before you took a step out.

It wasn’t pretty. One of the bears had been torn apart. You weren’t sure if his haki had done that, or his frustration. Stuffing laid strewn about the area as if you had gotten an early snow.

But Zoro was still there, trying his best to infuse the stuffed animal. He was failing miserably. But he was trying.

You silently opened the door and stepped outside. “Would you like some pointers now?”

“Depends.” He didn’t seem shocked to hear you. It was as if he knew you were coming. “Are you going to be an asshole about it?”

“Are you going to accept my help?” You shock back, instantly irritated.

One eye cracked open. You could tell he was fighting between an appropriate response and what he wanted to say.

“I will,” he said through gritted teeth. Appropriate response it was.

You sat down across from him. “Show me what you’ve been doing. And we’ll go from there.”

He bit back a response and closed his eyes, trying to focus. He was able to instantly shroud his hand in armament haki, but he gritted his teeth as he tried to force his haki into the bear. He was acting as if it were something to be conquered, rather than an extension of himself.

You supposed it would be hard to have him act that a teddy bear was an extension of himself without knowing that beforehand.

“I see,” you whispered. “You can stop now.”

He opened his eyes, looking at you with caution. You couldn’t blame him for being wary.

“Did the stuffing massacre happen from an attempt at haki or were you just frustrated?”

His lips quirked up at your joke. You started to grin back, but stopped yourself. This had to be professional.

“The haki tore his head off,” he said. “I did the rest. It was the closest I got to a success.”

It wasn’t very close at all, but you didn’t comment on that.

He looked at you skeptically. “Can this actually be done, or did I do something to piss you off?”

You took the bear from his hands and pushed haki into it. The brown fur instantly became metallic black, and you looked at him expectantly.

“Got it,” he grumbled. “What am I doing wrong?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow.” You knew what you had to do to help him, and you weren’t prepared for that yet.

“You said-”

“I need time,” you admitted, showing a shred of vulnerability. “I don’t have the reserves to help you today. Let me build it up and we can work tomorrow. Together.”

His hard face softened at your words, as if he could sense a small piece of your wall being peeled away. “How should we train now?”

“Relax,” you said. “Prepare mentally and build your reserves. With any luck, we’ll last until lunch time.”

His brow furrowed. “What exactly are you planning?”

You gave him a small smile. “A training exercise on the act of extending your haki. That’s all.”

“You say it so devilish, I’m almost nervous.”

You let out a laugh. “You should be.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Your face was neutral, but you knew he could see the mischief dancing in your eyes. “Only if you want it to be, Roronoa.”

It was too easy to fall into this with him. The easy jokes and quick banter was practically second nature with him, even though you had only known each other a few weeks. But the spark went out of his eyes at your last word. His name.

“Call me Zoro.”

“It’s easier if I don’t.” Ice flooded through your veins. You had gotten too casual again.

“Everyone calls me Zoro,” he argued.

You picked up the stuffed toys that were still intact instead of responding. “Tell Perona I’ll take dinner in my room tonight.”

“What? We eat together.” You could hear the frustration in his voice.

“I need to concentrate tonight. Unless you want one of us to end up like your stuffed friend over there.” It was partially the truth. You did need to concentrate and build up resistance to the possibility of an influx of haki. But you could do that anywhere. It was an excuse to be alone.

“Fine.” He let you walk away again, but this time you were relieved.

As you hid in your room, you could hear Zoro and Perona fighting downstairs, but you refused to go investigate. It wasn’t until hours later that there came a knock on your door. Zoro.

“Dinner.” He opened the door and brought in a tray of food.

“Leave it on the table.” You kept your eyes closed, still focusing on building up energy.

“Figured we could eat together,” Zoro said.

Your eyes snapped open and you glared at him, irritated that he broke your concentration. “I need to be alone.”

“No you don’t.” He had that smug look on his face, as if he was capable of seeing right through you. “You can eat with me for twenty minutes.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and resettling. “Go away, Roronoa.”

“You watched me struggle,” he mused. You could hear the creak of your bed, and you bristled at the thought of him being near your things. “I feel like I should get the option to sit and watch you.”

“Get out,” you growled. “You’re distracting me.”

He let out a chuckle. “Now you know what it’s like.”

“Roronoa-”

“Come eat with me, then I’ll leave.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

You tried to focus; tried to build your energy. But it was distracting having him in here. You could feel his presence, normally so serious and stoic, almost amused now as he watched you.

“Do you mind?” You snapped, finally opening an eye.

“I think what’s distracting you is hunger, actually. Let’s eat.”

“Please, Roronoa,” you whispered. “Please leave.”

You locked eyes with him. A battle of the wills. But you were begging, not challenging. If you had dinner with him alone again…who knew where that would end up. You could see from the corner of your eye he had brought wine too. You definitely couldn’t sit with him and have dinner and wine in your room.

“You really want me to go?” His voice was soft, and you felt a pull in your core.

You nodded, knowing your voice would betray you. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Which is exactly why you had to stay far away.

He could see the pleading in your eyes, and he relented. He got up from your bed with a sigh and grabbed one of the trays-his tray.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Early.”

You nodded, though you knew he didn’t see you respond. He was already closing the door. You grabbed the food and nibbled at it, not having an appetite. He had left the wine, but you resisted opening it. You needed a clear head.

Only when you crawled into bed did you notice it. A red rose, lying on your nightstand. Perona only picked flowers of the pink and black variety. Zoro must have set it down before he left.

Surely all pupils brought flowers to their teachers, didn’t they?

If you'd like to be added to a tag list for this story, comment below or send me a message :)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚

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7ndipity · 6 months

Text

Make an Effort

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, lil suggestive, not proofread(when are they ever tho?)

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You and Namjoon had the kind of friendship where you’d known each other long enough that you could ask each other to do pretty much anything and you would more than likely agree. Shoulder to cry on? You’re there. Hide a body? You’ll at least consider it.

And yet, it still managed to catch Joon off guard when you came bolting over to him in the middle of the party you were both attending and latched onto his arm.

“I need you to be my boyfriend for ten minutes.” You said frantically.

“What?!” He spluttered, nearly choking on his drink.

“One of my old roomates from university is here with her husband and I fucked up and told them I had a boyfriend and now they want to meet him!” You explained quickly.

“Why would you tell them that?!” He gaped at you.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot who should not be allowed to speak after drinking tequila, now will you please help me?!” You begged.

He hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Fine, ten minutes.”

“Thank youuu!!” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling him along behind you through the crowd, oblivious to the sudden flush of crimson that was coloring Joons face due to your actions. He managed to compose himself though before you reached the table where your friend was sitting with a few other people.

“Guys, you remember Namjoon, right?” You said lightly, still holding onto his hand tightly.

There was a brief flurry of greetings as Joon smiled and nodded politely, slightly relieved that he did in fact remember your friend from the early days of your friendship.

You all talked comfortably for a few minutes, Joon finding it slightly too easy to slip into the role of pretend boyfriend, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. He couldn’t help but wonder if this would be how it felt if he actually had the nerve to confess and tell you how he felt about you.

Too soon though, the moment came to an end as you released your hold on him to go get you both more drinks.

“So, how long have you and Y/n been together?” Your friend asked, trying to make small talk.

“Not long. It’s uh, still pretty new.” He said somewhat awkwardly, glancing towards where you’d disappeared.

“You make a really cute couple.” She said. “It’s nice to see that you two got together, especially considering how Y/n used to have the biggest crush on you back in university.”

“What?” His full attention flicked back to her, suddenly very interested in this conversation. You liked him?! This was brand new information to him.

“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, surprised. “I figured that’s how you got together.”

“No, I mean I knew,” He lied quickly. “I just didn’t realize it was common knowledge.”

“Oh, it wasn’t.” She laughed, understanding. “They never actually told me, but it was pretty obvious, you know? Like, I remember when you started dating some one girl during our senior year, they wouldn’t leave the house for like a week.”

He remembered you avoiding him for a week, but you’d told him it was because you had the flu and didn’t want him to catch it.

Was that the real reason? And if so, why hadn’t you said anything?

He knew the likely answer though before he’d even finished the thought, because it was the same reason why he’d never said anything about his own feelings; you hadn’t wanted to fuck up your friendship in the event that the other person didn’t feel the same way.

The fear of potentially losing one of the most important people in his life had been more than enough to keep him from vocalizing his feelings for this long, he could imagine how it must’ve felt for you.

But now that he knew you did feel the same(or at least used to, but he was hoping it was still true), the question was how to proceed with this information.

He supposed he could just ask you point blank, but knowing you, you would likely bristle and deny it in an attempt to avoid the potential embarrassment or rejection. Something more subtle would be the better route.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by you returning with the drinks.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You asked, noticing his odd expression.

“Just hearing funny stories about you.” He said lightly, a plan beginning to form in his head as he spoke.

“Nothing too compromising, I hope.” You said, only half joking.

“Nah, just interesting.” He said, changing the subject. “Hey, You wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

You looked up in surprise. “I guess. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, just thought it’d be fun.” He replied with a shrug.

“Okay, sure.” You nodded.

“Cool, It’s a date.” He said, biting back a grin as he caught the way your eyes flickered to him at his choice in phrasing, but said nothing.

He managed to surprise you again the next morning when you opened the front door to find him waiting with a bouquet of pink carnations.

“Morning.” He said brightly.

“What are those?” You asked, ignoring his greeting, distracted by the flowers.

“They’re for you.” He said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I saw them on the way over and remembered you saying that they were one of your favorites, so I thought you’d like some.” He said, offering you the bouquet.

Hesitantly, you took them, still eyeing him curiously. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Now, breakfast?”

The rest of the morning passed fairly normally, though it didn’t pass your notice that Namjoon seemed to be extra attentive towards you, opening doors and pulling your chair out for you. He also refused to let you pay, even though it was technically your turn.

“I’m the one that asked you out, I should be the one to pay.” He said, quickly swiping his card.

“Don’t say it like that,” You said with an awkward laugh. “It makes it sound like we’re on a date.”

“I mean, I was your fake boyfriend last night.” He said with a smirk, making you flush slightly.

You didn’t say anything more about his behavior until later as he was walking you to your door.

“Did something happen?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You’re being like, really nice today.” You said, making him laugh.

“Am I not allowed to be nice to you?” He asked.

“No, you are,” You said. “I was just wondering what the reason was.”

“I just felt like it, is that okay?”

“I guess so.” You shrugged. “I’m just not used to having someone put this much effort into a ‘date’.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to change that.” He grinned, trying to quell the thrill in his chest at your referring to the outing as a date.

For the next week, his odd behavior continued, taking you on outings to the park or to dinner, buying you little gifts, texting you good morning every day, he’d even got you both little lego models to build together while you hung out at his place.

“Babe, can you pass me that piece?” He asked distractedly, the simple petname being the thing that finally made you snap, freezing for a moment as you stared at him.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked abruptly.

He glanced up in confusion. “Doing what?”

THIS!” You gestured. “The dates, the gifts, the ‘babe’? Why are you acting like there’s something between us all of a sudden? Why are you trying to get my hopes up when I know nothing will-”

Your words were silenced by his lips suddenly on yours, soft but insistent, as his hands came up to gently cradle your face. After a few seconds, he slowly pulled away, cautiously meeting your wide-eyed stare.

“Because I want there to be something between us.” He confessed. “I want you to get your hopes up. I want you to know what it feels like to have someone make an effort to show their love for you, because I do. I love you, Y/n.”

For several long seconds, you stared at him in shock, before suddenly tackling him, knocking him back against the sofa as you reconnected your lips with his.

“I love you too.” You managed to mumble in between kisses, earning a muffled chuckle from him as he returned your enthusiasm, hands fumbling to find purchase to pull you even closer, winding one arm around your waist while the other hand came up to rest on the back of your neck.

Eventually, you had to pull back for air, staring at each other with hooded eyes.

“So, does this mean I get to be your real boyfriend this time?” He joked, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

You let out a shaky laugh, already leaning back in. “Honey, you can be whatever you want.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @captainorangegoose

#namjoon scenario #namjoon drabble #namjoon fluff #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon imagine #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts requests #7ndipity

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pastel-pillows · 3 months

Text

Finally free of Hawkins Billy makes his way back to California after years away where he makes a special stop at his favorite diner.

Word count: 8925

No warnings!

“One all American breakfast, extra bacon, extra crispy, with a black coffee, extra hot. Banana nut French toast with a side of sausage and orange juice and an Ella’s original with water, coming right up.”

The sun had just barely made its home in the sky for the day yet the diner was already bustling, silverware on ceramic plates and chatter mixing into an ambient background noise that mingled perfectly with the wafting scent of brewing coffee and frying foods. Large windows let in unfiltered light to bathe the small diner in a natural glow and despite the early hour, most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the welcoming atmosphere the building was bringing in, content, and some admittedly sleepy, faces all at peace.

“Thanks Hun, you’re the best.” A wrinkled hand held out the menus for you to grab, her other one patting the top of your hand in a silent ‘nice to see you gesture’ as you grab them.

“It shouldn’t be too long of a wait, most of the morning rush has been seated and served.” Tucking the menus underneath one arm you turn your attention to the toddler seated next to the older woman to ruffle his hair. “Would you like some crayons, little man?” Flipping the paper place mat in front of him over you pointed to the drawings and little mazes printed on it, all things he’d seen many times before but was nonetheless excited each and every time you showed him them.

“Here you go sweetheart.” The bell over the door chimed while you were grabbing the cup with worn down and, unfortunately, mostly broken crayons, so you call out over your shoulder that you’d be with whoever had just walked in, in just a minute. “Who’s the lucky person you’re coloring for this time?”

Having known the Hannigan’s from the summers you’d spent with your grandmother, you’d become quite familiar with their kids and in turn their grandkids and had several juice-stained pieces from Jackson pinned to the fridge in the kitchen of the restaurant. You didn’t get to hear his answer, the door chiming once more covering up the gentle reply from the timid kid so you just nod to pretend that you’d heard what he said and then promised to be back soon with their food and to check on his masterpiece.

By the time you made it back to the podium up front, no one was there to be found. A quick scan told you that whoever had come in had either gone to the counter to pick up an order or had gotten too impatient and simply left.

“He already left, sweetheart. Grabbed some pastries and booked it.” Helen reading your searching face gestures to the small glass display to illustrate her point. “Must’ve been on the road and in a hurry, I didn’t recognize his face, real quiet kid too, he didn't say much.”

“Thanks for taking him, I got caught up talking to Jackson about his art.”

“If only I was thirty years younger, he was a cute little thing.” Helen waves away your thanks in favor of cooing over the mystery man with the sweet tooth and how she would’ve eaten him up back in her day.

“Your mailman is going to be heartbroken.” You shoot a quick glance over the counter to see Sabino still cooking and take the chance to lean over the counter and gossip about Helen’s love life. “ The sailor, too.”

“Honey, there is plenty of me to go around, even at my age a good time is a good time. You should really be getting out there too, we can manage a shift or two without you, you know? The place isn’t going to crumble if it’s just us and you need to have fun while you’re young.” In between stories of her rendezvous Helen loved to urge you to follow in her footsteps and take the good that was offered, or at the very least spend time anywhere that wouldn’t leave you smelling of burnt coffee and fried foods. Her own kids had grown and left some time ago and she’d taken to you with an almost maternal, maybe more older sister role and was no stranger to worrying over you.

A pair of plates scraping as they slid across the tiled ledge drags your sight from Helen’s scrutinizing, albeit well-meaning gaze to a plate of French toast stacked sky high with whip cream, chopped nuts, bananas and powdered sugar and a much more modest one of eggs, hash browns and bacon. “Better get that, Jackson hates when the whip cream melts before he can eat it.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in going out; California was thriving –the place to be with seemingly new things coming out every day, but you needed to save. A car wasn’t going to buy itself and waking up at four every morning to catch the bus to make it to the diner on time wasn’t something you wanted to do forever and as much as you like rooming with Lisa, a place of your own was eventually the goal.

Your shift passes slowly after that, thoughts of what girls your age were doing occupying your mind, daydreams of nights out and shopping trips mixing with the fried scent of reuben sandwiches and chicken tenders as the morning crowd bled into the afternoon lunch rush.

Helen’s words left you longing for both the things you were missing out on and the parties you’d gone to in high school. You hadn't realized just how much you’d missed having simple mindless fun until today. The memories of his laughter echoed in the back of your head through your afternoon chores and well into the evening, your dreams were water colored that night, pretty but distant and just out of reach.

“Morning Hun.” Sabino, the only person to get there earlier than you, sat at an empty table with a mixing bowl full of fruit loops in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee which he slides to empty space on the other side for you to enjoy.

Sliding into the seat, you lay your head down on the table and wrap your palms around the warm ceramic to both enjoy the last dregs of sleepiness and allow yourself to fully let the approaching work day settle in in the peace of the morning. After a good ten minutes had passed, the bell on the front door chimes once, then twice– and finally a third time to let you know Helen, Marie and Dennis had made their way in and that it was time to chug your now lukewarm coffee and start getting things ready.

The morning prep goes fairly painlessly and as the sun creeps up people began to trickle in, all of them just as heavily lidded and reluctant to leave the cozy promise of beds and sleep that came with nightfall as you had been, but perking up at the smell of coffee and grilling bacon that saturated the air .

“Welcome to Cecil’s, will you be dining with us or ordering to go?” It was barely fifteen minutes past the hour when the bell chimes signaling another customer had come ambling in. Marie was hosting today and you can just barely hear her greeting the patron with an enthusiasm that could only come from someone who was as new to the workforce as she was, fresh faced and eager with everything ahead of her.

There was a longer than usual pause and you heard Marie speak again. “Sir?” Just a few more seconds pass and a deeper voice responds with three words that had you craning your head to peek around the corner where you’d been setting out the pastries.

“Coffee, to go.”

Marie repeats his order to confirm. “One black coffee to go. Can I get you anything else this morning? They’re just putting the pastries out, we make them ourselves.”

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Yes sir.” Knowing you should probably brush it off as someone who just sounds familiar, you find yourself quickly stacking the last of the muffins and closing the display to finish before Marie is done pouring the coffee to get a glimpse of the man up front.

Rounding the corner you make it in time to see Marie putting the pot of coffee back, she’d given him decaf on accident, with no one else up front. “Marie?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Can you cover for me real quick? I need to check on something.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

He was still there, sitting with one hand resting outside the window of his car holding a cigarette that he wasn’t smoking, head tilted back and eyes locked firmly on the roof of his car, the coffee he’d just bought was placed on his dash with the lid popped off and several sugar and creamer containers were open and emptied alongside it.

To everyone, including yourself, he looked to be just another man who was taking a moment to collect himself before the start of another day. To those who paid just a little more attention he looked nervous, the hand holding the dwindling cigarette shaking slightly at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“Billy?” He could hear the sun in your voice, feel the warmth.

“Hey Princess.” He offered an easy toothy grin as if him stopping by to say a quick hello was a common occurrence.

“I knew I recognized that voice. I didn’t know you were back in town, are you visiting family?”

“I’m just here for a few days on my way through town, then I'm heading out.” Billy flicks the butt of his cigarette to ash it, the cherry burning upwards on a smoke he’s only taken one drag from.

“That’s a shame, it’d be nice having you back around. You always had a way of shaking things up.” The chime of the bell over the door alerts you to Marie before the call of your name does. “Stop in for breakfast before you go, yeah? I’m on for the next three days, all opening shifts. I’ll have our chef Sabino make you his famous peanut butter banana nut waffles.”

You pat the hood of his car a few times and bid him goodbye over your shoulder while making your way back into the well-loved diner for the rest of your shift, a skip only your coworkers would notice had been added to your step.

After two weeks had gone by, you were sure that Billy had simply come and gone, sparing a quick stop to say hi to a highschool friend before disappearing to wherever his final destination would be. The coast was your guess, somewhere quiet, but not isolated where he’d always be close to the water. He’d always loved surfing on warm days where he could relax while digging his toes into the sand and watching the waves lap at the shore on the cooler ones.

It was a short meeting but it left a lasting impression on you, memories flitting through your mind while you worked for the rest of the day.

The trailers were just coming to an end when you’d finally made your way into the theater, the opening scenes filling the screen while you balanced your popcorn, soda and candy in one hand and your purse in the other, the narrow aisles seeming smaller with every seat already full for the debut showing of Terminator 2. Even in the dim lights, it was obvious tonight was going to be a sold out show.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Every empty seat you managed to find was filled by a bag or stray sweater to signal it was being saved for a friend or already taken by someone who were making a quick dash to the concessions for a refill on popcorn and coke, having already downed theirs during the ads for upcoming movies and new products.

“I’m sorry my friend is sitting here, she just went to the bathroom.” Linda Hamilton’s voice booms on the speakers just as the girl was talking, her words hushed and nearly lost by the on screen presence, but the apologetic expression was more than enough to let you know exactly what she had said.

A shout of your name brings your attention to a row towards the back where you were surprised to see Billy waving you over, his tenor deep enough it cut through the boom of the music sequence to show you that he was pointing to where there was an empty seat next to him.

You had to squeeze past more than a few people to reach him, awkwardly shuffling sideways while being sure not to step on anyone’s toes as you made your way down the aisle to where he sat next to the seemingly only open seat left in the theater. “You always were there in my time of need, I might just start to think you’re my hero.”

“You’re here on your own?”

“Sara was supposed to get here earlier to save seats but she called last minute to cancel.” You had a sneaking suspicion that her sudden change in plans had something to do with the new coworker she’d met last month named Michael, his name had been popping up in more and more of your conversations and you knew it was only a matter of time before her work crush turned into something more. Juggling your stuff, you managed to get your sprite into the drink holder and tuck your bag underneath the seat before collapsing into it with a relieved sigh. As used to being around strangers and making pleasantries as you were from work, it was nice to settle beside someone you knew on your day off.

The movie was ok and Billy was sure he would have liked it had he gotten more of the story but his attention was divided between you and the big screen, his eyes having a hard time choosing between the fast paced action scenes up ahead and your delighted face as you crunched away on your treat. In that hour and a half, he learned a few things: you like to talk during movies, soft enough that only he could hear your whispered commentary and jokes, you alternated between salty and sweet, for every few handfuls of popcorn you would toss a mouthful of reese's pieces into your mouth for balance, and no matter how many times he declined your offer of snacks you’d always offer again a few minutes later, never content until he was eating too.

“Did you see the Hospital escape?” By time the movie had ended you’d made your way through all of your Reese’s pieces and soda but still had about half of your popcorn left, you were clutching it to you and still snacking on it as you recited the film you’d just seen back to him in a dramatic play by play. “I never saw the first one, but Sara had insisted this was going to be the ‘it’ movie of the summer. You saw the first one, right? How did this one hold up compared to it?”

Like it was a habit you’d been doing forever you leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you walk through the lobby and towards the parking lot, the tub of popcorn being shoved into his view from time to time in your never ending bid to feed whoever was around you. He tensed at the contact initially, but relaxed as you walked in stride with him, the warmth of your head against his bicep bleeding through the denim of his coat. The arm that wasn’t clutching the butter stained container to your chest looped its way around the arm you were leaning against to offer you an easier time keeping pace with him.

Outside the sun had reached the final stages of setting, the darkness crowding the streaks of crimson and orange and snuffing out the last of today to get ready for the morning to come. It was still warm, made bearable by the breeze that drifted in from the west. You walked absentmindedly with Billy to his car, side by side like no time had ever passed and waited until he was by the driver's door to hand him the rest of your salty snack before wishing him a good night.

“Hey, wait, you have a ride?” He rested against the car with one arm, the other digging into the pocket of his jacket to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

“I walked here, Sara was supposed to meet me at my apartment and we were going to head here together since my place is just around the block.” Your thumb pointed behind you to show the direction you'd be heading and to give him some reassurance that you didn't have far to go to make it home.

Billy opened his mouth to say something. He'd wanted to insist on a ride, tell you to be safe, ask if you were sure; instead he pursed his lips together and brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette and just nodded.

“I’m glad I was able to see you one more time before you left.” He wondered if you could feel the way his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his frame to give him a quick hug, thanking him for watching the movie with you, or the way it relaxed as you did that same little squeeze right before you let go to say goodbye, just as you’d done since you were kids. He thinks you did when you turned back around for another hug, a fast one, clinging to him for the briefest second almost like you were making up for the goodbye you never got to have back then.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember what it was like before, before his mom had left, before Hawkins, before the mind flayer.

You’d been together from the start from kindergarten with Mrs.Mayo, where he’d been paired with you as your walking buddy. Your school in California had been a lot different from the one in Hawkins– rows of buildings connected like a strip mall with no hallways. The school had been fenced in of course, but they had you pair up for safety anyway and when it came time to take you to the cafeteria or the play area they’d line you up and have you walk side by side.

Everyday, multiple times a day he’d find himself next to you, marching in rows to get lunch or visit the library, but he never minded, you were nice, you liked to talk and you always shared your animal crackers on the walk back from the elementary rooms to the preschool and kindergarten area.

It didn't take long for his teacher-assigned partner to become his best friend.

He’d spend recess walking on the wooden beams that lined the wood chipped area of the playground, balancing on the thin strips and pretending you were on a pirate ship and walking the plank. Billy remembered taking turns with Selena, you and Andrew on the swings, competing to see who could get the highest before jumping off and bragging that he’d be able to swing high enough that he could loop around the metal bar. He’d hog one of the swings for the entire play time trying to soar over the top but had never managed to.

Even in class you’d been together, your desks arranged into pods of four that made up the ‘blue group’ were pushed flush together, blue construction paper taped to the forward facing side with your names written in your own messy scrawls. No matter how far back he’d thought, there was never a moment you weren’t a part of, something he’d only realized after replaying your night at the movies together.

It was an easy friendship to have.

It became a hard friendship to maintain.

You weren’t oblivious, he knew you weren’t, you’d seen the change. You heard the way playground roughhousing had evolved into high school rumors of vandalism, hookups and bullying, but Billy was still Billy, at least to you and when the lunch bell rang, he'd wait around your classroom and walk side by side with you to his car where you’d pile in with a mixture of his friends and whatever girl he was with that week.

“Let’s get Jack in the Box, those tacos have been calling my name since the second period.” Sid had one arm looped around your shoulder and one around the driver's seat where he was patting Billy’s chest to emphasize his need for the fast food tacos. “I’m sure our girl here could go for some onion rings.” He jostled your shoulder knowing if anyone could sway the vote for today’s lunch excursion that it’d be you.

“Curly fries do sound really good.” His eyes were on you, visible through the rear view mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s, Billy? I’d die for a milkshake right now.” The front seat was occupied by Amanda who was using the visor’s mirror to swipe on some lip gloss.

With one hand on the wheel and the other on Amanda’s thigh, Billy backed out of his parking spot, the rubber of his wheels leaving black marks on the pavement as he peeled out “A milkshake sounds good to me.”

“Come on man, even she wanted Jack in the box.” Defeated Sid slumped into his seat, a pout on his face at the lost opportunity to fix his midday cravings.

“An apple pie sounds good, too.” Your hand found Sid’s arm to give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t want an apple pie.” Through the mirror you could still feel his gaze, heavy, intense, and entirely focused on you as the car sped down the road towards town.

At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, in his mind at least, to push you away. It’d be easier for you both if you were the one who chose to walk away, he’d had plenty of experience with that and he knew if that was how things ended, he would at least be ok.

You’d known he was going to move, a few of your friends had gotten together in the dried creek behind his house to get wasted, say goodbye with jokes and talk about how he was planning to blow that ‘Midwest shithole’ that Susan had found for them in the middle of nowhere. You’d all stayed well past the setting sun, watching the running oranges and red dampen into a star-smattered sky while passing around the cheapest bottle of vodka that Wayne had been able to get his hands on.

The burn of the cheap booze sat in your throat even after the bottle had been handed from you to Billy to Wayne then to Sid, the bitter taste masked only by the bottle of apple juice you’d been nursing on the side.

“This year is going to blow without you man. Why’d your sister have to go try and run away like that?”

“She’s just a kid.” You defended.

“She’s not my sister.” His first answer overlapped your own. “She’s not my sister.” The second a much firmer response.

“Right, sorry man. I’m just bummed you’re leaving.” Sid raised his hands in defeat and the stereo pausing before switching to the following song, Rock you like a hurricane, was like an awkward punctuation to the tense conversation.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back here the day I turn eighteen. There’s no way I’m staying in that backwoods hell.” A breeze kicked up, warm but with the barest whispers of the impending winter, and you’re hit with the scent of cigarettes, liquor and cologne.

“Hey, Billy!” A little further down the dried creek Amanda calls out, she’s got a bottle of something brown clutched in her hand and two of her friends flanking her on either side.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Billy’s grin is wolfish when he pats his leg to invite her to sit on his lap, the excuse of there being nowhere else to sit leaving his mouth before she could make her way to the over crowded couch.

Things picked up from there, a bottle being passed between friends turned into more cars pulling up and beers being handed out as people clapped Billy on the back and told them they’d miss him, plans for the following summer already being made with liquor fueled optimism.

It was around three when people begrudgingly began to make their way home, designated drivers towing their drunken friends into their cars where they’d shout a final goodbye over the idling engines and milling people to Billy who just waved them off in favor of sucking face with Amanda.

“Hey man, we’ve gotta get home. My mom gets up at five and if I’m not home she’s gonna ship me off to Indiana with you.” Wayne stood behind the couch, fingers gripping the backrest and shaking it to get the pair's attention.

“I’m a little occupied.” Amanda’s lips stayed busy against his cheek as Wayne continued to whine about Sid being too drunk to drive them home.

“School starts in a couple hours, Billy. We could really use a ride home.” He didn’t respond to you at first, instead tilting his head so Amanda could continue to lather him with attention.

“Come on man.” Wayne shook the back of the couch hard enough it rattled you as well to no response other than a middle finger in his face. “Why don’t you try, Honey? He likes you better.”

“It is getting really late, Billy, would you mind taking us home?” Billy’s head lolled to the side and for a few seconds you felt like he was scrutinizing you, his blue eyes hardened for the briefest moment before softening and ultimately shifting to annoyance.

“Let’s go.” He patted the side of Amanda’s hip to tell her to hop off. “I’ll be back, Honey, wait for me here. Let’s make this quick, I have better things to do than drive you three home.”

“Told you he’d do it if you asked.” Wayne’s breath reeked of cheap beer when he leaned in to try to whisper that to you but the words simply went in one ear and out the other, just barely registering in the back of your mind.

He’d called her Honey.

He’d called her Honey and that shouldn’t have bothered you, but it had, more than the cold shoulder he’d been giving you for the past two months. It was a sting, sharp and quick, like the jab of a needle to see how pleased he was when she smiled at the nickname he’d only ever used on you. That had been your name since you were small, it was what everyone had called you, and it had never been all that special, not until it was given to someone else.

Sid’s house was closest and it took both Wayne and Billy to nearly drag him into the house, he’d been well past drunk and found the entire thing funny as the two wrestled him into a standing position so they could get him to walk with them. Wayne was next, a lot more sober than Sid, he offered Billy an arm around the shoulder squeeze and a “Keep in touch man.” Before he was off to climb in through his window.

When he’d pulled up to your house you didn’t reach for the handle, instead turning in your seat to face him. “Did you want to-“

“I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go.” He didn't miss the way your smile faltered as he said that.

“Promise you won’t forget me in the chaos of the morning before you go?”

“I won’t forget you, I promise.” His arm twitched against the back of your headrest where it lay, the habit of you hugging him before leaving his car ingrained into him. It was a small movement unnoticed by you, but a moment of weakness to him to see that he’d been expecting, wanting, that last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Silly Billy.” The nickname got a smile out of him, the first one he’d directed at you that night

“Bye, Honey.”

The next time you see him, you had ended up missing the bus by a few minutes, the fading red of the tail lights grew dimmer as they ventured further into the night. The heavy rain obscuring them and your hope of making it home far quicker than it should have on a summer night like this. It was warm at least, so it could definitely be worse, you reassured yourself, the air stifling despite the waters rushing down your face in rivulets and drenching your uniform with each trudging step forward, it could be winter.

Home was easily more than an hour and a half walk that you weren’t willing to take at this time of night, and the diner’s doors were locked until Sabino made his way in the next morning. A hotel would be too expensive so you turn to walk towards the edge of town hoping that Marie would be home and not at her night shift at the nursing home.

“Get in.” The roar of an engine reaches you before the lights do, muted by the downpour that had left you soaked to the bone and ready to throw down the fifty dollars for the cherrywood hotel that would assure you a bed and a shower in the next few blocks, even if it would be for less than eight hours. Your body tensed for the second it took you to process that the car that had pulled to the stop beside you was the same bright blue Camaro that had left the diner a few hours before you had and once it sunk in who the furrowed brow and rumbling voice belonged to you were more than eager to climb into passenger seat and melt into the leather interior that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. “What the hell are you doing out here, you’ll get hit in this weather.”

“I missed the bus, a table of six walked in right before closing and I just got out.” Water still drips from your hair and lingeres on your lashes before splashing onto the seat belt you were strapping across your chest. “I was heading to a coworkers to see if I could spend the night.”

A cigarette stayed tucked between pinched lips while Billy exhaled a sigh,he’d gone straight to the laundromat after grabbing a burger to go and had spent the last two hours on a hard plastic chair waiting for his clothes, which were all crammed in his back seat, to be done. “I’ll give you a lift, you still staying on Lakeshore?”

“Are you sure? It’s a little out of the way.”

“I was heading that way, I’m staying with an old friend until I find a place of my own.” The key with the tag ‘Cherrywood Room 218’ was burning a hole into his back pocket at the lie.

Billy’s knuckles were white, both hands wrapped tightly on the wheel with his thumb tapping against the hard plastic, the sound of the heavy rain pounding the top of his car had muddled with his racing thoughts of what to say until it was a cacophony of white noise that spurred on his anxiety. He’d gotten this far, taken years to heal, made it back home and was seated by you. He knew what he wanted next but being here alone with you had him feeling like he had when he moved away when he was seventeen, unable to express what he was feeling. It boiled his blood to feel helpless in a situation.

“You’re staying?” Just two words, spoken in no special way, warms him, stoking a growing feeling that you’d been feeding with each interaction, with each touch and act of compassion. He knew that he had a lot to fix, and that you weren’t the answer to how he would do that, but you were an ember, crackling quietly as a source of comfort he’d never known before, creating cracks in the wall he’d hastily boarded his heart up with all those years ago when his mom had left.

“I’m sticking around for a while. This place feels like home, you know?” He’d have to break the rest down himself, take steps to the life he knew he wanted, but he had a foundation, a place that wanted him.

His grip on the wheel loosens, the tension from just minutes prior lifting with the contended hum you answered with as if you had just given him permission to allow himself to want to stay.

The drive passes quickly after that, with your head rested against the window watching the rain race against the chilled pane of glass and the both of you wrapped up in your own thoughts, neither of you seeming to realize you’d made it to your driveway until the car went from smooth cement to the crunching of your gravel driveway.

You linger in the car for a minute, your hand on the handle of the door steeling yourself to be drenched again. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m staying just a few minutes from here.” Again the key feels more present in his pocket, reminding him of the can of worms he was opening by allowing himself to take this time with you.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around, senior year just wasn’t the same without you around, I missed having you there.” The volume of the rain increases as you crack open the door. “Thanks again for taking me home, the next time you come into the diner, desserts on me.”

“Take this.” Before you’d fully opened the door Billy shrugs his coat off, the same brown leather one he’d had since you were fourteen, to hand to you, his favorite one he’d never let anyone else wear, let alone borrow before tonight. He lingered for a bit, watching you run the short distance to your front door with his coat held above your head, the leather he’d taken such care of getting drenched to spare you from getting any wetter and only backing out of the drive once he could see the light spilling from your living room as you walked into your apartment.

Any plans he’d thought of having for the following day were forgotten as he decides that pancakes sound perfect for tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Good morning and welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress today.” It was early, the gray of the sky muddling into the blue of early dawn, but you were wide awake, the smile on your face genuine as you greeted the third table of the morning.

“I was in green all day.” Jackson is already hard at work on his newest masterpiece, the blue crayon running against the paper to fill the sky like he was in a race against time to complete it.

You glanced at his grandmother for context and she explains that they had a chart for behavior, green was good, yellow was for needing a little extra direction, and red meant they'd been having a hard day.

“Well it sounds like you’ve earned yourself a treat, I'll be sure to tell our cook to make your pancakes extra special. After all, it's not often we get someone who managed to stay in green all day.” The boy beams at you, obviously enjoying the praise and the promise of an extra special breakfast for his good behavior at the daycare. He’d always been a good kid, and you were happy to celebrate that, but you were especially proud at how he’d been so excited to tell you about his accomplishments.

Helen grabs you the moment you put his order in with Sabino. “I’ve got another one for you, honey, Chelsea’s running late again.” The pause and pointed look before she said again was telling. Chelsea being on time was more unlikely than snow in December, but at least she always showed.

You could just make out the mess of blonde curls over the high back of the booth, styled to perfection but made to look effortlessly natural. “Welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I get you started with some coffee?”

Billy looked at ease, he almost always did, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and a bored look on his face. His jaw is tense, a nervous tick he remedied by placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The filter between his lips being crushed when he offered a tight lipped nod and slid the still upside down ceramic cup to you.

He could swear the sun broke through the clouds at the same time you smile, maybe even believes it only had because you did if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, dusting the gray expanse with gold to match the warmth of your grin as you rattled off the specials of the day even though you both knew he was getting the peanut butter banana nut pancake stack you’d promised at the movies.

Your pencil, a stumpy little thing just barely long enough for you to hold, had been scribbling on the notepad you carried in your apron, writing an order down he hadn't placed before you had even finished telling him about the soup of the day. “I’ll be right back with your food, Billy.”

Wafts of smoke start to lazily float up the moment you walk away, twirling in wispy gray lines before dissipating into the air. Billy isn’t sure if it’s the rush of nicotine or the comfort of routine but he can feel his muscles losing the tension he hadn’t realized they’d been holding since he walked into the diner, the simple act of doing so being a submission on his end. With all of your prior meetings being on his terms and in his places of comfort walking into a place that was so inanely you felt almost vulnerable.

Less than ten minutes had passed when you were back at his booth with a plate stacked high in one hand and a steaming mug in the other one, the look on your face is all too pleased as you set down a mountain of banana nut pancakes smothered in peanut butter and drowned in syrup. The sight of it alone is enough to make Billy’s teeth ache.

“I brought you some cocoa too.” The mug you hand to him was full to the brim almost to the point of overflowing and topped with a more than generous handful of mini marshmallows the top of which were sprinkled in cinnamon.

Exactly the way he’d taken it since you were both small and had spent your first holiday season together.

The house smelled of chocolate melting into perfectly buttery cookies, splashes of vanilla and sugar settling the house into a holiday haze. On the couch next to you Billy was curled up into himself, half of the blanket you were under was draped over him as you both nursed the cups of cocoa his mom had made you while you attempted to warm up from the day you’d spent playing outside.

On the tv a year without Santa was playing and Billy’s mom sang along to the tune of Heat Miser’s song, your own mother alongside her working on cookies for when Santa made his way here the following morning.

Billy’s attention is ripped away from the screen when he hears your mom calling a name, a name he doesn’t know, and you hop off the couch with your cocoa still in hand to go help her with the cookies.

“Your name isn’t Honey?” The revelation was clearly a shock, his eyes were large, comically so as he repeated the name to himself, your actual name feeling weird and clunky on his tongue after having known you as Honey for the past three months at school.

“You thought my name was Honey?” Billy could feel his face burn at the giggles that caused, both yourself and the two moms in the kitchen cooing over the fact that he’d been calling you Honey this whole time.

“That’s what the teacher always calls you.” He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping past his face to his ears.

“That’s silly, Billy, that’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, well…I like that name better.” He took a hasty swallow of cocoa to cover his blunder and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, the whole ordeal only bringing more attention to him.

“That’s ok, you can call me Honey.”

“Thanks Princess.”

“I'll be back in a bit to see how you’re enjoying the food.” Not if he was enjoying the food, just how he was enjoying it. Billy had been known, by those close to him, to have a notoriously big sweet tooth, he’d done well to reign it in, instead focusing on working out and keeping in shape but he’d never been able to say no to baked goods especially if it was you who was offering them.

When you make your way back around to him, coffee pot in hand to refill his cup, he’d already polished off the cocoa and a third of the pancakes.

“How’s the food?” You spare a cautious glance around to the other diners to assure they were all content before setting the pot onto the table and sliding into the seat opposite him, the worn leather making you scoot more than glide across the bench seating to be directly across from him.

You’d asked him right as he’d taken a bite of his pancakes and he did his best to say it was delicious around the mouth full of sticky cakes which only earned a laugh from you and a glare from him.

“Are you on break?” Billy takes a quick sip of the too hot coffee to help clear the food in his mouth so he could talk to you.

“Not for another few hours but I’ve checked all my tables and can spare a few minutes.” Your hand reaches across the table to steal his fork and uses it to cut a chunk of his pancakes that you steal a bite of. “We really do have the best pancakes.”

“Do you always steal your customers' food?”

“Only the ones I really like.” It was an old game between you two, shared food, stolen food, some days he’d steal your cherries and you’d take his pickles anytime his food came with them. Seeing you slip into your old role so easily brings a smile to his face.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” It slips out before he’d wanted it too, the words leaving his mouth before they get a chance to fully form in his head. He’d been wanting to ask you,in a far less crass and direct way but the question lingered in the air unable to be taken back.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah princess, a date.” It was already out there so he doubles down, layering his voice with that thick charm that he’d practiced, and perfected, over the years. Leaning in, Billy let the knuckles of his right hand brush against the top of your folded hands that were resting flat on the table, you were soft against his own battle scarred skin.

“Sure Billy, I’d love to.” It was a fast answer, instant really, an eager response and the matching grin you held on your face has him retracting his hands back to his own side, both of them landing in his lap before they slid down to his knees so he’d have a place to rest them. What did he normally do with his hands after someone had said yes? “I'm free. Friday night.”

You weren’t but nothing worth doing was going to be happening on a Wednesday evening and trading a shift to soothe the fluttering in your stomach that had been building since your first run in in the diner parking lot seemed worth it.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Are you just going to wait by the window?” You’d been hovering in Lisa’s peripheral for the last ten or so minutes, alternating between checking the window by the door and double - then triple checking that you still looked ok in the little circular mirror that was older than you were that was pinned to the wall. “You’re going to pace a hole into our carpet.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“That you’ve been on a date or that you’ve been with Billy?” You held her full attention now, Lisa’s body twisted on the couch so she could rest her torso on the arm rest and watch you with an amused gaze. The name ‘Billy’ came out in a lilting way telling you she already knew the answer to your question.

“I’ve missed him, y’know?” You wouldn’t say a piece of you had been missing, but his absence had been felt. It was felt in the way you’d hear a car peeling down the street and your head would still turn, always expecting to see the blue build of his Camaro and to this day you still get an extra cherry on your milkshakes because he’d always stolen the one off of yours for years. Having him gone was like losing your favorite sweater or chapstick, you know it’s gone yet you still find yourself searching for its comfort.

Lisa’s eyes study your face for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time but in reality had only been a few seconds before she turns back around on the couch sliding down into the divet she’d made to continue watching whatever had been holding her interest before. “Make sure he has you home before midnight.”

This time when you heard the roar of an engine pulling into the spot in front of your apartment you know that as soon as that door opened you’d find the perfectly polished metal of Billy’s 1979 Chevy and Billy himself on the other side waiting for you.

You can smell it the moment you’d climb into his car, a warm, greasy, salty scent that makes your mouth water filling the air. Nestled between your two seats you could see a white bag, still warm enough you could feel the heat radiating from it, with bold red lettering and the paper turning translucent from the grease seeping through it from the fast food inside. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Billy had his foot on the gas the moment your seatbelt clicked into place, the music turning up as he turned onto the street and began to drive you towards the edge of town.This time settling into the passenger seat felt right, like sliding on your favorite sweater that you’d worn over in time, like it was your seat again.

Small talk fills the short ride, your excitement over him being there and his slanted half smile coming easily, like no time had ever been spent apart, your comments being met with sarcastic banter and teasing remarks. The drive ended up going quickly and finishes with him pulling into the empty parking lot of a park you’d often pass by while running errands, the dark stretch of playground and grassy fields being illuminated by the pale moon overhead and the filtered yellow of the lampposts littered around the area.

The two of you sit on the play area, bypassing the splintering picnic tables to sit on the faded black plastic of the swings, the chains digging into the meat of your palms as you held onto them to help keep you in place while your legs folded in and out to get just enough momentum going for a light swing.

“This seemed so much bigger when we were younger.” You can still see his blonde curls leading the way around the playground, frizzy from playing in the hot summer sun, and still hear his voice excitedly telling you about the seven foot wave his mom had let him surf on his own over summer break.

Beside you the paper bag crinkles as Billy digs out the food he’d gotten for your date and you’re handed two tacos and a large curly fry. “Haven’t had this since junior year, there’s nothing in that shithole but cows and corn.”

“You still remember my order.” The swing drags to a stop when you push your heels into the soil and wood chips below, two deep divots forming in the material at the base of your heels as your movements halted.

You go for the curly fries first and the memories of lunch runs and late night drives hits you before the salt registers on your tongue, the way he’d always grumble about crumbs in his car negated by the salty treats he always seemed to have around for you.

Billy had always been unapologetically himself but it was only when you’d begun reminiscing on both your shared past and the years apart did you truly get to see him as he’d been in your memories, eyes bright and that deep hearty laugh of his twisting your stomach in knots that only his smile eases.

The rest of the night passes like that, stories shared between bites of food, jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as the way you two were laughing at them made them out to be and every so often his knuckles brush against your own as the swings sway with your movements. You stay in the park until what you could only guess was well past the curfew Lisa had given you, the cars having long since cleared the road.

It wasn’t until his car pulls into your parking lot that he kisses you, there was lull in conversation as you sat in the passenger seat with neither of you in a rush for the night to truly be over. You’d just finished telling him a story about graduation and how Sid and Wayne had almost made you miss your turn to walk and you have the biggest smile on your face.

You were always smiling, sure in him as a person in a way it took life-altering events for him to be in himself, even now as his fingers hesitated moving gently against the swell of your cheek. He’d been good at this before, it came naturally to him; a flash of a smile, a compliment here, a light touch there and whoever he was with was putty.

When his lips brushed against yours it was light, a soft glide of his lips that made your lips tingle. The initial kiss was enough to make him hungry for more, his own slightly chapped lips pressing against your own more eagerly, the hand that was just barely ghosting against your skin now cradled your face, holding it firmly to keep you in place as his lips moved against your own. The kiss had a sense of urgency to it, longing and needy but with no end goal in mind, he took and you were happy to give.

You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted,was it a long kiss? Short? Time had slipped away, moving around the two of you, just for this one moment, the moment everyone but the two of you had seen coming since fall of ‘72 when you’d intertwined your little hands for the first time and instantly bonded.

Billy broke away first, his lips kiss swollen and slick, but he remained close, his half lidded eyes, normally so icy and sharp had warmed to a softer shade of blue as they stayed level with your own, drinking in your own dazed but entirely pleased expression and only darting down to watch the way you bit the corner of your lip, chewing on it with a giddy smile.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that, your genuine response simple but so endearing, that same sunshine bright smile on your face as he laughed at your awe-struck answer to your very first kiss together.

“Wow?” He was sure you would be able to warm up even the dreariest of Hawkins winters with the way you were looking at him, eye bright and taking him in like he was the one who could thaw a cold Midwest January day with just a look.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that since you drove me home back in August.” There was a breathlessness to your voice with the kiss itself not being too heated, but the thrill of how perfect it felt to have him mould against you stealing the air from your lungs all the same.

You would have stayed there all night if you hadn’t had a shift the following morning but the late hour didn't stop you from stealing one more quick kiss before bidding him good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning Honey.” This time as you climb out of the car and he promises to see you the following morning you know he’ll be there.

Special thanks to so many people first @jo-harrington who is the reason I wrote this. @the-unforgivenn who has read this enough times im sure she could recite it by memory. @ghost-proofbaby @hellfire--cult (who also made the amazing banner and divider) @munson-blurbs @dr-aculaaa who all helped plot and cheer me on every step of the way. I’m so appreciative of you all 💕

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #i honestly consider this my first full real fic #i hope you guys like it

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tiedyeflannels · 6 months

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Converse High

Min Yoongi x reader

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

A/N: Hi! Not sure what to put here, but I did want to thank @maple-leaves-in-the-wind for kind of helping me with the plot. Love ya <3 Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fic!

"This song was actually inspired by someone that Suga met one day at a convenience store,” Namjoon said.

The boys were doing some promotion of their new album The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1 at a radio station, when one of the hosts asked what made them come up with lyrics in ‘Converse High’.

“Yeah, I went to a convenience store near our dorm late at night because I was hungry and wanted something to eat, so I bought some ramen. There was this girl wearing red high tops, heating up her food, but the other microwaves were out of order so I had to wait until she was done so I could heat up mine. She must’ve known that I was behind her waiting because she asked if I wanted her to heat mine up too since she was already there,” he laughed at the memory.

He continued, “She was really cool and even gave me her secret ramen recipe that tasted really good.”

“So, thank you Suga’s mystery girl, for inspiring him and the hyungs to write this song,” Jimin said, looking into the camera.

“Did you ever get her name, hyung,” Namjoon asked, turning over to Yoongi.

Yoongi thought for a moment, then chuckled. “You know, I don’t think I ever thought to ask.”

Why did this have to happen today?

I internally kicked myself for not realizing what we were supposed to be doing today. I continued to run through the park, dodging random passersby and the occasional low hanging tree branch before I made it to where the rest of the crew was set up.

The boys were filming a RUN BTS episode today that we were supposed to come early to help set up, but thanks to my faulty alarm and the fact that I didn’t have it on my schedule because we were constantly reminded of it, I totally forgot.

I eventually set my stuff down and quietly walked over to Yumi and started to take out my camera.

“What happened? Why are you so late,” she whispered, not wanting to have the camera pick it up even though we weren’t the ones who were wearing mic packs.

“Everyone thought you were dealing with a hangover for how late you are!”

“I know,” I whispered back, making sure my camera was in working condition. “But one, everyone should know that I rarely drink and two, I didn’t think that I needed to put it on my schedule because we were constantly getting reminded of it, but I guess I was wrong.”

I snapped a couple of test pictures of the boys to make sure that everything was working fine before looking over a Yumi.

“Why didn’t you set an alarm, I literally texted you about this last night so you didn’t forget,” she deadpanned.

“I did set an alarm, but it didn’t go off so I guess I got to sleep in,” I quietly chuckled, scratching the back of my neck.

Yumi smiled and shook her head, “You, my dear, are going to get in so much trouble.”

I groaned, “Please don’t remind me. I’m still trying to get over the lecture the director gave me last time I was late to a RUN shoot.”

I really need to start putting things in my schedule. Not only did I receive a massive lecture from the director telling me how irresponsible I was, I didn’t get to eat any of the snacks that were laid out for staff as punishment for not helping.

It didn’t help that I didn’t get anything to eat on the way out of my house because I was too focused on making it here at a reasonable time, so I was basically running on nothing and the snacks were looking REALLY good right now, but as my stomach growled I sighed and walked away, not wanting to torture myself anymore.

“Alright everyone, let’s get back to filming,” the director said, looking around to make sure everyone was ready.

Since we were filming this RUN BTS episode at a carnival, everyone got their own camera person and because of that, the rest of the crew- including Yumi and I- got to roam around and take pictures.

“So, we get to do whatever,” Hobi excitedly asked.

The director nodded and the boys started cheering. Their little celebration was cut a little short when the director spoke up.

“But, this is still a competition and there is a spy. You guys are going to have to figure out who the spy is by the end of the day in order to win, if you don’t, then the spy will win.”

The guys simultaneously groaned and then started eyeing each other. The director continued to explain some of the rules, stating that everyone will be playing the games as normal.

“With that being said, you are free to do whatever you please.”

The guys made a run for any games they can get to the fastest. A couple of them went to the same game and started yelling at each other to go to a different game. The staff chuckled at their competitiveness, then started to part ways to record each of the boys.

Recording lasted about 3 hours and it was safe to say… I’m about ready to pass out.

Half way through the shoot, I had bought some mini donuts, but it was not filling and it made me feel a bit sluggish. Shooting had concluded and revealed Jungkook as the spy, much to everyone’s surprise and then the crew wrapped up.

We were told that the carnival would be open for staff and the members if they wanted to go around and spend time together. Naturally, when we were told that, I immediately thought about leaving to find the nearest convenience store for some kind of food, but Yumi had to pull me from my thoughts.

“Y/n! We should go play something! How about darts,” she asked as she started tugging me over to the stall.

I groaned.

“No, I’m really hungry and nothing here is filling. I’ve got to get something in me before I, either, die of starvation or simply pass out from low blood sugar,” I said as I tried to get out of her grasp.

She sighed, letting go of my hand and placing them out her hips. “Come on Y/n, just play one game with me and then I’ll let you go. You never know when you’re gonna get to go to the carnival again.”

I mirrored her actions and put my hand on my hips. “First of all, this carnival is going to be open tomorrow too, so we can go then,” I said, and she nodded in acknowledgement, “and second, you can get someone else to play with you. I promise I’ll play all the games you want tomorrow, okay?”

She paused for a moment before letting her hands fall to her sides and sighed.

“Okay… BUT! You’re gonna pay for my food AND we get on some of the rides too. Deal?”

She held out her pinky toward me. I playfully rolled my eyes and linked my pinky with her’s securing the promise.

“Deal! Now, I’m gonna go before I land face first into this dirt,” I said, walking away while waving to her.

She waved back and went over to some of the other staff standing by a booth. I walked over to where the camera crew was now disassembling their equipment and once I got to my bag, I started carefully taking apart my camera.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath as I looked over to the microwaves and saw that all but one were ‘out of order’ and the guy using it looked like he was going to be there for a while.

Just my luck, huh?

I shook my head and sighed, but went to pick out my food while I waited for the microwave to be available. Walking through the aisles, looking for my ramen, and happily grabbing it when I found it, then walking over to the rows of coolers to get a drink.

I walked over to the counter and paid for my food, then headed back to the microwaves. Luckily the guy from before was done heating up all his food and now it was my turn.

I peeled the top of the ramen container back and walked over to put some water in it from the drinking fountain next to the microwaves. Once I was done putting in the water, I moved back to the microwaves and started to heat up my ramen.

While I was waiting there, I heard the quiet shuffling of feet behind me followed by a sigh. I looked into one of the microwaves and saw Yoongi standing behind me.

I quietly chuckled and said, “Would you like me to heat yours up too?”

I heard a confused “huh?” and turned around to greet Yoongi, bowing slightly.

He returned the bow with the confused look still written all over his face. “How did you know that I was behind you?”

A smirk grew onto my face, “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

The confusion grew deeper as his eyebrows furrowed ever more.

At this point I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “I’m kidding, I heard feet shuffling behind me and I could see your reflection in the microwaves,” I said slightly turning toward the microwaves to point at them.

He slowly nodded at my explanation. The microwave beeped, letting me know that my food was ready. I pulled out my food, setting it off to the side before I turned back to Yoongi.

“Going back to what I said earlier, would you like me to heat that up for you too?”

“Oh! Yes please.”

I took the cup of ramen from him and put it into the microwave, putting in the recommended amount of time and then pressing start.

“So… what brings you here? I would’ve thought that you would be with the others right now at the carnival,” I said, leaning against the counter and stirring my ramen with some chopsticks that were nearby.

He shrugged, “Well, Taehyung was trying to drag me to one of the rides, but I played the “I don’t feel good” card and no more questions were asked.”

Humming in response, I took a bite of my ramen. As I stirred my ramen ready to take another bite, the microwave beeped signaling that the food was ready.

Yoongi moved to open the microwave as I grabbed some chopsticks to hand to him, earning a quiet “thank you” before he started mixing his food. Still leaning against the counter, I watched as he walked over to the condiments bar and started to dig around in the cooler.

He proceeded to take out a slice of cheese and put it on his ramen, closing the lid.

Huh. That’s interesting…

“Would you like to sit with me? It’d be nice to have some company,” I asked as I walked to a table near a window overlooking the street.

“Sure,” he said as he walked over to the table, taking the seat across from me.

I continued to eat my ramen as he stirred his and I couldn’t stop the question rolling off my tongue, “Did you come up with that?”

He looked up from his food and I pointed to noodles that had strings of cheese hanging on them. “Hmm? Oh, you mean adding cheese to ramen?”

I nodded.

He looked down at his food, “Nope, someone taught it to me a few years back. I thought it tasted really good so I’ve been eating it like this ever since.” I nodded and went back to eating.

We quietly ate for a while which allowed me to finish my meal, setting it aside and reaching to pull out my phone from my back pocket until Yoongi spoke up.

“What about you? Do you put anything special in your ramen,” he asked before slurping down the rest of the noodles.

I hummed, “Coincidentally, I put cheese in my ramen too, but it’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid. I used to call it my ‘secret recipe’.”

“Wait…”

I was a little confused at his reaction and even more so when his face lit up like a light bulb just went off in his head.

“Do you remember if you taught someone this secret recipe of yours a few years back,” he asked slowly.

Tilting my head and humming I tried to think back. “Um, I’d like to say I did, but I tend to forget things pretty easily so it’s a little hard to say. Why?”

“Because I don’t think this ‘coincident’ is a coincidence at all. I’ve been having a weird sense of deja vu since you asked me that question at the microwaves,” he looked at me while I was still confused.

I shook my head lightly, trying to wrap my head around this. “Wait, so we’ve met before?”

He nodded as a small smile started to form on his lips.

“Then how come I don’t remember you? I feel like I would’ve,” I said, brows furrowing.

“Well, we had that run in back in 2015, so it makes sense that we wouldn’t recognize each other after 3 years. Plus, we weren’t that big in 2015 which also makes sense why you didn’t recognize me back then.”

Nodding, I hummed, taking all of this in. No wonder I thought it was interesting when I saw him add cheese to his ramen.

Now that I thought about it a little more it should’ve tipped me off that we might've met before when I noticed him adding cheese to his ramen since I really only teach that to a select few.

“I have to say… it’s pretty cool that you still remember that day,” I said with a smile starting to form on my face.

“How could I not! Because of that little interaction, we were inspired to make a song,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

If I had something in my mouth at this exact time, I surely would've spit it out right now after the sudden epiphany I had hearing that statement.

“WAIT A SECOND! I’m ‘the girl from the convenience store’ that inspired you to write Converse High?!” I was quite literally at the edge of my seat as I leaned further over the table.

He was a little surprised at my reaction, but then looked to the side with a hint of a smile. “Well yeah, you kind of left a lasting impression with your ‘secret recipe’ and those red converse you wore.”

I chuckled at the thought of my converse leaving a lasting impression on someone so much so that they would write a song.

It was his time to lean forward, putting his elbows on the table and squinting his eyes just a bit, “How did you know that you were the girl that inspired Converse High?”

He dramatically gasped, putting a hand on his chest, “Were you secretly a fan back then and were just faking it to get close to me?”

I snorted and waved him off, “Please, I barely knew who BTS was back then so don’t flatter yourself too much, Min Yoongi.”

A slight frown appeared on his face, leaning back with his cross once again, "And the reason I know about the inspiration behind Converse High is because when I was doing research on what group Big Hit managed when I applied as a photographer, so I happened to come across a certain video of BTS at a radio station talking about the song.”

“I just didn’t think that your ‘mystery girl’ would have been me,” I said with a shrug, leaning back and crossing my arms, almost mirroring Yoongi, but he seemed a bit taken aback from the mention of “his mystery girl”.

He lightly scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I might’ve talked about you a little too much in the dorms and that caused Jimin to think that I had a crush on you,” he rolled his eyes at how ridiculous Jimin’s thought was.

“In reality, I thought you were really cool and I was a little sad that I didn’t get your name because I wanted to get to know more about you. I remember the rest of the members scolding me for not asking your name”

I giggled, the smile staying on my lips, “I thought you were pretty cool too, you know. Back then, I mean. I would’ve loved to get to know you more too.”

“Maybe it’s not too late. If you want, we could get to know each other over some coffee tomorrow?”

It was my turn to be dramatic, gasping and placing a hand on my chest. “Is THE Min Yoongi asking me out to coffee?!”

He chuckled at my overdramatic question, but nodded.

“I would love to! Oh, we would have to get coffee sometime during the day, though, because I promised Yumi that I would go to the carnival with her tomorrow night. But it’s nothing official, so you can join if you want. We could just hang out,” I said.

He put his hand to his chin, as if in thought, “Sure I don’t see why not.”

I scoffed, shaking my head as a smile grew on my face.

“Great, then it’s a date!”

He started to mirror my smile, “Great, I can’t wait, uh…”

My smile instantly fell. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know my name? I’ve been working with you for years!”

He laughed, “Of course I do, but just humor me this once. I’m trying to right a past wrong, ok?”

I lightly shook my head.

“Fine.” I sighed, sticking out my hand toward him with a warm smile, “Y/n. Nice to meet you!”

He reached over and took my hand in his, “Nice to meet you too, I’m Yoongi.”

#bts x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts fic #bts x you #bts fanfic

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seabreeze1969 · 8 days

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Strawberry Pancakes

Summary: Gator Tillman meets OC stripper. She is reluctant to give him a dance, but ends up enjoying it a little too much. He is more than happy to break some rules with her.

Tags/Warnings: strippers, thigh riding, lap dance, power dynamics, paid intimacy, dirty talk, teasing

Chapter One

~Gator

It was the second Friday of May. Every other Friday he found himself sitting in the back of The Tender Trap, a local strip club, with an envelope in his pocket as he waited for a militia man to collect the hefty support of Sheriff Roy Tillman, his father. It was an easy job. That’s why his father gave it to him. At least it was supposed to be easy. But things never came easy to Gator.

As his lazy gaze glossed around the small club, his heart caught in his throat. He wasn’t met with Roxy or Crystal, the usual dancers who would throw him winks every now and again. He saw a young woman he’d never seen before. He was sure if she had been there any of the other Fridays he would’ve known.

Her legs were toned, but covered in stockings forcing him to imagine the bare skin underneath. As his gaze slithered further up skipping over her bare stomach to her breasts he started to feel his pants tighten. The white laced cups pushed up her small tits and had them spilling out over the low top. And finally he reached her face. Her bouncy brown curls framed her soft face, and he couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open as he caught her big doe eyes.

He knew he must’ve looked like a moron sitting there with his jaw on the floor, but he couldn’t help himself. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in person. Something straight off of one of those raunchy old bikini posters he tacked behind his bed.

Before he could stop himself his feet carried him over to the seats closest to the stage where she was entertaining two other men. The closer he got the more her eyes narrowed at him and she suddenly seemed familiar, “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the doc’s kiddo? Miss Grey?” He’d seen her only a couple times when he had to visit the local clinic after a job went sideways, and she looked vastly different in layers of clothes and thick rimmed glasses. But she had given him that same narrow look.

“No, sir,” she shook her head, her full lips turning into a pout, “My name is Candy.”

“Hah, yeah sure it is,” he huffed a laugh, “Anyways, aren’t you a little too smart to be dancing around half naked?”

And then it was her turn to laugh, “If smarts had anything to do with it you’d be the one in heels up here, sheriff.”

“Ouch, sour Candy. You trying to hurt my feelings, girl?” Gator mocked hurt feelings, putting his hand over his heart.

“Were you trying to hurt mine?” She shot back.

“No. How about you make it up to me with a dance?”

“Aren’t you on duty?”

“Nah, I just dress like this for fun,” he hooked his thumbs into the bulky sheriff’s vest, showing it off.

“Won’t it be a bad look for your father?” It was true his father’s election was going to be up soon.

“He’ll be alright. You running out of excuses?” Gator checked.

“I could just say ‘no.’ If you don’t want to take a hint,” she condescended, and that just made him want her all the more. No way in hell was she gonna say ‘no’ to him. He had all the power he needed in the envelope, who would even notice if a couple of the hundreds were missing? Taking less than a second to decide he pulled out the envelope and started counting out the hundred dollar bills that he definitely should not be spending at a strip club.

“Are you deaf? Or just dumb?” Candy frowned, but as he continued to count them she changed her tune, “Holy smokes, where’d you get all that?”

He waved three hundreds at her, “How bout that dance?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling with the decision, but then she nodded in defeat, “Let’s go.” She hopped off the stage, and took his hand in her own. Her hand was trembling, until she squeezed him a little harder, and he pretended not to notice it. Pretended he was far too preoccupied with the way her ass swayed back and forth in her little white lace underwear.

In the private room there was one lone chair in the center with dark velvet couches surrounding it. As she stepped into the room her white undergarments turned dark red with the lights. She led him to the chair in the center of the room, shoving him down roughly. He made a show of it for her, collapsing into the chair even though he was barely moved from her hands pushing his chest, “Take it easy, baby.”

She ignored him, sliding her hands across his chest into his leather jacket, to slip it off, taking his vest with it. She hooked it on the back of the chair, which still left him in his bulky hoodie.

“That’s more like it, sweetheart,” he grinned as she walked in front of him again. He drank her in once again now that he had her all to himself. Her slim ankles wrapped in the white plastic straps of the clear high heels that were giving her an extra half foot at least. She looked a little unsteady as his gaze raked up the stockings, lingering on the smooth bare skin of her upper thigh. He imagined for a moment how her legs would wrap around him, how he’d grip her hips. The swell of her hips was accentuated as she took a small step toward him, shifting her weight. As his eyes moved up he found her chest rising and falling in quick breathes, her breasts spilling out of the wired corset cups on every intake. Her blush went all the way down her neck, and when his gaze flickered up to her eyes she cast hers to the floor.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he admonished half-heartedly, pleased with her little show of innocence. It was charming.

She took another deep breath, drawing his attention back down to her breasts once again, and unballed her fists, starting to undo the bottom of her corset top. He watched her struggle with the little wire clasps that ran up the front for a long minute before he finally huffed a little laugh, “You need a hand?”

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and he wondered if it was more than just a show. Then she frowned and gritted, “Shut up.” And he knew it wasn’t. And that made his cock twitch in his pants. She finally got all the clasps undone and then tossed the offending garment on the couch beside her, unable to hide her pride at getting the damned thing off. She locked her arms in front of her, covering up her exposed nipples. He barely caught a glimpse of the pink skin. And then she seemed to realize what she had done and forced her arms behind her back, sticking out her chest.

“I’ve never done this before,” she finally confessed, but he had gathered that.

“I can tell,” he chuckled, “This might be the worst strip dance I’ve ever seen.”

That seemed to set something off in her. He was good at setting people off. Her cheeks were puffed out in anger as she slowly sank down to her knees, not bothering to hide her disgust at the old tile floors. And then she crawled on her hands and knees to him, swaying her hips and holding his stare like it was a challenge. He kicked his boots out on either side of him, making room for her between his thighs. Then he locked his fingers behind his head and reclined a little, the picture of unbothered, indifferent to her. And he saw exactly what he wanted. That angry determination swirling in those narrowed eyes as she let her cheek rest on his inner thigh.

She ran her hands up his shins, to the expanse of his muscular thighs. He felt the heat of her palm reach the bulge of his hardening cock, straining under his cargo pants. Her brow went up in accusation, “For the worst dance you’ve ever had, you seem to be enjoying it.”

“I’m easy,” he shrugged. Then her tongue was licking a stripe over the outline of his dick and his mouth fell open as he was unable to maintain his cool attitude toward the half naked woman between his legs. That had to be against the rules.

Before he could recover she was swinging her hips to the low vibrations of the bass that penetrated the room. She came up to her full height, giving him an eyeful of her breasts, making his mouth start salivating. Maybe he had just fallen for an act of innocence. Massaged them in his face, letting her head roll back as she let a small moan slip past her lips. His hands were moving on their own, in an attempt to assist her, when she slapped them away, “Hands by your side, deputy, or I’ll use your stupid cuffs on you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled out slow, gripping the sides of the chair to keep them there, but her threat just turned him on even more. Having her handcuff him sounded like a damn good time to him.

She swung one leg over his so her back was to him, and crawled down the slope of his leg, leaving her ass high in the air, and his hands squeezing the sides of the chair as she bounced a little on his leg. And then in time with music she was snapping back to sitting upright and grinding her hips just an inch above his thigh, letting him see that she was actually getting wet. Then she stepped out again, twisting to face him and kicked one of his boots so his legs came together before she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with his hair just enough to make his head lull back and seek her fingers. He hadn’t felt a touch like that in years, something intimate and gentle. Hell, if he knew a strip dance felt this good he would’ve started skimming money a long time ago, but he had a feeling it was just her making him feel this way.

She bit her lip, trying to contain a grin, and he felt like he was losing the game he had set up. But she made losing feel good.

Then the song switched from fast paced to a slow jam and she lit up, standing to dance in front of him once again. She was familiar with the song, mouthing the words as she ran her hands up her body and tangled them in her hair the way his hands wanted to. While she mouthed the explicit lyrics, he imagined her in his ear whispering filth only he would ever hear.

Her body rolled in time with the slow beat and she ran her hand down between her breasts, over her flat stomach and dipped between her legs for just a second before she pulled her hand back and ran her tongue over them, her tongue that was nearly on his dick when he had ticked her off. “You want a taste?” she asked, tilting her head curiously, and only then had he noticed his mouth had fallen open in want. He only nodded, sticking his tongue out as she stepped closer to him again with her outstretched hand. Her fingers were glossy from her spit as she brushed them gently over his upper lip, avoiding his tongue, and then pulled back, leaving him running his tongue along his lip trying to taste her. He thought maybe she was wearing some kind of strawberry chapstick as he savored a distant artificial sweetness.

He hummed his approval, and when he caught her eye again her pupils were blown wide. He could nearly see himself reflected in them. He was in a similar state. And then she stepped one leg between his and slowly lowered her hips onto his thigh, grinding on him in time with the music. Her skin was hot, like her entire body was blushing. It gave him goosebumps under his jacket where her warmth couldn’t reach.

And then she made a noise in the back of her throat that had him choking on the air in the room, which was suffocating him with a palpable heat. It wasn’t an over the top moan like from the porn he usually watched, it was a whine she had tried to hide but it slipped past her lips anyways. It was the sexiest thing he had ever heard in his life.

She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically, “Hah, sorry.” And the weight of her lifted up, before his hands flew out to stop her.

“No, don’t stop,” he lifted his knee in a jerk response, applying more pressure to her clit. He pulled and pushed her waist back and forth over his thigh, making her breath quicken. She was so sensitive, shaking like a leaf as he pushed his thigh up hard against her, with intention. He wanted to give her that friction which clearly affected her. His eyes traveled down her body to find a wet spot on his camouflage, “Gonna make a mess on my trousers, girl.”

She looked away in embarrassment as he looked up at her in awe. Her lower lip trembled as he leaned forward, bringing his hand to cradle her cheek. He was completely entranced in her glowing red face. He wanted to stop the anxious tremble of her lip, soothe her embarrassment away however he could. But he found no words, instead leaning in, and letting his eyes slip closed as he brushed his thumb down her bottom lip. He could feel her sharp intake of breath nearly against his mouth. He can’t remember wanting something as simple as a kiss with such an intensity before.

She shoved at his chest and stumbled backwards, catching herself on the edge of the couch. His head was spinning from the whiplash as he watched her catch her breath moving as far away from him as the couch would allow.

“No kissing the clients,” she finally spoke after a few beats of heavy breathing.

“No? Just everything else?” He joked a little, trying to recover his own breathing and will his raging erection to go away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she started clipping the corset back on.

He stood and slid back into his leather jacket and vest, slicking his hair back which had gotten a little disheveled when she played with it earlier. Then she awkwardly put her hand out and he remembered what he had promised her for such a nice private dance and handed her three hundred, “That’s some technique for your first time.”

“I’m a quick learner,” she nodded, gripping the cash like he was going to snatch it back from her and run. She led him back out into the main room without so much as looking at him and then ran back to the locker rooms, still a little unsteady as his eyes followed her out.

“I’ve been waiting out here for nearly a half hour,” complained Henry, getting up from the bar when he saw Gator. He barely understood the words, too busy thinking about how there was no way in hell he could wait another two weeks to see her again. She gave him a high he knew he’d be hooked on until the day he died. He figured he’d be a married man and still jerk off to her.

“Boy! You hear me? When your daddy hears about you fucking around--” Henry started to threaten, finally pulling Gator’s attention away from the girl. The shove of the white envelope into Henry’s chest cut him off.

“My daddy ain’t gonna hear about it, unless you want me burning this money up and telling him you fucking backward ass hillbillies lost it,” he said it softly with a half smile, contrasting the shouting of the older man who got even angrier as he lost his power.

“We’ll see about that. Don’t make me wait while you’re getting your dick sucked. If you’re daddy don’t make you answer to him. I’ll make you answer to me. Understand, son?”

“Maybe if your wife was better at it you wouldn’t have had to wait so long,” Gator leaned into the man, his hand hovering over the gun in his thigh holster.

“Alright, your time's coming, boy. Your time’s coming.”

“Whatever you say, Henry,” Gator grinned at him, “I’ll see you later.” He waved himself out and hopped into his truck.

He reached for his vape in his pocket, taking a long drag reigniting the buzz in his head that was worked up in the back room of The Tender Trap. He was trying to remember the way her face looked when she moaned, but his memories weren’t coming out right. He needed to see her again. And soon enough he was hard again as he drove back to the Tillman Ranch. The road was lonely and dark that night as he started to touch himself.

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laundrybiscuits · 8 months

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(soulmates AU: Part 1 | Part 2)

“You know,” says Jonathan. “Nancy’s parents are soulmates.”

Steve hadn’t known that, but he knows it’s supposed to run in families. Even though it’s also pretty normal for soulmarks to crop up for no reason anyone can tell, his own had been a big surprise, because everyone knows that John and Linda Harrington aren’t soulmates.

The night after his soulmark had appeared, he’d woken up around midnight. He couldn’t figure out what had woken him up for a while, but as he lay there in the dark, he could hear his dad’s voice coming up through the floors. His mom and dad must have been in the study, right below Steve’s bedroom, and his dad must’ve been pretty worked up by that point to be that loud.

For god’s sake, John, Steve’s mom had hissed, quieter but still clear enough in the dead suburban night. He’s the spitting image of you. I don’t know what kind of proof you—

John and Linda Harrington aren’t soulmates. They can’t ever really relax around each other, because there’s no guarantee that something better won’t come along for either of them, and they both know it.

Steve had tilted his own wrist so he could see the pretty, confident hand of a girl he’d never met, and felt so glad that he’d never have to worry like that.

“Must be nice,” is all he says to Jonathan, now.

“Sure, maybe,” says Jonathan. “Don’t know if she sees it that way.”

He asks Robin about her parents later. He’s only met Mr. and Mrs. Buckley a couple times, but they seem to get along okay.

Robin makes a face. “God, they’re so weird about it. They never got any real names—like, names never appeared by themselves, but they decided to get tattoos when they got married. The artist had them sign like five million disclaimer forms and still did it in red ink so nobody would get it confused for the real thing, but they don’t even care. It’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says.

He thinks about it later, though, and decides it doesn’t seem all that embarrassing to him. It’s not as good as a real name, of course, but maybe it’s the next best thing. At least it’s some kind of permanent mark, so even if things go south, you’ll always have part of that person as part of you too. The kind of thing that can’t be erased, just covered over.

———

Steve doesn’t ask about the blob on Eddie’s wrist. Not asking basically becomes a hobby for him. Steve drops by after going to see Max two or three times a week, and he doesn’t ask. Steve helps Wayne load Eddie into the car to the brand new Nancy-approved duplex, and he doesn’t ask. Steve stops by with a casserole from the Hendersons, and he stays to help eat it, and he doesn’t ask.

Finally, Eddie chucks a potato chip at the side of Steve’s face and groans, “Just fucking ask, dude.”

Steve eats the potato chip, even though it’s sour cream and onion, and says unconvincingly: “Ask what?”

Eddie tips his head back over the arm of the couch and levels an unimpressed stare at Steve.

“Okay, fine,” Steve relents. “Tell me about your stupid name, I guess. Do I know her?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know. Doesn’t matter. I knew pretty early on that I didn’t want anything to do with that shit, so I covered it up the day I got it. If I could’ve stopped myself from seeing anything at all, I would’ve.”

“Wait, you covered it up? Like, did the tattoo yourself?”

“Sure. I mean, I had to fix it up later, it was my first stick-and-poke and it was pretty rough. For a while, you could still kinda make out most of the letters. Hurt like a bitch, though.”

“Jesus.” Steve leans back on his elbows, sprawling out over the rug. “I don’t get you at all, man.”

Eddie hums a little, drums his fingertips over his own jaw.

“What do you want?” he says abruptly. “Like, in life. Generally. What is it that Steve Harrington actually wants from the future?”

Steve puts another gross sour cream potato chip on his tongue and crunches down.

“Shit, I dunno. What does anyone want? A house, a family. The usual stuff.”

Eddie taps his nose with one bony index finger and jabs the other at Steve. “Bullseye, right there. The difference between you and me.”

“What, you don’t want any of that? Too normal for you?” Steve snorts.

Eddie groans and rolls sideways off the couch, landing on the rug next to Steve. He props himself up on his elbows. “It’s not about the actual stuff, Harrington. House and family doesn’t…” He hesitates, ducking his head so his hair tumbles over his face a little. “It doesn’t actually sound so bad to me, y’know? But I’d throw myself off a fucking cliff before I answered a question like that with what does anyone want.”

“Okay, if you’re so super-evolved or whatever, what does Eddie Munson want?”

Eddie grins up at Steve. It’s a little lopsided because of the shiny pink scar on his cheek. It’ll probably be lopsided for the rest of his life. Even back when they’d been making plans to buy guns and steal an RV, Steve remembers Eddie’s smile looking just plain happy, like a kid. Now it’ll always look like he’s got a secret he isn’t telling you.

“So, so many things,” says Eddie. “Most of all, though, Eddie Munson wants the freedom to make his own mistakes.”

Steve still doesn’t get it, but he’s starting to think there’s a lot of things he doesn’t really get about how other people see soulmarks. Most people seem to think just like Steve does, of course; there wouldn’t be so many songs and movies and stuff about it otherwise.

Talking to Eddie like this, though, is starting to make Steve feel like he's staring out into the dark, knowing there's something else beyond the porchlights but not even being able to see the shape of it.

He leans back, closing his eyes. Some guitar is wailing away from the boombox under the kind of vocals that always set Steve on edge; they’re too yelping and strained, like you can hear the singer’s vocal cords getting wrecked in real time as he yowls: man you’re dying—for what you’ve lost but never had—

It’s annoying, that’s all.

#not!soulmates AU #I actually quite like sour cream and onion ftr #idk why I've been writing almost nothing for months and then this unmarketable ridiculousness has just poured out of me #but here we are!#lyrics from Accept's Losing More Than You've Ever Had that I rejected for being too obvious include:#it's been a long time since you've lost her heart #man stop longing for the girl you made so sad

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justfandomwritings · 2 years

Text

The Only Thing (Hangman - Part 1)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Female!Reader; some Rooster x Seresin!OC if you squint.

Word Count: 9.1k

Summary: Jake's family refuses to call him Hangman. In no small part because they know that's not who he is. They've seen him help people, save people, love people... Well... Her. They've seen him do anything and everything for her. Because it will always be her.

Warnings: One mention of an abusive parent, but no description whatsoever. Objectively excessive amounts of pining. Also Christmas is featured, but it's in a very non-religious celebratory way.

Notes: This IS a Jake Seresin x reader fic, but it is actually told from Rooster's POV. So generally a lot of Found Family vibes on Rooster's end. But it doesn't negate the fact that it's mainly Jake's story.

The Only Thing Masterlist

“Seriously Hangman, fuck you! We’re supposed to be a fucking team!” Phoenix spat the words in his face. She was waiting for him on the ground the second he’d exited his plane, having been ‘shot down’ and landed long before him when he hung her out to dry.

She should’ve expected it, should’ve known what he was going to do. His reputation preceded him. There was a reason his class had named him the Hangman. There was a reason people whispered Bagman behind his back.

Still, she’d assumed he was just an asshole talking a big game on the ground, or at least that he was less of an asshole when lives were at stake. Phoenix knew for a fact no one had ever died while in his squad. His famous air-to-air kill had saved the lives of three of his men – supposedly at great personal risk, but that was just a rumor. She always assumed his reputation must’ve been built on his attitude problem more than his character.

Clearly, she was wrong. Hangman hopped out of the plane and walked passed her. He didn’t even say a word to her. Coyote, along with Harvard and Yale, was making his way to the planes, and Hangman clapped him on the back as they passed each other on the tarmac.

It was like it was a typical Monday, like he hadn’t just gotten her and Bob killed.

Phoenix glared at Hangman’s back with an appalled expression. “Seriously?” She shouted, “Is there anything you care about beside yourself?”

Hangman glanced back over his shoulder with his usual amused expression and shrugged, “Addie maybe, but she’s probably it.”

“Who the fuck is Addie?”

Coyote making his way to the plane next to Phoenix, answered for Hangman who’d already started jogging towards Hondo for pushup duty, “That’s Hangman’s prop plane. Keeps it in the hangar at the civilian airport.”

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“So this is the famous Addie.” Rooster slapped the side of the plane appreciatively. He could see why Hangman liked her so much. She was a beauty, a few years past her prime but meticulously maintained.

“That it is.” Hangman absently agreed as he made his last checks to the logs.

“Did you buy her new?” Rooster asked, gently running a hand over the propeller blade as he made one last pass around the outside of the plane.

Hangman shook his head, closing the books before finally turning his attention to Rooster. “Nah, I saved it from some cheap asshole who didn’t know what he had. Pieced it back together with some help from a mechanic friend. Took about five years to get it airworthy again, but it was worth every minute.”

“She can make it all the way to Texas?”

Hangman rolled his eyes at Rooster. “It can go as long as I can, Rooster.” Hangman loaded his tone with all sorts of innuendo.

Rooster made a gagging noise, and Hangman chuckled, opening the pilot’s side door of the plane. “Get in, Rooster. Ma’s gonna be pissed if I’m late.”

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Maverick and Penny had both invited Rooster to come with them. They’d been emphatic that he wouldn’t be a bother, that he was more than welcome, that he was part of the family. But Rooster just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Ever since their first mission back at Top Gun, Rooster had been working on things with Maverick. He’d caught Maverick up on all the things he’d missed out on in his life: the relationships, the accolades, the friends and the enemies. In return, Maverick had a heart-to-heart with him about why he’d pulled his papers from the academy, finally opening up about his mother’s last wish. Both of them had made strides towards regaining the familial relationship they’d had when he was growing up.

But this was just a step too far too soon.

Penny’s parents were hosting her and Amelia for Christmas this year, and they’d invited Maverick and Rooster to come along. Maverick because of his surprisingly steady relationship with their daughter, and Rooster as his nephew of sorts.

The last time he’d sat down with Maverick for the holidays, Maverick told him he was pulling his papers. It was just too much for Rooster, this year at least. He meant it when he told Maverick he wanted to work on it, but relationships like theirs weren’t repaired overnight. He needed time to ease into this, and Christmas, the holidays, felt like the last hurdle, not the first.

Despite Maverick and Penny’s protest, Rooster was planning to stay on base, order some Chinese food, and watch the greatest Christmas movie of all time – of course, Die Hard.

It was Hangman who’d been the one to really interrupt his plan.

“Hey, dickhead,” Hangman ripped the covers off of Rooster’s bed. “Get up and pack. You’re coming with me.”

“W-What?” Rooster raised a hand to block the sunlight streaming in the window. He was still asleep when Hangman loudly barged into his room. It was supposed to be a day off, so he wasn’t exactly alert.

“You heard me. Up. Pack. You’ll only be gone a week and a half. It shouldn’t take you long. Now get a move on.”

Rooster propped himself up on his elbows, still a bit tired and very confused as he watched Hangman. The other pilot was ambling around his room like he owned the place, throwing open his closet and callously tearing through it till he found Rooster’s duffle bag on the top shelf, which he promptly flung across the room onto the end of Rooster’s bed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Hangman?”

Hangman turned on Rooster with a look of utter exasperation. “I’m not letting you stick around in this godforsaken dorm alone while the rest of us go home. I’ll never hear the end of your sob stories if people find out, and my Ma would never forgive me if she found out I let someone spend Christmas alone so...”

Hangman ripped the first shirt out of Rooster’s closet that his hand touched and tossed it to him. It was one of his many god-awful Hawaiian t-shirts. “Get dressed. We leave in an hour.”

Hangman marched out of Rooster’s room as quickly as he entered.

In his mind, Rooster told himself it was as surface level as Hangman said, that his mother would be mad at him if he left someone alone in the dorms or that he couldn’t stand to hear people fawn over Rooster’s loneliness when they got back, but in reality he knew better.

No one else in the squad had thought to ask where he was going for the holidays. No one else had thought to invite him around.

It brought a smile to Rooster’s face.

His association with Hangman didn’t have the best of starts, but since the mission, the anger and rivalry had really been more of an amusing façade than anything. They both knew it. Rooster had seen a glimpse of a different Hangman when he wasn’t picked for the mission and when he’d flown in to save the day. He’d never say it to anyone, and Hangman would kill him if he tried, but he was pretty sure he could count them as friends now.

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

“Ma!” Hangman called, tossing his bag beside the door as he kicked off his shoes. “I’m home!”

Rooster followed Hangman’s example and pulled off his shoes, cautiously setting them down beside the door. His duffle still hung from his shoulder. He wasn’t just being careful because this wasn’t his house. Rooster was also being careful because it might very well have been the nicest house he’d ever seen. Logically, he knew kicking off his shoes as Hangman had would not damage the gorgeous stone floors, but he still set them aside with an immense amount of care.

Everything about this house was beautiful, massive, and pristine. The foyer was a natural stone floor leading up to the base of a gorgeous, central staircase with intricately twisting railings that led up and around a second-floor mezzanine. The stone floor gave way to wood on either side of the foyer where, on the left, a set of glass doors showed through on a formal sitting room and, on the right, a more traditional, though still incredibly extravagant living room.

“Jake!” Someone shouted from upstairs. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” Hangman called back. He wandered into the house, waving for Rooster to follow him. “We have company.” He added offhandedly.

There was a scurrying sound upstairs, doors slamming, loud footsteps.

“I’d stand back,” Hangman murmured to Rooster as another set of footsteps, then another, joined the parade that seemed to be forming upstairs.

Rooster didn’t really know what Hangman was getting at, but he did as he was told, wandering several steps back and away from Hangman just as three blonde heads came stampeding out onto the floor at the top of the stairs.

“JAKE!”

Rooster wasn’t sure which of the heads – or maybe it was all three – shouted at Hangman, but a hoard of limbs and hair came tumbling down the stairs directly for him. Hangman seemed to expect this, and he stuck his arms out, only falling back a step or two to brace himself as all three people flung themselves at him at once.

“I missed y’all too,” Hangman laughed, a genuine fully bellied, head thrown back laugh, as random arms stuck out and flung themselves around him to hug him.

Rooster was only just making out the people in the mass of bodies wrapped up in Hangman’s arms. It looked like three tall, blonde women in a mismatch of blue jeans and plaid that spelled out Texas as clearly as any sign could.

“When did you get back?” One of the women extracted herself from Hangman and grinned up at him as she asked.

“Just now. Rooster and I just flew into the airfield.”

The woman who asked the question turned on him first, but the other two quickly pulled back at the mention of a newcomer.

“Don’t bite,” Hangman quickly warned them before he circled around to stand beside Rooster in front of the women. Clapping his hands on each of Rooster’s shoulders by way of introduction, “Y’all, this is Rooster. Rooster, these are my sisters: Kaitlin, Andrea, and Veronica. Or just Kate, Andy, and Ronnie.” He pointed at each woman in turn.

From the moment they turned on him, Rooster knew they were Hangman’s sisters. He actually didn’t know Jake had sisters, but there was no mistaking these women for anything else. He could’ve run into them in a supermarket last week before he knew they existed, and he still would’ve known exactly who they were.

The oldest of the trio, the one Hangman had pointed out as Kaitlin, could’ve been Hangman’s twin. They had to be the same age or very nearly so, and they certainly looked enough alike. She was the female Jake Seresin in every way. Tall and toned, with the same nose and mouth, and a sharpness to her eyes that wreaked of witty retorts and teasing jabs.

Veronica, the one who asked the question, was clearly younger than Jake, but also certainly older than Andrea. She was just as blonde as Hangman or Kaitlin, but her hair had a lot more curl to it than any of her siblings. It was really the only thing that distinguished her from Andrea. They looked as alike as Jake and Kaitlin. Both on the shorter side compared to their siblings, with rounder cheeks and kinder smiles.

“Ladies,” Rooster gave a polite nod and stuck out his hand to the nearest sister, Andrea, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Please tell me Rooster is your callsign and not your name,” Kaitlin grinned as Rooster made the rounds shaking hands with each of them.

Rooster chuckled as his hand came to her last, “It’s Bradley, if you prefer.”

“We do.” Kaitlin accepted and shook his hand.

“Yeah,” Veronica leaned over and poked a finger into Hangman’s stomach. “We’re not exactly fans of call signs round here.”

It was interesting to Rooster that Hangman’s sisters, his family in general, knew his callsign, and Rooster wondered if they knew how he’d earned it, if they objected to his behavior, to his being called out, or just to the idea that it had happened at all.

Hangman rolled his eyes and dropped the hand he’d left on Rooster’s shoulder. “Well Rooster’s a bit more palatable of a name than Hangman.” Walking back to the door and picking up his bag, Hangman asked, “Where’s Ma?”

“At the store. She thought she had time before you got home,” Kaitlin answered, reaching out a hand to take his bag. “Give your friend the tour. We’ll take your stuff up.”

“Yeah, we’ll totally take your bags upstairs,” Andrea leaned over at the waist, leaving space to see straight down the half-buttoned plaid shirt she was wearing. She reached for the strap of Rooster’s bag and slipped a finger gently between it and his shoulder, tugging it slowly, almost seductively.

“Hey,” Hangman immediately clocked what she was doing and snapped his fingers. He stared her down over the top of a finger pointed at Andrea. “No,” he commanded.

Rooster could feel his face turning red, but Hangman wasn’t watching him in the slightest, and neither was Andrea anymore. She was already laughing at Hangman’s dad-like tone and running off upstairs with Rooster’s duffle over her shoulder.

“I mean it Andy!” Hangman shouted after her, grabbing the edge of the bannister and leaning around to watch her as she ran across the mezzanine. “He’s weak willed, and I won’t have you corrupting him!”

Kaitlin snorted and hoisted Hangman’s bag up onto her shoulder. “Welcome home, Bradley,” She supplied with an amused look as she took to the stairs after Andrea.

Veronica lingered for a second as Kaitlin disappeared upstairs. “Does anyone else know your home yet?” Her expression was curious and disarming, but her tone was pointed.

Hangman huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “No, Ronnie, I haven’t told her yet. She’s still at work. Can you call Ma and tell her I’m home and that Rooster’s here too?”

“’Course.” Veronica pulled out her phone and walked towards the sitting room in the entryway. “But I’m not telling her, that’s on you.”

It took a second, in the aftermath of the chaos, for Rooster’s mind to catch up with everything. “I’m sorry, Hangman; I…”

Hangman waved him off dismissively. He clearly already knew where this was going. “Andy always flirts with any friend I bring in. She’s just doin’ it to mess with me.”

Rooster nodded, happy to agree to that explanation. He didn’t have a sister himself, but he wouldn’t want Hangman hooking up with her if he did have one, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. He wasn’t about to get himself thrown out of Hangman’s house in the middle of god-only-knows-where, Texas.

“She’s telling your mom I’m here now?” Rooster thumbed back in the direction Veronica had gone, trying to redirect the conversation, “Does your mom not know I’m here?”

“I literally invited you at,” Hangman checked his watch, “5 A.M. today. It was way too early to call them.”

“Hangman,” Rooster sighed and pointed upstairs in the direction his bag had disappeared, “I can just get my stuff and go find a hotel. I’m not gonna put your family out.”

“Rooster, look around.” Hangman gave him an utterly exasperated look and gestured vaguely to the room they were standing in. “Does it look like one extra guest is gonna to put my Ma out?”

Rooster looked around. The easiest answer was no; it didn’t. Rooster couldn’t tell how many rooms there were in the house, but he knew it was a lot. From the outside, it was obviously three-stories tall, and he was pretty sure the little bungalow he grew up in could fit entirely in the entry and the living room.

“This is really your house then.” He slowly turned on the spot to get the full effect. It screamed Hangman.

Hangman nodded and waved Rooster around the side of the stairs, “It’s called oil money, Rooster. Welcome to Texas.”

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

“Oh honey, you didn’t tell me you were bringin’ another pilot with you.” Hangman’s mother was the definition of a southern bell. Thick southern accent, curvy figure wrapped in a flowery sun dress, perfectly styled hair, striking blue eyes and a smile as bright as a lightbulb turning on. She was beautiful woman, and Rooster instantly knew where Hangman and his sisters got their model-esque looks from.

She came in, just as much of a whirlwind as her daughters, and immediately threw her arms around her son’s neck, loudly declaring how sad she was that she hadn’t been there when he arrived. Hangman hugged her tightly to him without response for several long moments before she interrupted the silence with a flurry of questions for him all of which he answered.

Hangman pretended to be annoyed with her fussing over his clothes and whether he’d been eating enough, but Rooster could see from where he was standing off to the side that the annoyance didn’t touch his eyes.

It was nice, Rooster thought, that he’d finally found something that made the unshakeable Hangman lose some of his bravado. The way Hangman’s smirk melted into a real, genuine smile when he saw his sisters and his mother, none of the squad would believe Rooster if he told them. Not that he would. That was how he’d repay Hangman for this week. By keeping all of it to himself and allowing him to maintain his mask as the egotistical, carefree asshole.

Really, it was sweet, the way his mother fawned over him and the way Hangman was secretly amused by it. It reminded Rooster of his own mom. The way she’d check him over the moment he came through the door after a sleepover at a friend’s house. The way she rushed through her morning routine to help get him ready for school on time. The way she wouldn’t let him leave the car without a kiss on the cheek and an ‘I-love-you’.

He could feel an emotion, not a good one, bubbling up in his chest watching someone else get the love he so desperately craved. But it was squashed the moment Mrs. Seresin turned on him.

“Now honey,” Mrs. Seresin took hold of both of Rooster’s arms and smiled up at him, practically beaming, “I hope my boy’s been a good host and offered you somethin’ to drink.”

“He’s got a water on the counter, Ma.” Hangman leaned against the kitchen counter with an amused grin playing at the edge of his lips. This was, clearly, the usual for his mom.

“Now why on earth has he got water,” Mrs. Seresin pouted, appraising him with the same eyes she’d given Hangman, “Look at this boy, Jake.” She poked Rooster in the arm. “We gotta get some meat on his bones.”

“Ma’am, I…”

“None of that Ma’am and Mrs. now, Honey. Any friend of Jake’s is welcome round here, and anyone welcome round here can call me Ma,” Mrs. Seresin gave Rooster a tight, two-armed hug around the waist that he instinctively returned, “or Debbie, if Ma’s too much for you. Jake used to get onto me for ‘adopting’ his friends.”

“Don’t worry Ma. I finally brought you a stray. I spared him from a Christmas in the dorms eating takeout and watching bad tv till the rest of us got back.” Hangman said it conspiratorially, like it was the most atrocious existence his mother could imagine and not like it had been Rooster’s reality for five of his last six Christmases.

Mrs. Seresin froze, only halfway pulled out of the hug she’d given Rooster. “Now that,” she said, more to herself than either of the pilots occupying the room, “will absolutely not do.”

“Young man,” she took both of Rooster’s hands and firmly gripped them in hers, “you are always welcome round here. If you’re ever out of a place to go on any holiday, you come knock on my door.”

Hangman silently observed the interaction, eyes darting between his mother and Rooster as he pursed his lips to hide a smirk. From his earlier comments, it was obvious Hangman knew exactly how his mother would react, but there was no way he could know how it would make Rooster feel.

Rooster didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the earnest older woman staring up at him. She meant every word of it; that much was obvious from her wide, doe eyes that bored into his with such desperate need to be helpful, a feature she had very much not passed on to her son. There was something deeply caring in this woman, the way she held his hands and pleaded for him to return. It wasn’t his mom, but it felt, for a moment like a ghost of her. Like this woman had been sent, not by Hangman, but by her. “Yes ma’am.” The words caught in his throat.

“Ma,” Hangman interrupted as the woman’s mouth began to open, no doubt to scold Rooster for saying ma’am. “Can you give us a minute? I’m gonna give Rooster the rundown on everyone before people start turning up.”

“Turning up?” Rooster looked up at Hangman, finally pulling back from his mother.

“Barbecue this afternoon, it’s a homecoming tradition. It’s nothing fancy, but it is lots of people.”

Hangman never gave Rooster the rundown on anyone. He grabbed his fellow pilot’s arm and tugged him upstairs to show him where he’d be sleeping. The bigger of the guest rooms was on the third floor between Hangman’s room and the master. Hangman grabbed Rooster’s bag from a smaller room on the second floor and hauled it upstairs ‘away from Andy’, as Hangman put it.

“My Ma can be a bit… maternal.” Hangman tossed Rooster’s bag on the bed and sidestepped out of the doorway so Rooster can come in. “It’s a bit much sometimes. If you need some distance, just let me know.”

“She’s great.” Rooster dismissed, probably too quickly. Hangman was probably right; he probably should think about how much parental energy he could handle. But the natural instinct to defy everything Hangman said was always lurking in the back of his mind.

Hangman nodded, not really believing Rooster anyway. “Well, I’ll give you a few minutes. We should be back downstairs in about half an hour to help out before people start turning up. There’ll be picnic tables and such to set up in the yard, and last time Ma left Ronnie in charge of that Andy broke a finger.”

“Hey,” Rooster stopped Hangman as he turned to leave. “Thanks… for this. It’s…” Rooster didn’t really have the words. “It’s surprisingly nice of you.”

Hangman, not really knowing what else to say, nodded and made a swift, albeit awkward exit from the room.

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“Twenty bucks?” Payback pulled the bill out of his wallet and laid it down on the edge of the table.

“Really Payback,” Coyote called over to him. “It’s not worth it. He’s not bluffing this time.”

It was true. Hangman was not bluffing about his darts skills when he said he was the best shot in the squad. Coyote knew that. Hangman knew that. But Payback didn’t believe that. Payback was pretty good at darts, and over the course of the night before Hangman arrived, he’d bested everyone else in the squad. It was, he figured, only a matter of time before he reigned supreme.

“He’s right.” Hangman agreed with Coyote, “I can’t take your money. It’d be like stealing.”

“Or you’re just scared of losing,” Phoenix egged Hangman on. She’d lost to Payback handily in the last round, so she was pretty aware of how good a thrower Payback was.

“I never said that,” Hangman smirked, “I just don’t think we should be betting money that he’s so clearly going to lose. You’ll be calling me a con artist when it’s over.”

Payback crossed one arm over his chest and stroked his chin with the other hand, “Well if we’re not betting money… How about we bet a ride in Addie? I bet I could show her a good time.”

The smirk staled on Hangman’s face, and his jaw clenched. “Addie’s off the table.”

The whole room laughed, and suddenly Hangman’s objections to robbing Payback blind dropped away.

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“God, is this the whole neighborhood?” Rooster asked, looking out over the mass of people mingling in the Seresin’s backyard.

Kate Seresin, Rooster’s current partner at the picnic table, gave a hum of acknowledgment, “It is for now. By the end of the night it’ll be more.”

“Jesus,” Rooster whistled. They had to be just shy of fifty already.

Kate didn’t seem phased, “I mean Jake is kind of the golden boy, hometown hero around here. Small town boy forsakes his life of riches to join the Navy and becomes the greatest fighter pilot of his generation.”

“Debatable.” Rooster immediately shot back at her last comment.

Kate smirked, grabbing a grape off of the fruit platter at the center of their picnic table. “I don’t know about that. Top of his class, two medals for valor, two confirmed kills.” She raised a knowing eyebrow at Rooster as she popped the grape in her mouth, “How many kills do you have again?”

“Did Jake tell you to say that?” Rooster asked her.

“No,” Kate shot back with a teasing glint in her eye. “I happen to love my brother and pay attention to what he’s doing.” The pair went silent for a second before Kate said, “He told me one of those kills saved your ass.”

“It did.” Rooster would grudge Hangman a lot of things, but he would never grudge him that.

Kate picked up another grape and threw it at Rooster. It hit him squarely in the center of the forehead before it bounced off and rolled away across the table. “Well then, take that frown off your face and let him have his moment. (Y/n) hasn’t even got here yet.”

“Who’s (Y/n)?”

As if the Devil had been spoken of, behind Kate, a beautiful, young woman in blue jeans and a tank top burst out of the house and frantically scanned the yard outside looking for something.

“Kate!” She shouted when her eyes zeroed in on the two at the picnic table. “Where is he?” The woman asked, rushing over to them. “They said he was here already.”

“Bradley,” Kate laughed, “This chaotic piece of work is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Jake’s wingman, Bradley.”

“Hi,” In her rush, (Y/n) only gave him a half smile before turning back to Kate, “And Jake is?”

“Over here gorgeous!”

(Y/n) whirled on the spot.

Hangman stood in the doorway the woman had just come from, carrying a couple of full glasses in each hand, but the moment he saw her turn to him, Hangman relieved himself of the glasses on the nearest flat surface.

(Y/n), like his sisters and mother before her, bolted across the deck and flung herself, full force, into Hangman’s outstretched arms.

Hangman caught her with one arm around her waist and lifted her feet off the ground. His other hand immediately went to the back of her head and held it tight against him as he buried his nose in her hair. His eyes had fallen shut the moment she was in his embrace, and he seemed to be entirely unconscious of the way he was swinging her back and forth against him.

He’d seen Hangman greet and hug a lot of family and friends today, but to Rooster, it was immediately and painfully obvious that this one was different.

“That,” Kate took a swig of her beer then used the neck of her bottle to point after them, “is (Y/n).” Her eyes lingered on the pair in the doorway with a sad smile.

Rooster nodded along, not taking his eyes off the pair, “I can see that… and she is?”

Kate turned back around to stare Rooster down. “What?” It was the first time since he’d stepped through the door that someone, Hangman included, had raised their voice. The look on Kate’s face was somewhere north of shocked and just south of offended. “You don’t know who (Y/n) is?”

Rooster shook his head.

Kate seemed like she didn’t believe him, “Surely, you know Addie.”

Rooster snorted, “The plane? Yeah, how do you think we got here.”

“No, no, no, no,” Kate was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence, “The plane is named after Addie. That,” she pointed the beer bottle back at the couple once again, “is Addie.”

Rooster followed the bottle back to (Y/n).

(Y/n) was back on solid ground, but she hadn’t escaped Hangman’s arms. Both were around her waist, pulling her into him where her palms steadied her against his chest. Hangman was looking down like he was in absolute awe of her existence, as if the sun had only risen that day so that he could look at this woman. She was grinning back up at him just as brightly, happily chatting away about something Rooster couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, Hangman didn’t seem to be giving it much of his attention; he seemed a little too dazzled by the woman herself to concentrate on what she was saying at the moment.

“Are they…” Rooster trailed off, not sure what he was about to ask.

Kate shrugged, “Madly in love? Yes. Dating? No.”

“Why not?”

“Ask him.” Kate suggested, “Better yet, make him get off his ass and do something about it.” Kate shoved off the picnic table and wandered away in the direction of her sisters.

Hangman stayed in the doorway with (Y/n), completely oblivious to the world around him for another five minutes. At some point he recovered from his daze, and the two were going back and forth, laughing and smiling, as they engrossed themselves in a discussion only they could hear.

It was a side of Hangman Rooster had never seen. It was a side of Hangman Rooster wasn’t sure existed. The closest he’d come to seeing something like this from the fighter pilot was after they’d completed the uranium mission and Hangman had saved his life. On the deck of the aircraft carrier, he’d seen a rare glimpse of Hangman’s humanity, a peak at some humble, good-natured guy that lurked underneath. Hangman had quickly stowed that and any other sentiment away, but his mask had been a little thinner ever since. This, what was happening in front of him, was ripping his mask off completely.

Hangman reached a hand up from (Y/n)’s waist to brush a flyaway hair back into place when he caught Rooster’s eye in his peripheral vision. Hangman smiled at him and leaned down to whisper to (Y/n).

The woman whipped around in his arms and spotted Rooster watching them. He thought for a second she might be angry at him for staring at their private moment, but before he could divert his gaze away she broke out yet another smile. Grabbing hold of Hangman, she towed the pilot over to Rooster’s table.

“So you’re the famous Rooster. I’ve heard so much about you!” (Y/n) swung a leg over to straddle the bench opposite Rooster and join him.

Hangman used the bench as a step and sat on the edge of the wood tabletop next to (Y/n), his hand still resting on her shoulder. “(Y/n), this is Rooster. Rooster, this is…”

“Addie,” Rooster corrected Hangman before he even spoke. “Kate was just telling me they call you Addie.”

(Y/n) laughed, “Not quite. Maybe back in the day, but only Jake calls me that anymore. We were kind of hell raisers back in the day, and my dad used to say we were adrenaline junkie. Adrenaline. Addie.” She traced the origins of the childhood nickname for Rooster while her fingers, seemingly subconsciously, traced lines on the back of Hangman’s hand. “You’re welcome to call me that though, or whatever else sticks. I don’t know what horrible nicknames Jake gives me while I’m not around.”

“Nothing too bad, just the usual,” Hangman promised with a grin, “Ursula, Satan, Demon.”

Like a little kid, (Y/n) stuck her tongue out at Hangman. “Meanie.”

“You’ve called me worse,” He brushed it off.

“He’s called you a lot worse, I bet,” (Y/n) turned her attention back to Rooster. “I’d love to get all the details from you. Jake’s never brought any of his pilot friends home.”

“That’s because I don’t have any, Addie.” Hangman said it while making eye contact with Rooster. It wasn’t wholly true, but they both knew it was more true than not.

(Y/n) however seemed completely unwilling to believe that. “If that’s true than who the hell are the random people you always call to talk to me about on the phone.” (Y/n) turned her full attention to Rooster, addressing him like she was letting him in on a secret, “Really if I have to hear one more time how great this Bob guy is or how badass Phoenix’s flying is on the course I’m going to think he’s replaced me.”

She very much was letting him in on a secret. Whether she knew that or was just egging Hangman on, Rooster wasn’t sure. But the flash of warning in Hangman’s eyes told Rooster that Hangman at the very least was aware of the importance of what (Y/n) was disclosing and was not going to let it go any farther than this table.

“They can’t replace you. I doubt Bob owns a single pair of cowboy boots.” Hangman redirected in a tone that was far more teasing than the look he was sending to Rooster.

“We could definitely get him a pair.” (Y/n) looked up at Hangman with a grin, “Come on. It’d be really funny, you walking back onto base with bags and bags of cowboy boots for everyone.”

“It would, and you would,” Hangman agreed, “which is precisely why you’re never setting foot on base.”

(Y/n) gave a pout at that. It was, quite clearly, something they’d discussed before, if not in great detail than at least in a similar joking manner.

Rooster, ever one to get under Hangman’s skin, couldn’t help leaning in and telling her, “Don’t worry, Doll. I can get you on base.” Her face practically split in two from the smile.

“So, that’s Addie.”

A couple hours into the party (Y/n) finally left Hangman’s side and ran off to mingle with a group including his sister Ronnie.

Rooster hadn’t made much of an effort to mingle himself. Between the two of them, (Y/n) and Hangman faithfully introduced him to everyone in the long que of people who came up to welcome Hangman home. (Y/n) made a point to tell each and every one of them that Rooster was a highly decorated TopGun pilot too and a good friend of Hangman’s, and everyone had returned the information with a thanks for his service or enthusiastic welcome.

(Y/n) only pried herself away from Hangman when his sister started loudly calling out questions to her across the yard, and she was forced to leave to answer them.

“That’s Addie,” Hangman never took his eyes off her back.

“When you said…” Rooster trailed off for a second, not entirely sure it was something he should bring up but also unable to stop himself, “When you said you only cared about one thing.”

“I meant her, not the plane.” Hangman didn’t hesitate to confirm Rooster’s suspicions. Casually taking a sip of his beer, he added, “She’s my best friend.”

Rooster cocked an eyebrow, “She’s a bit more than your best friend.”

“She’s not,” Hangman corrected. He risked looking away from (Y/n) to eye Rooster, but only for a second before his gaze returned.

“Why not?”

Kate’s words were echoing in the back of Rooster’s mind. ‘Make him get off his ass.’ Hangman wasn’t lacking in confidence when it came to women, nor had he ever needed a kick in the butt to pursue one before. He thought so highly of himself it was a wonder that he didn’t think every woman was walking around constantly thinking about fucking him. There was no way he could doubt what (Y/n)’s answer would be. Hell, Rooster did not at all agree with Hangman’s assessment of himself but even he could see she would say yes. There was nothing short of adoration in her eyes.

“You know why.”

Rooster really didn’t.

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“And then he made Hangman run laps till he threw up on the tarmac.”

“Oh my god,” (Y/n) wiped her eyes where tears were beginning to bud at the corners. “He really said that? To his Captain?”

“In my defense,” Hangman piped up, “it was Maverick.”

Rooster smirked and gave Hangman a nod of acknowledgment. There was no denying that. “It was Maverick.”

Everyone else had left the party hours ago. It was well past sunset and rapidly approaching midnight. At some point the trio of Rooster, Hangman, and (Y/n) had moved their tiny remainder of the party inside to the plush couches in the Seresin’s living room, but the change of scenery had done nothing to dampen the flow of conversation.

Maybe it was the beers – more likely it was the girl tucked into his side – but Hangman seemed incredibly tolerable all evening, and as the night progressed Rooster found himself and Hangman poking fun at each other and swapping war stories like old friends or brothers.

Hangman made a point to include (Y/n) in every story, explaining things about the Navy or going off on tangents about the style of different pilots for her benefit. Rooster found himself including her too, countering Hangman with his own first impressions of their fellow pilots, briefly explaining his connection to Maverick for her, letting her in on his friends’ hairbrained schemes – most of which did not include Hangman for the obvious reason that they were not friends until recently.

(Y/n) laughed and teased her way through it all, freely divulging her own takes on their stories, which Hangman listened to with an almost reverential nature. As he should, Rooster quickly realized that (Y/n) had a great sense of humor.

She was not at all what Rooster would’ve expected if asked to draw Hangman’s perfect woman. Her sweet outward demeanor that Rooster had noticed from the start did nothing to mask the sly, mischievous personality underneath. She exuded the same familiar, caring energy that Rooster had been engulfed in since the moment he entered the Seresin house, but it never stopped her from poking fun at his moustache or Hangman’s hair.

Where she was concerned, she was an open, honest book, ready and willing to show every page to Rooster for the sole reason of her implicit trust in Hangman’s stamp of approval. Because it became apparent to Rooster that bringing him here, introducing him to his family and (Y/n), had been Hangman’s way of giving him a stamp of approval.

(Y/n) played it a little closer to the vest, slightly more hesitant to reveal any of the dirty details, about Hangman’s childhood. Rooster could see the hesitation in her eye every time it came up, and she’d frequently joke or tease her way out of more meaningful stories with offhand remarks about something superficial like how awful Hangman’s teeth had looked back then. Though, every now and then, Hangman would look down at her curled up against him with pleading eyes and nod, and she would excitedly launch into a tale of some adventure or other they’d gone on as kids.

It baffled Rooster, the longer they talked, to think that the pair weren’t dating. Hell, it baffled him to think that they weren’t already married. Their worlds seemed to revolve around each other so readily, so easily. He had scant memories his childhood while his father was still alive, but most of those memories were of his father’s deep and undying love for his mother and him. It was a look of such unconditional love that he hadn’t seen it in years. He’d thought it was a fluke, that it didn’t exist, but it was painted plain as day across Hangman’s face every time (Y/n) was near.

When she was in arms reach, Hangman had to have a hand on her. When she was out of reach, his eyes followed her till she was out of sight, and when she was out of sight it was apparent that he was anxiously waiting for her to come back. And it seemed from everything Rooster had witnessed that the feeling was very much returned.

Rooster could almost laugh to himself as he started chalking up half of Hangman’s asshole behavior on base to (Y/n) withdrawals.

“I should really get home,” (Y/n) sighed when she looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and saw it was two in the morning.

There was no gradual transition. The expression on Hangman’s face shifted in an instant. “It’s late. Stay here. Rooster’s head is pretty big, but it only takes up one room. I promise.”

(Y/n) shook her head and extracted herself from under Hangman’s arm. “I really do need to go. I have work in the morning. Not all of us get weeks off like you lazy bones.” (Y/n) poked Hangman in the arm with a teasing smile.

Hangman pushed to his feet beside her, “Then let me drive. You’ve had more than a few beers.”

“So have you.” She countered.

“Addie, I haven’t had one in a couple hours. Come on.” Hangman slid a hand in the front pocket of her blue jeans and pulled out her keys, dangling them off his finger. “Let’s go.”

(Y/n) seemed ready to protest more, but as she was about to a yawn overtook her. “Oh fine.”

She turned and gave Rooster one last smile, “It was so nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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“So explain it to me, again.” Rooster really didn’t mean to pry, but he just had to ask. It didn’t make any sense.

Hangman had left to drive (Y/n) home, and upon hearing the car start in the drive, Kate had wandered back downstairs to check on them. Her brother off driving (Y/n) home looked like it was the least surprising news she’d ever heard in her life, like it wasn’t news at all but a fact.

When Rooster had suggested they drive after him to give him a ride back, Kate had waved him off and said, ‘He’ll sleep on (Y/n)’s couch and jog home in the morning,’ like it was an everyday event. It raised so many questions that Rooster just didn’t have the answers to.

“They’ve been best friends since they were like eight. Jake found her crying behind the elementary school because someone made fun of her shoes. They were these old, ratty hand-me-downs from some cousin of hers. So, Jake thought it would make her feel better if she had new shoes. He snuck a pair of my ballet flats into the bottom of his bag and went and found her after school the next day to give them to her.”

It was a cute story. Rooster could almost picture it. Not from the Hangman he knew, but maybe this Hangman who was much less of an ass.

“And he’s been in love with her ever since.”

“Not quite,” Kate shrugged, giving the cup of chamomile she was cradling a casual stir, “I don’t think it was love until high school. Maybe a childhood crush on a best friend, but nothing more than that.”

“Okay, so what changed?”

“That’s when our dad died. Dad wasn’t a very good guy, rich asshole with a mean right hook for anyone that stepped out of line, which was mostly Jake. I don’t think Jake and I ever mourned. I know Mom didn’t, and Ronnie and Andy were too young to remember him anyway.”

Rooster knew Hangman’s dad had passed away too. He’d known that bit of information for a long time in fact; it was one of the only personal things he’d known about Hangman before he got here. Hangman joked about it in the bar from time to time. It had always irked him, as someone who’d also lost their dad, to hear him be so callous. He’d even commented on it one time, told Hangman to show some respect. Hangman snarked at him over it, but he had shut up about it for a while after that. Coyote wasn’t as kind about it and told him to fuck out of other people’s family business.

“He died a couple years after Andy was born. Jake was a freshman in high school. Mom leaned on him, probably a little too much. He became like a dad, especially to Andy.” Kate took a swig of her tea to calm herself, “He was a better father figure than our dad ever was, so that’s probably for the best.”

“I didn’t know that,” Rooster mused.

“We don’t talk about him much. I don’t think Ronnie and Andy know how mean he really was.” Kate was shifting in her seat and clearly uncomfortable, so Rooster didn’t object when she pivoted the conversation back on course, “Anyway, I think that’s around the time Jake fell in love with (Y/n). She was there to support him when everyone else was just taking things from him. He was losing sight of himself through everyone’s expectations of him, and she brought him back. The whole family, even Mom, wanted him to follow Dad’s footsteps, take over the family business. It was the safe option, the easy option, and the best option for everyone except Jake. But (Y/n) wouldn’t have it. She knew him better than all of us, talked him into joining the Navy, told him the business would be there when he retired. She’s not just his best friend or the girl he’s in love with. She’s the reason Jake is Jake at all.”

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True to Kate’s word, Hangman came jogging back the next morning as the sun began to rise. Rooster was up, but none of his family had risen from bed yet to see him come in.

“Morning Rooster, wake up to crow at the sun?” Hangman jogged straight through the kitchen to the fridge and began rummaging around inside.

“Wouldn’t be that out of place around here,” Rooster was already sipping on a cup of coffee sitting at a barstool overlooking the kitchen.

Hangman chuckled and returned to the counter with a bottle of water, “Probably not.”

“How was (Y/n)?”

Hangman raised an eyebrow, cautious at the change in conversation and clearly picking up that it wasn’t totally casual on Rooster’s end. “Fine, bit hungover, but I left her with meds and water.”

“I’m just surprised to see you so early is all,” Rooster shrugged. “Thought you would’ve stayed later? She seems like the high school crush, one that got away, was the love of your life type.”

“Is.”

“What?”

Hangman took a sip of his water before replying nonchalantly, “She is the love of my life. Not was.”

For someone who wasn’t dating her, Hangman admitted his love for (Y/n) so freely, so openly. Not just platonically but as a genuine romantic love, he acknowledged every bit of it. It really struck Rooster.

“I don’t think you get to call them the current love of your life if you moved on.” Rooster pointed with a mock-accusatory finger at Hangman.

“Good thing I never did then.”

That was certainly news, news that would defy every logical assumption Rooster had ever made about Hangman. He was a flirt who thought he was god’s gift to women, and a lot of women seemed to agree with him on that – not that Rooster would ever acknowledge that out loud. There wasn’t a night at the Hard Deck there wasn’t a woman or two on his arm, and yet, thinking back, Rooster never remembered seeing the same girl twice. He honestly wasn’t sure he remembered ever seeing Hangman leave the bar with anyone, for that matter.

“If she’s the love of your life, than why isn’t she in Fightertown with you?” Rooster leaned into what he was saying, “She’s nice, funny, sexy, smart; she’s a way better person than you. She makes you bearable to be around… Did she turn you down?”

“I never asked her to come with me. She’d say yes if I did.”

“That…” Rooster hesitated for a second, “That really doesn’t sound like a problem. That sounds like a solution. If she loves you and you love her, what’s wrong with that?” Rooster threw back the rest of his coffee like a shot.

Hangman sighed and walked around to slump into one of the barstools next to Rooster. He looked like he was ready to unload something heavy that had been sitting on his chest. “You said it yourself. She is so much better than me, and she deserves so much better than what I can give her. She shouldn’t have to uproot her life and start over every couple years. She shouldn’t have to live by the Navy’s rules and expectations. She…”

For a moment, it was like the words caught in Hangman’s throat, like for once the noose was tightening around his neck. “Half the reason I fly the way I do is because of the missions they send us on. You saw the way Cyclone changed the plan on the mountain mission when Maverick left. That mission was supposed to, was designed to be, a suicide run, and I’ve gone on two like it since then. I already know one day someone’s gonna be knockin’ on a door with a folded-up flag under their arm with my name on it… My Ma’s door is bad enough. If it was Addie’s door they were knocking on…” Hangman closed his eyes and took a breath. “I won’t let that happen to her.”

This was what Hangman meant. Rooster knew that feeling. No matter how much he’d reassured his mom and Mav over the years, he vividly remembered the day he found out his dad had died. He remembered, more than anything, the scream of his mother standing in the doorway, the way she immediately fell to the floor, the way her body shook for hours on end even after she had no tears left to give.

“Jake,” Hearing his name made Hangman open his eyes and look up at Rooster. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. In fact, I respect it. If there was any way I could’ve saved my mom from the pain of my dad dying I would’ve done it, and I know my dad would’ve too. So if you can look me in the eye and tell me that she loves you any less because you never lived together or got down on one knee. If you can tell me that you dying isn’t gonna hurt her cause a priest never made you say ‘I do’, than I say more power to you.”

Hangman turned his head away without a word, staring out the big bay windows into the backyard where the sun was just beginning to light the sky.

Rooster carried on anyway. “But when you see that that woman wouldn’t have told you to join the Navy if she couldn’t handle being in it with you, that she already looks at you like you’re god’s gift to this world, that she isn’t gonna find better because she isn’t looking for better, because she already thinks she’s found the best, then maybe you’ll finally realize you’re making a mistake.”

Rooster tried to find the words. This was a lot deeper than he ever thought he’d get with Hangman of all people. He hadn’t even talked to Phoenix about this shit. The only person he talked to about his parents really was Maverick, but here he was, in Texas, in Hangman’s house, opening up about the worst times of his life.

“My mom was a mess, for years. Losing my dad, nothing could have possibly hurt her more. But she recovered, eventually, in her own way. She never moved on from my dad, but recovering doesn’t always mean moving on. She lived a happy life. And she was never alone. Maverick, Hollywood, Wolfe, Iceman. They were all there for her, for us, when we needed them. You’re an ass sometimes, Hangman, but there isn’t a soul on that squad that wouldn’t fight for your life. And there isn’t a soul on that squad who would abandon your family if they failed. Self included.”

Rooster pushed out of the seat and wandered back down the hall.

He was just ambling into the foyer when, out of nowhere, someone flung themselves at his side. A pair of arms wrapped so tightly around him they must’ve been trying to squeeze the life out of him. That pair was joined only seconds later by another set of arms on the other side.

He’d thought Hangman’s sisters were all still in bed, but Kate and Ronnie must’ve woken up sometime after he came downstairs. Judging by their faces they’d heard every word.

He made eye contact with Kate who whispered a quiet, meaningful, “Thank you.” Her eyes spoke volumes about how much she knew her brother needed to hear that, and Rooster wrapped an arm around each of the Seresins with a small smile.

“Always happy to call Jake out on his shit.”

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jordisblogg · 3 months

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a/n: no title bc i couldn’t think of one plus this isn’t rlly a fic, js a lil smth i was thinking about. the last part of it was inspired by this su comic i read, though i can't remember what it was called..

heart beat, negative, lungs, deactivated, body, comprised.

you stared in horror as griot read you her vitals, her blood was all over your face, hands and clothes, but you didn’t dare wipe it.

there, your wife laid, impaled. red liquid pooling from her mouth and nose, her eyes were lifeless, she made no movement.

“would you like me to contact the others, ms.y/n?”

you gave no response to the ai, as everything slowly started to tune out, you couldn’t hear the outside world anymore, you couldn’t see it. all you could see your beloved laying on the ground in her own pool of blood.

the attack had begun earlier this evening. namor had decided he had wanted to cut off the deal they had both made, in fear of shuri lying to him and double crossing his nation.

“ms.y/n?”

he hadn’t done anything flashy like the last time he flooded the city. he instead got shuri alone. she was on her nightly visit to the beach just outside the woods, the last place her and her mother truly connected before she was taken from her. she would make sure there were no dora with her, not even you and namor must’ve known.

as she reminisced, the young monarch noticed the serpent god emerging from the ocean. she hadn’t treated him like an enemy, but she was still on edge whenever he was around.

“what is it that you want?”

“do you truly have the intention of us building an alliance?” his question threw the scientist off, is that not what she had said? almost everyone who knew shuri personally knew that she never backed down on her word, no matter how bad the person was. but, she supposed she could see his suspicions.

“yes, i told you, you had my word on that. wakanda would protect your oceans as long as you promised never to show up here again.”

“did you? or did you let me believe it?” he began hovering towards her, until his feet landed on the warm sand. shuri stood and began creating distance between them.

“what are you talking about?”

“you never truly wanted us to be allies, did you, queen?”

“stay away from me—“ shuri was known to be fearless her whole life, never being one to back down from a challenge or tell someone off, when most people would be peeing their pants or running the other way. but she can’t deny, for these past 3 years, she’s been feeling the opposite of fearless, like she’s just been waiting for the last thing to tip her over and have her bursting into tears.

“do you think i am an imbecile? that i know you seek vengeance of me killing your mother.”

“what? no—“

her reached her to where there were only a few centimeters between them.

“you cross me, and i warned you, i wipe wakanda off the face of the earth..”

shuri then felt some sharp come in contact with her abdomen, she finally took her fear-struck eyes off the aquatic ruler and down at the large, sharp spear. in the exact same spot he wounded her the last time they had battled.

“it won’t heal twice..” he spit, venom laced within his words.

she tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing but swift breaths of air would egress.

“please..” she let out breathlessly, though she got no response, no remorse. he let her collapse to the ground, eyeing her vengefully as she struggled to take in oxygen.

“do not worry, i’m granting you your wish. you should be thanking me..” was the last thing he heard from him before he yanked his weapon from her middle.

“ms.y/n, would you like me to request for assistance?”

you should’ve been there. you should’ve stayed with her, something in your gut told you something wasn’t right.

“are you sure she’s alright, i mean— she’s been out there for almost an hour an a half. i know y’all want me to give her her space to mourn but.. i just don’t know.. i think i should go check on her, just to be sure.” you paced around the dining room, after you, shuri, and everyone else had invited them to dinner. it was routine for your wife to sit outside and reminisce, so you didn’t bother her about it tonight.

“i hope you know that little panther is going to say something.” mbaku snorted as he picked up a final carrot from the display plate. you ignored his warning and went out to find her.

“shuri? baby, are you alright?” you called out to her and got no answer, until you reached closer and heard faint coughs, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you continued to tread carefully, “shuri?”

the sight you saw once you finally reached her was something you could never have prepared for.

“ms.y/n, i really think we should call for assistance!”

“oh god!” you screamed, quickly running up to her as she laid, choking on her own blood. you placed your hands over her wound, hoping to stop the blood the was gushing all over her clothes.

“shuri— please, you can’t do this right now!” you watched her as she only coughed, her chest rising up in down in quick haste as she tried her hardest to breathe.

tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to calm yourself, attempting to remain strong so your emotions wouldn’t make the situation worse, “you can fight it baby, come on! you’re gonna be okay!” you picked off two kimoyo beads from your bracelet and set them into her wound swiftly.

"these should heal it, you're gonna be okay, you hear me?" you placed one hand on the side of her face while keeping the other onto her wound.

shuri didn't know this would be how she would go. she had so much she wanted to say to you, but not enough time. all she could do was look at you and hope that you could hear her every thought. despite all her hardships and stress, the best part of her day would be coming home to see you. you soothed her somehow; in a way she couldn't explain. and how badly did she want you to know. seeing your distressed and horrified face only made her realize that she should've expressed all of this to you sooner.

she did make sure that the last thing, the last person, she looked at was you. she wanted your face to be the last thing she saw before she went, that way she could go peacefully.

she ignored your cries and your pleads, and pretended it was just you and her, sitting on this very beach, listening to the waves crash against the rocks and the sound of the few occasional elephants' trunks as they took their child through the water. she imagined you two sitting her and enjoying each other's company, rather than the reality of you holding the other as they clung on to life.

"shuri please, i'm right here!" you cried hysterically as you rested your head on your wife's chest, trying your best to soothe her.

soon you could no longer hear shuri's gasps, and her chest had stopped its quick motion. and that only frightened you more.

your head shot up immediately only to see shuri's lifeless eyes staring back at you. you didn't call out to her this time; you didn't shake her. you just looked.

you looked.

you held her frail body in your hands and looked.

"y/n!" instead of hearing the ai pester your once more, you heard the general, one who your wife loved dearly. she stood still as she watched the scene before her. the recently crowned queen, the last of the royal family, was now gone. and her wife sat over her, shocked in fear.

"my queen.." she hesitated, walking steadily towards you.

"no.." you whispered, voice almost hoarse, your eyes staying on your beloved, as if she would emerge back to life if you stared long enough.

"please.. just let me—"

"she's cold.."

"y/n.."

"get her a blanket, okoye, she's cold.." you cradled her into your chest, holding her tightly.

"y/n, please!"

"i don't want her to be by herself.." the only thing that was freaking the general out was how you were talking about the young scientist.. as if she were still here. as if she wasn't laying lifeless in your arms. throughout her entire journey of being part of the dora milage, this had got to be the most frightening thing she'd seen, just after the loss of queen romanda.

"s-shes okay, okay? i'm just staying with her.. i don't want her to be alone.. she doesn't need to be alone." you rambled as you rocked back and forth, still holding your wife, just like you used to when she would come to you crying, and you were the only one who could ever make her feel better.

okoye sighed, she didn't even bother to ask how this happened or why, it wasn't the time. she only joined you both on the ground and brought your face into the crook of her neck as you broke down in her arms.

"i'm right here, udade omncinci, i'm right here.." she only sat there and comforted you, letting a few tears trickle down her cheeks as well.

#shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #mcu shuri #shuri x black! fem! reader #bpwf #shuri fic #shuri #letitia wright #shuri angst #omg gn yall a bitch need to sleep

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moody4world · 10 months

Text

ICE BOUND❄️

A/N: finally managed to finish this fic and i personally love it so i hope you guys do to!!

BEFORE READING: look up what a one handed biellman is. Personally for Michael i envisioned Michael B jordan but feel free to envision whoever you’d like🫶🏾

DISCLAIMER: apologies in advance for the angst

Jeremy x Plus size! figure skater! reader

Being an ice skater was always a big dream of yours from a very young age. It wasn’t always easy especially being a bigger size compared to the average ice skater but you worked hard everyday to be where you are now. You had met Imani in high school and the two of you have been like sisters ever since. You were there when she first met Kamal and that unfortunately means you know his obnoxious friends Renzo and Speedy too. You were there when she had her son aka your favorite and only nephew. Which means you spoiled him absolutely rotten whenever you could, especially on his birthday. You had organized a major birthday party for him in the park with large bouncy houses and barbecue.

You noticed Kamal and Imani talking to a tall white guy you had never seen before while you were fixing up the gift table and they walked over with a new one. “Yo y/n this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is y/n, Imani’s best friend” Before Imani and Kamal could say anything else, they were called over by another family member.

“It’s nice to meet you” “It’s very nice to meet you too, you look very pretty.”

“Thank you, how come i’ve never met you before Jeremy” “Oh Kamal and I met recently, we I mean I play basketball with Renzo and Speedy and he’s been giving me some advice and stuff on that” Jeremy was completely overexplaining himself but he couldn’t help it. He was very nervous because of how pretty he thought you were.

“So you’ve met dumb and dumber” You joked, referring to Renzo and Speedy. The two of you laughed together until Renzo came over to annoy you like he always does. “Look who it is, Chubby bunny and Justin Bieber” “Renzo can you shut the fuck up” You said while rolling your eyes at his childishness. “Yo white boy, you tell her you a G-league reject yet?” “I’m not a G-League reject. I’m an athlete on hiatus due to health reasons.” Renzo patted Jeremy’s chest and sarcastically said “Yeah right” You rolled your eyes at him again but luckily this time he left. Or so you thought, he wasn’t next to Jeremy anymore but he was behind you and you had no idea.

Ignoring Renzo’s unnecessary comments towards him you decided to bring up the only part that seemed relevant based off of Jeremy’s reply. “So you’re an athlete?” “Something like that, yeah” He suddenly became bashful and it was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen.

“Well that’s great, I'm actually an athlete myself!”

*Cough*”Sure don't look like one” *cough* Renzo mumbles VERY indiscreetly behind you. You turned aggressively and glared at him, scaring him enough to finally walk away and leave you and Jeremy alone. Jeremy kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Don’t listen to him, he's always an asshole” he says, trying to comfort you at Renzo’s offensive comment. But unknowingly to him, you were already used to not just Renzo’s but other people’s rude and unnecessary comments. Especially being a plus sized girl in a sport where skinny is the norm.

Shaking your head you tell him “No it’s fine, most people have their own idea of what an athlete is supposed to look like anyway.” you shrug it off.

“Plus i’ve known Renzo for way too long. I’m used to it.”

“Why don’t I come to one of your games? What team do you play for?”

You looked at him super confused until it hit you that Jeremy must’ve thought you played basketball. Quickly correcting him you reply “Oh no no I don't play basketball..or any kind of ball actually..” as you laugh awkwardly.

“So you…..” “Skate…i’m a figure skater”

Jeremy’s eyes go wide with excitement “No way, that’s cool as fuck.” “You do those crazy spins and stuff then. That’s super impressive.”

“I mean I suppose it is..” “Don’t be humble about it, that takes a lot of talent y/n”

“Thanks Jeremy” “I’d love to come watch you perform some day actually” He suggested and took a step closer to you. At first you were hesitant but I mean…he’s cute and he seems nice so far, what harm could it cause? Plus those bright blue eyes were very mesmerizing in the sunlight, how could you possibly say no?

“Yeah sure we’ll make that happen then.” You shrugged calmly but on the inside you were freaking out.

As agreed, Jeremy showed up to your next competition and the next…and the next and now he’d even show up to your practices. He found it mesmerizing how smooth you’d glide and how graceful you’d twirl. He was still getting over his fear of the big leaps and the jumps but he loved watching you do what you did best. After the second competition he attended he asked you out to dinner which led to the two of you laughing and conversing all night.

After the third competition you two shared your first kiss right outside your mom’s bakery. And yes your mom caught you two and she could not hide the excitement of finally meeting the boy you wouldn’t shut up about. Texts became daily and non stop between the two of you and so did casual drives and hangouts. Like right now you two were laying in his bed talking about his parents.

“So you’ve been living here since then all by your self?” “Uhm…not exactly. My ex, Tatiana lived with me for a while till we broke up.”

“Oh….you used to date Tati…..the ballerina?”

“The dancer, yeah. You know her?”

“Uhm no, not really.”

Now that was a lie. You and Tatiana went to the same elementary and dance classes when you were little. You even liked her a lot as a friend until she crushed your dreams of wanting to be an ice skater when you were 8. She even went as far as comparing you to a Chubby bunny, causing the nickname to stick around even after she switched schools.

You never saw Tatiana in person again but you definitely remember her.

“Are you guys still in touch?” “I mean we work at the same gym but we’re just civil now. Why?”

“Just wondering, Jer”

“Hmm. What about you then?” He asked you.

“What about me?”

“Who’s your ex? Is he some crazy ice skating olympian i gotta watch out for?” He said jokingly, making you both laugh.

“Not far off, he’s actually a crazy football player.”

Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don’t tell me he’s in the NFL y/n.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatics.

“Even if he was, I wouldn’t know Jer. He broke up with me a year before we graduated college and completely ghosted me so I have no idea.”

“Well that’s an asshole move.”

“Tell me about it.”

The mood in the room suddenly got sad and Jeremy wasn’t having it.

“Want me to order pizza? We can get your favorite toppings.”

If one thing made you happy aside from being on the ice it was food.

And just like that the mood was restored and the night went on perfectly.

It had been a couple days since youd seen Jeremy in person due to long practices while also helping your mom with her deliveries. Today you finished said deliveries a bit early and had a special batch that your mom had made specially for Jeremy. You knew these were the hours he was usually at the gym so you drove straight to there.

Walking into the gym with the tupperware and a big smile on your face excited to see your favorite basketball playing hippie. Your excitement decreased the moment you spotted him though. There he was, being a bit more than just civil with you guessed it, Tatiana. Her hand was on his arm and they were both laughing very amicably. A million thoughts started racing through your brain but before you could escape, Tati noticed you standing at the door and pointed you out to Jeremy.

Once he turned around to see you standing there his smile somehow grew even bigger than it already was. Jeremy started making his way towards you but felt like walking was taking too long so he did a little awkward jog.

“Hey pretty, I didn’t know you were coming” He wrapped his long arms around you in a crushing hug only to realize you weren’t squeezing him back like you normally would.

Pulling away he noticed the tupperware box in your hand. “I just wanted to bring you these vegan cookies my mom made, she wanted you to try them before she adds them to her inventory at the bakery” Is what you said as simple as possible while trying to hide your true feelings of what you saw when you walked in but your bluntness and lack of usual excitement was suspicious to Jeremy.

Regardless, he took the tupperware from your hands when you handed it to him but couldn’t help and double check on you.

“That’s so sweet of her, are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah im totally cool but I gotta get going”

Rushing out of the gym you hear him yell “I’ll text you after your practice!!” without looking back so he wouldn’t see your teary eyes you yell back saying “No need, its gonna be a late one!”

It wasn’t a total lie, you did go to practice but it wasn’t a scheduled one. You just wanted to get your mind off of your own insecurities for a bit while also practicing a certain move you just couldn’t get down. Staying true to the distracting yourself part, hours had gone by and you didn’t even notice.

After trying the one-handed biellman for what felt like the thousandth time and failing, you frustratedly sat on the floor angrily. “Don’t beat yourself up too bad, you almost had it” You jumped a little because you were not expecting to see anyone else at the rink and you were also in your own world until he spoke. It was none other than your once skating partner, Michael. “I’m embarrassed you even saw that, how long have you been standing there?” You still didn’t even bother standing up from your slumped position on the cold ground. “I forgot my charger in the locker room so I came back to get it and then I saw you getting frustrated.” “Want some advice?” “I’ll take all the help I can get Mike” “Say less, c’mon get up” He put his ice skates on and joined you on the ice.

After four consistent tries with Michael’s advice you were finally able to do the spin successfully. Out of pure joy and excitement you both hugged each other with laughs of relief and pride.

“Ahem” The sudden sound made you both turn to the direction of its source to find Jeremy standing there looking quite upset. “So this is why you left in such a hurry and didn’t wanna text me back?” He had his arms spread out to really show you that he was angry. Michael immediately got the message and decided it was time for him to leave. Once Michael was finally away from both of you’s vicinity he repeated his question since you had yet to answer. “So this is what you’re doing now?” At this point you had skated closer to him and you were eye to..almos eye. “What are you even talking about?” Was all you could ask, what did he mean by ‘this’? “You get all weird from me talking to Tati but you’re allowed to be in a rink alone with some buff ass dude?” his voice was slowly raising and he was visibly turning pink.

How did he figure out it was about Tatiana, did she tell him that she knew me?

“Hello?” “That is not the same Jeremy” “HOW IS IT NOT THE SAME Y/N?” Him raising his voice was your final straw, the tears you had been holding back came flooding down along with your insecure thoughts.

“UNLIKE YOU, NOT ALL MEN THAT TRY TO TALK TO ME WANT ME JEREMY.” Jeremy the oh so clueless was oblivious to everything that you have noticed during the few months of you two being together.

“That’s not true” He shook his head in disagreement.

“YES IT IS TRUE, YOURE JUST TOO OBLIVIOUS TO NOTICE IT, EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU GO OUT WITH ME SOME GIRL BLATANTLY FLIRTS WITH YOU AS IF IM NOT THERE”

“PEOPLE DONT APPROACH ME THE WAY THEY DO YOU OKAY SO ITS NOT THE SAME”

“YOU COULD LEAVE ME FOR SOME BETTER LOOKING GIRL ANY MOMENT LIKE EVERY OTHER GUY HAS, SO FORGIVE ME FOR TRYING TO PROTECT MY OWN FEELINGS”

Even after months of knowing you and being with you Jeremy had never seen you this hurt and angry before. You are the most soft spoken and calmest person he had ever been close to so to say he was shocked was an understatement. Along with his shock came speechlessness. All he could do was stare at you apologetically, full of regret for not putting himself in your shoes. He thought that he could think of the right words to fix things and get your relationship back to where it was a few days ago but the next words that came out of your mouth felt like a knife being twisted into his chest. The tears in his eyes mirrored yours. “I think what we had was fun but I don’t think we should continue whatever this was” “y/n don’t say that” “I’m sorry Jeremy”

Without even giving him a chance to defend his case, you skated off to the locker rooms leaving him to sulk in his heartbreak.

While you cried in the locker room, Jeremy decided to leave and give you some space. Deciding against driving all the way home with how much he was crying, he went to the person he knew could help him get you back. After three knocks on the door Kamal opened it to find Jeremy. He was surprised at his sudden visit only to become worried once Jeremy looked up and he noticed the sniffling, red nose and face covered in tears. “Yo what are you doing here? wait are you crying?” Jeremy was already so exhausted from crying that he only felt like saying the minimum. “Can I please talk to Imani? y/n just broke up with me and I don’t even know how to fix this”

Noting Jeremy’s distress Kamal decided that he’d leave his curiosity for another time. “Yeah..yeah sure, come in, I'll get her.” After offering Jeremy a seat at the dinner table Imani decided it was best to help him calm down first. “Would you like some tea Jeremy?” “Uh yeah some tea would be nice” He replied. “Okay what kind of tea would you like?”

Jeremy thought about it then simply said “I’ll just take the hottest one”

To which Imani just stared blankly in confusion. She still questioned why you were so fascinated by this goofy white boy. “….Okay” shaking her head Imani left to make him some tea.

Once Jeremy took a couple sips of the tea and had calmed down quite a bit, Imani decided to initiate the conversation that Jeremy suddenly seemed to be avoiding.

“Okay so what’s up with you and y/n? I thought everything was cool with you two”

“i don't know what went wrong so fast, she saw me with Tati at work and started acting all reserved. She wouldn't text me back for hours so I went to the rink and that's when I found her with some buff ass guy” “You mean Michael?” “I don’t know his name” Jeremy shrugged “Was he fine as hell?”At Jeremy’s offended stare Imani confirmed that it indeed, was Michael. “Sorry, go on” “As I was saying, I saw her with some buff ass guy and I may or may not have shown some jealousy”

Knowing you,Imani had more than an inkling that there was more to the story. “And?” “And that's when she lost it. I mean I had no idea she felt that way Imani. I would've done anything to reassure her from those thoughts if I knew” Jeremy’s voice had gotten more trembly the more he thought about how hurt you were during the argument. He decided to end his story there, not wanting to cry his eyes out in front of your best friend at her dinner table.

Imani could see that you meant a lot to Jeremy. She may not understand your attraction to the guy but you meant a lot to her too and that is something that her and the curly headed white boy had in common. She couldn’t believe that she was about to help him get back in your good graces but here goes nothing. She took a deep sigh and repositioned herself. “Listen Jeremy it’s not your fault, y/n has a lot of insecurities she’s still working on that have nothing to do with you. However, I haven’t seen her this confident and happy in a minute so you must've been doing something right.” She encouraged him. But Jeremy was already wallowing in guilt. “Yeah well that didn’t last very long did it” “Look, what i'm saying is…you gotta be honest and straight up with y/n about your feelings. Tell her how you really feel and what you really think. Never leave anything up for assumption with y/n, that’s one advice i'll give you. You didn’t hear this from me but that girl loves your pale ass. So go get your girl NSYNC” “ I actually prefer Justin Timberlake” “Jeremy..” “Yes?” “Get the fuck out of my house and go get y/n back” “Yes ma’am”

#ice bound #jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jackman thomas harlow #jeremy x reader #jeremy wmcj #wmcj fanfic #moody fics #moody4world

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haerinz · 10 months

Text

the prince and the frog

PAIRING : prince jungwon x princess reader SYNOPSIS : when you're suddenly turned into a frog, jungwon's the first person you come to for help. GENRE : bulletpoint scenario, fairy tale au, friends to lovers, inspired by the frog princess series and disney's princess and the frog, a tiny bit of angst, gets more fluffy towards the end WARNINGS : heavily unedited, frequent pov changes, please lmk if you feel that there's any other warnings i should add WC : 2.4K

prince yang jungwon is no stranger to pranks

24 HRS A DAY . 7 DAYS A WEEK . 365 DAYS A YR

he had a lifetime of experience being the butt of such jokes ( o_o)

so much experience that he could probably put it on his resume ..

if only princes needed resumes

his elder brother, crown prince jeongin’s favorite pastime was to tease him ● ﹏ ●

and his sister jiheon wasn’t much better either … she was always babying him

jungwon loves his siblings but sometimes they seem to forget he’s now an adult

HE’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE MARRIED ??

and as a close friend to prince niki, it’s safe to say jungwon never got a break

usually the doing of niki, odd things had frequently found their way into jungwon’s private corners …

all made out of ice but still very realistic in appearance

TOO REAL FOR JUNGWON’S LIKING …

elephants, peacocks, tigers, you name it & jungwon had likely woken up to to it

BUT THIS ??

this was a different situation altogether

jungwon is not at all surprised when he wakes up to a frog on his chest …

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the extravagant gown the frog is wearing

but then it moves ??

none of niki’s ice sculptures had ever moved :00

maybe it was just the wind

yeah that’s probably it

jungwon freaks out a little when he notices the windows are all closed shut (O.O ?)

but he completely loses it once the frog starts to talk . .

“hi wonie”

shocked is an understatement . he's completely flabberghasted

THE

FROG

JUST

SPOKE

AND JUNGWON COULD UNDERSTAND IT ??

someone must’ve slipped smtg into that cup of warm milk he drank before going to bed

yeah that’s got to be it because there was no way he was in his right mind currently

jungwon doesn't know how to process his current situation …

he’s frozen in place (and for the first time it wasn't bc of niki’s magic)

jungwon’s never paid much attention to gossip

but maybe the rumor abt his crazy great-great uncle was true …

and maybe it runs in the family ??

or maybe all the pranks have finally gotten to his head & he’s lost it

(◎_◎ ;)

jungwon thinks he’s good person and a relatively good prince

sure, he’s skipped a few sword lessons from time to time

and sometimes fell asleep during his history lessons

but he’s always paid attention to the important stuff and his instructors love him

so he’s not sure what he did to deserve this

he’s sure that he must have lost his mind bc why …

WHY IS THERE A FROG ON HIS CHEST ??

WHY DID IT CALL HIM “WONIE” ??

AND WHY IS IT STARING AT HIM ??

nothing is adding up ( ・◇・)？

“ IT’S ME YN ! ! ! ”

you hadn’t wanted to scare jungwon but you had been waiting for him to wake up for what seemed like forever (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

and you were growing more impatient with each passing minute

(ㆆ _ ㆆ) (ㆆ _ ㆆ) (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

unfortunately for you, jungwon looks even more confused now …

the frog sounds just like you + claims to be you

if he was being honest, its beady eyes did kind of resemble yours

BUT IT’S A FROG ???

jungwon sits up, leaning against the headboard as he gently picks you up

he makes a cup with both his hands and holds you up to his face

YOU THINK YOUR HEART MIGHT BEAT OUT OF YOUR CHEST

his eyes are completely focused on you :(( AND HE JUST LOOKS SO CUTE

☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

STOP YOU CAN’T BE FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU’RE A FROG

meanwhile jungwon is having some epiphanies of his own

it had been almost a month since jungwon had last seen you, but he’d known you his whole life and you’d never shown any sign of being amphibious …

so he’s not sure why now ( ´ ･_･`)

jungwon didn’t have any magical powers or quirks of his own

but the concept wasn’t anything out of the ordinary especially among royal bloodlines

even niki had his own ice powers which he had only ever used to prank jungwon

turning into a frog though? that was pretty lame

it was almost worse than not having any powers at all

he can’t help but let out a snicker at the thought

“y-you’re a f-frog?” (jungwon, making no attempt to stifle his laughter)

“ STOP SMIRKING YOU IDIOT ” (ง'̀-'́)ง

you might actually have a heart attack if he keeps looking at you like that

ughhh why is your best friend so pretty??

it’s not fair（πーπ)

WAIT STOP YOU NEED TO FOCUS ! ! !

BE STRONG YN ! ! !

you couldn’t believe the audacity of yang jungwon . . .

( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)

YOU CAME TO HIM FOR HELP AND INSTEAD HE WAS MAKING FUN OF YOU

“o-okay i promise i’ll stop now” yeah he better stop (≖_≖)

“but seriously though, how’d you turn into a frog?”

just as promised, jungwon stops laughing and politely listens to everything you had to say

AND SO YOU TELL HIM ALL ABOUT HOW YOU HAD BEEN PLANNING TO SURPRISE NIKI FOR HIS BDAY BY SHOWING UP UNANNOUNCED

you had gone to your kingdom’s royal mage for help with the transportation spell ...

but he wasn’t available (T⌓T)

so you went with the next best thing — his apprentice, your elder cousin felix

who was clearly lacking training ಠ_ಠ & also no longer your favorite cousin ﴾ò_ó﴿

felix aka the primary reason you were now a frog had somehow messed up your transportation spell . . leaving you in this miserable state

technically the transportation spell was a success . . .

BUT YOU WERE ALSO NOW A FROG

and could no longer surprise niki for his bday in the way you had intended 🙁

jungwon patiently listens to your rant, giving you his complete attention the entire time

“don’t worry yn”

“i’ll take you to our local mage, maybe he can help”

comfortably nestled into jungwon’s pocket, the two of you quickly make your way to the royal mage’s quarters which was conveniently located in the same tower, just a few fleets of stairs below jungwon’s own quarters

*knock* *knock*

“prince jungwon! how are you?”

a very, very handsome face opens the door, greeting you both with a warm smile

jungwon introduces you to the mage, hyunjin and quickly summarizes your current dilemma for him

while jungwon speaks for you, you’re attempting to suppress the urge to ask the pretty mage if he’s single (´♡ᴗ♡`)

once he hears the entire story behind your predicament, hyunjin quickly goes to gather the necessary ingredients for a counter-spell, leaving you and jungwon alone together

“yn stop”

“won i'm not even doing anything” it’s rather hard to, when you’re still stuffed in his pocket

“stop ogling hyunjin.” jungwon whispers in your direction with a deadpan look on his face

he can’t help but feel annoyed with the mage at your behavior

hyunjin isn't even that good looking (¬_¬")

“yn i can literally see you drooling”

jungwon swears he’s much prettier in comparison

and he’s never given it much thought but he can’t see himself with anyone other than you …

so there’s no way that he’d let a stupid mage steal you from him (・`ω´・ ●)

you’re not sure how jungwon notices you staring, but who can blame you . . .

the mage is very pretty <33

and his arms looked really nice as he mixes all the ingredients together 🤭🤭

soon enough, hyunjin returns with a tiny vial filled with a bubbly, purple liquid

the mage leans towards jungwon’s pocket, meeting your eyes

“hopefully this will help”

HYUNJIN’S SMILE IS SO BRIGHT

that you think you might just faint at the sight . . .

while you remain dazed at hyunjin’s etheral visuals, jungwon takes the vial from the mage and opens it for you

he angles the vial towards your mouth and you quickly down it all, happily waiting for your transformation (๑˃̵ ᴗ˂̵)

some time passes and you continue to wait, just more nervously than before ( ′ ～‵ )

BUT THERE’S NO MAGICAL *POOF* ??

and you’re still a frog . . .

just a more disappointed frog than you were a few minutes ago

（；＿；）（；＿；）（；＿；）

while you and jungwon are at a complete loss for words, hyunjin quickly has a realization ( ‘◇’)

“YN. MAY I?” the excitement is clear from his voice

despite having no clue what the mage is referring to, you eagerly nod in agreement

hyunjin reaches out, picking you up from jungwon’s pocket

he brings you close to his face

（〃・ω・〃）

and then sniffs you? :000

“ ahh of course, it must be love! ”

at this, jungwon’s jaw drops and yours quickly follows

HUH …

LOVE (?_?)

DID YOU HEAR THAT RIGHT?

Σ('◉⌓◉’)

WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT?

was that a pickup line? maybe it was like his generation’s version of upsexy?

“hyunjin, what do you mean?” jungwon’s voice interrupts your daydreaming

“i think the mage who cursed yn must have accidentally added some sort of element of protection to the spell –”

“wait, felix did give me an extra safety potion bc i was a little nervous about doing the transportation spell by myself”

as much as you wanted to hate him for the whole FROG situation you were in, your cousin truly was a complete sweetheart

“while he accidentally messed up the transportation spell, the protection potion he gave you clearly works very well. it prevented any magical influence from interfering with you.”

hyunjin takes a deep breath before continuing his explanation

“because he used the blessing of venus in your potion — i’m afraid that the only way to undo it is with true love’s kiss”

WAIT WHAT

it’s safe to say that both you and jungwon are once again at a loss for words …

noticing the two royals freeze up, hyunjin takes it up on himself to break the silence

“yn do you happen to like anyone?”

jungwon’s eyes harden, flashing towards you, intently awaiting your response

“y-yes …” if you weren’t still a frog, you’d have been sweating buckets (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

jungwon feels his heart sink at your admittal :((

“but i don’t think he likes me back . . . ” and then it comes right back up

maybe he still has a chance at your heart

hyunjin visibly deflates at your revelation, but tries to keep his composure steady

as the eldest of the group, he can’t help but feel a strong responsibility towards the two of you

“could you please tell us who?”

WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO NOW (T__T)

staying a frog forever didn’t sound half bad in comparison to potentially losing your best friend

“yn please. we’re not going to judge you” jungwon’s surprises himself with the words coming out of his mouth

that was a complete lie, he didn't mean that at all

NO ONE CAN STOP HIM FROM JUDGING WHOEVER YOU LIKED

so what? maybe he is a little sulky about you liking someone …

jungwon didn’t know who they were

but no one would be able to treat you better than him

no one deserved you more than he did (ಠ╭╮ಠ)

“it’s you”

“it’s always been you”

at first jungwon’s disheartened, assuming that you had been talking to hyunjin, but then he realizes the mage is looking straight at him

HUH IT WAS HIM ALL ALONG ??

YOU LIKED JUNGWON ??

mentally, jungwon was going crazy in excitement but mostly relief

physically though, he remain fedrozen in place, eyes widened in shock at your confession

immediately fearing the worst from his response, or rather lack of, you can’t help but start to tear up

you just feel so bad (˃̣̣̥╭╮˂̣̣̥)

not even a second passes before you're full-on sobbing

except you’re a frog so it just sounds like “HUEHUE *RIBBIT* IM SO *RIBBIT* SORRY”

hyunjin is absolutely horrified & completely lost on how to handle the current situation

HE‘S JUST A MAGE ㅠㅠ

HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO COMFORT ROYAL CHILDREN

luckily jungwon is quick to snap out of it once he hears you cry

“wait yn don’t cry ! ! !”

“YN I LIKE YOU TOO”

huh（；＿；）

jungwon likes you too?

“really? you do?” (⚈ ⌢ ⚈)

jungwon’s heart aches as you continue pouting

“you know i wouldn’t lie about that”

“you promise?”

jungwon’s so obviously down bad for you that he’s not sure how you didn’t already know

even niki knew . . .

“i promise. i love you.”

a tiny smirk adorns his face as he carefully picks you up

“is it okay if i kiss you now?”

“more than okay” (yn, eyes wide & furiously nodding your head)

jungwon smiles even bigger, letting out a small laugh at your eagerness

all while holding eye contact with you, he places you on the table and moves closer, bending down to meet your level

and then he gives you a small peck on the head

*POOF*

OMG IT HAPPENED

YOU’RE NOT A FROG ANYMORE ( ◠‿◠ )

the first thing you do is squash jungwon in a huge bear hug

“thank you wonie”

“of course, you know i’d do anything for you” he’s so sweet :(

once you finish squishing jungwon, you face the mage to say your thanks to him too

“hyunjin, i‘ll forever be in your debt” you’re not sure what you would’ve done without him :(

both jungwon and you decide to head back to his room, giving hyunjin a chance to relax after such a stressful day

you’re both walking side by side, shoulders brushing against one anothers

and you’re just so happy and grateful for everything (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

until you remember what had just transpired . . .

( ＾∇＾) → ( ・∇・) → (°▽°)

JUNGWON KISSED YOU ??

AND YOU'RE HUMAN ??

SO HE LOVES YOU ??

“wait jungwon ! !” you halt in your tracks, grabbing him by his coat sleeve

“a-are we a thing now?” you’re so nervous what if he says no

“huh, what do you mean?” jungwon smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of you in such a flustered state because of him

“are we boyfriend-girlfriend now?” you’re even more nervous now and jungwon thinks you’re absolutely adorable

“would another kiss answer your question?” (jungwon, grinning widely as he’s finally realized the effect he has on you)

he feels incredibly smug knowing that you’re so down bad for him

( ¬‿¬ )

your crush on him was truly doing wonders for his ego

“but, that wasn’t a real kiss” (yn, slightly frowning)

forehead kisses don’t count

especially considering you had been a frog at the time

jungwon scans the surrounding hallway for any peeping eyes before responding, gently grabbing you by the waist to pull you closer to him

“should i kiss you, for real, this time then?” he whispers into your ear, so close that you can hear the smirk in his voice

he’s actually going to be the death of you …

“please” (yn, awkwardly avoiding eye contact)

jungwon tilts your chin up to face him, his other arm still wrapped around your waist

you both lock eyes and he doesn’t waste another second before kissing you

it’s sweet and awkward and a perfect first kiss

you both pull away from each other with huge smiles

in that moment, everything is absolutely perfect ♡

and together, the prince & his frog live happily ever after !!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !! and a million thanks to my lovely moots @gfksn @seungiepup & @tnyhees for helping me with proofreading ILYSM 💗 formatting & layout inspired by @/chenle and @/soobnny ♡

networks : @kflixnet @k-labels

permanent taglist : @ilynaevis @yeongwonie @gfksn @luvhyun3 @esc6pism

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